Annabelle Lever

Kate Phelan's defense of feminism as a movement exclusively concerned with sex‐based oppression rests on two interlocking moves: a sharp division between women as women and women as members of other oppressed groups, and a “sex‐right” framework that is supposed to entail an abolitionist conclusion about prostitution. This reply argues that both moves fail, and that they fail together. The attempt to isolate sex‐based oppression as a separable object of feminist concern proves unstable once the intersectional constitution of women's oppression is acknowledged: the characteristics that make sex‐based oppression recognizable as such cannot be cleanly separated from class, race, and other axes of domination. The same instability undermines Phelan's sex‐right argument: the inference from the existence of prostitution to the persistence of unconditional male entitlement does not hold once rape has been criminalized and sexual access has been made legally conditional on consent. The line‐drawing to which Phelan attributes such importance is, in the end, both theoretically imprecise and politically unnecessary for the ends she wishes feminism to pursue.

This article reviews two contrasting books on lottocracy that came out in 2024 – Alexander Guerrero's, Lottocracy: Democracy Without Elections and Cristina Lafont and Nadia Urbinati's The Lottocratic Mentality; Defending Democracy Against Lottocracy. Both are valuable additions to contemporary democratic theory's increasingly lively debates about the best way to conceptualise and institutionalise representative democracy. The review highlights the innovations that Guerrero brings to the presentation of lottocracy, and their implications for executive as well as legislative government, but questions his attachment to microcosmic representation as a regulative political ideal. Although sympathetic to Lafont and Urbinati's critique of lottocracy, it casts doubt on their claim that lottocrats must confuse democracy and technocracy and require ‘blind deference’ to the decisions of randomly selected assemblies. It also questions their confidence that we can readily distinguish the ‘auxiliary’ non-legislative forms of citizen assembly, which they favour, from the ‘lottocratic mentality’ they reject.

This special issue examines the implications of a commitment to democracy for the ethics of voting and for the capacity of elections to legitimise the exercise of political power. Although there is a substantial literature on the morality of abstention and the justification for compulsory voting/turnout, there is almost no systematic discussion of the interplay between electoral institutions and the behaviour of voters as moral and political agents. Our collection seeks to address this lack and to bring philosophical attention to the variety of conceptual, normative, and strategic questions involved in the practice of democratic voting.

Declining turnout rates and political disengagement have spurred many proposals to reform contemporary democracies. Some proposals aim at electoral participation, while others seek to create alternative non-voting forms of participation in politics. This article explores a third route, where elections are used to foster democratic non-voting engagement: that is, engagement in elections, but not as voters. We propose that society actively seek to engage citizens and resident non-citizens, who are either by choice or by law currently non-voters, to participate in the different administrative aspects of elections as poll workers. Our proposal concerns paid positions for which people volunteer, rather than unpaid positions into which people are drafted, whether they want to or not. Hence, this article proposes a novel form of electoral participation that is voluntary, open, and appropriate for those unable or not yet ready to vote.

This is a frustrating book: on the one hand, it promises a new outlook on the philosophy of privacy, based upon the work of Luciano Floridi and Baruch Spinoza, which is a welcome extension of the sources used to think about privacy in contemporary political philosophy; on the other hand, it virtually ignores the existing literature on the philosophy and law of privacy. As the presentation of the legal and philosophical issues tends to be schematic, it is quite difficult to know what the book offers by way of additions and corrections to the larger literature on privacy. The book has a bibliography after each chapter, which makes it hard to assess the sources overall, and to find references, unless you remember the chapter in which they occurred. This reinforces the sense that what is presented as a monograph is really a set of independent essays or lectures which, while individually interesting, do not give the reader a clearer sense of the way legal and philosophical issues about privacy fit together. [First paragraph]

This paper provides an overview of the ethical challenges facing voters in democratic elections. It starts by examining the assumptions that underpin contemporary claims about the moral and epistemic advantages of lotteries as compared to elections and shows their similarities to arguments for ‘unveiling the vote’, as Brennan and Pettit put it. (G. Brennan & Pettit, 1990) It looks at the empirical and normative difficulties of these claims and highlights the risk of confusing morally misguided voting with injustice, and of supposing that it must be politically consequential. Finally, the paper casts doubt on the claim that democracy implies that voters should be publicly accountable to each other for their vote and that the secret ballot is, therefore, a regrettable, if necessary, concession of principle to sad reality. It concludes by drawing out the implications of its analysis for the ethics of voting in ideal, non-ideal and highly non-ideal situations.

The ethics of voting is a new field of academic research, uniting debates in ethics and public policy, democratic theory and more empirical studies of politics. A central question in this emerging field is whether or not voters should be legally required to vote. This chapter examines different arguments on behalf of compulsory voting, arguing that these do not generally succeed, although compulsory voting might be justified in certain special cases. However, adequately specifying the forms of voluntary voting that are consistent with democratic norms is likely to be philosophically complex and politically controversial.

This paper looks at Alexander Guerrero’s epistemic case for ‘lottocracy’, or government by randomly selected citizen assemblies. It argues that Guerrero fails to show that citizen expertise is more likely to be elicited and brought to bear on democratic politics if we replace elections with random selection. However, randomly selected citizen assemblies can be valuable deliberative and participative additions to elected and appointed institutions even when citizens are not bearers of special knowledge or virtue individually or collectively.

Elections are generally considered the only way to create a democratic legislature where direct democracy is not an option. However, in recent years that assumption has been challenged by individuals who claim that lotteries are a democratic way of selecting people for office, elections are aristocratic or oligarchic, not democratic, and that elections as we know them are inadequate if true democracy is prioritized. In opposition to this wave, my paper argues that the assertions made to support the democratic merits of lotteries are unpersuasive. Current evidence that sortition is either more egalitarian or produces epistemically better results than elections is poor. Instead, these assertions illuminate the importance of elections in enabling the constituents of a democracy to reconcile the personal and political dimensions of their lives and, therefore, better reflect citizens’ claims to privacy and equality. The paper begins by recapping the main arguments for treating sortition as a democratic way to select a legislature, outlines their deficiencies, and then turns to what these perceived failings actually suggest about the democratic value of elections.

The aim of this paper is to explore the claim that lotteries are more democratic than elections. The paper starts by looking at the two main forms of equality that give lotteries their democratic appeal: an individually equal chance to be selected for office, and the proportionate representation of groups in the legislature. It shows that they cannot be jointly realized and argues that their egalitarian appeal is more apparent than real. Finally, the paper considers the democratic reasons to value randomly selected assemblies, even if claims about their distinctively egalitarian properties are exaggerated.

What does it mean to treat people as equals when the legacies of feudalism, religious persecution, authoritarian and oligarchic government have shaped the landscape within which we must construct something better? This question has come to dominate much constitutional practice as well as philosophical inquiry in the past 50 years. The combination of Second Wave Feminism with the continuing struggle for racial equality in the 1970s brought into sharp relief the variety of ways in which people can be treated unequally, while respecting the formalities of constitutional government. Most obviously, the content of laws can mistreat them by wrongfully assuming that they are either threats to others, or that, like children, they need to be protected from harm through paternalistic limitations on their freedom of action. Or, as those concerned with class inequality have long noted, formal equality can create legal requirements, permissions, and prohibitions whose burdens fall predictably, and often solely, on groups who are already marginalised, and most in need of state protection. (Kairys, David 1990) Above all, what these two great political movements made plain, is that a concern for group inequality and, specifically, group injustice must figure in the formulation and adjudication of individual rights, if legal protections for equality are adequately to combat the causes of inequality. Getting to grips with that challenge, it became obvious, required going beyond the familiar analyses of inequality inherited from Liberalism and Marxism, given the many different ways in which people can be equal or unequal.(Hackett and Haslanger 2006, 3 - 15) In the first part of this chapter, I will seek to illustrate these claims, by focusing on efforts to reframe the theory and practice of constitutional equality given demands for sexual and racial equality. I will then show that analytic philosophy has also come to recognise the various non-reducible dimensions of equality in ways that reinforce the claims of critical legal theory, even as philosophers highlight their disconcerting consequences. If equality has multiple irreducible dimensions, conflicts between the legitimate demands of equality are unavoidable features of law and politics, even in the best possible world, and are likely to be particularly painful when set against a background of historical injustice. The chapter concludes with the challenges to democratic constitutionalism, and the scope for constructive responses to those challenges, which the rapprochement between critical and analytic thinking on equality suggests.

This article develops an intuitive idea of proportionality as a placeholder for a substantive conception of equality, and contrasts it with Ripstein’s ideas, as presented in an annual guest lecture to the Society of Applied Philosophy in 2016. It uses a discussion of racial profiling to illustrate the conceptual and normative differences between the two. The brief conclusion spells out my concern that talk of ‘proportionality’, though often helpful and, sometimes, necessary for moral reasoning, can end up concealing, rather than illuminating, people’s claims to be treated as equals.

Les deux articles d’Eric Fassin, et la réponse de mon collègue Alain Policar, apportent intelligence et lucidité sur un sujet difficile, et un débat pénible que l’on peine à voir dans la polémique de Marianne (n° 1152,2-18 avril), ni malheureusement dans quelques articles sur ces sujets parus dans l’Obs. Pour une non-française, il n’est pas toujours facile de comprendre une lutte, plutôt qu’un ‘débat’, autour du mot ‘race’, qui semble spécifiquement française, mais où néanmoins les idées et textes américains (et parfois anglais) font partie du champ de bataille. J’espère que cette intervention, motivée par la critique de Fassin par Policar, peut être utile même si elle manque de l’élégance et de la maitrise du contexte intellectuel français.

Is public policy ethics possible and, if so, is it desirable? This twofold question can – and sometimes does — elicit a smile or a frown. The smile implies that ethical theorizing rests on a naïve idea of policy-making; the frown implies that there is something tasteless or incongruous in expecting philosophy to engage with problems of policy and with the political bargaining and compromise that policy-making often involves. These reactions – familiar to many working in this academic discipline – point to the ways in which ethics and public policy have been taken to be separate areas of practical concern and theoretical inquiry.

This brilliant and challenging book provides an overview and defence of 'luck egalitarianism', one that helpfully connects debates on luck egalitarianism to debates on what aspects of our lives egalitarians should try equalise (the 'equality of what?' debate/the debate on the 'metric' of equality) and on what respect, if any, it makes sense to see each other as equals. The book illuminates different conceptions of luck, as found in the philosophical literature, clarifies the difference between telic and deontic equality, and explains the 'levelling down' problem and the way that this affects luck egalitarians, and egalitarians more generally. For these reasons, the book provides a handy introduction to a range of philosophical debates about equality amongst analytic philosophers, whether or not one is particularly interested in luck egalitarianism. However, this is not an easy book to read, and while it is advertised as suitable for advanced undergraduates, I find it hard to imagine using it in any undergraduate course I have taught in the United States, England, France or Switzerland. But this is definitely a book that masters and doctoral students should be able to read by themselves and that will be helpful for teachers preparing classes on luck egalitarianism or on equality more generally.

This article argues that people have legitimate interests in privacy that deserve legal protection on democratic principles. It describes the right to privacy as a bundle of rights of solitude, intimacy and confidentiality and shows that, so described, people have legitimate interests in privacy. These interests are both personal and political, and provide the grounds for two different justifications of privacy rights. Though both are based on democratic concerns for the freedom and equality of individuals, these two justifications for privacy can be distinguished because the one is principally concerned with protecting the personal freedom and equality of individuals, while the other is principally concerned with their political equivalents. Feminists have often been ambivalent about legal protection for privacy, because privacy rights have, so often, protected the coercion and exploitation of women, and made it difficult to politicise personal forms of injustice. However, interpreting the content and justification of privacy rights in light of the differences between democratic and undemocratic forms of politics can enable us to meet these concerns, and to distinguish a democratic justification of privacy rights from the alternatives.

Does the wide distribution of political power in democracies, relative to other modes of government, result in better decisions? Specifically, do we have any reason to believe that they are better qualitatively – more reasoned, better supported by the available evidence, more deserving of support – than those which have been made by other means? In order to answer this question we examine the recent effort by Talisse and Misak to show that democracy is epistemically justified. Highlighting the strengths and weaknesses of their arguments, we conclude that the differences between an epistemic conception of democracy and an epistemic justification of democracy are fundamental to determining the relative attractions of different arguments for democracy, and their implications for actual forms of government.

Is there a human right to be governed democratically – and how should we approach such an issue philosophically? These are the questions raised by Joshua Cohen’s 2006 article, ‘Is There a Human Right to Democracy?’ – a paper over which I have agonised since I saw it in draft form, many years ago. I am still uncomfortable with its central claim, that while justice demands democratic government, the proper standard for human rights is something less. But, as I hope to show, the reasons for that discomfort are occasioned less by the thought that democracy may not be a human right than by the very significant gaps in our understanding of rights which debates about the human rights status of democracy exemplify.

The new frontiers in the philosophy of intellectual property lie squarely in territories belonging to moral and political philosophy, as well as legal philosophy and philosophy of economics – or so this collection suggests. Those who wish to understand the nature and justification of intellectual property may now find themselves immersed in philosophical debates on the structure and relative merits of consequentialist and deontological moral theories, or disputes about the nature and value of privacy, or the relationship between national and global justice. Conversely, the theoretical and practical problems posed by intellectual property are increasingly relevant to bioethics and philosophy and public policy, as well as to more established areas of moral and political philosophy. Perhaps this is just to say that the philosophy of intellectual property is coming into its own as a distinct field of intellectual endeavour, providing a place where legal theorists and philosophers can have the sorts of discussions - neither reducible to questions about what the law is, nor wholly divorced from contemporary legal problems - which typify debates about freedom of expression, discrimination and human rights. These are all areas in which legal and philosophical ideas influence each other at the level of method as well as of substance. My hope is that this collection of essays will appeal to those who, whatever their professional specialty or training, share an interest in the philosophy of intellectual property, and that it will build upon and advance existing interdisciplinary dialogue and research in this complex, fascinating, and important area. Authors include John Christman, Stephen Munzer, Alex Rosenberg, Geert Demunijck, Laura Biron, James Wilson

This chapter is concerned with the role of democracy in preventing terrorism, identifying and apprehending terrorists, and in minimizing and alleviating the damage created by terrorism.1 Specifically, it considers the role of democracy as a resource, not simply a limitation, on counterterrorism.2 I am mainly concerned with the ways in which counterterrorism is similar to more familiar forms of public policy, such as the prevention of crime or the promotion of economic prosperity, and so nothing that I say turns on being able sharply to distinguish terrorism from other bad things that democracies have to face. I will not, then, address the extensive debate on the best way to define terrorism.3 However, I assume that terrorists characteristically seek to terrorize people in order to secure their particular ends. What forms that terror takes, what people terrorists seek to terrorize, and what ends terrorists seek to promote I assume to be indeterminate, open to change, and a matter for empirical investigation. However, I take it that the IRA, Baader Meinhoff, and the Red Brigade, as well as certain animal rights groups in the United Kingdom and certain anti-abortion groups in the United States, are examples of terrorist groups and individuals. In short, I will be assuming that terrorism is principally characterized by the choice of means to given ends, rather than by the ends themselves, and that it is the choice of means, rather than the favored ends, that makes terrorism so problematic from a democratic perspective. However good the goal, terrorizing a population—whether or not this involves killing the innocent—is morally wrong and, from a democratic perspective, an abuse of power over the lives of others. While the use of terror may indicate that the ends sought by terrorists are such that people cannot be expected to support them voluntarily, there is no justification for supposing that the ends of terrorism must be morally or politically unacceptable simply because the means are both. It is a staple of ordinary life—not merely of philosophical examples—that people are sometimes unjustified in the means they use in order to accomplish perfectly acceptable ends. So, the ends terrorists seek are, or might become, morally or politically acceptable without in any way altering our objections to the use of terror as a tool for promoting them.

: Does the rejection of pure proceduralism show that we should adopt Brettschneider’s value theory of democracy? The answer, this paper suggests, is ‘no’. There are a potentially infinite number of incompatible ways to understand democracy, of which the value theory is, at best, only one. The paper illustrates and substantiates its claims by looking at what the secret ballot shows us about the importance of privacy and democracy. Drawing on the reasons to reject Mill’s arguments for open voting, in a previous paper by A. Lever, it argues that people’s claims to privacy have a constitutive, as well as an instrumental, importance to democratic government, which is best seen by attending to democracy as a practice, and not merely as a distinctive set of values.

Philosophical reflection on racial profiling tends to take one of two forms. The first sees it as an example of ‘statistical discrimination,’ (SD), raising the question of when, if ever, probabilistic generalisations about group behaviour or characteristics can be used to judge particular individuals.(Applbaum 2014; Harcourt 2004; Hellman, 2014; Risse and Zeckhauser 2004; Risse 2007; Lippert-Rasmussen 2006; Lippert-Rasmussen 2007; Lippert-Rasmussen 2014) . This approach treats racial profiling as one example amongst many others of a general problem in egalitarian political philosophy, occasioned by the fact that treating people as equals does not always require, or permit, us to treat them the same. The second form is concerned with how racial profiling illuminates the nature, justification, and reproduction of hierarchies of power and privilege based on skin colour and morphology. This form of reflection on racial profiling is therefore less about the justification for judging people based on the characteristics of the group to which they (appear to) belong, and more concerned with the specific ways in which the association of racialized minorities – and, in particular, black people – with crime, contributes to, and reflects, racial inequality, and oppression.(Kennedy 1998; Zack, 2015; Lever, 2005; Lever 2007). Both approaches to profiling have much to recommend them and, taken together, they form an essential component of the political philosophy of race. The statistical approach has the merits of linking racial profiling, as practice, to a body of other practices that generate and justify inequalities based on factors other than race, but it typically offers little by way of insight into the role of racial profiling itself in sustaining racial inequality and injustice. The racial construction approach, for obvious reasons, is rather better at the latter task, but its insights tend to come at the price of a broader understanding of the ways in which inequality is reproduced and justified, or of the ethical dilemmas raised by our competing claims to security. As we will see, insights from both approaches can be synthesized to clarify what, if anything, is wrong with racial profiling and what broader conclusions for equality and security follow from the study of profiling.

Lisa Hill’s response to my critique of compulsory voting, like similar responses in print or in discussion, remind me how much a child of the ‘70s I am, and how far my beliefs and intuitions about politics have been shaped by the electoral conflicts, social movements and violence of that period. But my perceptions of politics have also been profoundly shaped by my teachers, and fellow graduate students, at MIT. Theda Skocpol famously urged political scientists to ‘bring the state back in’ to their analyses, and to recognise that political identities, interests and coalitions cannot be read off straightforwardly from people’s socio-economic position. In their different ways, this was the lesson that Suzanne Berger, Charles Sabel and Joshua Cohen tried to teach us, emphasising the ways that political participation and conflict, themselves, can change people’s identities, their sense of what it is desirable and possible, and their ability to recognise, or oppose, the freedom and equality of others. I do not therefore take it as self-evident that the poor and seemingly powerless should be politically apathetic, unwilling to vote, or incapable of imagining a political solution to at least some of the problems confronting them. Nor do I suppose that non-voters are all-of-a-piece, and that their shared interests are, inevitably, more significant, morally or politically, than those which divide them. Such assumptions seem mistaken in the case of voters, and I see no reason why they should be true of non-voters. The people we find in these categories are not predestined to be in one rather than the other; they do not always stay where they start off; and at an individual level, the reasons why people fall into one group, rather than another, are likely to be complex and sometimes unpredictable. Above all I see nothing in a commitment to democratic government, understood realistically or in more idealistic terms, that requires us to treat raising turnout at national elections (once every four years or so) as of such moral or political importance that we should make it legally mandatory. Realistically, it is an open question how far the ballot box is, for most people, the path to empowerment – important though it is that people should have an equal right to vote and to stand as candidates at national elections. On a more idealistic view of democratic politics it is hard to avoid the thought that the importance of national elections to self-government, posited by proponents of compulsory voting, reflects an alienated and alienating view of democracy, in which the choice of our leaders becomes more important than the development and exercise of our own capacities to lead; and in which our awe at the power our leaders might wield is matched only by our inability to imagine less intimidating, distant and centralised forms of politics. But before saying a little more about these points, and their significance for compulsory voting, I would like to dispel some misunderstandings or misrepresentations of my views in Hill’s essay. I do not believe socio-economic disparities in turnout are not worrying for democratic politics, nor do I believe that abstention is generally synonymous with consent. I do not assume that people have a right not to vote, but try to explain why moral and legal rights to abstain are an important part of democratic politics, including electoral politics.

this paper argues that people are entitled to keep some true facts about themselves to themselves, should they so wish, as a sign of respect for their moral and political status, and in order to protect themselves from being used as a public example in order to educate or to entertain other people. The “outing” - or non-consensual public disclosure - of people’s health records or status, or their sexual behaviour or orientation is usually unjustified, even when its consequences seem to be beneficial. Indeed, the paper claims, the reasons to reject outing, as inconsistent with democratic commitments to freedom and equality, are reasons to insist on the importance of privacy to freedom of expression. While a free press is of the utmost importance to democratic government, it is not identical with the free expression of individuals and, on occasion, the former may have to be constrained in order to protect the latter. [Barendt, 2007, 231]. Hence, the paper concludes, we should distinguish the claims of individuals to publish reports about their lives – even if this necessarily involves revealing the private lives of others – from journalistic claims to publish information about the sex lives of consenting adults. I will start by briefly situating my argument within a democratic approach to privacy, before using the “outing” of Oliver Sipple to examine people’s claims to privacy and their implications for freedom of expression and of the press. I will be assuming that some forms of privacy are legitimate, in order to focus more closely on the question of what information, if any, people may keep to themselves.