Confronting race through Rawls's political philosophy

 Rawls believes that a just society must be a pluralistic society, and that means that it must be neutral across (reasonable) comprehensive conceptions of the good. Citizens must be enabled to pursue their own comprehensive conceptions without interference from the state. Does this imply that a comprehensive conception based on the idea of ethnic or racial superiority over another must be condoned? It does not, because Rawls is not in fact neutral across all comprehensive conceptions. He believes there is a background condition that is both morally and sociologically necessary for the maintenance of a just society — the requirement that recognizes equal freedoms, dignity, and opportunity for all groups of citizens and that cultivates citizens who share these commitments. This has a very powerful implication: Rawls’s theory implies the urgent need for finding means of developing citizens who embody respect, tolerance, and compassion for others. This means finding effective means of reducing and eliminating racism in our society.

Consider this short text from section 7 of Political Liberalism:

Think, then, of the principles of justice as designed to form the social world in which our character and our conception of ourselves as persons, as well as our comprehensive views and their conceptions of the good, are first acquired, and in which our moral powers must be realized, if they are to be realized at all. These principles must give priority to those basic freedoms and opportunities in background institutions of civil society that enable us to become free and equal citizens in the first place, and to understand our role as persons with that status. (Political Liberalism, 41)

This paragraph merits close attention. Let’s start with the idea of “forming the social world in which our character … as well as our comprehensive views … are first acquired”. This is an acknowledgement of the plasticity of character, conception of the good, and moral powers in real human beings. These features of the person must be acquired, and they are shaped and influenced by the circumstances in which the individual develops. This introduces a fundamental aspect of historicity into the question of justice: a society both shapes the individuals who constitute it and is the result of the moral identities of past generations of individuals. Moral development is a crucial part of the creation and maintenance of a just society.

This idea has an important implication: a society founded on “bad” institutions, practices, and principles will result in the creation of individual persons — the constituents of the next phase of the social order — who are morally flawed. And this implies that the society that they play a role in creating will itself be morally flawed.

As an example, imagine a society in which sons and daughters are treated very differently within the family, with sons having a privileged role and daughters being expected to behave in subordinate ways and to accept different kinds of opportunities (schooling, employment, sports). How will the institutions and social arrangements of adult society be affected by this feature of family behavior? The answer seems clear: privilege and subordination between boys and girls in the family will seem “natural” and this inequality will carry over into civil society. The institutions of a society consisting of individuals shaped within these family norms and practices will themselves reflect the domination and subordination associated with familial roles for boys and girls.

So what kind of principles and practices must a healthy just society embody? The final two sentences of the paragraph bring the point home. The background principles of a just society “must give priority to those basic freedoms and opportunities … that enable us to become free and equal citizens in the first place, and to understand our role as persons with that status.” Conversely, a society that does not give priority to equality and basic freedoms will result in generations of citizens who are unable to become “free and equal citizens”. Such a society requires reform before it can become a just and equal democracy.

So a just society over time needs to ensure the legal, normative, and institutional principles that establish basic (and equal) freedoms and opportunities. This means that social, familial, or cultural practices that are inconsistent with equal freedoms and opportunities must be altered. The practice of treating daughters as subordinate is toxic to the creation of a just society because it fails to embody the conditions required for creating men and women who understand themselves as free and equal citizens, and who respect each other accordingly.

This line of thought has direct relevance to the history of racism and racial discrimination in the United States and other countries. It is part of what Charles Mills is getting at in his critique of “the racial contract”. If racial subordination and discrimination are woven into the experience of childhood and young adulthood, then the ambient social institutions and practices fail the test Rawls is proposing. They fail to give priority “to basic freedoms and opportunities … that enable us to become free and equal citizens in the first place”. It is therefore a first priority that such a society, and the state that governs such a society, must make strenuous and sustained efforts at reforming the social environment in which citizens form their “moral powers” and develop their comprehensive conceptions of the good. That means finding effective ways of removing racial subordination and racist ways of thinking from society.

It is a fact that creating a just society is a process of “boot-strapping”, in which one series of improvements lays the basis for new improvements at the next level. Establishing legal and political equality for all groups — a basic tenet of progressive liberalism in the 1950s — was a pressing goal. It is not yet achieved. The next pressing goal is to find ways of changing the experiences that children and young adults have of inter-group relations. Forms of behavior and ideas of prejudice are formed through lived experience; so teachers, family members, members of civic associations and places of worship, and political leaders can provide powerful and transformative examples that cultivate mutual respect, tolerance, and compassion across groups.

But the point to emphasize here is that both activities — establishing equal constitutional rights and liberties, and changing the developmental environment so as to cultivate attitudes of respect, tolerance, and compassion for others — both these activities are mandatory for a “becoming-just” society, according to Rawls’s prescriptions here. The goal of both kinds of reforms is the same: to “enable us to become free and equal citizens” and to participate fully in a just and multicultural society.

Grounds for impeachment

In his speech to the top officers of the United States military Donald Trump has crossed the line from reckless right-wing authoritarian politician to aspiring fascist dictator. Here is a report from the Washington Post on the unprecedented event; scroll down to Amy Wang’s coverage of his speech. Here are some crucial excerpts from her reporting.

In his speech to top military leaders, President Donald Trump escalated his rhetoric against the “radical left,” repeatedly calling the group “the enemy within” and insisting that he should be able to use military force in American cities.

“I told [Defense Secretary] Pete [Hegseth] we should use some of these dangerous cities as training grounds for our military National Guard. But military, because we’re going into Chicago,” Trump said Tuesday at Quantico, referring to his efforts to deploy military to blue cities and states “to keep domestic order and peace.”

Though Trump has, in recent months, frequently attacked blue cities and states, it was the first time he directly addressed military leaders and told them they would be “a major part” of fighting a “war from within” in cities such as San Francisco, Chicago, New York and Los Angeles.

“We’ve brought back the fundamental principle that defending the homeland is the military’s first and most important priority. That’s what it is,” Trump said. “Only in recent decades that politicians somehow come to believe that our job is to police the far reaches of Kenya and Somalia, while America is under invasion from within. We’re under invasion from within. No different than a foreign enemy, but more difficult in many ways because they don’t wear uniforms — at least when they’re wearing a uniform, you can take them out. These people don’t have uniforms, but we are under invasion from within, and we’re stopping it very quickly.”

Dangerous cities … enemy within … invasion from within … demonization of the “radical left” … This is not the language of an American president who is committed to democracy, constitution, equal rights, and the rule of law. This is not the language of a president who respects the idea of a non-political military. It is not the language of a president who respects the rights of citizens to assemble, to protest, to express their values and their opposition in a peaceful manner. It is rather the language of a Mussolini in Italy, a Pinochet in Chile, or a Juan Carlos Ongania in Argentina in 1966.

And who is the “radical left” to whom Trump refers? It seems to be any person or group who disagrees with the MAGA agenda, who objects to Trump’s lawlessness, who rejects the racism and cruelty of his anti-immigration crusade — in short, anyone who is not MAGA. Are reporters next? What about critical bloggers and Youtube hosts or podcasters? What about leaders of civil rights organizations who object to the explicit racism of ICE profiling on the streets of Chicago or Los Angeles? And how about Democrat senators and congressmen and women who oppose Trump’s plans? Are these the “radical left” that Trump wants to wage war against? Is James Comey just the first high-profile persecution by Trump’s Department of Justice that we will see? Are we talking detention camps for liberals? Are we thinking of firing professors whose courses mention racism and slavery?

We have a constitution, and it is very clear about our fundamental rights — rights of freedom of speech, conscience, association, and habeas corpus, and yes, citizenship by birthright. The president demonstrates that he has no respect or adherence to the principles and values that are embodied in our constitution and our system of law.

The president’s threats about waging war against “internal enemies” and using the military to conduct such an assault should be the basis for impeachment. These threats demonstrate a fundamental disregard and disloyalty to our most basic principles of freedom and equality. This shouldn’t be a political party issue; it concerns the loyalty of the president to the constitution of the United States, and the oath he took when he assumed office. Articles of impeachment now!

Racial assumptions in western political philosophy

A prior post asked whether liberal political philosophy can be “anti-racist”. Charles Mills addresses a related question in much more radical terms. He offers a fundamental critique of European/American liberal philosophy grounded in his view that the “social contract” tradition embodies a comprehensive “racial contract” that embodies racial hierarchy and white supremacy. Here is Mills’s critical overview of the social contract tradition from Hobbes to Rawls:

The social contract is, by definition, classically voluntaristic, modeling the polity on a basis of individualized consent. What justifies the authority of the state over us is that “we the people” agreed to give it that authority. (On the older, “feudal” patriarchal model, by contrast—the model of Sir Robert Filmer, Locke’s target in the Second Treatise—people were represented as being born into subordination.) The legitimacy of the state derives from the freely given consent of the signatories to transfer or delegate their rights to it, and its role in the mainstream moralized/constitutionalist version of the contract (Lockean/Kantian) is, correspondingly, to protect those rights and safeguard the welfare of its citizens. The liberal-democratic state is then an ethical state, whether in the minimalist, night-watchman Lockean version of enforcing noninterference with citizens’ rights or in the more expansive redistributivist version of actively promoting citizens’ welfare. In both cases the liberal state is neutral in the sense of not privileging some citizens over others. Correspondingly, the laws that are passed have as their rationale this juridical regulation of the polity for generally acceptable moral ends.

This idealized model of the liberal-democratic state has, of course, been challenged from various political directions over the past century or so: the recently revived Hegelian moral critique from the perspective of a competing, allegedly superior ideal, a communitarian state seeking actively to promote a common conception of the good; the degraded version of this in the fascist corporatist state; the anarchist challenge to all states as usurping bodies of legitimized violence; and what has been the most influential radical critique up till recently, the Marxist analysis of the state as an instrument of class power, so that the liberal-democratic state is supposedly unmasked as the bourgeois state, the state of the ruling class.

My claim is that the model of the Racial Contract shows us that we need another alternative, another way of theorizing about and critiquing the state: the racial, or white-supremacist, state, whose function inter alia is to safeguard the polity as a white or white-dominated polity, enforcing the terms of the Racial Contract by the appropriate means and, when necessary, facilitating its rewriting from one form to another. (Racial Contract, 111-112)

Mills is especially critical of the choice made by modern liberal social contract theorists like John Rawls to restrict their attention to “ideal theory of justice” without paying attention to the actual systemic injustices that US society embodied. In particular, he is highly critical of the fact that these liberal political philosophers have completely ignored the history and current realities of racial domination and oppression in the United States. He argues, along the lines of the main argument in Racial Contract, that this reflects the continued hegemony of the assumptions of White / European supremacy that he maintains were present within social contract theory from its beginnings.

The retreat of mainstream normative moral and political theory into an “ideal” theory that ignores race merely rescripts the Racial Contract as the invisible writing between the lines. So John Rawls, an American working in the late twentieth century, writes a book on justice widely credited with reviving postwar political philosophy in which not a single reference to American slavery and its legacy can be found, and Robert Nozick creates a theory of justice in holdings predicated on legitimate acquisition and transfer without more than two or three sentences acknowledging the utter divergence of U.S. history from this ideal. (Mills 1997, Racial Contract, 106)

And in Black Rights / White Wrongs (2017) he argues: 

Rawls and Nozick may be in conflict over left-wing versus right-wing liberalism, but both offer us idealized views of the polity that ignore the racial subordination rationalized by racial liberalism. Rawls and Sandel may be in conflict over contractarian liberalism versus neo-Hegelian communitarianism, but neither confronts how the whiteness of the actual American contract and its conception of the right and of the actual American community and its conception of the good affects their views of justice and the self. Late Rawls may be in conflict with early Rawls about political versus comprehensive liberalism, but neither addresses the question of the ways in which both versions have been shaped by race , whether through an ” overlapping consensus ” (among whites) or a “reflective equilibrium” (of whites). (Mills 2017 : 32)

An important manifestation of the importance of features of “imperfect justice” is the fact that a current generation of society may embody ways of thinking, stereotypes, and prejudices that serve to reproduce racist, sexist, or religious discrimination in the next generation. Is there any doubt that cultures of discrimination, disparagement, and bias continue to exist in American society? Of course not; the persistence of these attitudes and behaviors are all too evident, even when expressed in indirect and “socially acceptable” ways. And these attitudes and emotions have consequences for the freedoms of the men and women who are the object of these prejudices. Mills writes in The Racial Contract:

Similarly, a study of how “American apart-heid” is maintained points out that whereas in the past realtors would have simply refused to sell to blacks, now blacks “are met by a realtor with a smiling face who, through a series of ruses, lies, and deceptions, makes it hard for them to learn about, inspect, rent, or purchase homes in white neighborhoods. . . . Because the discrimination is latent, however, it is usually unobservable, even to the person experiencing it. One never knows for sure.” (Mills 1997 [quoting Massey and Denton, American Apartheid, 84, 97-98]

This is one concrete mechanism of cross-generational racial domination. A few minutes of reflection can allow us to identify numerous other mechanisms through which current racialized thinking leads to future racial domination and disparity. For example, health disparities often derive from assumptions made by caregivers based on racial or gender stereotypes — sometimes entirely unconsciously. Employment decisions are influenced by stereotyped assumptions about a person based on gender, race, or ethnicity. The racial assumptions and attitudes of police officers often lead to differential treatment of members of the public, including increased likelihood of excessive force and firearms against one group as compared to another. And there are many other examples as well.

Failing to consider “non-ideal justice” is crippling for political philosophy, because it leaves completely unspoken the moral fact that discrimination, oppression, and violence are morally and socially unacceptable and that these evils are pervasive in contemporary society; and it leaves no place for focused thinking about how to move from a non-ideal society to a more just society.

So far Mills offers a damning view of the social contract tradition. However, in Black Rights / White Wrongs he suggests that Rousseau does a better job of bringing “domination” into the discussion of justice and the state. Here he draws extensively from Rousseau’s discussion in the First and Second Discourses:

Rousseau can be seen as initiating an alternative, radical democratic strain in contract theory, one that seeks to expose the realities of domination behind the façade and ideology of liberal consensuality. He retains the two key insights captured by the contract metaphor, the constructed nature of the polity and the recognition of human moral equality, but he incorporates them into a more realistic narrative that shows how they are perverted. Some human beings come to dominate others, denying them the equality they enjoyed in the state of nature. (Mills 2017: 36)

Rousseau, then, is at least open to the idea that “non-ideal” features of social life demand philosophical attention. This view creates an entrance for a more fully anti-racist political philosophy within the social contract tradition. It aligns with the political philosophy of republicanism and Philip Pettit’s views in  Republicanism : a theory of freedom and government (link), in that Mills’s remarks here emphasize “freedom as non-domination”. If freedom means a set of social arrangements in which no individual or group has the power to dominate others, then a constitution guaranteeing freedom is one that authorizes appropriate steps for recognizing and ending past and present forms of domination.

Mills’s criticisms of the social contract tradition are highly negative. Mills seems to suggest that the tradition is entirely useless as a basis for thinking about justice. However, a more nuanced view would allow that this tradition has largely ignored racial domination, a gaping blindspot that demands correction; but that the abstract philosophical principles through which Rawls, Locke, or Rousseau reasoned about freedom, equality, and consent are indeed appropriate principles for thinking about the just society. Suitably embedded in a philosophy that acknowledges categorical inequality and racism, these principles can in fact be quite radical in their implications for needed reform. And it is worth noting that Rawls does not ignore racial discrimination completely; rather, he looks at its injustice as being obvious and beyond debate. His restatement of this point in Justice as Fairness emphasizes the topic of domination and subservience in language that converges with that of Pettit:

Significant political and economic inequalities are often associated with inequalities of social status that encourage those of lower status to be viewed both by themselves and by others as inferior. This may arouse widespread attitudes of deference and servility, on one side, and a will to dominate and arrogance on the other. These effects of social and economic inequalities can be serious evils and the attitudes they engender great vices… Fixed status ascribed by birth, or by gender or race, is particularly odious (Justice as Fairness, 131).

Particularly odious … that doesn’t sound like a silent endorsement of racial discrimination and domination.

Rawls also addresses the religious arguments used by the abolitionists and by Martin Luther King, Jr., in the context of the issue of public reason versus “comprehensive reason” (arguments based on a particular comprehensive conception of the good). From the point of view of justice, only public reasons have force, since there is no politically relevant comprehensive conception of the good.

On this account the abolitionists and the leaders of the civil rights movement did not go against the ideal of public reason; or rather, they did not provided they thought, or on reflection would have thought (as they certainly could have thought), that the comprehensive reasons they appealed to were required to give sufficient strength to the political conception to be subsequently realized. To be sure, people do not normally distinguish between comprehensive and public reasons; nor do they normally affirm the ideal of public reason, as we have expressed it. Yet people can be brought to recognize these distinctions in particular cases. The abolitionists could say, for example, that they supported political values of freedom and equality for all, but that given the comprehensive doctrines they held and the doctrines current in their day, it was necessary to invoke the comprehensive grounds on which those values were widely seen to rest.289 Given those historical conditions, it was not unreasonable of them to act as they did for the sake of the ideal of public reason itself. In this case, the ideal of public reason allows the inclusive view. (Political Liberalism, 251)

His view is that both the 19th-century abolitionists and civil rights activists like MLK made compelling arguments because their “comprehensive” (religious) arguments are entirely supported by public arguments based on equality and equal freedom. Here again, it seems clear that Rawls’s underlying view is one that regards racial inequalities as fundamentally unjust, within the terms of justice as fairness. Though Rawls did not explicitly put this point forward, it is a strong endorsement of the justice of the demands for equality being advanced by the civil rights movement in the 1960s.

Tommie Shelby has done substantial work in attempting to help thread the way between the ideal theory offered by Rawls and the concrete, sociological and historical realities of racial oppression that Mills believes must be incorporated into theories of the just society. Shelby’s 2017 book Dark Ghettos: Injustice, Dissent, and Reform offers an extensive and nuanced reformulation of “justice as fairness” in terms that do take racial oppression into account. Here is a key paragraph:

Rawls has suggested that if we were to conceive of society as a system of social cooperation over time and took an impartial view of what the distribution of benefi ts and burdens of participating in this scheme ought to be, we could arrive at conclusions about what social justice requires that warrant our rational assent. The idea of society as a fair system of cooperation is a moral notion to be used in the evaluation of institutional arrangements. Social justice is constituted by the legitimate claims and responsibilities individuals have within a fair overall social arrangement. Thought about in this way, justice is a matter of reciprocity between persons who regard each other as equals. Taking this approach to questions of social justice is particularly apt when considering criticisms often made against the ghetto poor. It provides a framework for settling whether the urban poor are doing their fair share in upholding the system of cooperation and whether they are receiving the fair share due them as equal participants in this system. Reciprocity, as a central value in liberal political morality, is the primary normative standpoint from which I reflect on family structure, joblessness, and crime in ghetto neighborhoods. (Dark Ghettos, 20)

Mills in turn expresses his own disagreement with Shelby’s approach to Rawls in “Dark Mores: Some Comments on Tommie Shelby’s Dark Ghettos: Injustice, Dissent, and Reform“. Shelby offers a concise summary of his own position in “Racial realities and corrective justice: A reply to Charles Mills” (Critical Philosophy of Race 1:2 (2013)):

In all these interventions, the main thrust of Mills’s critique is to emphasize the need to attend carefully to the realities of racial domination and to deny the value of a normative theory that abstracts away from the actual history of racial injustice. However, this critique has been mainly negative, telling us how not to derive principles of racial justice. Apart from vague suggestions that reparations are due for past racial injustices (e.g., for slavery and land expropriation), the positive normative analysis remains undeveloped. What we get instead is an emphasis on the necessity of getting the historical facts right about white supremacy. Mills does not offer his own positive normative principles for condemning or responding to the history of racial domination that he so forcefully describes. By contrast, Rawls does offer a specific set of normative principles of justice that, I argue, can be usefully applied to racial subordination. Mills, so far as I am aware, does not argue that if we were to follow his methodological approach we would arrive at principles that conflict with the ones that Rawls defends. Nor does he specifically attack or attempt to reformulate Rawls’s principles. So our dispute does not turn on the content of those two principles. (link)

Both Mills and Shelby offer deep and valuable new lines of thought to political philosophy, and their debate is a sign of healthy engagement within a field of philosophy that has sometimes come down to disagreements about the third decimal point. Bringing structures of race and domination into the dialogue within political philosophy is profoundly important.

Can liberal political philosophy support anti-racism?

John Rawls and Philip Pettit agree about the idea that a liberal democracy depends on the idea that all citizens have equal liberties, rights, worth, and dignity. Therefore they also agree that social and legal arrangements that are incompatible with equal rights, equal liberties, and equal dignity are illegitimate. They disagree in some details about what all of this means — Pettit refers to liberty as “the absence of domination” (link), while Rawls emphasizes the liberty to pursue one’s conception of the good in the way he or she chooses (link). But the common ground between these leading advocates of liberal democracy is extensive. And each philosopher provides an unequivocal basis for rejecting mistreatment and discrimination based on race, ethnicity, or other social characteristics.

What is less clear is whether either of these philosophers has a place for the idea that an inclusive multicultural democracy — in Rousseau’s conception, a “free community of equals” — has a positive value for the whole of society, and whether enhancing this value is itself a legitimate function of a democratic state. These are separate questions, and it is possible that Rawls and Pettit would affirm the first but deny the second. Rawls’s view in A Theory of Justice and Political Liberalism is largely that the function of the state is (1) to establish and secure the system of law within which all citizens enjoy maximal, equal rights and liberties, and (2) to establish a legitimate majoritarian process through which policies and laws are enacted subject to the authority of the majority of citizens. Anything more extensive than this falls outside the scope of legitimate exercise of coercive authority, according to Rawls. His distinction between a “political conception of the good” and a “comprehensive conception of the good” is crucial for his view of the scope of the state’s authority: the former consists of the minimal commitments that all citizens share concerning the functions and limitations of the state and its legal system; whereas the latter consists of a fully developed set of ideas and values that individuals or groups may adopt for orienting their lives and activities, but concerning which the liberal state must remain neutral (link).

So, for example, the state cannot undertake on its own, without democratically enacted legislation, to ensure a beautiful natural environment, simply on a governmental judgement that “all of society is better off when the natural environment is maintained for public enjoyment”. For Rawls, this judgment falls within a “comprehensive conception of the good”, and cannot be taken as a function of government without majority-supported legislation. By contrast, the state is fully authorized to enact rules and procedures that guarantee free and unfettered elections, because the right to vote is a fundamental democratic right shared equally by all citizens and part of the “overlapping consensus” (the political conception of the good) required for any democracy.

We can raise this question from two related perspectives: the perspective of idealized political philosophy (abstract theorizing about what constitutes a good and well-ordered society and state) and the perspective of the minimum legal and constitutional requirements needed to ensure the equal liberties and rights of individual citizens (minimalist theory). The first is intended to articulate a vision for the future of social life within a democratic society, while the second perspective is intended to articulate the protections of rights and liberties that every legitimate state must embody.

Is there a basis in the “minimalist” version of the liberal democratic state that gives broad authority to government as well as private and public organizations to take positive measures to cultivate attitudes of racial acceptance and respect among their constituents? Can a liberal democratic state enact a set of arrangements through which citizens will learn the values of tolerance and compassion, and learn of the harmful effects of attitudes involving negative stereotypes about members of other groups? And if the answer is that government itself cannot undertake such measures, are private organizations and relatively autonomous public institutions free to do so when it comes to organizing the functioning, supervision, and training of an agency, a private workplace, or a university? Or does the minimalist perspective on political philosophy involve only restrictions on actions that harm others or reduce the freedoms of others, with no basis for undertaking to change how people think? Perhaps “cultivating mutual tolerance, interest, and respect” is itself a value about which reasonable people may differ.

We might imagine, for example, a “liberal cultural separatist” who fully endorses and respects the equal civil and legal rights of member of other groups, and this person condemns discrimination against individuals based on their particular characteristics. However, this person prefers to associate with members of his/her own group and believes that others should do so as well. “Separation of groups is best for the social order,” according to this version of the good society. If so, then according to Rawls the goal of “building a tolerant and inter-connected society” belongs to a “comprehensive conception of the good”, and the state must remain neutral about this value. Citizens are entirely free to form their own associations and advocacy groups around these values, but the state must not take a side.

To put the point somewhat differently, are the ideas of tolerance, compassion, and respect simply specific visions of inter-group relations, to be debated alongside a number of competing views as “comprehensive conceptions of the good” — with the implication that this particular vision cannot be enforced through state mandates? A traditional liberal like John Stuart Mill (and perhaps Rawls as well) might argue that if the values of a tolerant and respectful society make up a compelling idea, then advocates should be able to persuade a majority of citizens to agree. In that case these programs can be democratically enacted through enabling legislation. But if the idea remains “visionary and confined to a small minority” then the state cannot use its coercive power to enact policies based on this vision of a more tolerant society.

On this line of thought the answer to the question is not much different from the formulation offered by J.S. Mill: liberalism is committed to individual freedoms, including freedom of speech and association, and these commitments are fundamental. So the legal system must give substantial deference to the opinions, statements, and programs of individuals, and much of the same deference is due to private and public institutions as well. The task of struggling for anti-racism, toleration, mutual respect, and communication across major racial and ethnic divisions is to be left to private associations rather than to state legislative authority.

On this view of a liberal society, individuals and their free associations have the right to advocate for an inclusive multicultural democracy, and for the steps needed to create such a world. What about other organizations? Is it legitimate for businesses, public school systems, colleges and universities, and labor unions to adopt similar resolutions? Is it legitimate for these organizations within civil society to enact procedures and requirements within their scope that are designed to influence the thinking and behavior of the individuals who make up those organizations? Do private organizations like businesses, private universities, and non-profit organizations have a zone of autonomy that permits them to undertake “pro-inclusiveness” policies, procedures, and training regimes? And what about organizations owned or directed by the “liberal cultural separatists” considered above — do they too have autonomy to enact processes that further embed prejudice and stereotype?

What seems to be lacking within liberalism, both traditional and contemporary, is a way of coping with “imperfect justice” and the fact that the current generation of society may embody ways of thinking, stereotypes, and prejudices that serve to reproduce racist, sexist, or religious discrimination in the next generation. (Charles Mills explores these ideas in The Racial Contract and Black Rights/White Wrongs: The Critique of Racial Liberalism.) However, to go beyond racism, it seems clear that a process of moral transformation is needed. Children, young people, and adults need to come to understand the history of racist thinking and action in our country and to recognize the value of respecting the equality and dignity of members of other groups.

The assault on “Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion” programs in universities, corporations, and government departments currently underway (link) seems to reflect a status quo mentality when it comes to racial prejudice and stereotype: “we are who we are, and there is no need for change”. More bluntly, it reflects an ideology of white supremacy. But as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. expressed so vividly, racial equality and justice will only come to pass when the people of our nation have undertaken the hard work of confronting the realities and persistence of racism. Personal transformation is a necessary step on the way to human equality.

These reflections suggest that liberal theories of justice like those offered by Pettit and Rawls need to be supplemented by two things: (1) A clear and developed elaboration of the value of a pluralistic multicultural democracy based on real equality and respect across groups. Such an account will demonstrate both the value of such a society and its connection to profound ideas about liberty, equality, and humanity. (2) A clear account of the extended processes of learning that will be needed to get from here to there. Such an account will incorporate a realistic appraisal of the ways in which persistent racial attitudes and habits inform the next generation’s social environment as well, and it will provide some ideas about how to accomplish these transformations at multiple levels. Achieving racial justice, and ending antagonism and mistrust across groups in society, requires good laws, but it also requires sustained processes of personal transformation for citizens of all ages.

A political philosophy for an inclusive multicultural democracy

 We might say that a political philosophy is a formulation of the normative ideals that the philosopher holds to be primary in implementing the moral and social facts of “assemblages of free individuals in society, with conflicts of interest and belief”. How should such a society be organized? What values should it aspire to realize through its laws and practices? What forms of constitution, law, and state are best for the realization of the individuals who live within the society?

Here I want to lay out the skeleton of a political philosophy incorporating the ideals of an inclusive multicultural democracy. I maintain that a stable and inclusive multicultural democracy is a positive value for the whole of society: all citizens are benefited by a varied and harmonious population of peoples with distinct traditions, values, and practices. This is a society in which there are many groups and identities in society (racial, ethnic, sexual, class, nationality), and in which members of these groups have the moral emotions of compassion and respect towards members of other groups. Difference exists without discrimination and prejudice; more fundamentally, difference exists within the context of a cohesive sense of shared community. Rather than antagonism there is friendship across groups.

This political philosophy corresponds closely to many of the ideas about racial justice formulated by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. during his efforts to find a way towards greater racial justice in the United States. Several ideas in King’s political philosophy stand out in particular. First, his idea of the “Beloved Community” emphasizes that the transformations needed to achieve a good multiracial society go beyond establishing formal legal equality for all, to enhancing the moral emotions of compassion and mutual caring as human beings [“Birth of a New Nation” (1957), “Facing the Challenge of a New Age” (1957), “Stride Toward Freedom” (1958)]. The multiracial society that King envisioned involves a cohesive community of mutual respect, understanding, and compassion. Second, King’s discussions of a future for racial justice in America and other countries always invokes the need for moral transformation — for a change in the way that people think about their fellow human beings with compassion and respect. Third, King’s conception of a just future invokes a deep recognition of shared humanity across race, ethnicity, and other group identities. This advances the idea that citizens in a just multicultural democracy will experience the moral emotions of compassion and respect for each other. King described this as a kind of “civic friendship” in which people from different groups succeed in living together harmoniously and leads them to experience a sense of goodwill and shared identity with their fellow citizens.

All of this requires moral transformation of generations of citizens. Freedom from discrimination, violence, and prejudice is only the beginning of a good multiracial society. Rather, real, concrete human beings need to come to think and feel differently about their humanity and the humanity of others around them.

For King these ideas are placed within a religious or spiritual interpretation, but the theological point is not essential; the values King articulates can be equally endorsed from a purely secular and humanist point of view.

What are those good effects thought to follow from achieving a “harmonious, tolerant, and mutually respectful multicultural society”? Several lines of thought are relevant here. Take Martha Nussbaum’s argument that “compassion is the fundamental moral emotion” and her view that compassion must be learned (link). Exposure to the lived experience and traditions of people different from oneself is a powerful way of developing greater compassion for others — and this presumably makes for better neighbors, citizens, and human beings. Or take the idea that “ethnic conflict is a constant threat in divided societies” (link). It can be argued that a multicultural society that has extensive experience in engaging across communities (racial groups, religious groups, ethnic groups, sexual identities) will be more resilient when crises and conflicts arise (link). I’m thinking here of events like disagreements between neighbors that escalate along racial or ethnic lines; occasions when opportunistic political leaders actively cultivate inter-group suspicion and antagonism; or when economic events occur that seem to divide groups along racial, religious, or ethnic lines. A final benefit that we can imagine is the rewarding experience of learning from another person’s experience or traditions about the norms and events that shaped them, and the reflective benefit that such learning can have for one’s understanding of him or herself (link). For reasons like these we might say that we are all better off if we live in a tolerant and respectful community, and the community itself will be healthier and perhaps even more productive as a result.

So achieving a just, stable, and cohesive multicultural democracy is a worthwhile goal. But will a well-ordered liberal democratic state have the authority — and perhaps the duty — to take measures that enhance the workings of a multicultural democracy? These ideas about inclusive democracy make up a feature of a specific political philosophy, a theory of the values that a good and just society ought to strive to realize. But how can these features be realized within a liberal constitution defining “a good and just society”? Would we do better to recognize that these are ideas open to democratic debate for consideration by the population itself?

In order to bring about a “stable and inclusive multicultural democracy”, it seems evident that citizens themselves need to embrace these values. And this means education. This may mean taking steps to change the ways that children, young people, and adults think about the different groups in their society through education, celebrations, and “inclusive practices” in private and public institutions like corporations, places of work, and universities. This may take the form of promoting forms of education for children that emphasize the values of mutual tolerance and acceptance across lines of race, culture, or ethnicity; it may take the form of universities celebrating Juneteenth or the birthday of Martin Luther King, Jr.; or it may take the form of hosting a reading of the poetry of Audre Lorde or the fiction of James Baldwin. The goal of such activities is to actively encourage the psychology of acceptance and mutual understanding across social, racial, and cultural divisions in our society.

There are obvious ways of connecting “institutional encouragement of inter-group tolerance and respect” to the agreed-upon mandate of achieving “equal rights of liberty, participation, and opportunity” for all groups. It can be argued that persistent prejudice in a segment of a population is itself a mechanism through which out-group disadvantage is maintained (Mills, The Racial Contract). Residential segregation leads to other social ills for the segregated group (health disparities, for example) and so the mechanisms that lead to the persistent residential segregation, which surely include latent prejudice and negative affect towards the out-group, can legitimately be targeted by state programs aiming at reducing prejudice and antagonism. So “anti-prejudice” and “tolerance-enhancing” programs and educational initiatives are a legitimate mechanism for achieving progress towards civil and social equality, to the extent that we can demonstrate that these efforts are efficacious. This is an instrumental justification for public and private programs aimed at reducing prejudice, stereotype, disrespect for others, and outright antagonism.

However, MLK wanted to argue for a stronger view: that achieving a harmonious, tolerant, and mutually respectful multicultural society is good in itself as an important and beneficial goal for the whole of society — not merely instrumentally valuable for achieving civil equality. In fact, it is a fundamental value for a modern democracy. Can this position be supported within liberal political philosophy? And can achieving a tolerant and respectful citizenry be considered a legitimate duty of the state?

There is a strong basis for arguing that a political philosophy articulating the values of a respectful, compassionate, and free community of equals across all groups in society is an excellent basis for thinking about the challenges of twenty-first century social life. We can offer both intrinsic and instrumental reasons for thinking that progress towards this ideal — a version of Martin Luther King Jr.’s Beloved Community — would lead to a better social world. What is less clear is whether a state organized around the principles of traditional liberalism can effectively adopt — or even tolerate — the steps needed to transform society in a more tolerant and compassionate direction. Seen in this light, the struggle over DEI raises profound questions about the possibility of progress towards real racial justice in our democracy.

(Tommie Shelby and Brandon M. Terry’s edited collection, To Shape a New World: Essays on the Political Philosophy of Martin Luther King, Jr., provides an excellent and detailed new beginning for understanding MLK’s political philosophy.)

The consequences of a trillion dollars

Many thoughtful people in the US are concerned about the effects that the 2025 federal budget reconciliation law will have on poor people in many states who are currently enrolled in Medicaid health coverage. KFF has put together a comprehensive analysis of the implications of this omnibus act for Medicaid patients here. I asked Gemini for a summary of the impact this massive change in Medicaid will have, with over $1 trillion reductions in Medicaid spending over the coming ten years(!). Here is the analysis Gemini provided:

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QUERY:  what are the main effects of the 2025 budget bill on Medicaid recipients?

GEMINI RESPONSE 8/21/25

The 2025 budget bill, also known as the One Big Beautiful Bill Act (OBBBA), includes significant changes to the Medicaid program, which is expected to have a considerable impact on recipients. 

Here are the main effects of the 2025 budget bill on Medicaid recipients:

• Significant funding cuts: The bill implements an estimated $1.035 trillion reduction in federal Medicaid spending over ten years. These cuts will necessitate states either increasing their own funding or reducing services, potentially affecting various benefits, according to the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities.
• Work requirements: The bill introduces work reporting requirements, referred to as “community engagement” activities, for most Medicaid expansion enrollees aged 19 to 64. These recipients will need to work, volunteer, or participate in educational activities for at least 80 hours per month to maintain their eligibility.
• Increased paperwork and administrative burdens: The new requirements will place a greater administrative burden on recipients to verify their eligibility and for states to manage the process, potentially leading to some eligible individuals losing coverage due to difficulties navigating the system.
• More frequent eligibility redeterminations: States will be required to conduct eligibility redeterminations for Medicaid expansion adults every six months, rather than annually, starting January 1, 2027. This increased frequency could lead to coverage losses for those unable to complete the renewal process on time or with changes in circumstances.
• Cost-sharing requirements: States are now mandated to impose cost-sharing requirements of up to $35 per service for Medicaid expansion enrollees with incomes above 100% of the federal poverty level, says the Center for American Progress. Out-of-pocket costs will remain capped at 5% of family income.
• Restrictions on immigrant eligibility: Some categories of lawfully present immigrants will lose eligibility for Medicaid and Medicare under the bill, notes the Center for Medicare Advocacy.
• Potential impacts on specific services: Reductions in federal funding might lead states to cut optional benefits, including home- and community-based services (HCBS) that are crucial for individuals with disabilities and older adults.
• Increased risk for certain groups: Older adults, people with disabilities, and individuals in rural areas are particularly vulnerable to losing coverage or facing increased costs due to these changes. 

It’s important to remember that some provisions of the bill may have delayed effective dates, and future policy changes could still occur. 

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So why is this a big deal for lower- and lower-middle income people in the United States? Because it seems likely that millions of people will lose affordable health coverage, and many thousands of them will sicken and die from preventable illnesses. The Center on Budget and Policy Priorities (link) estimates that as many as 36 million people are at risk of losing Medicaid eligibility as a result of new work requirements. The Modern Medicaid Alliance is collecting stories of individual people whose Medicaid benefits have been (or will soon be) cancelled (link). These are short items drawn from various news outlets, and they paint a tragic picture from all over the country of the situations that will confront struggling low-income people, young and old, when these new Medicaid reductions begin to hit.

Let’s recall as well that health disparities in the US are severe by almost any measure. Here are disparities of infant mortality in NE Florida noted by Northeast Florida Healthy Start (link).

Health Disparities by Race

And here is a comparison of urban and rural mortality statistics offered by the Rural Health Information Hub (link).

Does anyone seriously doubt that reductions in Medicaid eligibility to millions of individuals will worsen these disparities? And for what? To reduce taxes on the top 1% of income earners in the US.

Caillebotte's silences

A current exhibition of the paintings of Gustave Caillebotte (1848-1894) at the Art Institute in Chicago is quite remarkable. It demonstrates the eye, the hand, and the sensibility of this great late-Impressionist painter. But the exhibition is remarkable in another way as well: there is almost no evidence in the paintings on exhibit, or the curatorial texts that support the exhibition, that conveys the intense and prolonged social, political, and military conflict of the period from the late 1840s through the defeat of the Paris Commune (1871).

Caillebotte himself served in the French military during the siege of Paris by the Prussian Army (1870-1871). In the text describing the exhibition at the Musée d’Orsay in Paris a curator writes briefly of his service: “But during the Franco-Prussian War (1870-1871), [Caillebotte] was drafted into the 7th Battalion of the Garde Nationale Mobile de la Seine and assigned to the defense of Paris” (link). The detail about his service in the 7th Battalion of the Garde Nationale Mobile is especially telling. Michael Howard describes the Battle of Buzenval in these terms:

The battle of Buzenval, as it was to be called, settled the fate of Paris. More, it destroyed once for all the belief that a People in Arms could overwhelm a trained enemy by sheer numbers and burning zeal. It was the action for which the clubs had for so long yearned—the sortie en masse. Nearly 90,000 men were involved, of whom about half came from the Garde Nationale, and at dawn on 19th January they debouched from Mont Valérien, and advanced against the German defences between Bougival and St Cloud along a four-mile front. (Howard, The Franco-Prussian War, p. 373).

This battle was yet another disaster for the French military. It essentially sealed the fate of the besieged city and forced surrender of the last part of France still resisting German control. If Caillebotte was an active participant in this battle, he would have had traumatic and transformative experiences of war; and if he was held in reserve in the city during this final break-out attempt, he would have had personal knowledge of the significance and suffering created by the siege of Paris and the several unsuccessful efforts to break the siege through counter-attacks. Surely this is an important element in his development as an observant human being and a painter. And yet there is no evidence in his paintings of the impression the trauma of Paris may have had upon him. It would seem that this is an important contextual feature that should play a highlighted role in the curatorial presentation of the exhibition; but it does not.

Stéphane Guégan, a scientific advisor to the Musée d'Orsay in Paris and author of Caillebotte: Peintre des extrêmes, considers the “military presences” in Caillebotte’s paintings. Referring to the first exhibition of the Impressionist group in 1874, he notes that “the [first Impressionist] exhibition did contain a few resounding echoes of the catastrophic situation from which the country was barely emerging: the crushing defeat of the Franco-Prussian War and the ensuing upheaval of the Paris Commune” (“The Shared War”, Gustave Caillebotte: Painting Men, p. 42). But virtually no such references occur in the exhibition that has travelled from Paris to Los Angeles to Chicago. Guégan notes several exceptions: the painting of a soldier in uniform and an almost imperceptible representation of a uniformed soldier in Le Pont de l’Europe.

But neither image gives any sense of the true military catastrophe of the Franco-Prussian War or its aftermath. Instead, the curators have chosen to organize their ideas about Caillebotte’s paintings around the form of masculinity represented by his work.

Contrast Caillebotte’s silence in his painting with that of Jean-Louis Ernest Meissonier, a generation senior to Caillebotte. Here is Meissonier’s 1849 depiction of a massacre he apparently witnessed following the defeat of the workers’ uprising in June 1848.

And here is Meissonier’s 1884 painting representing a scene of death and destruction during the siege of Paris in 1870:

Finally, here is a daguerrotype of a poignant scene following the massacre of Communards following the fall of the Commune in 1871:

The traumas represented in these images were part of the experience and memory of the people of Paris during those decades, including both Meissonier (who was 33 at the time of the 1848 workers’ uprising) and Caillebotte (who was born in 1848 and was a serving member of the Garde Nationale Mobile in 1870-1871 during the final months of the siege of Paris and the suppression of the Commune itself (by French forces). How could either of these painters not have been deeply affected by these traumatic events of contemporary French history? Meissonier’s paintings take note of these fundamental facts, but Caillebotte’s do not. And yet the exhibition gives no historical context at all that would highlight these important and surely formative events.

And what about Meissonier? His depiction of the massacre of workers in 1848 might suggest that he was offering sympathy and homage to the working class men and women who rose up in June, 1848. Alexis de Tocqueville and Alexander Herzen, both observers of the fighting in Paris in June 1848, offered sympathy and sorrow for the violence that overwhelmed the workers’ uprising. Here are comments offered by Herzen:

I listened to the thunder and the tocsin and gazed avidly at this panorama of Paris; it was as though I was taking my leave of it. At that moment I loved Paris passionately. It was my last tribute to the great town; after the June days it grew hateful to me. On the other side of the river barricades were being raised in all the streets and alleys. I can still see the gloomy faces of the men dragging stones; women and children were helping them. A young student from the Polytechnic climbed up on to an apparently completed barricade, planted the banner and started singing the Marseillaise in a soft, sad, solemn voice; all the workers joined in and the chorus of this great song, resounding from behind the stones of the barricades, gripped one’s soul. . . . The tocsin was still tolling. Meanwhile, the artillery clattered across the bridge and General Bedeau standing there raised his field-glasses to inspect the enemy positions. . . . (From the Other Shore, After the Storm, 46)

But this is not the current interpretation of Meissonier’s work. Rather, critics have suggested that the 1849 painting of the massacre at the barricade conveys a middle-class view of the insurrection, and serves as a caution for the future: “insurrection leads to massacre and death”, while the 1888 painting conveys a sense of patriotism and heroism.

An element of historical change that is entirely evident in Caillebotte’s paintings is the transformation of Paris by Baron Haussmann at the direction of Napoleon III. The “Paris Street: Rainy Day” painting above reflects the Haussmannization of Paris — the broad avenues, the “modernization” of life in the city, and the destruction of working class residential areas. This is a central theme in T.J. Clark’s interpretation of mid-century depictions of Paris in The Painting of Modern Life:

It seems that only when the city has been systematically occupied by the bourgeoisie, and made quite ruthlessly to represent that class’s rule, can it be taken by painters to be an appropriate and purely visual subject for their art….. For the House knew well that Haussmann’s modernity had been built by evicting the working class of Paris from the centre of the city, and putting it down on the hill of Belleville or the plains of La Villette, where the moon was still most often the only street light available. And what did painters do except join in the cynical laughter and propagate the myth of modernity? (The Painting of Modern Life, p. 51)

According to Clark, there was an overriding theme of class conflict and a fear of insurrection that drove both Napoleon III and Baron Haussmann in this urban project. They were concerned to “modernize” Paris in a way that would make working class rebellion (and the barricades through which previous uprisings had proceeded) impossible; troops and cannon would be able easily to clear the avenues of insurrection.

There was no disputing that part of Haussmann’s modernity was his wish to put an end to insurrection. He stated as much himself: it was a good argument to lean on when pleading for funds from the Conseil Municipal. Years after the event, he was still musing in his Mémoires over the hidden benefits of the Boulevard Sébastopol: “It meant the disembowelling of the old Paris, the quartier of uprisings and barricades, by a wide central street piercing through and through this almost impossible maze, and provided with communicating side streets, whose continuation would be bound to complete the work thus begun. The subsequent completion of the Rue de Turbigo made the Rue Transnonain [symbolic capital of the barricades] disappear from the map of Paris!” Nor was this merely a matter of hindsight on Haussmann’s part. The details of counterrevolution weighed heavily on the planners’ minds at the time: Napoleon intervened directly in 1857 to prevent the encirclement of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine from being spoiled by a mere architect’s whim: “the construction of arcades on the Boulevard Mazas,” he wrote, “would seriously damage the strategic system of Paris.” The arcades were quietly dropped from the designs. (75-76)

Here again the current exhibition’s curators have seemingly ignored the social and political context of the Haussmannization of Paris. They emphasize the “new modernity”, the dress of the mostly bourgeois men and women passing across the boulevards, and the relaxed scenes of conversation and amusement among Caillebotte’s male friends. But there is no curatorial mention at all of the political fears and imperatives that appear to have driven Napoleon III and Baron Haussmann in this wholesale restructuring of the urban environment of Paris. And there is no suggestion in the paintings on display in the current Caillebotte exhibition of a sensibility on the part of the painter to the underlying conflicts between working class Parisians and the bourgeoisie. There are notes of awareness and sympathy for working men and women in his corpus — for example, in the painting “The Floor Scrapers”. But there is no suggestion of his own awareness of the concrete circumstances of injustice, exploitation, or unnecessary misery in his paintings.

So the social conditions of class and war seem to be almost entirely absent in Caillebotte’s work. There is no sense of “social critique” or self-awareness of upper-middle-class position in these paintings. Caillebotte is silent about the most momentous events that transformed France and Paris during his adulthood, and this is surprising. But it is also surprising that the curators have not taken more notice of this absence.