Jason Brennan

Daniel Layman attempts to critique our recent paper debunking semiotic objections to commodification. Semiotic objections hold that commodifying certain goods and services is wrong because doing so expresses disrespect for the things in question. Layman claims instead that the problem is that such markets “embody” the “wrong norms” or the “wrong deliberative stance.” Given the length-requirements, we, at the moment, need to hear a lot more about the difference between “embodying” a norm, and expressing it. As far as we can tell at the moment, we’re suspicious that he might be begging the question, or just re-describing semiotic objections in a more obscure way.

Duties of beneficence are general, impersonal obligations to promote the welfare and meet the needs of strangers. Many laypeople and philosophers presume that duties of beneficence are primarily met through volunteering or donating to various causes. More recently, some business ethicists and activists in the effective altruist camp have argued that social enterprise can be a way to exercise beneficence. This essay argues that most of us exercise beneficence, and discharge many or perhaps all of our duties of beneficence, by holding normal jobs and doing normal productive work.

This paper describes public reason communitarianism, a theory which is isomorphic to public reason liberalism. It contains the same internal diversity and debates, and the same fundamental structure and argumentation as public reason liberalism. However, while public reason liberals believe that public reason will converge on liberal outcomes, hypothetical public reason communitarians hold that public reason converges, for largely the same reason, on communitarianism. From the outside, there seems to be no good grounds for preferring one over the other. We offer this theory as a challenge for public reason liberalism, as it poses a dilemma. If public reason liberals admit the coherence of the communitarian version of their view, then public reason does not uniquely generate liberal outcomes, and indeed in the real world probably fails to justify liberalism, even to all reasonable people committed to public reason. If liberals want to deny the coherence of the view, though, it seems they must rely on question-begging liberal premises or question-begging interpretations of key concepts in the public reason view. Thus, contrary to their self-understanding, their view is ideological after all.

Libertarians often bill their theory as an alternative to both the traditional Left and Right. _The Routledge Handbook of Libertarianism_ helps readers fully examine this alternative, without preaching it to them, exploring the contours of libertarian (sometimes also called _classical liberal_) thinking on justice, institutions, interpersonal ethics, government, and political economy. The 31 chapters--all written specifically for this volume--are organized into five parts. Part I asks, what should libertarianism learn from other theories of justice, and what should defenders of other theories of justice learn from libertarianism? Part II asks, what are some of the deepest problems facing libertarian theories? Part III asks, what is the right way to think about property rights and the market? Part IV asks, how should we think about the state? Finally, part V asks, how well (or badly) can libertarianism deal with some of the major policy challenges of our day, such as immigration, trade, religion in politics, and paternalism in a free market. Among the _Handbook_’s chapters are those from critics who write about what they believe libertarians get right as well as others from leading libertarian theorists who identify what they think libertarians get wrong. As a whole, the _Handbook_ provides a comprehensive, clear-eyed look at what libertarianism has been and could be, and why it matters.

In most, if not all, forms of epistocracy, we can expect (at least in the near future) that the more advantaged demographic groups would have higher rates of representation than less advantaged groups. The Demographic Objection to Epistocracy holds that this means epistocracy is unjust. One version of the Demographic Objection holds that the unequal representation is inherently unfair. I show that this argument fails, as proceduralist concern for fairness does not get us to universal equal suffrage at all. A second version holds that by giving some kinds of people more power than others, epistocracy will tend to help the advantaged and harm the already disadvantaged. In contrast, I argue that certain forms of epistocracy escape this objection altogether. For the others, though, this version of the objection relies on questionable empirical assumptions. In the end, neither version of the Demographic Objection succeeds. The Demographic Objection to epistocracy is much weaker than it seems.

Arguments for a duty to vote face the particularity problem—that is, they must show that voting in particular is the only way for citizens to achieve the relevant moral goal (e.g., promote the common good or avoid complicity in injustice), such that the goal cannot be achieved by activities other than voting. Kevin Elliott attempts to overcome the particularity problem by defending a universal duty to vote on the grounds that universal voter turnout is needed to ensure that democratic institutions function properly. We argue that Elliott’s attempt is unsuccessful. It is unable to explain why citizens may not promote turnout without voting; moreover, it does not establish that democratic institutions are morally special, such that citizens are obligated to contribute to them but not to other valuable institutions.

Many businesses police employees’ extramural political speech and beliefs. They refuse to hire potential employees or will fire and blackball current employees for what they say and believe about politics. This paper argues that business managers should, with a few narrow exceptions, forbear from doing so. It grants that some political speech and beliefs, such as racist speech, can indeed be wrongful and presumptive grounds for disassociating with others. However, I argue that we cannot even in principle, even roughly, determine what makes some beliefs bad enough to merit such blackballing. Further, I argue that people in general, and business managers in particular, are likely to be unreliable in practice in assessing which speech or beliefs are unacceptable. Accordingly, businesses should forbear from policing speech because they are likely to be incompetent and unreliable at such policing.

Many people believe that we should not be friends with others if they have bad enough moral and political beliefs. For instance, they think that we should not befriend KKK members or Nazis. However, not all errors in moral and political belief disqualify people from friendship. If so, then there is some line to be drawn somewhere which indicates when a person's beliefs are bad enough that we should not befriend them. This paper considers many candidate proposals for how and why to draw the line, including that beliefs might be extreme, be held irrationally, dehumanize others, are unreasonable, and more. However, upon inspection, each candidate proposal fails. They either provide the wrong kind of reason to reject people as friends, or they fail to explain what counts as ‘bad enough’ beliefs. There are various arguments in favour of rejecting people from friendship on the basis of their bad beliefs, but these arguments also fail to explain what counts as ‘bad enough’. Thus, this paper concludes there is a genuine puzzle: we should indeed blackball some people from friendship when their beliefs are bad enough, but we do not have even a rough specification of what counts as bad enough.

Many liberal philosophers claim that people are free to do as they will by default; any interference must be justified. This supposed presumption of liberty does a significant amount of theoretical work for public reason liberals such as Gerald Gaus and John Rawls. This paper shows that Gaus’s explicit defense of a presumption of liberty fails. Gausa and his many followers repeatedly appeal to a particular thought experiment from Stanley Benn. We argue that this thought experiment fails to show that there is a presumption of liberty, but instead shows, at best, the trivial point that when any particular moral concern is specified to be the only relevant concern, then there is a presumption in favor of that concern. Further, Gaus, along with Shaun Nichols, has tried to demonstrate empirically that the intuitions and conclusions he draws from this example are fairly uniform and universal among other moral agents, but we explain why their experimental results do not vindicate any such conclusion. We conclude that undermining the alleged presumption of liberty places public reason liberalism in serious jeopardy.

G. A. Cohen and David Estlund have recently defended utopophilia against utopophobia. They argue we should not dumb down the requirements of ethics or justice to accommodate people’s motivational failings. The fact that certain people predictably will not do the right thing does not imply they are unable to do so, or that they are not obligated to do so. Utopophiles often defend left-wing ideas; for instance, Cohen argues that people’s unwillingness to do what socialism requires does not imply that socialism is bad, but instead that people are bad. This essay shows that utopophiles must also endorse certain “conservative” conclusions, such as that most poor adults in the developed West are obligated to act more prudently, get jobs, become net taxpayers, avoid having children they cannot afford, and act to avoid needing welfare or assistance.

Carol Gould argues that democratic institutions can serve as mechanisms of informed consent or could at least facilitate creating regulations and other structures which facilitate informed consent in bioethics, medicine, and elsewhere. I am sceptical. I argue that democracies cannot serve as vehicles of consent, let alone informed consent. Further, the problems of democratic ignorance and irrationality created significant barriers to democratic deliberation helping to produce better regulations or conditions for informed consent. Democracy is not a good surrogate for consent.

Business Ethics for Better Behavior concisely answers the three most pressing ethical questions business professionals face: 1. What makes business practices right or wrong? 2. Why do normal, decent businesspeople of good will sometimes do the wrong thing? 3. How can we use the answer to these questions to get ourselves, our coworkers, our bosses, and our employees to behave better? Bad behavior in business rarely results from bad will. Most people mean well much of the time. But most of us are vulnerable. We all fall into moral traps, usually without even noticing. Business Ethics for Better Behavior teaches business professionals, students, and other readers how to become aware of those traps, how to avoid them, and how to dig their way out if they fall in. It integrates the best work in psychology, economics, management theory, and normative philosophy into a simple action plan for ensuring the best ethical performance at all levels of business practice. This is a book anyone in business, from an entry-level employee to CEO, can use.

Democracy is both an obvious and dubious idea. Here's why democracy is an obvious idea: For most of history, most governments divided people into the few who rule and the many who obey. The few then used the state to advance their own private interests at the expense of the many. Rulers were less like noble protectors appointed by God and more like intestinal parasites. The obvious solution is to eliminate the distinction between those who rule and those who obey. Make every citizen both a ruler and a subject of that rule. This ensures government promotes everyone's interests. Thus, democracy is the best form of government. It's too bad it took most of civilized history to realize this-and too bad that the world isn't more democratic than it is. Here's why democracy is a dubious idea. Government decisions are high stakes. It decides matters of war and peace, prosperity and poverty, freedom or oppression. Yet we let incompetent people steer the ship of state. Most voters are ignorant and process what little information they have in biased and irrational ways. They fall prey to propaganda and demagogues. They are conformists and don't even try to vote their interests. Democracy is the political equivalent of drunk driving. Thus, democracy is a defective form of government. Democracy is a method by which the masses shoot themselves in their feet. Philosophy students often start essays by writing, "Since the dawn of time, humanity has pondered..." In this case, these arguments and concerns are old, if not dawn-of-time old. We find laypeople, pundits, social scientists, and philosophers making these two arguments today. But in ancient Athens, Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle said similar things.

Many business ethicists, activists, analysts, and corporate leaders claim that businesses are obligated to promote diversity for the sake of justice. Many also say—good news!—that diversity promotes the bottom line. We do need not choose between social justice and profits. This paper splashes some cold water on the attempt to mate these two claims. On the contrary, I argue, there is philosophical tension between arguments which say diversity is a matter of justice and (empirically sound) arguments which say diversity promotes performance. Further, the kinds of interventions these distinct arguments suggest are different. Things get worse when we examine the theory and empirical evidence about how diversity affects group performance. The kind of diversity which promotes justice and the kind which promotes the bottom line are distinct—and the two can be at odds.

In this accessible book, leading scholars Jason Brennan and Hélène Landemore ask, what good is democracy and is there any better alternative? Brennan argues that democracy suffers from built-in systematic flaws. There is no way to fix these flaws--we can only contain them, or jettison democracy for a better system of representative government. Landemore argues that our problem is that we have not been using real democracy. Real democracy--in which citizensexercise more genuine power--can overcome the problems we see in modern republican governments. The book concludes with each author responding to the other's arguments, ultimately helping readers see how their views of justice depend in part on how they think democracy functions.