The agonistic critique of liberalism argues that liberal theory unwisely eliminates conflict from the design of liberal-democratic institutions and understandings of liberal citizenship. John Stuart Mill anticipates and resolves the agonistic critique by incorporating several theories of antagonism into his political theory. At the institutional level, Mill places two antagonisms at the center of his political theory: the tension between the popular and bureaucratic elements in representative government, on the one hand, and that between the democratic and aristocratic elements in modern society, on the other. These tensions guarantee the fluidity of the political sphere. At the experiential level, Mill's embrace of antagonism is even more complete, as he argues that even our objectively correct opinions must be ceaselessly contested to become properly ours. The theory that emerges is both agonistic and liberal; further, it calls into question current liberal attitudes concerning conflict and antagonism.
Mill's On Liberty: A Critical Guide is a collection of ten essays and a substantial introduction by editor C. L. Ten. It is an early entry into a new series of 'Critical Guides' by Cambridge University Press, though it is unclear in what sense this collection is intended to fulfill its titular purpose. It is not a guide to criticism of Mill's greatest work-in fact, it does not often evaluate or even recount the longstanding debates in Mill scholarship-and it is not really particularly 'critical' in the sense of being a careful evaluation of the enduring puzzles found in On Liberty (OL). Nonetheless, students and scholars of Mill will find much of interest in these pages. The essays can be divided roughly into two groups-the first set addressing concerns arising from the text of OL itself, the second assessing the effectiveness of Mill's arguments in light of recent developments in political thought such as political liberalism, neo-republicanism, and multiculturalism. The first of the former is Henry West's 'Mill's case for liberty', which might, along with Ten's introductory chapter, serve as an instructive analytical guide to Mill's basic argument in OL. West skillfully considers several of the persistent ambiguities in Mill's argument, but the real value here is his insistence on linking Mill's account of liberty to his utilitarian desire to 'increase human happiness and decrease misery' (p. 37). David Brink's entry argues that Mill's defense of liberal rights extends from his defense of free expression. The two arguments against expressive paternalism developed in Chapter II of OL-what Brink calls the 'truth-tracking rationale' and the 'deliberative rationale'-direct the subsequent discussion of free action in Chapter III. The twist here is that the limits on freedom of action reflect back upon the discussion of expressive liberty. If some paternalism is justified with regard to action-here Brink points to Mill's prohibition on selling oneself into slavery (p. 56)-then, by the same logic, paternalism of the 'deliberation-enhancing' variety may be necessary in regards to expression. In 'Racism, blasphemy, and free speech', Jonathan Riley swaps the standard free-speech absolutism reading of OL for one of a 'general policy of laissez-faire' (p. 66) towards expression. According to Riley, Mill cannot and does not hold expression to be purely self-regarding and only therefore protected; rather, expression is best left alone because such an approach increases the general welfare to a greater extent than the opposite course. By this token, 'discussion'-the voluntary exchange of words-is sharply distinguished from presumably involuntary exchanges such as threats. Finally, in 'John Stuart Mill, Ronald Dworkin, and paternalism', Robert Young identifies and confronts four arguments against 'hard' paternalism developed by Mill in OL: first, that individuals typically know their interests better than others (including governments); second, that paternalistic guidelines seldom match up with on-the-ground realities; third, ...
For three hundred years, Bernard Mandeville was considered the first great apologist for luxury and the unsavory dimensions of commercial society, a reputation that remains largely intact even as scholars reconsider the depth and influence of his thought. Here, I argue that Mandeville’s attitude toward luxury and material excess is far more ambivalent—indeed, highly critical—than previously thought. As societies became wealthier and more literate, Mandeville saw both individuals and societies growing increasingly susceptible to discontent—to “grumbling,” as the original title of The Fable of the Bees has it. This focus on grumbling is particularly worthy of close study because Mandeville’s chief profession was medicine, and, more specifically, the treatment of hypochondria. Identifying the bourgeois lifestyle as the cause of hypochondria in both the body and the body politic led him to caution his patients against the very things with which his name is synonymous: luxury and excess.
James Mill holds a peculiar place in the history of political thought. Far better known for his personal associations than for his body of work, he forms one third – the least significant third – of the trinity of nineteenth‐century British utilitarianism: he became the close friend and intellectual comrade of Jeremy Bentham, and fathered the greatest British political philosopher of the nineteenth century, John Stuart Mill. In Mill's case, however, being known primarily for the company one keeps may have worked in his favor, for the reputation of his written work has suffered substantially since his death. However, Mill's oeuvre is worth studying: his History of British India remains an important if neglected work of philosophical history that illustrates in interesting ways the shift from the eighteenth‐century Scottish historiography of David Hume and Adam Ferguson to the more universalist and progressive utilitarian approach of nineteenth‐century liberals. More broadly, his political writings include important arguments concerning representation, democratic education, and the nature of political power, arguments that prefigure the methodology and insights of twentieth‐century social science.
Drawing on his past work as an interpreter of Adam Smith, Hanley offers an account of Fénelon’s social and political thought that emphasizes the role (and the dangers) of pride and self-love in human affairs. Fénelon does not join those, like Mandeville and La Rochefoucauld, who seek to understand and possibly to control self-love. Instead, he attempts to wed a far more rigorous and classical approach to the problem of pride—namely, the refinement of self-love through virtuous practices—to a modern view of the state and political economy.
scite is a Brooklyn-based organization that helps researchers better discover and understand research articles through Smart Citations–citations that display the context of the citation and describe whether the article provides supporting or contrasting evidence. scite is used by students and researchers from around the world and is funded in part by the National Science Foundation and the National Institute on Drug Abuse of the National Institutes of Health.
hi@scite.ai
10624 S. Eastern Ave., Ste. A-614
Henderson, NV 89052, USA
Copyright © 2024 scite LLC. All rights reserved.
Made with 💙 for researchers
Part of the Research Solutions Family.