Mankind is sectional in outlook, carving the world into little compartments with mile upon mile of boundary lines. Technology, on the other hand, is inherently universal in outlook; nature's laws operate as infallibly in Spain as in China, in Russia as in Australia. The substances which it uses are scattered widely over the earth without respect for human conventions. In the collection of raw products and the transportation of finished goods, its purposes are economic, not political. The engineer, then, in applying his rational skill to the world's haphazard system of political areas must necessarily cut across artificial regions with a variety of works. The railway needs no introduction as a map-slashing agency. It has pierced the Alps, connecting Switzerland and Italy by way of the famous Simplon tunnel; it has crossed the towering Andes, linking Argentina with Chile; it has stretched out through Siberia, tying China and the Pacific with the countries of western Europe; and it speeds the traveller through a veritable maze of Balkan nations. Electrical designers, creating superpower nets of transmission lines, run wires with utter abandon across national and local frontiers, joining Switzerland and France over the Alps in one net, and North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Tennessee in another. The production manager, turning out automobiles, airplanes, watches, and a flood of other commodities, seeks to distribute his products in every clime and under every flag. The engineer, in short, is a universalist, however intense his patriotism, and cannot function efficiently without traversing human boundary lines.

The contemporary criticism in England of the traditional theory of the state can conveniently be traced to the famous introduction of Maitland to the fragment of Gierke. It is significant to note that Maitland's analysis followed by one year the classic restatement of the orthodox view by Bosanquet, thus perhaps offering another illustration of the common observation that when a doctrine has received its fullest elaboration, its decline has already set in. During the first twelve or fifteen years of the present century, this criticism became an important undercurrent of political thought, as shown by the emergence of Distributivism and Guild Socialism, the passing of the zenith of the conventional Fabianism with the publication in 1909 of the Minority Eeport on the Poor Law, and the publication of Figgis's Churches in the Modern State in 1913. This later view was as yet, however, only an undercurrent; for the main stream of thought as indicated by L. T. Hobhouse in his Liberalism (1911) did not show any effects of the new leaven. Only during the next decade, say between the publication of Russell's Principles of Social Reconstruction (1916) and Professor H. J. Laski's Grammar of Politics (1925), did the novel movement become the main current. Viewed in wider perspective, Russell, Hobhouse, the Webbs, Tawney, Cole, Laski, and Hobson offer variations on the same theme. The completeness and comprehensiveness of Professor Laski's Grammar of Politics make it especially significant. The book is, in fact, a summary of the development of English thought since 1900.

For more than a decade, the Privy Council has been the subject of political controversy in Japan. Today, a group of liberals look upon the Council as an obstruction to the progressive development of parliamentary government and urge its reform, if not abolition. Under these circumstances, there is a tendency to subject the Council to considerable scrutiny from a utilitarian viewpoint. What is its purpose? Does it adequately fulfill this purpose, or does it obstruct the present trend of representative government in Japan? What reforms in its structure and functions are to be recommended? The answers to these questions are suggested largely by the varying liberal or conservative views of the various critics.

An evaluation of the achievements of an organ of government such as the Privy Council may be guided by several standards of value. One standard aims to measure the success of the institution in achieving the purpose of the states men who were the architects of its being. Another attempts to measure the success of the institution in promoting what is generally accepted at the present time by intelligent persons as good government. Measured by the first of these standards, the Privy Council would probably disappoint the author of the constitution, or at least disappoint his expectations as expressed in the almost naive language of the celebrated Commentaries on the Constitution wherein the Council was designed “to serve as the highest body of the emperor's constitutional advisers,” and was “to be impartial, with no leanings to this or that party, and to solve all difficult problems.”

A nomenclature is a system of names or signs, or both, used in any field of knowledge. Such systems are of value to scientists in a field if they enable positions to be seen more clearly or distinctions to be drawn more readily.

In a recent article, Huntington Cairns says: “There prevails, secondly, confusion with respect to the instrument—linguistics—with which the anthropologist, the jurist, or the social scientist must pursue his investigations and through whose medium he must state his conclusions. … But once the social scientist passes from these simple aspects to the realm of theory, linguistics becomes a problem and it is in his struggle with this problem that he is most envious of the symbolism of the mathematician.”1

Confusion and uncertainty appear to be present in several sections of political science. Linguistics is a problem for us in theory; in addition, it is a serious one in teaching and in the field of research.

When a problem appears in a field of knowledge which handicaps effective work, experiments are in order, not only to analyze the phenomenon itself, but, in addition, to find ways or means by which the causes producing the unfortunate circumstance may be removed, or at least reduced. Can the apparent confusion and uncertainty among political scientists concerning the meaning of terms, labels, or intellectual positions be reduced? This is an important problem which directs our attention to the possibility of developing a nomenclature for political science.

The most significant case in the field of state constitutional law decided during the past year is that of State ex rel. Miller v. Hinkle, decided by the supreme court of Washington in 1930. This case held that an apportionment act is a “law,” and can be popularly initiated under the initiative and referendum provisions of the constitution of the state of Washington. The court granted a petition for a writ of mandamus to compel the secretary of state to accept a petition submitting to popular referendum a proposal to redistrict the state for purposes of representation in the legislature. The legislature had failed for many years to perform its constitutional duty to reapportion the state, and this case illustrates the most conclusive argument in favor of the use of the initiative and referendum for purposes of ordinary legislation, even though the only legislation to which it be applied be that of reapportionment. Many states are faced with a serious problem in connection with over-representation of rural districts in the legislature and under-representation of urban districts. The initiative and referendum seem to offer about the only way out of the difficulty if state legislatures refuse to correct the inequality. The only alternative is that we change our ideas as to the necessity of majority rule in the selection and composition of legislative bodies, a change which the rural districts appear already to have made.

The year which has passed since the preparation of the last “Notes on Municipal Affairs” (June 1, 1930) has been even more eventful than the preceding period.

Developments in Particular Cities. New York City. The belief which had been growing for many years that the Tammany tiger was, after all, a self-restrained, self-muzzled beast has suffered a rude shock in the exposures of flagrant corruption in the sale of judicial office, the handling of vice, the purchase of land for school purposes, and in many other directions. The district attorney's office has been exposed to the searchlight of investigator Seabury. Charges were preferred against Mayor Walker by John Haynes Holmes and Rabbi Wise in the name of a citizens' committee. Governor Roosevelt dismissed these charges with scant consideration. In the meantime, however, the legislature ordered a most searching investigation of the whole governmental situation in New York—an investigation which bids fair to rival, in extent and dramatic interest, that of the celebrated Lexow committee.

Chicago. In Chicago, Mayor Thompson's political career has suffered, if not extinction, at least a total eclipse. Though victorious against a broken field in the Republican primary, he was defeated by Anton J. Cermak in the election of April 7 by a vote of 476,932 to 671,189. It is probable that the people of Chicago were more anti-Thompson than pro-Cermak, but the new mayor is a vigorous and striking figure. For one thing, he is boss in his own right of the Democratic organization in Cook county.

The British Parliament has been passing through a period of pianissimo. Its praises should be sounded very softly, while its inadequacies and imperfections should be given wide attention. This does not imply a lack of veneration and respect for the Mother of Parliaments, but merely that a realistic approach should be made to the present-day value of this progenitor of the sturdy race of legislatures. No political institution is eternally successful, and even British institutions which have evolved so slowly, and in general so soundly, are no exceptions. The halo which surrounds Westminster is so great, however, that it almost blinds one to the imperfections which exist within those hallowed precincts. It seems almost sacrilegious, as a great British statesman recently observed, to attempt to meddle with “those great forms of procedure which have been handed down to us.” And yet when the Mother of Parliaments has so obviously deteriorated as to lose much of the respect and prestige which was formerly its possession, one seems justified in calling attention to its inadequacies.

The fact is that in the last thirty years Parliament has gradually become an inefficient legislative body which does not effectively control the government, and which the people can hardly be said to control. As early as 1908, President Lowell wrote that “the House of Commons is finding more and more difficulty in passing any effective vote, except a vote of censure.” In 1931, it is doubtful whether even this can be done in a satisfactory way.

The public character of the chambers of commerce in France and in Europe generally is a commonplace. Their intimate relationship with the government is taken as a matter of course. This very complacency is significant acceptance of the close rapprochement of the political and economic hierarchies. These organizations of entrepreneurs in France function as the legally recognized representatives of definite interests. It is regarded as no novel idea that business men as such have public duties and governmental responsibilities that must be conducted in coöperation with the state. The chambre de commerce is the usual agency for carrying on these contacts; it is classified as a “personne civile” and an “établissement public.” It is provided for by statute, given specific powers, and entrusted with definite functions. It is representative of local business men holding a mandate from the Republic authorizing them to perform specified tasks of government and requiring them to offer advice upon commercial and industrial problems.

Regarded merely as agencies through which the government may secure a degree of perfunctory agreement from a selected number of employers and capitalists, the chambres de commerce would have little to offer. They are significant, rather, because of the fact that they provide a recognized means whereby discussion may be held upon questions by those who are directly affected by the outcome. Through such a consideration, the opportunity is offered to secure not only acquiescence but also understanding. The winning of consent is but one step in legislation.

The law for the reorganization of central administration and the law on local administration (July 20, 1929) sponsored by the National Peasant government of Roumania have recently been put into effect. Both measures were drafted by Professors Negulescu, of the University of Bucharest, and Alexianu, of the University of Cernauţi. Their adoption comprises one of the most thorough governmental reforms in the history of the Balkans.

The structure of the Roumanian government was, until very recently, almost completely copied from the French system. Roumania was a typical example of a unitary organization. The whole power of government was centralized in Bucharest. Practically all powers of local government were derived from the central authority, and were enlarged and contracted at the will of Bucharest. The whole system lent itself admirably to the domination of the National Liberal party, guided up to 1927 by Ion I. C. Brǎtianu, and after his death by his brother, Vintilǎ I. C. Brǎtianu, who died last year.

Since the strength of the National Peasant party, which assumed the reins in 1928, lies largely in the provinces acquired at the close of the World War, a decentralization of government was to be expected. The bitter resentment of Maniu and his associates toward the over-centralization which favored the policies of the Bratianus forced the recent overhauling of the governmental structure, tending toward federalism—a form which takes cognizance of the differences of the past and present between the old kingdom and the new provinces and attempts to extend democratic features of self-rule to the electorate. At the same time, it attempts to secure bureaucratic expertness.

In the course of the last eight years, economists and political scientists in the United States have become increasingly aware of problems created by government influence on private foreign investments. For an understanding of these problems, they have turned to an analysis of the experiences of England, France, and Germany before the World War and of the United States since. But little attention has been given to the implications of control of foreign investments for international organization. It is the purpose of this paper (1) to summarize the nature of the control in each country; (2) to outline the theory underlying government control; (3) to point to the international effects of this control; and (4) to propose certain changes which are necessary to bring this aspect of state policy into line with recent developments of international organization.

In a sense, it is inaccurate to speak of government control in England, because the influence exerted by the government there was not in the nature of regulation. The relationship between government and bankers was one as different from legal control as is the theory of the common law from that of the civil law. That is to say, there was no statute on the basis of which the government influenced the outward flow of capital. Such relationship as there was, such similarity of policy as existed between finance and government, depended upon the existence of an accord which was the result of a common heritage and a common purpose.

There was recently published in the pages of this Review an article from the pen of Professor William E. Rappard, entitled “The Beginnings of International Government,” in which the author took issue with the use of that phrase and challenged the validity of the concept to which it refers. He took as his text, more or less, a volume published in the United States some years back which employed the contested phrase in its title. And he concluded that the term is a misnomer, and that the phenomenon referred to does not—in the possible alternative sense of supernational government—exist today to any appreciable extent.

There has subsequently appeared another volume carrying the neat title “International Government;” and another volume with somewhat the same designation is promised shortly. Some ten years ago, the writer of the present comment, in composing a similar work, was compelled to face the problems of theory and of verbal expression here involved, and decided in favor of “International Organization.” To that he has adhered in subsequent editions, with ample reference to the functional side of international government (“procedure,” “coöperation”), but, as originally, for reasons not involving a denial of the validity of the contested concept. He would like to discuss briefly the criticism of the idea of “international government” offered in his accustomed brilliant and trenchant style by Professor Rappard.

The main difficulty lies not so much in accepting the definition of government adopted by Professor Rappard (orderly exercise of authority); but that is the first point at which the writer would take issue.