To send content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about sending content to .
To send content items to your Kindle, first ensure email@example.com
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about sending to your Kindle.
Note you can select to send to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be sent to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
For cosmopolitans, global democracy is valuable both in itself and as a means to global justice. Their preferred principle of political enfranchisement is the All Affected Principle which, given global interdependencies, means that virtually everyone should have a vote virtually everywhere. Anti-cosmopolitans want to resist that conclusion. They try to do so by appealing instead to the All Subjected Principle. But you are subject to a law whenever it claims to apply to you, and in contemporary practice states typically claim authority to make many laws that apply even to non-nationals abroad. On the All Subjected Principle, they too should have a vote over those laws. The All Subjected Principle would thus have similarly expansionary implications for the franchise as the All Affected Principle, contrary to the fondest hopes of anti-cosmopolitans.
Theories of deliberation, developed largely in the context of domestic politics, are becoming increasingly relevant for international politics. The recently established Universal Periodic Review (UPR) operating under the auspices of the UN’s Human Rights Council is an excellent illustration. Our analysis of responses to its reports and recommendations suggests that the deliberative processes surrounding the UPR do indeed evoke co-operative responses even from countries with poor human rights records. Its highly inclusive, deliberative, repeated-play and peer-to-peer nature can serve as a model for how international organizations more generally can enhance deliberative capacity across the international system.
Solidarity is supposed to facilitate collective action. We argue that it can also help overcome false consciousness. Groups practice ‘epistemic solidarity’ if they pool information about what is in their true interest and how to vote accordingly. The more numerous ‘Masses’ can in this way overcome the ‘Elites,’ but only if they are minimally confident with whom they share the same interests and only if they are (perhaps only just) better-than-random in voting for the alternative that promotes their interests. Being more cohesive and more competent than the Masses, the Elites can employ the same strategy perhaps all the more effectively. But so long as the Masses practice epistemic solidarity they will almost always win, whether or not the Elites do. By enriching the traditional framework of the Condorcet Jury Theorem with group-specific standards of correctness, we investigate how groups can organize to support the alternatives truly in their interests.
There are many different ways of responding to wrongdoing: person-centered or object-centered, victim-centered or perpetrator-centered, and fault-oriented or not. Among these approaches, requiring innocent beneficiaries to disgorge the fruits of historical wrongdoings of others is attractive because it is informationally the least demanding. Although that approach is perhaps not ideal, at least it is feasible where other responses are not, and doing something is better than doing nothing in response to grievous historical wrongdoing. Depending on circumstances, disgorgement can be in whole or in part, in kind or in cash. Even without the full information that disgorgement itself requires, general redistributive taxation might be justified as a tolerably close approximation.
In A Constitution of Many Minds Cass Sunstein argues that the three major approaches to constitutional interpretation – Traditionalism, Populism and Cosmopolitanism – all rely on some variation of a ‘many-minds’ argument. Here we assess each of these claims through the lens of the Condorcet Jury Theorem. In regard to the first two approaches we explore the implications of sequential influence among courts (past and foreign, respectively). In regard to the Populist approach, we consider the influence of opinion leaders.
The Federalist, justifying the Electoral College to elect the president, claimed that a small group of more informed individuals would make a better decision than the general mass. But the Condorcet Jury Theorem tells us that the more independent, better-than-random voters there are, the more likely it will be that the majority among them will be correct. The question thus arises as to how much better, on average, members of the smaller group would have to be to compensate for the epistemic costs of making decisions on the basis of that many fewer votes. This question is explored in the contexts of referendum democracy, delegate-style representative democracy, and trustee-style representative democracy.
Lawyers talk of the common law offence of ‘perverting the course of justice’ by bribing or intimidating judges or jurors, lying to the police or court, concealing or destroying or fabricating evidence. This article argues that the same things are wrong, and wrong for the same reasons, politically as judicially: they prevent people from knowing and applying for themselves the rules by which they are ruled. The sort of excuses typically offered for those perverse practices in politics – that ‘it made no difference’, that ‘they could and should have resisted’ or that it is merely a matter of ‘fair adversarial competition’ – would be laughed out of a court of law, and they should be shunned politically for the same reasons as judicially.
Many who discuss global democracy think in terms of a Reform-Act model of democracy, with the ideal being ‘one person one vote for all affected by the decisions’ as in, for example, a second popularly apportioned chamber of United Nations. Politically, that is dismissed as wildly unrealistic. Remember, however, the Reform Acts came very late in process of democratization domestically. Among early steps that eventually led to full democratization of that sort domestically were: (a) limiting the arbitrary rule on the part of the sovereign; and (b) making the sovereign accountable to others (initially a limited set of others, which then expanded). Globally, there are moves afoot in both those directions. Crucially, once those pieces are in place, the circle of accountability basically only ever expands and virtually never contracts.
Judging from Gallup Polls in the United States, the United Kingdom, and Australia, opinion often changes during an election campaign. Come election day itself, however, opinion often reverts back nearer to where it was before the campaign began. That that happens even in Australia, where voting is compulsory and turnout is near-universal, suggests that differential turnout among those who have and have not been influenced by the campaign is not the whole story. Inspection of individual-level panel data from 1987 and 2005 British General Elections confirms that between 3 and 5 percent of voters switch voting intentions during the campaign, only to switch back toward their original intentions on election day. One explanation, we suggest, is that people become more responsible when stepping into the poll booth: when voting they reflect back on the government's whole time in office, rather than just responding (as when talking to pollsters) to the noise of the past few days' campaigning. Inspection of Gallup Polls for UK snap elections suggests that this effect is even stronger in elections that were in that sense unanticipated.
Distributive justice is ordinarily calibrated in monetary terms. But money is not the only resource that matters to people. Talk of the ‘work−life balance’ points to another: time. Control over one's time, the capacity to spend it as one wishes, is another important resource; and its distribution raises another important aspect of justice. Here I describe a new method of distinguishing how much time one has discretionary control over, net of the amount it is necessary to spend in certain ways given one's circumstances. To draw out the distributive-justice implications of these calculations, I contrast the most-to-least privileged, in terms of discretionary time: a person in a dual-earner couple with no children, versus a lone mother. The magnitude of the gap between the discretionary time enjoyed by the best and worst is a measure of temporal injustice. That gap is substantially larger in some countries (such as the US and Australia) than in others (such as Finland and Sweden). Conventional welfare-state interventions – tax and transfer systems, support for child care – contribute pretty similarly to reducing that particular gap across all the countries examined. Differing practices surrounding the dissolution of marriages with children potentially makes a much bigger difference. Differing labour-market policies might make a similarly large difference yet again.
Recent theorizing about politics has been characterized by a quest for an appropriate ‘currency of egalitarian justice’. Time has some very special properties that combine to make it a particularly apt candidate for that status.
Time is inherently egalitarian. Everyone has just 24 hours in a day. Some people may value time more than others. Still, an hour is the same for everyone, everywhere. That makes it a natural metric for social comparison.
Time is inherently scarce. No one has more than 24 hours in a day. Some people's projects are more time-consuming than others', and some people's lives last longer than others'. Still, virtually everyone agrees that more time would be better. That makes time a resource that is always scarce relative to demand.
Time is a necessary input into anything that one cares to do or to become. Some people make better use of their time than others, getting more done in the same amount of time. Still, everyone needs some time to do or become anything. That makes time a universal good.
Those facts combine to make ‘time’ a particularly apt currency for egalitarian justice.
What we ought to be concerned with, more precisely, is the just distribution of control over the resource of ‘time’. When we say that someone ‘has more time’ than someone else, we do not mean that she has literally a twenty-fifth hour in her day.
Choices that people make within their households can dramatically affect their temporal autonomy. We have already seen how, when two single individuals merge into a common household, each of them gains in discretionary time. We have seen that when they have children, both (but mothers more than fathers) sacrifice much autonomy over their time. We have seen that when they divorce, the partner left with the children suffers even greater losses in discretionary time.
The differences that household choices make to discretionary time can often vastly exceed any difference that governments make. To get some sense of that, let us contemplate a ‘toy example’. It is not quite right, in ways that will be discussed shortly and rectified subsequently. But it is close enough to serve the present purpose, which is merely to demonstrate how intra-household arrangements might matter for discretionary time.
Here is the example. Imagine a single, childless woman. She lives in the US at the moment, but is contemplating moving to Sweden. Judging from Figure 13.1, such a woman could on average expect to enjoy 2.5 hours more discretionary time a week if she moved to Sweden. But suppose she decided instead to stay in the US, to marry and have children, and then to divorce keeping all responsibility for the kids. Doing so would cost such a woman on average 29 hours of discretionary time.