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Justice Everywhere a blog about philosophy in public affairs

Economics / General / Liberty / Rights

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ARE NUDGES FAILING VULNERABLE POPULATIONS?

In this post, Viviana Ponce de León Solís discusses her article recently published in the Journal of Applied Philosophy on  how nudging interventions can have uneven effects on low-income individuals, potentially worsening inequalities.

Image by Reinhard Dietrich from Wikimedia Commons

Nudges can be powerful tools for influencing behavior, but their impact on vulnerable populations—especially low-socioeconomic status groups (SES)—remains a topic of debate. Research reveals three possible outcomes: these groups may respond more strongly, less strongly, or similarly to nudges compared to the general population. While the type of nudge—cognitive, affective, or behavioral—matters, the real key to success lies in the intervention’s design and its ability to address the unique barriers faced by the target audience. Without careful consideration, “one-size-fits-all” nudges risk deepening inequalities or stigmatizing vulnerable communities.

The rise of nudging: a subtle tool for big change

Nudging, a concept popularized by Richard Thaler and Cass Sunstein, has become a go-to strategy for influencing behavior without restricting choice or altering incentives. By subtly reshaping the “choice architecture”—the context in which decisions are made—nudges aim to promote better outcomes in areas like health, finance, and sustainability. Major institutions like the World Bank, the OECD, and the United Nations have integrated nudging into their policies, recognizing its potential to drive social progress. But as its use expands, a critical question emerges: Are nudges truly equitable, or do they inadvertently favor certain groups over others?

Why one size doesn’t fit all

At its heart, nudging leverages insights from dual process theory and bounded rationality, acknowledging that people often rely on instinctive, automatic thinking rather than careful deliberation. However, this approach assumes a uniform response to nudges, overlooking the diverse ways different groups—especially those from low-SES backgrounds—interact with these interventions. For these individuals, factors like financial stress, cognitive load, and limited resources can significantly shape their responses.

The good, the bad, and the unexpected

Some studies reveal that emotionally driven nudges, such as those appealing to feelings of security or community, or behavior-based nudges like default options (e.g., automatic enrollment in energy-saving programs), often resonate strongly with low-SES groups. These interventions simplify decision-making, easing the mental burden for those facing daily financial pressures. In contrast, cognitively oriented nudges, which rely on information dissemination, tend to fall short. For example, a health app encouraging physical activity might fail to reach individuals with limited access to technology or lower digital literacy. Interestingly, some nudges show no significant difference in effectiveness across SES groups, suggesting that equitable outcomes are possible with the right approach.

Ethical dilemma: are nudges fair?

These varied responses raise important ethical questions. If some nudges disproportionately benefit the privileged, they risk widening existing inequalities. For low-SES individuals, barriers like limited resources or systemic inequities can make it harder to adopt these interventions. Moreover, nudges that focus on behavior change without addressing underlying systemic issues may inadvertently stigmatize vulnerable populations, portraying them as deficient or in need of correction. Even the low cost of nudges can backfire, as financial burdens may fall heaviest on those least able to afford them.

Designing nudges that work for everyone

To overcome these challenges, nudges must be carefully tailored to the realities of low-SES populations. Policymakers need to consider cognitive, material, and social barriers, ensuring interventions are accessible and effective for all. Expanding research to include diverse groups in real-world settings is essential, as it provides deeper insights into how nudges function across different contexts. By grounding nudges in evidence and designing them with inclusivity in mind, we can create interventions that truly empower the people they aim to help.

The future of nudging: inclusive and equitable design

The promise of nudging lies not in universal application but in thoughtful, context-aware design. By recognizing the diverse needs of different social groups and addressing the specific barriers faced by disadvantaged communities, we can craft nudges that are both effective and equitable. Longitudinal studies tracking the long-term impact of nudges, combined with qualitative research exploring the lived experiences of those affected, will be invaluable in refining these interventions.

Conclusion: nudging toward a fairer future

In conclusion, as nudging becomes a cornerstone of policy design, its success will depend on our ability to appreciate and address the diverse needs of all societal groups. By designing nudges with inclusivity and contextual awareness at their core, we can unlock their full potential as a force for positive, equitable change. With a commitment to fairness and evidence-based approaches, nudging can help build a future that is not only more effective but also more just for everyone.

Economics / General / Moral values / Work

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What’s so bad about workism?

In this post, Matthew Hammerton (Singapore Management University) discusses his article recently published in the Journal of Applied Philosophy on the phenomenon and value of people making work the primary source of meaning in their life.

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Some people center their life on work. They identify with their job and derive most of their life’s meaning from it. The writer Derek Thompson coined the term ‘workism’ to describe this phenomenon. Other people center their life on family (think of a stay-at-home parent who finds raising children deeply meaningful), a hobby, or something else entirely. Finally, some people don’t center their life on any single thing. Instead, they try to live a well-rounded life, drawing meaning and identity from a plurality of sources.

Are each of these lifestyles reasonable ways to live a life, or are some of them mistakes that lead to less fulfilling lives? In recent years, workism has come under fire and been dismissed as an especially poor life choice. In my article ‘What is wrong with workism?’ I challenge that view and defend workism as a viable way to live a good life. In case you are wondering, I am not a workist myself—I find meaning from a plurality of sources. Still, from a philosophical perspective, I don’t see what’s wrong with some people choosing to center their lives on work.  

Why balance isn’t everything

Many critics of workism reject it on the grounds that living a ‘balanced’ life is inherently better. However, this argument moves too quickly. If hedonism is true, then living an ‘unbalanced’ life is fine—as long as it brings you more pleasure. If preferentialism is true, then living an ‘unbalanced’ life is fine if it better satisfies your preferences.

To really press the objection, we have to appeal to Aristotelian perfectionism—the idea that the good life for humans consists of developing various goods that are fundamental to our nature. Furthermore, we have to appeal to the popular perfectionist idea that it is important to have a balanced mix of these goods. According to this view, we should avoid living a lopsided life that overemphasizes one good while neglecting others. Such a life, even if rich in total good, remains fundamentally incomplete.

There are several issues with this kind of argument against workism, but let me focus on one. Suppose the perfectionist is right: a well-rounded life is better for us. Still, it doesn’t follow that it’s a mistake to live an unbalanced life. That’s because life isn’t just about maximizing well-being. In addition to living well for ourselves, we also want our lives to be meaningful—significant, purposeful, and impactful.

But here’s the thing: as I’ve argued elsewhere, balance doesn’t matter when it comes to meaning. Just look at some of the most meaningful human lives—Albert Einstein, Frida Kahlo, Mother Tersea, Nelson Mandela. These weren’t well-rounded lives. They were lopsided. They prioritized a single cause or form of excellence in order to achieve great things. We might call these figures ‘workists with a noble cause’. This suggests that meaning in life is simply about having the biggest positive impact you can on the world, which doesn’t require living a well-rounded life.

The upshot is that workism can be a reasonable choice for those seeking meaning. If perfectionism is right, then workists may lose some well-being by opting for an ‘unbalanced’ life. However, this loss can be offset by the meaning their lives gain.  

Too many eggs in one basket

Another common objection to workism is that it’s risky. If your life is centered on work then a major setback—a layoff, burnout, failure—can leave you emotionally disoriented and lacking purpose. A well-rounded life, in contrast, offers more fallback options.

This is a fair point. But it’s often overstated. The critique assumes a comparison between the well-rounded life and a cartoonish version of workism, where work is the only thing that matters. And sure, in that extreme, workism looks dangerous. But in real life, that version is rare. Humans are social creatures. Most people—even those who center their lives on work—still value relationships, hobbies, and causes beyond the office.

So the more realistic comparison is between the well-rounded life and moderate workism—where work is the main source of meaning, but not the only one. In this more grounded scenario, the difference in emotional resilience isn’t that stark. Yes, well-rounded folks may have stronger relationships and more hobbies to fall back on. But moderate workists usually have those too—just not to the same degree. And that difference isn’t necessarily decisive.

If choosing a life of moderate workism allows you to make a greater positive impact on the world, then that gain in meaning might be worth the small extra risk you take on.

There’s no one-size-fits-all good life

Elsewhere, I’ve considered other objections to workism. What is interesting about the two we’ve discussed is that they don’t just apply to work—they apply to any life centered on one thing: family, art, activism, sport, you name it. They all push us toward the ideal of a well-rounded life.

I agree that there is much to recommend in such a life. However, we shouldn’t assume that this makes it ideal for everyone. People are different. Some people have dispositions, talents, preferences, or life circumstances that make them suited to a narrowly focused life. Others thrive on variety. The key is recognizing that there are many ways to live well. Rather than pushing a single ideal, we should embrace pluralism about the good life.

Academia / Beyond the Ivory Tower / General / Public Philosophy

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Beyond the Ivory Tower Interview with Toby Buckle

This is the latest interview in our Beyond the Ivory Tower series, a conversation between Sara van Goozen and Toby Buckle. Toby Buckle runs the popular Political Philosophy Podcast. He has a BA in PPE from Oxford University and an MA in Political Philosophy from the University of York. He spent many years working with political and advocacy groups in the United States, such as Human Rights Campaign, Environment America,  Working Families Party and Amnesty International. He started his podcast around seven years ago, and has interviewed academics including Elizabeth Anderson, Orlando Patterson, Phillip Pettit, and Cecile Fabre, as well as politicians (such as Senator Sherrod Brown, or Civil Rights Commission Chair, Mary Francis Berry), commentators (such as Ian Dunt) and public figures (such as Derek Guy AKA Menswear Guy). He is the editor of What is Freedom? Conversations with Historians, Philosophers, and Activists (Oxford University Press, 2021). He writes regularly for Liberal Currents. In this interview, we discuss running a podcast, the enduring relevance of historical philosophers, and what young academics can do to build a public profile.

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General

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School attendance

According to the UK government, any child who misses more than 10% of school is “persistently absent” from school. Alarming news headlines inform us that this “persistent absence” is now at record rates of 20%. As a parent and a social philosopher interested in the topics of illness and disability, I find the guidance more worrying than these numbers.

Schools in the UK usually provide 190 days of instruction a year. Missing 10% or 19 days means missing just under 4 weeks of school. We have to remember, however, that these 190 days are not distributed randomly over the year. During the summer, when the number of contagious illnesses is lowest, there is a long break from school. The guidance does not differentiate according to age either. Schooling is compulsory between the ages of 5 and 18, which means children usually start school at age 4. While a 14 year old might be able to go to school with even a relatively bad cold, a 4 year old (or 7 year old) will not be able to do so. Small children delight in close proximity to each other – hence they are likely to pick up both head lice and viral illnesses more quickly from each other too than adults would. They are also likely to do things which result in injuries like broken bones. As a result they are likely to be ill more often. Family size also matters. According to a study conducted in 2009, families with one child had a respiratory viral infection in the household about a third of the time, but this rocketed to more than half the time for families with two or more children. By contrast, families with only adults had viral infections in the household only 7% of the time. Children are simply ill a lot. It is easy for them to miss two weeks of school between September and February, when schools start internal procedures to tackle “pesistent absence” half-way through the school year.

There are practical reasons why we might not want to set the bar for problematic absence so low. It might deflect attention from the 2% of children who are severely absent from school, and miss more than half of all school sessions. It creates unnecessary administration and conflict between schools and parents. It shows a lack of trust in parents to know when their children are too ill to go to school, and in teachers to recognise when absence is truly problematic. It might mean even greater workloads for family doctors if children with minor illnesses need to have their absence from school certified.

Beyond this, there are also questions about how the state teaches us about our relationship to our bodies, and particularly about our relationship to ill, sick bodies. First of all, should even 14 year olds go to school with a bad cold? Should an adult go to work? When I asked my 7 year old, she informed me this was a very bad idea, because other children and even the teachers will then become unwell. We are used to pushing through common illnesses instead of resting. It has only been 5 years since we were in the middle of the first wave of Covid lockdowns, but we have already returned to this mindset. Incidentally, we also fail to provide parents with the resources to look after sick children, especially in the absence of the extended social networks of the past.

In neoliberal societies, illness is often equated with inability to work and health is equated with ability to work. Foucault argued that schools teach about the disciplinary regime of society as much as they teach about other aspects of knowledge. In the case of setting persistent absence at a 90% attendance rate, they teach that citizens, or rather workers, have a duty to be healthy enough to work most of the time. This is problematic when we consider that many people will experience chronic illness and disability throughout their lifetime.

When it comes to guidance on when a child is too ill to go to school, the focus is firmly on measurable, observable symptoms, rather than individual illness experiences. For example, the Department of Education writes: “It’s usually safe for you to send your child to school with mild illnesses, like a minor cough, runny nose or sore throat. However, children should stay at home if they have a high temperature of 38C or above.” I think we have all had mild illnesses, like colds, which felt very unpleasant even in the absence of a fever. Talking to children about how they are feeling and their experience of illness is not mentioned anywhere. This mirrors the problems that people have in receiving diagnoses when clinicians have to rely on the testimony of patients, including many autoimmune diseases. This could also be an example of epistemic injustice towards children, as we do not take them seriously as people who know about their own body, unless we can observe symptoms ourselves, such as fever, vomiting or diarrhoea.

Relying on objective measurements, like body temperature, means that we don’t learn to recognise the signs of illness in our own bodies. It is an impoverished way of relating to ourselves. We need to be able to understand when we are hungry, thirsty, need the toilet or are in need of rest. The way our society is organised often denies us to follow these basic bodily demand, or meets them inadequately through junk food, caffeine or paracetamol tablets. It is a cause for concern that we start teaching this already to 4 year olds.

Climate / Distribution / Economics / Environment / General / Governance

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Quo vadis carbon tax?

Carbon taxes represent a key part of humanity’s current strategy to avoid global warming above 2 degrees Celsius. They work by making carbon-intensive activities more expensive, thus encouraging individuals to reduce these activities. Given the existential threat climate change poses to our societies, one would hope that such a key policy tool was both effective and enjoyed broad public support. Neither of these things are true today. Why is that and what needs to change?

The carbon tax is a so-called steering tax. Its goal is to change people’s behaviour, not to raise revenue for the government. The current version of the carbon tax in place in most countries does not change people’s behaviour as effectively as it could and should. To see why, consider two frequently ignored facts.

First, rich people emit considerably more than the average person. Studies on socioenvironmental inequality estimate that the top 10% of emitters are responsible for about 50% of individual carbon emissions. Think of private jets, which emit up to 4.5 tons of CO2 equivalent (tCO2e) per hour, that is three times as much as the average human on the planet can emit per year if we want to meet our climate targets. Second, someone who falls in this category will usually not even bat an eye at a carbon price of, say, 100 Euros per tCO2e, let alone change their consumption habits. For context, the price of carbon in the European Union Emissions Trading System has oscillated around 80 Euros per tCO2e over the last three years.

Progressive carbon taxes are more effective

In light of these facts, a carbon tax that ignores socioenvironmental inequality and charges everyone the same will leave the low-hanging fruit in terms of carbon emission reduction on the tree. Those who emit the most, often by spending on luxury items, will contribute hardly anything to emission reduction.

A progressive carbon tax would change that. The basic idea is to have different carbon tax brackets based on individual emissions: everyone would pay a low carbon price for reasonable carbon use; for instance, on your first 1.5 tCO2e of emissions, you would pay 50 Euros per tCO2e. Beyond that, the tax rate goes up. For people whose emissions are above a certain threshold, e.g. more than 35 tCO2e or more than three times the emissions of the average European citizen, the price per ton in the top bracket might reach prohibitive levels in the tens or hundreds of thousands of Euros per ton. The precise thresholds and tax rates are up for discussion, but the general idea is clear enough.

Some countries successfully use this approach in other policy areas. For example, in Finland and Switzerland, traffic fines are based on income. To make rich people reduce their speed, speeding tickets can rise to six- or seven-figure sums. To make them reduce their carbon footprint, a similar logic applies.

You might think a progressive carbon tax is difficult to implement. After all, do we know how much a person emits? Fortunately, fairly reliable proxies for the two main categories of greenhouse gas emissions, transport and housing, are already available. Data exists on who owns or uses what aircraft, cars or boats, and we also have good proxies for the carbon-intensity of building and heating homes.

Current, flat carbon tax: by elites, for elites

Many countries are currently experiencing political pushback against standard, flat carbon taxes. For example, Canada has just abolished consumer carbon taxes at the federal level and in most provinces. At first sight, the political frustration might seem surprising, given that many low-income Canadians in fact came out ahead under the former policy thanks to a generous rebate structure. In British Columbia, for instance, individuals with an annual income below $41,071 automatically received a rebate of $504 per year.

So why the popular discontent with the tax? Misinformation about rebates as well as a poorly justified general sentiment against any form of taxation certainly play a role. However, here is another explanation whose importance is underestimated. When communities have a common goal, it matters for members of the community to feel that everyone is pulling their weight to achieve that goal. Today’s carbon tax fails this test. The burden of adjustment in terms of reducing emissions falls squarely on low-income individuals, whereas the wealthy just shrug it off and pay the tax. Moreover, the fact that some portion of today’s income and wealth inequalities are perceived as unjust to begin with adds insult to injury.

Against this background, resentment against the current, flat carbon taxes in most countries is not only surprising, it is also legitimate. Even when taking rebates into account, the policy is rightly perceived as a policy by elites, for elites. A progressive carbon tax remedies this shortcoming.

This article is a modified version of a post in the Conversation Canada and informed by a paper published in Nature Sustainability in 2024.

Academia / General / Pedagogy / Teaching / Teaching Philosophy

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Call for Papers: “Ethical and Epistemological Issues in the Teaching of Politics”

Justice Everywhere is pleased to share the following call for papers:


The Centre for the Pedagogy of Politics (CPP) at UCL and the Teaching Political Theory Network (TPTN) at the University of York are co-organising a one-day workshop focussed on ethical and epistemological issues in the teaching of politics.

Time: Friday, 6 June 2025

Location: University College, London

The teaching of politics is taken to include the teaching of all relevant sub-disciplines (e.g., political science, international relations, political theory) as well as activities that inform and support it (e.g., related pastoral and administrative activities).

The aim of the workshop is to provide a platform for educators and researchers to critically explore contemporary philosophical issues, scholarly debates, and innovative pedagogical approaches related to the central theme.

We welcome presentations, case studies, papers, and panel proposals that might address, but are not restricted to, the ethical and/or epistemological dimensions of:

  • the teaching of argumentation in politics;
  • background methodological choices/assumptions;
  • neutrality of teacher viewpoint;
  • freedom of speech in the classroom;
  • teaching controversial/offensive/upsetting topics;
  • inclusive classroom practices;
  • decolonising/liberating the curriculum;
  • differential treatment of students;
  • modes of assessment;
  • reducing the emphasis on grades;
  • use of A.I.;
  • programme design;
  • co-designing teaching materials with students;
  • aiming to enhance student employability;
  • the teaching of interdisciplinary subjects.

Please send your expression of interest and a short abstract of no more than 100 words to polsci.cpp@ucl.ac.uk by the end of Wednesday 9th April 2025.

We look forward to hearing from you soon!

Academia / General / Migration / Rights / Social justice

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Limits of language promotion

This post is written by Dr. Seunghyun Song (Assistant professor, Tilburg University). Based on her research on linguistic justice, she provides a tentative answer to the issue of the limits of the linguistic territoriality principle and its aim to protect languages. She uses the Dutch case as a proxy for these discussions.

Image by woodleywonderworks from Flickr (Creative Commons)

Read more: Limits of language promotion

Territoriality: what is it and why is it nice?

In philosophical terms, promotion and protection of languages found within its territory is called language policies that operate on the so-called territoriality principle (e.g. Van Parijs). Such language policies are found commonly around the world, such as Belgium, Canada, Spain, etc. I am for this territoriality principle. Let me just start with that. It is not only because of speakers of certain languages, where I wish their language-related interests to be met, but also because of the worth of seeing a unique language thrive.

Linguistically ‘wealthy’ want to get richer?

But where does the limit of territorial language policies lie? I think the limit lies depending on the current distribution of resources, for instance. In my view, a problem begins when already thriving linguistic groups impose policies to further their chances.

To illustrate what I mean, consider the academic linguistic scene in the Netherlands as an actual example (note, that similar circumstances may be happening in many other contexts as well).

In the past decade, English has been long embraced as the medium of instruction in Dutch higher education. This is partly due to the Dutch higher education heralding internationalization as one of its main virtues. And this rising dominance of English in Dutch higher education has been especially palpable after Brexit, where many international programs taught in English were offered widely to lure European international students (e.g., Erasmus students)

Recently, said presence of English as one of the (if not the) main tool of communication has triggered political scrutiny and concern. For instance, the Minister of Education, Culture and Science in the current Dutch government Eppo Bruins worried, “over the past several years international student numbers have grown sharply [in the Netherlands], resulting in … diminishing use of Dutch as the language of instruction.”

Significant attempts have been made to reverse this linguistic trend in the Netherlands, where the use of English increases while the use of Dutch diminishes. To restore Dutch as the main language of instruction, an educational bill named “Wet Internationalisering in Balans” (translated in English as “Internationalization in Balance”) was submitted to the House of Representatives in May 2024, which requires two-thirds of bachelor’s degrees to be taught in Dutch. As education minister Robbert Dijkgraaf describes, the bill allows “room in the curriculum for another language, but … it should not be more than a third. That means that most of your education is in Dutch.” This bill was explicitly stated as the means to restore Dutch as the norm in Dutch higher education and to safeguard Dutch citizens’ access to higher education.

The effects of this bill were palpable, especially at the level of informal practices. In some universities, while the majority of hires before the introduction of the bill included many international candidates with no Dutch proficiency, after the introduction of the bill, many of the hires (whether for fixed-term lecturer positions or assistant professorships) prioritized those who spoke Dutch as their primary or native language. One may argue that the bill has impacted the hiring process in Dutch University to become more local, if not nationalist.

Why is this a problem?

The problem consists of linguistic minorities being pushed away even further with such bills. Often, there are the costs of promoting and protecting a language, especially when a linguistically well-off groups impose further regulations to those who are not really thriving. This linguistic turn in Dutch academia may marginalize linguistic minorities in academia, enabling objectionable hierarchal relations among academics by dividing them into different linguistic groups: Dutch speakers and non-Dutch speakers.

So, although I am in agreement with territorial language policies, I do think it should come with a limit. When the groups who are already linguistically ‘wealthy’ wants to get richer, perhaps the implementation of strong territorial language policies may come with unwanted problems, such as the hierarchy of linguistic groups within said territory.

On the other hand, if territorial language policies are used for linguistic minorities who don’t have the such resources, who face the threat of language endangerment or more, then the worry may not arise (see Song 2023).  Thus, the limit of territorial language policies lies depending on the current distribution of resources. In my view, a problem begins when already thriving linguistic groups impose policies to further their chances and this should not always be encouraged.

I think there is a worth in looking at current distribution of resources, whether one is privileged or not, before advancing territoriality principle. This way, we check whether the current status is unfair, linguistically speaking, and aim at how the world may be changed for the better.

Dr. Seunghyun Song is an Assistant Professor at Tilburg University (The Netherlands). Before coming to Tilburg, she was at KU Leuven (Flanders, Belgium), where she held FWO junior postdoc mandate. She also completed her PhD at KU Leuven prior to her postdoc there. Her main area of expertise is in linguistic justice and intergenerational justice. She is particularly interested in issues of reparative justice, historical injustice, and structural injustice approach. She is also invested in the field of social epistemology, especially on epistemic injustice and reparation, and lived experiences of marginalisation. 

Children / Climate / Democracy / Environment / General / Social justice

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Innocence and Agency: The ethics of child protests

In this post, Tim Fowler (University of Bristol) discusses his recently published article in the Journal of Applied Philosophy in which he explores whether children can be deemed as competent to engage in political activism.

The Fridays for Future or ‘Climate Strikes’ have been a striking feature of political action on climate change. Most associated with Greta Thunberg, these actions reveal the power of children to intervene effectively in political spaces. In doing so, they raise ethical, political, and sociological questions. In my paper I focus on two: first, whether recognizing children’s right to protest should affect the age thresholds for other activities, especially voting; and second, the impact on the child protesters themselves.

I’ve long been interested in questions about children and childhood, partly because children don’t always ‘fit’ within liberal frameworks. Liberalism, as the ideology of the Enlightenment and modern world, emphasizes autonomous, independent agents. Our democratic practices presume people who can make and bear the consequences of their choices. Children are excluded from voting, driving, drinking, etc., on the grounds that they lack such capacities. Yet Greta Thunberg and others challenge this through the commitment, agency, and skill the strikes demand. It’s inappropriate to dismiss their actions as merely ‘childish’ or of no value.

For those committed to consistency in how we distinguish adults from children, two options seem to follow: either deny the competence of child protesters and ignore them, or recognize their competence and lower the voting age. But if we accept the latter, consistency might also suggest lowering the drinking or sexual consent age. Instead, I propose a more piecemeal approach, recognizing different kinds of competence. Voting should involve weighing complex national issues — something children, on the whole, may lack capacity for — even if they can express thoughtful views on specific topics.

The second question is whether striking is good for children. While this depends on individual cases, we can ask more broadly whether political engagement benefits children. I argue that there is a cost, as it takes away a period of life when one might be innocent of the world’s burdens — a quality long seen, though sometimes controversially, as central to childhood. The philosophical concept of the intrinsic goods of childhood — those things good in themselves about being a child — is useful here. Thinkers like Samantha Brennan, Anca Gheaus, and Colin McLeod have emphasized childhood’s value in its own right, with McLeod highlighting innocence as part of what makes childhood special.

From this perspective, the rise of eco-anxiety — children’s deep worry about climate change, and now, wars like Ukraine and Gaza — is profoundly regrettable. Political anxiety is troubling for anyone, but especially for children, as it undermines goods of childhood that cannot be reclaimed. Yet while innocence is important, insisting on it too strongly ignores that many children are already exposed to politics. Given this, preventing them from acting on their concerns is unfair, and activism may be a psychologically healthy response to their anxieties. As I argue in the paper, the worst situation is one where children are exposed to politics but forbidden to act.

This leads to an ambivalent conclusion. On one hand, I argue that society can grant children the right to protest without granting them the right to vote; the issue of consistency is overstated. Different institutions and practices have good reasons for drawing the child/adult line differently. For many children, protesting is a positive act — both as a means of pursuing political change and as a way to feel agency. Yet we should also regret that children feel the need to protest at all, since it signals that we, as adults, have let them down and that they have lost something of real significance.

Economics / General / Governance / Health / Liberty

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What I Really, Really Want: Why True Preferences Matter for Nudging

In this post, Bart Engelen (Tilburg University) and Viktor Ivanković (Institute of Philosophy, Zagreb) discuss their recently published article in the Journal of Applied Philosophy, where they explore what it means to have ‘true preferences’ and how this affects our understanding of autonomy and nudging.

Failing to do what we really, really want seems all-too familiar in everyday life. You might want to lead a healthier lifestyle or aspire to a career in a girl band but turn out to be too sluggish to go for a run or practice your singing and dancing skills. If you really are committed to those aims, these are clear instances where you fail to satisfy your ‘true preferences’.

Laziness and akrasia

So, what is it that you really, really want? And why does it matter whether or not others can know your deepest desires? In our new article in the Journal of Applied Philosophy, we argue why some of your preferences are truer than others and why policy-makers can and should steer you in the direction of these preferences by nudging you when you veer off course.

Image from DHE-Art

True preferences, we contend, are real and should be taken seriously, by ourselves, by philosophers and by policy-makers. They are more fundamental and stable than our more superficial, impulsive and flimsy preferences. They also have special status and carry special normative weight. We care about them; it really matters to us whether or not we succeed in realizing what we set out to do, whether this is akin to a New Year’s resolution or something more vital to our central life plans.

All of this might sound rather obvious. Who would deny this? Oddly enough, more than a few (behavioral) economists do. In our article, we discuss and respond to three types of objections that they raise against true preferences. First, true preferences have been claimed not to exist. Even when preferences are incoherent, the objection goes, there is no indication as to why some preferences might be meaningfully “truer” than others.

And even if there are true preferences, a second objection states, they remain unknowable to others, and particularly to meddlesome governments. Of the many, changing and often incoherent preferences, how can one possibly single out those that are somehow true or special? How can an outsider know whether you suffer from procrastination or simply prefer not to chase after a life of fame?

Third, true preferences might simply lack normative weight and the fact that someone is veering of course might not justify governmental interference. Governments then, have no business promoting true preferences. Surely, policy-makers shouldn’t make it their business to help you become the next Mel B or Posh Spice, even if that is your deepest desire.

Image from Rawpixel.com

True preferences

In the article, we attend to these objections. True preferences, we show, are quite essential to how we understand core concepts of moral philosophy, like autonomy and authenticity. We point to several plausible ways of understanding true preferences developed by philosophers such as Harry Frankfurt (higher-order preferences), Bernard Williams (authentic preferences), Tyler DesRoches (values-based preferences) and Mark Fabian and Malte Dold (agentic preferences). All of these understandings establish a connection between true preferences and the core concepts of moral philosophy.

All of these philosophers claim that some of our preferences are (more) special (than other preferences), as they express (more) closely who we are. They make up the kind of person we consider ourselves to be or that we aspire to become. Those who deny that true preferences exist or have special normative weight, we argue, undermine our ability to make sense of autonomy and authenticity. When people fail to act on their commitments, they are not leading the life they want to live. We need a notion of ‘true preferences’ to capture the fundamental thought that some of our preferences are more ‘ours’ and that others are more ‘alien’ to us.

Policy implications

So what does this mean for policy-makers? Knowing what you really, really want might be nice for yourself, your partner and your friends but should politicians and policy-makers be in the business of figuring out your deepest desires? In the article, we defend the case for ‘paternalistic nudges’ that promote true preferences. Policy-makers, in our view, can and should nudge citizens when they predictably veer off course and fail to satisfy their own true preferences.

So far, nudge advocates have mostly assumed what people’s true preferences might be. This has been heavily criticized as an objectionable kind of paternalism because it supposedly ends up with policy-makers imposing their values on citizens. Instead of really catering to people’s true preferences, policy-makers will nudge citizens in directions that the policy-makers regard as beneficial, be it health, wealth, or some other aspect of wellbeing. Say, people can be nudged into doing more regular check-ups, eat healthier food, or drive safely, all things that they surely prefer…or do they? How can policy-makers hope to find this out? Economists are all too keen to point out knowledge problems in government operations.

And while they make some important points, the knowledge problem for true preferences represents a challenge to be overcome, not a cause for defeatism. We are not helpless in its wake. It is perfectly possible to identify scenarios in which people predictably form false beliefs, exercise poor evaluative judgments or suffer from incompetence. We can use generalizations and statistical evidence for what contributes to a healthy and financially stable life and we can use surveys and other scientific methodologies to gauge people’s desires.

Importantly, we can do all of this while making absolutely sure that dissenters can go their separate ways. This is the advantage of nudges. They can help people get things right (when they steer them in the direction of a true preference), while preserving their freedom to resist (if they steer in the wrong direction). So, even if it turns out that you really prefer to watch rather than be a Spice Girl, you won’t be forced in either direction.

Democracy / General / Governance / Social justice

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‘Flooding the zone’ and the politics of attention

Steve Bannon and Charlie Kirk speaking with attendees at the 2022 AmericaFest at the Phoenix Convention Center in Phoenix, Arizona. Photography by Gage Skidmore.

This is a guest post by Zsolt Kapelner (University of Oslo).

‘Flooding the zone’ is a term often used to describe the strategy Trump and his team have followed in recent weeks. This strategy involves issuing a torrent of executive orders, controversial statements, and the like with the aim of overwhelming the opposition and the media and creating confusion. Many have criticized this strategy and, in my view, rightly so. But what precisely is wrong with it? In this short piece I want to argue that ‘flooding the zone’ is not simply one of the, perhaps dirtier, tricks in the toolbox of democratic competition; instead, it is an inherently antidemocratic strategy which deliberately aims at exploiting one of our crucial vulnerabilities as a democratic public, i.e., our limited attentional capacity.

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