Levi Tenen

How does valuing something for its own sake differ from valuing an entity for the sake of other things? Although numerous answers come to mind, many of them rule out substantive views about what is valuable for its own sake. I therefore seek to provide a more neutral way to distinguish the two valuing attitudes. Drawing from existing accounts of valuing, I argue that the two can be distinguished in terms of a conative-volitional feature. Focusing first on “non-final valuing”—i.e. valuing_ x_ for the sake of something else—I argue that it involves adopting certain reasons on account of a desire for _x_ to contribute to other things. I then show how this contrasts final valuing. The result, I argue, is a plausible account of how the two modes of valuing differ that leaves open substantive views about what all can be valued for its own sake. This is helpful because it develops a popular methodology used to explore the value of a wide range of things, including natural entities, family heirlooms, and artworks, as well as, more broadly, entities that might have “extrinsic final value.”

Heirlooms and memorabilia are sometimes thought to be valuable for their own sakes even if they lack intrinsic value. They can have extrinsic final value, meaning that they can be valuable for their own sakes on account of their relation to other things. Yet if heirlooms and memorabilia can have this sort of value, then perhaps so can natural entities. If correct, this idea secures the claim that nature is valuable for its own sake without requiring that it have a normative property just in itself. Additionally, it does not commit one to the contentious view that natural entities have a more foundational value than that of persons or sentient beings. Yet it remains to be shown how, precisely, natural entities can have this sort of value. As argued here, one such way is if the given natural entity is related to something else that people are justified in valuing in a partly passive manner. This account then sheds light on the values present in a world increasingly affected by humans.

A number of writers argue that objects can be valuable for their own sakes on account of their extrinsic features. No one has offered an account, though, that shows exactly how or why objects have this sort of value. I seek to provide such an account. I suggest that an object can have final value on account of its relation to someone one loves or admires, where it is one’s warranted love or admiration for the person that renders the related object valuable for its own sake. I identify a feature of love and admiration that shows exactly why this is the case. I then end by suggesting how this account locates a reason to value non-intrinsically good things for their own sakes that avoids a “wrong reason” objection facing alternative views.

The Antiquities Act gives the president the power to designate “objects of historic or scientific interest” as “national monuments.” Presidents have used this power expansively, protecting massive tracts of federal land, often by claiming that very large things, such as the Grand Canyon or even entire landscapes, are “objects” in the requisite sense. There is legal debate over such uses of the Act, with critics arguing that they depart from the original intent and meaning of the legislation. What has been less discussed, however, is whether the Act allows presidents to protect just the object of interest (whatever it turns out to be), or whether it allows presidents to protect a substantial amount of land around objects of interest. I draw from language in the Antiquities Act and existing case law to argue the latter. Due to the nature of “historic and scientific interest,” protecting an object with such interest often requires protecting certain features of the broader landscape. This holds regardless of what counts as an “object of interest.” As a result, it offers a way to argue on certain critics’ own grounds for more expansive designations: even granting a narrow, originalist conception of what qualifies as an “object,” large designations can be justified.

Aesthetic and historical values are commonly distinguished from each other. Yet there has not been sustained discussion of what, precisely, differs between them. In fact, recent scholarship has focused on various ways in which the two are related. I argue, though, that historical value can differ in an interesting way from aesthetic value and that this difference may have significant implications for environmental preservation. In valuing something for its historical significance, it need not always be the case that there is a reason to want people to experience the entity. Valuing something for its aesthetic merit, by contrast, does imply a reason to want people to experience the entity. I suggest that in virtue of this difference, some historical values may offer better justification for preserving natural environments than do aesthetic considerations.

In this article, I begin developing what I call the genre view of public lands. It holds that public land designations fall into different genres of land management. I focus on one designation in particular—US national monuments created under the Antiquities Act—to develop the view and illustrate its significance. I characterize the national monument genre in terms of two norms stated in the Act and show how they shape public space in distinctive ways. I then illustrate how the genre view opens avenues for evaluating land designations. By way of example, I evaluate national monuments according to aesthetic considerations. I argue that the genre is, perhaps surprisingly, aesthetically vexed and that there is an aesthetic reason for presidents to depart from the original intent and meaning of the Act. This also lends support for some of the most controversial national monuments. Drawing from case law, I then show how aesthetic evaluations may hold legal weight. Such considerations can also influence decisions about whether to protect an area as a monument. In these ways, the genre view offers a framework for philosophers, and particularly aestheticians, to contribute to environmental law and policy.

Populations in many Midwest cities are declining.  To maintain infrastructure with a shrinking tax base, city planners have sometimes proposed to right size such cities, sometimes shutting down or removing infrastructure.  Such proposals have been met with fierce resistance among many residents, especially in communities with a history of top-down, racialized city planning.  This raises the question: if population loss is a near certainty, is it possible to shrink justly?  Much work on environmental injustice focuses on removing bad things from an environment, but in shrinking cities, there is a high likelihood that good things will be removed.  Is it at all possible to do this in a manner that promotes justice?  In our view, the answer is perhaps.  Academics and professional city planners ought not determine the fate of cities, but can develop detailed conceptions of a city’s future for residents to consider.  To this end, we build on a theoretical framework—the notion of a “just city”– to sketch a few ideas about what a just shrinking city might look like, identifying both a wider array of hazards, and possible benefits, to reducing city services than is often noticed.