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Inside the Beltway Intrigue

Helps to clarify the still murky meaning of "justice."First, a comparison of procedural and retributive justice demonstrates the relative importance of procedures. Clearly, when procedures operate impartially, respect human dignity, and allow democratic "voice" to speak, governing authorities and institutions are much more likely to be perceived as legitimate and worthy of support. By contrast as proclaimed in our Declaration of Independence, when procedural unfairness occurs, risks of social disintegration, riots, and even rebellion increase. In sum, despite America's love affair with "the sword" (retributive justice), fair procedures typically are more effective in controlling individuals and potentially volatile sub-groups.
The book's most serious limitation is the failure to adequately "frame" (cf. p. 165) or make salient the complex interdependence among the three types of justice. The comparative assessment is between procedural and retributive justice: There is no comparative assessment involving distributive justice despite its critical importance. For example, if the "playing field" where Justice stands is not level due to prior distributive injustice, her scales (procedural justice) will be tilted and--to an unknown degree--undermine any measurements of "just deserts." A badly slanted playing field can produce totally invalid judgments that "legitimate" practices like "public shaming," incarceration, and even capital punishment. See Miller and Radelet's (1993), Executing the Mentally Ill, and Radelet, Bedau, and Putnam's (1992), In Spite of Innocence.
A promising conceptual framework is unfolding in the work of Robert Regoli and John Hewitt (see Delinquency in Society: A Child-Centered Approach). They begin with the most critical failure of distributive and procedural justice, i.e., the lack of humane care and legal protection for America's abused and neglected children. They show that child abuse and neglect contribute to later delinquency and criminality that can easily lead to unjust retribution. Child development and neurological data support this view (see Daniel Goleman's, Emotional Intelligence.) Other data show that the crime-related effects of abuse and neglect are cumulative, i.e., the more abuse, the greater the likelihood that deliquent and criminal behavior will follow. This includes violent behavior as early as age 9 linked scientifically not to "free will" but to prior abuse and neglect.
The concept of false positives can help clarify the murky nature of "justice." In this context false positives are persons who are harassed procedurally (like Robert Jewell) or who receive formal retribution despite being either "factually innocent" (did nothing wrong) or "legally innocent" (lacking mens rea, e.g., lacking moral competence as described in Goleman's Emotional Intelligence). See Huff, Rattner, and Sagarin's (1996), Convicted But Innocent: Wrongful Conviction and Public Policy.
In a second impressive element, Tyler et al. bring perceived "social identities" to the center of the dynamics of justice. They show that where negative social identities combine with negative emotions toward "outsiders" or "aliens," the potential for behaviors characteristic of "hate crimes" or the Holocaust increases. By contrast, in situations where "superordinate identities" (e.g., American citizens, p. 254) and prosocial sympathy are dominant, considerably more support exists for policies and practices that protect basic rights and respond to human needs.
However, a serious limitation related to social identities involves criminal justice policies. Rehabilitation is far more successful and has greater public support than Tyler et al. indicate (pp. 204-205). See Choosing Correctional Options That Work, by Alan Harland (1996). Also see Todd Clear's (1994) Harm in American Penology; Michael Tonry's (1995) Malign Neglect: Race, Crime, and Punishment in America; and S. Donziger's (1996) The Real War on Crime.
A third impressive feature of Tyler et al.'s book also has a serious weakness involving the same set of social identities. The centerpiece of this feature is the discussion of Opotow's (1990) concept of "moral exclusion" that begins on page 211. As the term implies, people tend to exclude others from the perceived boundaries of their moral communities and duty. Anyone excluded is viewed as non-human and "expendable," and any harm inflicted upon them is perceived as "appropriate" and "just" (cf. Martin Buber's 1958, I and Thou). Although the book discusses the unfair internment of Japanese Americans during WWII, there is no explicit discussion of whether moral exclusion applies to any criminals or prisoners in today's America. It does: See Mark Hamm's (1995), The Abandoned Ones: The Imprisonment and Uprising of the Mariel Boat People; and, All Too Familiar: Sexual Abuse of Women in U.S. State Prisons, by Human Rights Watch, Women's Rights Project (1996). Those who are horribly mistreated in these accounts are not Japanese American, but illegal Cuban immigrants and Rainbow Colored American women (in increasing numbers).
Dietrich Bonhoeffer's approach (in his book, Ethics, p. 266) can supplement Tyler et al.'s discussion of moral exclusion. Bonhoeffer argued that morality becomes relevant in two situations: when relationships are "disrupted or the organization is endangered." If applied to distributive, procedural, and retributive justice, this principle indicates that morality is relevant when the government (or the government's "men" or women) changes its relationship to a person or group (e.g., by investigation or arrest) or when a threat is perceived (e.g., during the internment of Japanese Americans). In the interests of quality (as opposed to crude) justice, morality should become even more imperative when a relationship changes drastically (e.g., by indictment for a capital crime) or when a perceived threat increases (e.g., in our uncivil war on drugs and crime).
Elsewhere in their book Tyler et al. also accurately discuss John Rawls's often misinterpreted "veil of ignorance." One can apply that concept to our whole criminal justice system. That is, conceptually redesign this beast as if we were ignorant (not stupid) of who might be perceived as a dangerous threat and snared by its brutal teeth. Although this approach contrasts sharply with the views of Justice Antonin Scalia (see A Matter of Interpretation), it is quite compatible with the interpretative principles of the late Justice Willian Brennan, who understood the profound importance and value of human dignity. In particular, the veil of ignorance--like Justice Brennan--can help us interpret such critical texts as the introductory or Identity Clause of the 14th Amendment. This clause promises that "all persons born or naturalized in the" U.S. have federal and state identities as "citizens" and are thereby entitled to the due process of law and its equal protection. As a democratically impartial mode of interpretation, the veil of ignorance can give us awesome glimpses of the true face of Moral Justice in our increasingly diverse and threatening society.


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A brilliant read for users and non-users alike

Stecyk does it again

The Greatness of GenjiI have read the entirety of all three of the complete English translations. To my mind, Royall Tyler's is clearly the best of the lot. Even though I can't compare it to the original, given what I know about Heian culture and the other reading I've done, this version somehow seems to capture the spirit of the age beyond what the others achieved. I vastly prefer the way Tyler has approached the matter of identifying the characters, for example. He uses their courtly titles, even though those change during the course of the story. He manages to keep the reader oriented by the straightforward listing of characters that appears at the beginning of each chapter.
Combined with Tyler's other strategies, I feel closer to experiencing the story the way I imagine it was experienced by Murasaki Shikubu's contemporaries. To me this suggests an approach to translation that strives to come to terms with what the text demands; it better conveys the inherent nature and complexity of the prevailing style. Yet Tyler's fluency as a writer nonetheless draws one deep into a character-based story.
I could go on and on, as this novel is one of my great loves. But I'll simply say it's an essential read and that this is the essential translation.


A Great Story for Little Ones

teddyland-spot the differences

:)Laura Sandoval loved young, orphaned Rico as if he were her own son. But she knew the boy needed much more than a mother's loving arms. For the once cheerful child was now refusing to speak, afraid of something-someone-that Laura could not discover.
She knew of only one man to turn to: Nick Garrett. But even as the self-exiled doctor attempted to unlock Rico's hidden fears, danger came calling. And suddenly this makeshift family of three was on the run.
Their only clue existed in the mind of a silent child. Their only chance meant staying together. Their only recourse was to fall in love.
In my Opinion...
Nick who played an important role as Annie's therapist in 'Our Child?' and 'Homecoming' is back in this book. Nick is on an emotional edge in this book. He feels guilty for the death of a teenage boy and has distanced himself from everyone and everything. Nick lives this way for almost a year before he gives in to A.J., an old friend, and agrees to talk to a young boy that is staying at Hope House. Unfortunately, the child is traumatized and refuses to speak. His teacher, Laura, shows up and is determined to take Rico home with her. Laura knows that she needs help if she is going to figure out what Rico is so afraid of. Laura knows of only one person to turn to, Nick. Nick is reluctant to get involved because he has doubts about his own abilities as a psychiatrist. He eventually gives in and agrees to help Rico, which in turn, helps Nick regain his confidence. When the very thing that Rico fears comes after him and puts all three of them in danger, they take off. Along the way the three become a family, but will it last after the danger is gone? This is a story of guilt, friendhip, family, and love. It also has a good dose of danger and mystery, which sets us up for the next book, 'Second Father'. In 'Second Father' we learn more about the 'dirty cops' behind Rico's mothers death.