There has always been a tension, in theory, between the public accountability and the professional efficiency of the agencies of the administrative state. How has that tension been handled? What would it be like for it to be well handled?

Technological innovations and scientific discoveries do not occur in a vacuum but instead leave us needing to reimagine what we thought we knew about the human condition.

Geoengineering involves intentionally modifying the environment on a massive scale and is typically proposed as a last resort to prevent catastrophic harms caused by climate change. Critics argue that there are powerful moral reasons against researching, let alone undertaking, geoengineering. Perhaps most notably, Stephen Gardiner argues that even if we are forced to choose between allowing a climate catastrophe or geoengineering—and geoengineering is the less harmful option—it could still be the case that we ought not to geoengineer. This essay argues for a conditional: if we are indeed forced to choose between catastrophic environmental harm and the less harmful option of geoengineering, then we ought to geoengineer.

Following the Roosevelt administration’s implementation of New Deal programs in the 1930s, the federal courts began to interpret the Constitution in a way that accommodated the rise of the “administrative state,” and bureaucratic policymaking continues to persist as a central feature of American government today. This essay submits, however, that the three pillars supporting the administrative state—the congressional delegation of Article I powers to the executive branch, the combination of powers within individual administrative entities, and the insulation of administrators from political control—might be reconsidered by the courts in the near future. After showing that the constitutionality of the administrative state has come under recent judicial scrutiny, the essay turns to the administrative law principle of deference, and argues that a reassessment of the Chevron doctrine seems imminent. Finally, the essay examines federal courts’ heavy use of “hard look” review as a means of curtailing agency discretion during recent administrations, and concludes that this judicial practice stands in uneasy tension with republican principles.

Regulatory agencies aim to protect the public by moderating risks associated with innovation, but a good regulatory regime should also promote justified public trust. After introducing the USDA 2020 SECURE Rule for regulation of biotech innovation as a case study, this essay develops a theory of justified public trust in regulation. On the theory advanced here, to be trustworthy, a regulatory regime must (1) fairly and effectively manage risk, must be (2) “science based” in the relevant sense, and must in addition be (3) truthful, (4) transparent, and (5) responsive to public input. Evaluated with these norms, the USDA SECURE Rule is shown to be deeply flawed, since it fails appropriately to manage risk, and similarly fails to satisfy other normative requirements for justified trust. The argument identifies ways in which the SECURE Rule itself might be improved, but more broadly provides a normative framework for the evaluation of trustworthy regulatory policy-making.

The United States Constitution is, in form and fact, a kind of fiduciary instrument, and government officials acting pursuant to that document are subject to the background rules of fiduciary obligation that underlie all such documents. One of the most basic eighteenth-century fiduciary rules was the presumptive rule against subdelegation of discretionary authority. The rule was presumptive only; there were recognized exceptions that permitted subdelegation when it was specifically authorized by the instrument of agency, when it was validated by custom or tradition, and when it was necessary for accomplishment of the agent’s authorized purposes. To what extent might that third exception justify broad subdelegation of legislative authority by Congress to administrative agencies? Part of the answer, which is beyond the aims of this essay, depends on ascertaining the nature of the job entrusted to Congress under the Constitution, which means ascertaining the scope of Congress’s delegated powers. Another part of the answer depends on the extent to which expertise can and may serve as justification for entrusting others with tasks with which one has previously been entrusted. What would a responsible fiduciary approach to expertise—whether for purposes of advice or subdelegation—look like in the modern administrative state? The answer requires a careful examination of the idea of expertise and how it can be applied, and misapplied, in modern governance. This essay offers only the briefest introduction to that problem by trying to frame the questions that responsible fiduciaries need to ask before subdelegating authority. Such questions include: (1) What are the limits of the principal’s own knowledge? (2) What reason is there to think that gaps in that knowledge can, even in principle, be filled by experts? (3) Will application of expert knowledge lead in any particular instance lead to better decisions, given the ubiquitous problem of second-best? and (4) Have you picked the right experts, and will they actually apply expertise rather than using their claim to expertise as a cover for pursuing other goals? These questions in the context of the modern administrative state are just one aspect of a broader problem of nonexperts trying to evaluate—both before and after the fact—the work product of experts.

Informed consent is a central concept in the literature on the ethics of clinical care and human subjects research. There is a broad consensus that ethical practice in these domains requires the informed consent of patients and subjects. The requirements of informed consent in these domains, however, are matters of considerable controversy. Some argue that the requirements of informed consent have been inflated, others that they have not been taken seriously enough. This essay argues that both sides are partly right. To advance this argument, the essay distinguishes a general doctrine of informed consent from what it characterizes as “models of informed consent.” A general doctrine articulates a set of requirements for informed consent and then adjusts these requirements to fit the context in which they are to be applied. In contrast, different models of informed consent impose different requirements in different contexts. The essay contends that different models of informed consent are needed for clinical care and clinical research. It outlines these two models, articulates the rationale for distinguishing them, and considers and rebuts the objection that clinical care and clinical research are too deeply intertwined in contemporary medicine for the models approach to apply to them.

Richard T. Ely was one of the most important architects of the administrative welfare state in the United States. His astonishingly influential career was the product of a fundamental re-thinking of the origin and nature of the state. Repudiating the social compact theory of the American founding in favor of a self-consciously “new,” “German,” and frankly “social” conception of the state ordered toward the realization of a collective vision of human perfection, Ely conceived the task of social reform as extending social control over the hereditary and environmental determinants of human character. In the early 1930s, Ely’s vision of social reform would inspire some of his boldest students, especially M. L. Wilson, to formulate a sweeping vision of social planning that would not only inform his little known and rather coyly named Division of Subsistence Homesteads, but also his efforts at the National Resources Board (NRB)—the nation’s first ever agency for comprehensive national planning.

When the modern administrative state emerged in America during the Progressive Era, at the beginning of the twentieth century, it was typically grounded on the premise that administrative officials are experts who should be insulated from politics. This theory, combined with emerging ideas of scientific management, contributed to the intellectual justification for the administrative state. However, progressives never fully reconciled the tension between this theory and the democratic nature of American politics. Because of this ambiguity and tension in the progressives’ theory of expertise, the politics/administration dichotomy was abandoned shortly after the administrative state was constructed. The place of expertise in the administrative state is still ambiguous, even in the twenty-first century.

Reasonable people agree that whenever possible, we ought to rely on experts to tell us what is true or what the best course of action is. But which experts should we rely on and with regard to what issues? Here, I discuss several dangers that accompany reliance on experts, the most important one of which is this: positions that are offered as expert opinion frequently contain elements outside an expert’s domain of expertise, for instance, values not intrinsic to the given domain. I also talk about the practical implications of accepting my view.

The last decade or so has seen an explosion of scholarship by American law professors on what has become known as administrative constitutionalism. Administrative constitutionalism is a catchphrase for the role of administrative agencies in influencing, creating, and establishing constitutional rules and norms, and governing based on those rules and norms. Though courts traditionally get far more attention in the scholarly literature and the popular imagination, administrative constitutionalism scholars show that administrative agencies have been extremely important participants in American constitutional development. Section I of this essay identifies three different versions of administrative constitutionalism—(1) Engagement with Existing Constitutional Doctrine; (2) Resolving Questions of Statutory Meaning that Implicate Constitutional Questions; and (3) Shadow Administrative Constitutionalism—and provides examples from the scholarly literature to illustrate these distinct manifestations of administrative constitutionalism. Section II of this essay discusses the normative turn in administrative constitutionalism scholarship. Much of this normative literature is implicitly or explicitly premised on the notion that agencies are more likely to pursue progressive goals than are other government actors. Section III of this essay disputes the notion that agency constitutional decision-making is “democratic” and that agencies are naturally inclined to serve progressive goals. Finally, Section IV of this essay notes that scholars who support broad agency autonomy to work out and enforce their own constitutional visions have failed to consider how their work fits in with the economic and political science literature on agency behavior. One can predict, based on that literature, that agencies given broad autonomy under the guise of administrative constitutionalism will primarily be inclined to expand their scope and authority at the expense of countervailing considerations.

The fog of war—poor intelligence about the enemy—can frustrate even a well-prepared military force. Something similar can happen in intellectual debate. What I call the fog of debate is a useful metaphor for grappling with failures and dysfunctions of argumentative persuasion that stem from poor information about our opponents. It is distressingly easy to make mistakes about our opponents’ thinking, as well as to fail to comprehend their understanding of and reactions to our arguments. After describing the fog of debate and outlining its sources in cognition and communication, I consider a few policies we might adopt upon learning we are in this fog.

Contemporary critiques of the administrative state are closely bound up with the distinctively American doctrine that republican freedom requires that the legislative, executive, and judicial powers be exercised by separate and distinct branches of government. The burden of this essay is to argue that legislative delegation and judicial deference to the administrative state are necessary, or at least highly desirable, features of a democratic separation of powers regime. I begin by examining the historical and conceptual roots of the separation of powers doctrine, paying particular attention to the unique way in which it was adapted to fit the American case. I then examine three concerns that the resulting constitutional system raises about the republican freedom of those who are subject to it—which I call the accountability, legitimacy, and stability concerns—and argue that the administrative state is a useful, albeit imperfect, tool for reducing the unavoidable tension between these concerns. The thrust of this discussion is to push us away from “in principle” objections to the administrative state, and back toward the kinds of prudential considerations that are associated with ordinary liberal politics. More importantly, the aim of the essay is to encourage sober reflection on the real dangers that face the American constitutional system under current circumstances.

Algorithms are now routinely used in decision-making; they are potent components in decisions that affect the lives of individuals and the activities of public and private institutions. Although use of algorithms has many benefits, a number of problems have been identified with their use in certain domains, most notably in domains where safety and fairness are important. Awareness of these problems has generated public discourse calling for algorithmic accountability. However, the current discourse focuses largely on algorithms and their opacity. I argue that this reflects a narrow and inadequate understanding of accountability. I sketch an account of accountability that takes accountability to be a social practice constituted by actors, forums, shared beliefs and norms, performativity, and sanctions, and aimed at putting constraints on the exercise of power. On this account, algorithmic accountability is not yet constituted; it is in the making. The account brings to light a set of questions that must be addressed to establish it.

This essay argues that online public shaming can be productively understood as a problem of technology. In particular, the technology of public shaming is ambiguous between two senses. On the one hand, public shaming depends on various technologies, such as social media posts or, more historically, pillories. These are the artifacts of shame. On the other hand, public shaming itself is a social technology. In particular, public shaming is a way for communities to promote cooperation. Ultimately, I claim there is a mismatch between the artifacts of shame and this important social technology of shame. Social media drifts toward disintegrative shame, which tends to corrode cooperation. This suggests that we must either realign the technology of public shame or reject shame as a legitimate option.

This essay examines the administrative state as a ubiquitous phenomenon that results in part from the mismatch of incentives. Using two dramatic episodes in the history of economics, the essay considers two types of mismatch. It then examines how economists increasingly endorsed the “general good” as a unitary goal for society, even at the expense of private hopes and desires. More than this, their procedures and models gave them warrant to design mechanisms and advocate for legislation and regulations to “fix” the supposedly suboptimal choices of individuals in service to the overarching goal. The rise of New Welfare Economics dealt an additional blow to the sovereignty of individual motivations, notwithstanding that Hayek and Buchanan warned that this engineering approach allowed social goals to override individual preferences. Throughout, the argument is that it is important to recognize that people within or advising the administrative state are influenced by the same sorts of (private) motivations as actors throughout the economy.