Legal Theory Lexicon

Legal Theory Lexicon 025: Social Welfare Functions

Introduction

One of the key ideas in contemporary economic theory in general and law and economics in particular is the social welfare function. Law students without a background in economics might be put off by the fact that social welfare functions are expressed in mathematical notation, but there is no reason to be intimidated. The basic ideas are easily grasped and the mathematical notation can be mastered in just a few minutes. This post provided an introduction to the idea of the social welfare function for law students, especially first year law students, with an interest in legal theory. Here we go!

Background

Normative Economics

The idea of a social welfare function is part of normative economics. There are several plausible formulations of normative economics, but almost all of normative economics begins with the fundamental idea of utility as a conception or measure of the good. Economists may disagree about the nature of utility, the relationship of utility to social welfare, and the role of welfare in public policy, but most (if not all) economists would assent to the abstract proposition that ceteris paribus more utility is a good thing. But this apparent agreement is at a very abstract and ambiguous level. There are many different ideas about what "utility" is.

Cardinal and Ordinal Interpretations of Utility

One key divide is between cardinal and ordinal interpretations of utility. An ordinal utility function for an individual consists of a rank ordering of possible states of affairs for that individual. An ordinal function tells us that individual i prefers possible world X to possible world Y, but it doesn't tell us whether X is much better than Y or only a little better.

A cardinal utility function yields a real-number value for each possible state of affairs. If we assume that utility functions yield values expressed in units of utility or utiles, then individual's utility function might score possible world P at 80 utiles and possible world Q at 120 utiles. We might represent the utility function U of individual i for P and Q as follows:

Ui(P) = 80 Ui(Q) = 120

The distinction between cardinal and ordinal utilities is potentially important for utilitarianism, at least on certain interpretations. As a theory of evaluation, utilitarianism is the view that an action is the best action if and only if the action maximizes utility when compared with all possible alternative actions. For technical reasons, utilitarianism requires both cardinality and full interpersonal comparability. This point about utilitarianism is closely related to the history of welfare economics, the explicitly normative branch of economic theory.

Measurement Problems

Both cardinality and interpersonal comparability pose measurement problems for economists. Even in the case of a single individual, it is difficult to reliability measure cardinal utilities. Measurements that support interpersonal comparisons are even more difficult to justify, and cardinal interpersonal comparisons seem to require the analyst (the person making the comparison) to make a variety of controversial value judgments. Market prices won't do as a proxy for utility, for a variety of reasons including wealth effects. The challenge for welfare economics was to develop a methodology that yields robust evaluations but does not require the cardinal interpersonally comparable utilities.

Pareto

This is the point at which Pareto arrives on the scene. Suppose that all the information we have about individual utilities is ordinal and non-interpersonally comparable. In other words, each individual can rank order states of affairs, but we (the analysts) cannot compare the rank orderings across persons. The weak Pareto principle suggests that possible world (state of affairs) P is socially preferable to possible world (state of affairs) Q, if everyone's ordinal ranking of P is higher than their ranking of Q. Weak Pareto doesn't get us very far, because such unanimity of preferences among all persons is rare. The strong Pareto principle suggests that possible world (state of affairs) P is socially preferable to possible world (state of affairs) Q, if at least one person ranks P higher than Q and no one ranks Q higher than P. Unlike weak Pareto, strong Pareto does permit some relatively robust conclusions.

The New Welfare Economics

The so-called new welfare economics was based on the insight that market transactions without uncompensated negative externalities satisfy strong Pareto. If the only difference between state P and state Q is that in P, individuals i1 and i2 engage in an exchange (money for widgets, chickens for shoes) where both prefer the result of the exchange, then the exchange is Pareto efficient. A state of affairs where no further Pareto efficient moves (or trades) are possible is called Pareto optimal. The assumption about externalities is, of course, crucial. If there are negative externalities of any sort, then the trade is not Pareto efficient.

Weak Pareto and the Arrow Impossibility Theorem

Weak Pareto plus ordinal utility information allows some social states (or possible worlds) to be ranked on the basis of everyone's preferences. A method for transforming individual utility information into such a social ranking is called a social welfare function. Kenneth Arrow's famous impossibility theorem demonstrates that it is impossible to construct a social utility function that can transform individual ordinal rankings into a social ranking in cases not covered by weak Pareto, if certain plausible assumptions are made. Arrow's theorem has spurred two lines of development in welfare economics. One line of development relaxes various assumptions that Arrow made; for example, we might relax Arrow's assumption that the social ranking must be transitive (if X is preferred to Y and Y is preferred to Z, then X must be preferred to Z). The other line of development considers the possibility of allowing information other than individual, noncomparable ordinal utilities. It is this second line of development that is relevant to the use of social welfare functions in contemporary law and economics.

Social Welfare Functions

Suppose that we allow full interpersonal comparability and cardinal utility information. This is sufficient to support what are called Bergson-Samuelson utility functions, which have the form:

W(x) = F (U1(x), U2(x), . . . UN(x))

Where

W(x) represents a real number social utility value for some state of affairs (or possible world) X,

F is some increasing function that yields a real number,

U1(x) is a cardinal, interpersonally comparable utility value yielded by some procedure for individual 1 for state of affairs X, and

N is the total number of individuals.

Bergson-Samuelson social welfare functions are named after Paul Samuelson and Avram Bergson.

What Are the Plausible Social Welfare Functions?

There are a variety of different possible functions that can be substituted for F. Here are some of the most important possibilities:

Classical-utilitarian SWF--We could substitute summation for F, and simply add the individual utility values; this is sometimes called a Benthamite or classical-utilitarian social welfare function famously associated with Jeremy Bentham. The classical utility social welfare function can be represented as follows:

W(x)={U1(x) + U2(x) + U(3(x) . . . Un(x)}

Average-utilitarian SWF--The classical SWF adds the utilities. This raises some very interesting issues when the different states of the world (x or y) have different population sizes. When deciding whether to add additional individuals, the classical-utilitarian SWF says more is better until we reach the point where adding more actually reduces the overall level of utility. One way to avoid this implication is use the average level of utility instead of the sum, as in the following formula:

W(s){[U1(x) + U2(x) + U(3(x) . . . Un(x)]/n}

In other words, we divide the sum of utilities by the number of individuals!

Bernoulli-Nash SWF--In the alternative, we could substitute the product function (¡Ç) and multiply individual utilities. This is sometimes called a Bernoulli-Nash social welfare function, which can be represented as follows:

W(x)={U1(x) * U2(x) * U(3(x) . . . Un(x)}

Rather than adding individual utilities, we multiply them! And yes, the "Nash" in Bernoulli-Nash is John Nash of "A Beautiful Mind" fame.

What About the Problem of Interpersonal Comparison?

Social welfare functions are much discussed in legal theory these days. One of the reasons for the contemporary debate over social welfare functions is that this approach has been championed by Louis Kaplow and Steven Shavell (both of the Harvard Law School). Their book, Welfare versus Fairness, has put the welfarist approach to normative economics "front and center."

One of the interesting theoretical questons about SWFs concerns the problem of interpersonal comparison. How do we get the values to plug into U1(x), U2(x), and so forth. That is, how do we compare up with a way of putting my utility and your utility on the same scale. As I understand the state of play, this is not a topic on which economists agree. Some economists believe that there is no objective way of producing interpersonally comparable cardinal utility values. But some economists believe that a third-party (the legal analyst or the economist) can do the job of assigning values to individual utilities.

Conclusion

We've barely begun to scratch the surface of the many interesting theoretical issues that attend the use of social welfare functions in legal theory. Some of those issues were explored in a prior Legal Theory Lexicon entry on Balancing Tests. Even if you have absolutely no background in economics, there is no reason to shy away from the debates about social welfare functions. The notation, although at first intimidating, is actually very simple. The foundational ideas, although sometimes articulated in the jargon of economic theory, really go to fundamental questions in moral theory. I hope this post has given you the tools to begin to discuss these ideas!

Related Lexicon Entries

Legal Theory Lexicon 008: Utilitarianism

Legal Theory Lexicon 060: Efficiency, Pareto, and Kaldor-Hicks

Links

Social welfare function, Wikipedia

Bibliography

Kenneth J. Arrow, Social Choice and Individual Values (2d ed. 1963)

Abram Bergson, A Reformulation of Certain Aspects of Welfare Economics, 52 Quarterly Jounal of Economics 310 (1938).

John C. Harsanyi, Interpersonal Utility Comparisons, 2 The New Palgrave: A Dictionary of Economics, 955 (1987).

Lawrence Solum, Public Legal Reason, 92 Virginia Law Review 1449 (2006).

Kotaro Suzumura, Social Welfare Function, 4 The New Palgrave: A Dictionary of Economics, v. 4, 418-20 (1987).

(This entry was last modified on May 18, 2008.)

Legal Theory Lexicon 024: Balancing Tests

Introduction

Balancing tests are ubiquitous in American law. From the Due Process Clause to the Freedom of Speech and from the federal joinder rules to personal jurisdiction, U.S. law makes the outcome of legal disputes dependent on the balancing of various interests and factors. Law students quickly become familiar with the idea of a balancing test, and moreover, are likely to quickly develop a cynical attitude about their constraining power. "So it's just subjective?"--is a question often asked in classroom discussion when a balancing test is announced. This post provides a rough and ready introduction to the theoretical issues raised by the notion of a "balancing test." As always, my intended audience consists of law students, especially first years, with an interest in legal theory.

Case-by-Case versus Systemic Balancing

The first distinction to master when thinking about balancing tests is that between case-by-case and systemic balancing. When a court adopts a case=by-case balancing test, the test is applied to each case, one case at a time. For example, in personal jurisdiction law, a case-by-case balancing test is used to determine whether assertions of personal jurisdiction are consistent with the Due Process Clause. But not all balancing is done on a case-by-case basis. For example, Mathews v. Eldridge announced a balancing test for determining whether pre-deprivation hearings are required by Due Process. This balancing test is applied to general categories (types) of deprivations. Once it has been determine that the balancing test does not require a hearing in category (e.g. Social Security disability benefit cases), the result is a categorical rule that can be applied to the category without further balancing.

There is, of course, an analogy between the difference between case-by-case versus systemic balancing and the difference between act and rule utilitarianism. Act utilitarianism makes the rightness of an action depend on the consequences of that individual action. Rule utilitarianism makes the rightness of an action depend on whether the action conforms to the system of rules that would produce the best consequences. This analogy points to a larger concept--the scope of decision problem. Many legal theories assume that the scope of decision is an individual action or case, whereas others look to individual legal rules and yet others look to types of rules.

Here is a nifty move, made famous by David Lyons (the legal philosopher who teaches at Boston University). Lyons argued that rule utilitarianism could be shown to be extensionally equivalent to act utilitarianism. His argument was beautifully simple. Take a rule and a particular action that would be required by act utilitarianism but forbidden by the utility maximizing rule. Now imagine an exception to the rule that would allow the utility maximizing action to be treated differently. The new rule-plus-exception produces more utility than the old rule. Hence rule utilitarianism requires the new rule. Lyons argued that we can iterate this move until rule utilitarianism and act utilitarianism require exactly the same results.

One more point about case-by-case versus systemic balancing. Both kinds of balancing can be done ex post (backwards looking) or ex ante forward looking. Take the Learned Hand balancing test for negligence. This test requires us to compare the cost of safety (ex post) against the benefits (ex post). This is ex post, case-by-case balancing. But when courts decide whether to issue an injunction, they sometimes "balance the equities," ex ante, asking whether the injuries done if the injunction does not issue will outweigh those that will result if the injunction is entered--in the future. Likewise, systemic balancing can be done either ex post or ex ante.

What is Balanced?

Yet another question that must be faced by any balancing test is "What is balanced?" Courts seem to think that just about any sort of interest or factor can be balanced. One kind of balancing test is represented by the International Shoe test for personal jurisdiction. This test balances interests--i.e. the interest of the plaintiff in the forum, the interest of the forum in the dispute, and so forth. Another kind of balancing test takes a variety of so-called factors into account: "prejudice to the defendant," "the impact on nonparties," and so forth in the case of tests for mandatory joinder. Properly speaking, such factors cannot really be balanced. Interests belong on the same scale--at least if they are the right kind of interests, but "factors" are usually considerations that bear in complex ways on a decision. The integration of multiple factors into a decision may involve balancing, but it also may involve reasoning that doesn’t actually weigh and compare commensurables.

The Commensurability Problem

This last point about balancing tests leads to a very fundamental idea in legal theory. Some approaches to moral theory make all ultimate values commensurable. In contemporary law and economics, for example, one approach reduces all value to preference-satisfaction, which then can be weighed via a Bergson-Samuelson social utility function. W(x) = F {U1(x), U2(x), . . UN(x)}, where F is some increasing function, U1 is the utility of state of affairs X for individual number 1, and so forth. Although some forms of consequentialism have the property of making all values commensurable, many moral theories do not have this property. Deontological ethics and virtue ethics, for example, generally are interpreted as maintaining that not all values are commensurable and hence as denying that balancing is even possible in some choice situations.

The commensurability problem also provides a nifty move for legal theorists. If someone proposes a balancing test, ask yourself if the things that it requires to be weighed are such that they really can be measured on the same scale. If not, then the proposed balancing test simply will not be able to do the work assigned to it.

Cost-Benefit Analysis 

The use of balancing tests is closely related to another idea in legal theory, "cost-benefit analysis."  Whereas balancing tests are associated with judges and legal doctrine, the idea of "cost-benefit analysis" is usually associated with policymaking by legislatures and regulatory agencies.  Cost-benefit analysis requires that all of the good and bad consequences associated with a decision be reduced to monetary values & this requires information and analytic techniques that are rarely available to judges.  Whereas interest-balancing is holistic and intuitve, cost-benefit analysis requires calculation based on cost and benefit information.

Balancing Tests and the Rule of Law

Yet another issue concerning balancing tests is the fancy version of the law student's intuition that balancing tests are subjective. Justice Scalia, for example, has argued that balancing tests undermine the rule of law because of their subjectivity and elasticity. If we believe that the rule of law values--certainty and predictability of the law--are very great social goods, then we have a general reason to prefer categorical rules to balancing tests. On the other hand, some balancing tests may be actually be more predictable than some rules with respect to a particular problem. For example, a case could be made that the "purposeful availment" component of the International Shoe test for personal jurisdiction is more subjective than the multifactor balancing component of the Shoe test. Some rules are very fuzzy; some balancing tests are quite precise.

Conclusion

Balancing tests are so common in American law, that you might begin to take them for granted, but that would be a mistake. Almost every balancing test raises interesting issues of legal theory. I hope this post has provided you with the tools to begin asking those questions.

Related Lexicon Entries

Legal Theory Lexicon 008: Utilitarianism

Legal Theory Lexicon 026: Rules, Standards, and Principles

Legal Theory Lexicon 025: Social Welfare Functions

Legal Theory Lexicon 060: Efficiency, Pareto, and Kaldor-Hicks

Links

Balancing Test, Wikipedia.

Bibliography

James G. Wilson, Surveying The Forms Of Doctrine On The Bright Line-Balancing Test Continuum, 27 Ariz. St. L.J. 773 (1995).

T. Alexander Aleinikoff, Constitutional Law in the Age of Balancing, 96 YALE L.J. 943 (1987).

(Last modified on May 18, 2008.)

Legal Theory Lexicon 023: Procedural Justice

Introduction Recently, the Legal Theory Lexicon provided a very general entry on the the topic of justice. The notion of justice can be analyzed in many ways, but one good place to start is with Aristotle. Aristotle divides the topic of justice into two main parts, corrective justice and distributive justice. Distributive justice concerns the division of shares in social benefits and burdens; thus, many questions of tax policy are questions of distributive justice. Corrective justice involves the rectification of injustice, and thus includes a variety of topics from criminal law, torts, and contracts, among many others. Supplementing Aristotle's account, let us say that "procedural justice" is concerned with the means by which social groups (including governments, private institutions, and families) institutionalize the application of requirements of corrective and distributive justice to particular cases. This entry in the Lexicon provides an introduction to the idea of procedural justice for law students (especially first years) with an interest in legal theory.

Slicing a Cake Our approach to the idea of procedural justice may be made easier by using a simple example. Consider the familiar procedure for dividing a cake: the person who slices the cake picks last. What makes this a fair procedure? One answer to this question might be the following: there is an independent criterion of what constitutes a fair outcome, equal slices for all, and the slicer-picks-last rule assures that we will get to this outcome. Slicer-picks-last is fair because guarantees accuracy. Or does it? If we really wanted to assure perfectly equal slices, then we could use a compass and the principles of plane geometry, with equal shares as a more reliable result. But this strikes us as an undue amount of fuss to go through when slicing a cake. Perhaps, the reason we believe that the slicer-picks-last rule is a fair procedure is that it strikes a fair balance between the importance of the outcome and the cost of getting there: the rule gets us close to equal shares most of the time at a reasonable price. Slicer-picks last might be considered fair, because does a good job of balancing. Or is there something more to the idea that the slicer-picks-last rule is fair? Maybe the reason we believe that the slicer gets a fair share is because the slicer was the one who did the cutting; the slicer's participation in the cutting validates the outcome, even if the slicer ends up with a smaller slice (or among the calorie conscious, a bigger slice). Slicer-picks-last could be a fair rule, because of process independently of outcome.

Perfect, Imperfect, and Pure Procedural Justice These questions about the fairness of procedures for slicing a cake can be generalized by setting out a framework for analyzing the idea of procedural justice. In A Theory of Justice, John Rawls distinguishes three very general and abstract kinds of procedural justice: (1) perfect procedural justice, (2) imperfect procedural justice, and (3) pure procedural justice. Consider perfect procedural justice first. There are, he writes,

two characteristic features of perfect procedural justice. First, there is an independent criterion of what is a fair division, a criterion defined separately from and prior to the procedure which is to be followed. And second, it is possible to devise a procedure that is sure to give that desired outcome.

Rawls argues that our rule for the slicing of cakes is an example of perfect procedural justice. The person who slices picks last; Rawls believes that this procedure insures the equal division of shares. "Equal shares for each" is the independent criterion of a fair division; the slicer-picks-last rule is the procedure that reliably produces that outcome.
In the case of imperfect procedural justice, the first characteristic, an independent criterion for fairness of outcome, is present, but the second, a procedure that guarantees that outcome, is not. Rawls contends:

Imperfect procedural justice is exemplified by a criminal trial. The desired outcome is that the defendant should be declared guilty if and only if he has committed the offense with which he is charged. The trial procedure is framed to search for and to establish the truth in this regard. But it seems impossible to design the legal rules so that they always lead to the correct result. The theory of trials examines which procedures and rules of evidence, and the like, are best calculated to achieve this purpose consistent with the other ends of the law. Different arrangements for hearing cases may reasonably be expected in different circumstances to yield the right results, not always but at least most of the time.

Thus, imperfect procedural justice incorporates the notion of an independent criterion for accuracy but adds the notion of "other ends of the law," e.g., considerations of cost that may be balanced against accuracy. The final notion is "pure procedural justice." Rawls writes:

[P]ure procedural justice obtains when there is no independent criterion for the right result: instead there is a correct or fair procedure such that the outcome is likewise correct or fair, whatever it is, provided that the procedure has been properly followed. This situation is illustrated by gambling. If a number of persons engage in a series of fair bets, the distribution of cash after the last bet is fair, or at least not unfair, whatever this distribution is.

Pure procedural justice rejects an underlying assumption of both perfect and imperfect procedural justice--the assumption that there is an independent criterion for what constitutes the correct outcome. There are not criteria for the correct outcome except for an ideal (or actual) set of procedures.

Three Models of Procedural Justice: Accuracy, Balancing, and Participation Rawls's theory provides an abstract framework that can be used to categorize theories of procedural justice, but it doesn't tell us what the content of a theory of procedural justice might be. Three approaches have been characteristic of thinking about procedural justice--one emphasizes accuracy, the second cost, and the third participation. Each of these three approaches can be expressed as simply model of procedural justice:

The Accuracy Model We can begin with the utopian hypothesis that the current doctrine is structured by an implicit conception of perfect procedural justice?the accuracy model?corresponding to the idea of perfect procedural justice. The core idea of this model is that the aim of procedure is a search for truth?e.g. conclusions of law that are correct and findings of fact that are true.

But there are severe problems with the accuracy model. Given that civil procedure imposes real costs on litigants and society at large, it is difficult to argue that the smallest marginal gain in accuracy is worth the largest investment of resources. Justice has a price, and there is a point at which that price is not worth paying. Moreover, we have every reason to believe that accuracy is subject to the law of diminishing returns. If we were to make perfect accuracy our highest commitment, we would find that as we got closer and closer to our goal, the cost of reducing the marginal rate of error would become higher and higher. We will reach a point where society would be required to invest enormous resources for the most infinitesimal gain in accuracy.

The Balancing Model The second model "the balancing model" corresponds to the idea of imperfect procedural justice. The consequentialist version of imperfect procedural justice finds substantial support in the decisions of the Supreme Court that interpret the Due Process Clauses of the United States Constitution. The most striking example is provided by the balancing test announced in Mathews v. Eldridge:

[O]ur prior decisions indicate that identification of the specific dictates of due process generally requires consideration of three distinct factors: First, the private interest that will be affected by the official action; second, the risk of an erroneous deprivation of such interest through the procedures used, and the probable value, if any, of additional or substitute procedural safeguards; and finally, the Government's interest, including the function involved and the fiscal and administrative burdens that the additional or substitute procedural requirement would entail.

Beginning with the emphasis on balancing in doctrine, we could construct a utilitarian conception of imperfect procedural justice. This effort is complicated, however, because there are many forms of utilitarianism; for our purposes, we might consider ideal rule utilitarianism, in which an act is right if and only if it is conformity with the system of rules, which if universally followed would produce the best consequences. Let us make a further simplifying assumption: that all of the relevant costs can be expressed as prices. The resultant approach will be roughly similar to some law and economics approaches.

Consider for example, Richard Posner's economic analysis of procedure. He writes, "The objective of a procedural system, viewed economically, is to minimize the sum of two costs. The first is "the cost of erroneous judicial decisions." The second type of cost is "the cost of operating the procedural system." Operating costs are borne by the public, in the form of subsidies to the judicial system and by the parties in the form of court fees, attorneys' fees, and litigation costs.

The Participation Model The third model--the participation model?corresponds to the idea of pure procedural justice. The key notion is that it is it is participation in the process and not outcome that defines procedural justice. The second interpretation of the participation model connects the independent value of process with the dignity of those who are affected by legal proceedings. One way of articulating this central notion is that everyone is entitled to their day in court. This right to participation is justified by a background right of political morality, i.e. the right of persons (or citizens) to be treated with dignity and respect. A procedure which ensures parties an opportunity to participate in the process of making decisions that affect them might be counted as a just procedure for this reason, independently of the correctness of the outcome that results from the procedures.

On influential version of the participation model has been developed by Jerry Mashaw. Mashaw states the intuitive idea as follows:

At an intuitive level, a dignity approach is appealing. We all feel that process matters to us irrespective of result. This intuition may be a delusion. We may be so accustomed to rationalizing demands for improvement in our personal prospects, in the purportedly neutral terms of process fairness, that we can no longer distinguish between outcome-oriented motives and process-oriented arguments. * * * Yet there seems to be something to the intuition that process itself matters. We do distinguish between losing and being treated unfairly. And, however fuzzy our articulation of the process characteristics that yield a sense of unfairness, it is commonplace for us to describe process affronts as somehow related to disrespect for our individuality, to our not being taken seriously as persons.

In recent years, the question whether participation has value that is independent of outcomes has been enormously controversial. The participation model reflects the view that participation matters for reasons other than cost and accuracy. Most advocates of the balancing model deny that participation has independent value--other than a subjective taste for participation which can be weighed in a cost-benefit analysis.

Conclusion Of course, procedural justice is a very large topic, and we have only begun to scratch the surface. Law students encounter ideas about procedural justice in a variety of courses: Civil Procedure, Criminal Procedure, and Administrative Law are among the classes in which procedural justice may become an important focus of discussion. I hope this Lexicon post gives you a lively sense of the basic structure of legal thinking about procedural justice.

Online Resource

Lawrence Solum, Procedural Justice (PDF)

Bibliography

• Robert Bone, Agreeing to Fair Process: The Problem with Contractarian Theories of Procedural Fairness, 83 B.U. L. REV. 485, 488-89 (2003).
• Mathews v. Eldrige, 424 U.S. 319 (1976).
• Jerry L. Mashaw, Due Process In The Administrative State (1985).
• Richard Posner, Economic Analysis Of Law (1992).
• John Rawls, A Theory Of Justice (1971)

(This entry was last revised on April 13, 2004.)

Legal Theory Lexicon 022: Intention

Introduction Was it intentional? Did he intend to kill? What were the original intentions of the framers of the United States Constitution? "Intention" is an important concept for legal theory. On the one hand, "intention" figures prominently in theories of criminal law and tort law. On the other hand, constitutional theory is interested in the idea of "the original intentions of the framers." This post provides a very rough and ready introduction to the idea of "intent" and related notions of "intentionality" for law students (especially first year law students) with an interest in legal theory.

A Note on Terminology Legal theory is most concerned with "intentions" of the ordinary sort: "The defendant intended to kill" or "The Framers intended 'commerce' to exclude 'agriculture' in the commerce clause."--uses like these involve the ordinary legal use of "intention." There are, however, two related philosophical concepts that might be confused with this sense of intention. Philosophers use the word "intentionality" to refer to the ability of mental states to represent things, properties and states of affairs: in this special sense, all mental states are intentional. And philosophers also have a more technical concept of "intensionality"--spelled with an "s" rather than a "t" after the second "n"--that is used to refer to an important logical feature of words and sentences. A sentence is an intensional context if its truth value is sensitive to the substitution of referentially equivalent descriptions: don't worry, the jargon will be explained!. Ordinary intentions exhibit intentionality, intention sentences are intensional--hence the potential for confusion.

Actions Are Intended Under a Description Jane hears a knock on the door and sees someone in the uniform of a package delivery company with a package. She invites the person in. She does not know that the person she has invited into her home is "the Westside rapist"--a serial rapist who disguises himself as a delivery person. If we ask her, did you intend to let "him" in, her answer will depend on the description we give. Did you intend to let the man in the delivery uniform in? Her answer will be "Yes." Did you intend to let the Westside rapist in? Her answer will be "No." The lesson of this example is that actions are intentional under a description. The very same individual was both "the man in the delivery uniform" and "the Westside rapist," but Jane's intentions were not the same with respect to the two different descriptions.

Transparent and Opaque Contexts Actions are intentional under a description. Because of that fact, philosophers say that intention is a referentially opaque context. Boy, that is mouthful. What does that mean? Let's take a context that does not involve intentionality. The sentence "The Westside rapist entered Jane's house" does not involve an attribution of an intention. And we can substitute a different description for "Westside rapist" without affecting the truth value of the statement. Assuming that the Westside rapist did enter Jane's house and that his name was Norman Heathcliff, then all of the following statements would be true:

The Westside rapist entered Jane's house.--True. Norman Heathcliff entered Jane's house.--True. The man in the delivery uniform entered Jane's house.--True. The man on he porch entered Jane's house.--True.

We can substitute any description that refers to "Norman Heathcliff" and the truth value of the sentence is unaffected. A sentence that has this property is called "referentially transparent" or "an extensional context."

Now, let's go back to intention. Suppose that Jane lets the man into her house, but does not know that he is the Westside rapist or that he is named "Norman Heathcliff." Truth value now will vary depending on how the man is described :

Jane intended to let the man in the delivery uniform into her house.--True. Jane intended to let the Westside rapist into her house.--False. Jane intended to let Norman Heathcliff into her house.--False. Jane intended to let the man on the porch into her house.--True.

But the four descriptions all refer to the same man. Because you cannot substitute referentially equivalent descriptions into expressions of intentions, we say that such expressions are "referentially opaque" or that they are "intensional" contexts. (Notice again that intensional was spelled with an "s".)

The distinction between opaque and transparent contexts is fundamental to the philosophy of language, and this distinction figures prominently in philosophical writing about "intention." This may all sound a bit abstract, but this distinction is worth mastering. If you don't know it, you will not be able to follow any really sophisticated discussion about intention.

What difference does the distinction between referentially transparent and opaque contexts make to the law? That's a big question, but here is one example. Some theories of constitutional or statutory interpretation assert that questions about the applicability of a legal rule can be settled by reference to the intentions of the authors of the statute. One line of attack on this view focuses on the question whether a collective body (e.g. a legislature or constitutional convention) has intentions in the same sense as does an individual. Putting that objection to the side, the distinction between opaque and transparent contexts can be used to build a different sort of objection. Suppose that we have only one legislator, Rex, and that Rex enacts a legal rule. Now a judge, Solomon, must apply the rule in a case where the meaning of the rule is either vague or ambiguous. Can Solomon simply apply the rule as Rex would intend? In some cases, the answer to this question may be "yes," but not in all. Why not? Because Rex may have intended the rule to apply to the case under some descriptions of the case, but not under others. Boy, that's abstract. Can you make your point more concrete?

Consider this example. The same Congress that enacted the 14th Amendment's equal protection clause also segregated the schools of the District of Columbia. Suppose that this Congress had the following two intentions: (1) Congress intended that the equal protection clause should prohibit discrimination on the basis of race, and (2) Congress intended that the equal protection clause should not prohibit segregation of the public schools. Now suppose that we believe a third thing: segregation of the public schools is discrimination on the basis of race. Given this situation, the "intentions of Congress" cannot directly settle a particular case, e.g. Brown v. Board of Education. Under one description, Congress would intend that the case should be decided for Brown; under another description, Congress would intend that the case should be decided for the Board. Both descriptions are true of the case.

Of course, I haven't developed this objection or the possible responses in a deep or thorough way. There is lots more to say. But the point is this. Legal rules are the product of intentional actions. Like all actions, lawmaking is intentional under a description. This means that statements about legislative intentions are referentially opaque. But when we apply a legal rule to a fact situation, we can describe the facts in many different ways. (A vast number of descriptions can refer to any particular legal dispute.) If intentions are to be used to as the basis for interpreting legal rules, it cannot be on the basis of a theory that says only, "Decide the case as the intentions of the lawmaker require." More will be required to make such a theory work.

Intention and Foreseeable Consequences Does "intending an action" make a difference to either moral or legal responsibility? The distinction between intentional and unintentional action certainly seems to be important to both tort law and criminal law. Tort law differentiates between intentional torts and torts based on negligence or strict liability. Criminal law involves what is called mens rea or the "mental state" that is an element of the crime. In ordinary morality, we differentiate between intentional infliction of harm as more culpable than mere negligence.

Most law students encounter the problem of foreseeable but unintended consequences in both criminal law and torts. Consider the following examples:

--Example One: Ben has a gun. He aims at Alice and shoots, hoping to kill her. Her death was what he was trying to accomplish.
--Example Two: Carlos plants a bomb under the bridge. He wants to destroy the bridge, but he also knows that when he triggers the bomb Dawn is on the bridge right over the powerful bomb. Carlos regrets that Dawn died, and he had hoped that by some miracle Dawn would live.
--Example Three: Edgar is holding Francis and Gertrude captive. When Edgar's demands aren't met, he executes Francis. Edgar regrets that he had to do this, but he believes this is the only way that he will be able to intimidate Francis and Gertrude's employer into paying a ransom for Francis.
--Example Four: Harry shoots in the air on New Year's Eve. The bullet goes up and comes down, killing Ingrid. Harry did not intend to kill anyone, but he did recognize that there was a small risk that his bullet might strike and injure or kill.

In all four cases, we can say that one person killed another: Ben killed Alice, Carlos killed Dawn, Edgar killed Francis, and Harry killed Ingrid. But each case differs with respect to intentionality:

In example one, Ben intended to kill Alice and her death was his end.
In example two, Carlos intended to blow up the bridge and Dawn's death was a foreseen and very likely consequence of this intentional act, but Carlos did not directly intend to kill Dawn.
In example three, Edgar intended to kill Francis, but her death was a means to a further end--payment of the ransom.
In example four, Harry did not intend to kill Ingrid, but his intentional act foreseeably resulted in her death.

Are these cases alike or different? Morally or legally? Of course, those are big questions, but we can make a little progress on them. Cases one, two, and three are usually considered to be indistinguishable so far as culpability is concerned: in all three cases, the actor intends the death of the victim. Case four is usually considered to be distinguishable from cases one, two, and three: case four involves negligence which may be culpable but is not as blameworthy as intentional killing. Case two--where the Dawn's death is foreseen as highly likely but is not desired--is sometimes said to involve "oblique intention." Even though the death in case two was not directly intended, it is nonetheless the natural and foreseeable consequence of the intended action (blowing up the bridge while someone is on it).

Trolley Problems In all four cases described above, the action that results in death is clearly wrongful. But that is not so clear in the famous "Trolley Problem." Here is a statement of the problem:

A trolley is running out of control down a track. In its path are 5 people who have been tied to the track by a mad philosopher. Fortunately, you can flip a switch which will lead the trolley down a different track. Unfortunately, there is a single person tied to that track. Should you flip the switch with the result that one will die instead of five?

Most philosophers agree that it is morally permissible to flip the switch. The philosopher and legal theorist John Mikhail has done a series of experiments that confirm that most ordinary people agree. If you pull the switch, you act intentionally and you cause the death of the one person. Now consider a second problem, "Organ Harvesting":

You are a surgeon performing elective surgery on a healthy person. Five other patients are on the verge of death, but could be saved if you killed your healthy patient and harvested her organs. Should you kill your patient?

Almost everyone (except perhaps some hard-core act utilitarians) agrees that killing the patient is morally impermissible. Both cases involve causing the death of one to save five. But in the "Trolley Problem," you do not directly intend the death; in the Trolley problem, you may hope that through some miracle the one person escapes death. In "Organ Harvesting," on the other hand, the surgeon must intend the patient's death. The organs can only be harvested if the patient is killed. Perhaps it is the intention to kill that makes the difference to our moral intuitions.

Our discussion of the Trolley Problem has been very brief and superficial. For more, you can follow this link. For our purposes, the point of the trolley problem is to suggest that intention is potentially important to questions of culpability.

Warning As with many topics in the Lexicon, we have only skimmed the surface.  Experts on intentionality in philosophy and criminal law theory would surely disagree with some of what I have said and would have much more to say.

Conclusion Every legal theorist needs a basic mastery of "intention." But this is a very deep topic. If you are drawn to the theory of criminal law or the theory of torts or to constitutional theory or statutory interpretation, you will want to know more about "intent." Hopefully, this entry will get you started.

Links

George Wilson, Action, Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy

Alison McIntry, Doctrine of Double Effect, Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy

Frances Howard-Snyder, Doing vs. Allowing Harm, Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy

(This entry was last revised on April 6, 2008.)

Legal Theory Lexicon 021: Speech Acts

Introduction

Speech act theory will forever be associated with the great J. L. Austin, the Oxford philosopher whose work in the 1950s had an enormous influence on analytic philosophy. One of Austin's core insights is reflected in the title of his William James lectures, delivered at Harvard in 1955, How to Do Things with Words. When we use language, we don't just communicate information or say things about how the world is; when we use language, we do things. We command, request, apologize, contract, convey, and admonish. Speech act theory focuses on the ways in which language (both oral and written) can be used to perform actions.

Legal theorists are interested in speech act theory for a variety of reasons, but one of the most important is that speech act theory helps to explain the way that the law uses language. Statutes, holdings, and constitutional provisions aren't like "the cat is on the mat." That is, a statute does not tell us how the world is in the same way that a declaratory sentence does. Legal language is full of speech acts. This entry in the Legal Theory Lexicon provides a rough and ready introduction to speech act theory pitched at law students (especially first-year law students) with an interest in legal theory.


Sentences, Propositions, Meaning, and Truth

There are lots of ways we could start, but let's begin with a simple sentence. "The sidebar of legal theory blog contains a link to Balkinization." What does this sentence mean? One answer to that question is pretty straightforward. There is an object in the world (the sidebar of legal theory blog) and that object includes another, "a link to Balkinization." Simple declarative sentences like this have truth values (or are "truth-apt"). In this case, the sentence is true, because the sidebar to Legal Theory Blog actually does have a link to Balkinization. There is a temptation to think that all sentences are like simple declarative sentences in that (1) the meaning of the sentence can be cashed out by the way it refers to the actual world, and (2) if the sentence is meaningful (i.e. it succeeds in referring), then the sentence has a truth value.

O.K., that was a lot to swallow, but what does it have to do with "speech acts"? Now, take this expression in English: "Please add my blog to your blogroll." Does this sentence refer to anything? Well, it does include elements that refer, e.g. "my blog" and "your blogroll." But this sentence doesn't assert that my blog is on your blogroll. It may imply that my blog currently is not on your blogroll, but that implicit assertion doesn't exhaust its meaning. The sentence "Please add my blog to your blogroll" is a request. By uttering (or posting) these words, I am making a request. If you do add my blog to your blogroll, the request will succeed. If you don't, the request will have failed. Although the request can succeed or fail, it would be strange indeed to say that "Please add my blog to your blogroll" is either true or false. Requests are not truth-apt; they do not bear truth values.

Are there any other types of expressions that are similar to requests? Once we start looking, we will discover lots and lots. Orders, questions, offers, acceptances, warnings, invitations, greetings, welcomes, thank yous--all of these are types of expressions that do not seem to refer or to have truth values. What do these expressions mean then, if they don't refer? When I gave an order, I perform an action--the act of ordering X to do Y. When I make an offer, I perform an action--the act of creating a legally effective option for the offeree to form a legally binding contract by accepting the offer. When I extend an invitation to a party, I perform an action--the act of inviting person P to event E. Speech act theory begins with the idea that language can be used to perform actions.

Form and Function

We might be tempted to think that we can tell the difference between sentences that describe the world and expressions that perform actions simply by their form. So we might be tempted to say, "Sentences of the form X is Y express propositions that refer," whereas sentences of the form, "I hereby do X" perform a speech act. But language is much messier than this. Take the sentence, "This room is a pig sty." In some contexts, this sentence might be referential. If one were taking a tour of an animal husbandry research facility, the sentence "This room is a pig sty" might express a true proposition about the function of a particular room. But if the same words were used by a parent, in an annoyed tone, and directed to a teenage child, the real meaning of the expression might be, "Clean up your room!" Certain forms are characteristically associated with propositions that refer and others with the performance of speech acts, but the question of meaning depends on the context of utterance.

Utterance, Locution, Illocution, Perlocution

With the basic idea of a speech act under out belts, we can now introduce a useful set of terminological distinctions:

• Utterance--We can use the term "utterance" to refer to the words (e.g. the sounds or letters) that constitute a particular use of language.
• Locution--We can use the term "locution" to refer to the semantic meaning of the utterance.
• Illocution--We can use the term "illocution" to refer to the speech act that is performed by use of a particular utterance in a particular context.
• Perlocution--We can use the term "perlocution" to refer to the effect that a given expression has when it is uttered in a particular context.

Take the example of the sentence, "This room is a pig sty." The utterance is simply the words that are used: suppose this is an oral statement in English made by a parent to a child on a particular occasion. The same parent could utter similar worlds in English (or another language) that have the same semantic content. "The family room is a pig sty"--would express the same propositional content as "This room is a pig sty" if "this room" was "the family room." The illocutionary force of this statement is ambiguous. If the child spoken to was responsible for the mess, then both parent and child might understand that "This room is a pig sty" is the equivalent of "Clean up this room." The same illocutionary force can be obtained by a variety of expressions. Finally, the perlocutionary effect of "This room is a pig sty" will also depend on context. The effect might be to produce shame, but it might also produce anger. Thus, one utterance has both locutionary content, illocutionary force, and perlocutionary effect.


A Typology of Speech Acts

One of the tasks of speech act theory has been to develop typologies of speech acts. Here is one typology developed by Bach and Hamish:

• Constatives: affirming, alleging, announcing, answering, attributing, claiming, classifying, concurring, confirming, conjecturing, denying, disagreeing, disclosing, disputing, identifying, informing, insisting, predicting, ranking, reporting, stating, stipulatin
• Directives: advising, admonishing, asking, begging, dismissing, excusing, forbidding, instructing, ordering, permitting, requesting, requiring, suggesting, urging, warning
• Commissives: agreeing, guaranteeing, inviting, offering, promising, swearing, volunteering
• Acknowledgments: apologizing, condoling, congratulating, greeting, thanking, accepting (acknowledging an acknowledgment)

There are other ways of slicing and dicing the types of speech acts, but Bach and Hamish's typology gives a good sense of how such a typology might work.


Speech Act Theory and Legal Theory

How can legal theorists use speech act theory? We could start by noting the important role that speech acts play in the law. Laws themselves might be seen as speech acts--as types of commands or authorizations. In contract law, issues of contract formation frequently turn on questions whether particular utterances were speech acts of particular types. Was this utterance an offer? Was that statement an acceptance? In a very general way, speech act theory is helpful simply because it allows us to understand legal phenomena from a new angle.

Speech act theory may also be helpful in resolving particular sorts of doctrinal puzzles. For example, in the theory of the freedom of speech, one might be puzzled about the unprotected status of certain expressions. Oral contracts are speech. Threats are speech. An order from a Mafia boss to a hitman is speech. But no one thinks that these instances of speech raise serious questions under the First Amendment. Why not? One possible answer to this question could begin with "marketplace of ideas" theory of free speech famously associated with Justice Holmes--a theory that emphasizes the role of freedom of speech in facilitating the emergence of truth from the unrestricted public debate and discussion. Directive speech acts, such as orders, do not make truth claims, and hence might be entirely outside the freedom of speech. But constantive speech acts, such as affirming, conjecturing, or disagreeing, do make speech claims and hence would raise free speech issues on the marketplace of ideas theory. Of course, one paragraph does not a theory of the freedom of speech make--for more on this, see my Freedom of Communicative Action.

Here is another example. The hearsay rule is notoriously difficult to conceptualize precisely, because the canonical formulation, that hearsay is "an out-of-court declaration introduced for the truth of the matter asserted," is not transparent. Speech act theory may perform a clarifying function. The phrase "out of court declaration" may be clarified by reference to the categories of speech acts: out-of-court declarations are constantive speech acts. Other categories of speech acts, e.g. directives, commisives, and acknowledgements, are not declarations. Moreover, the phrase "for the truth of the matter asserted" may be illuminated by distinguishing propositional contents which may bear truth values, on the one hand, and illocutionary force and perlocutionary effects on the others. The hearsay rule is usually not violated if an out-of-court declaration is introduced for the purpose of demonstrating its illocutionary force. For example, a third party can testify to the making of an oral contract for the purpose of showing that the action--making the contract--was performed.

If you are interested in acquiring a very basic knowledge of speech act theory, I recommend that you start with Austin's marvelous How to Do Things with Words. Although many of Austin's particular points have been criticized or superceded by subsequent work, this is a marvelous book--concise, illuminating, and a model of ordinary language philosophy at its best. More advanced readings are included in the bibliography below.


Links

• Mitchell Green, "Speech Acts" in the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.
• Kent Bach, "Speech Acts" entry in the Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy.
• What Is a Speech Act?
• Kepa Korta, Pragmatics in the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy

Bibliography

• Austin, J. L. (1962) How to Do Things with Words, Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press.
• Bach, K. and R. M. Harnish (1979), Linguistic Communication and Speech Acts, Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press.
• Grice, H. P. (1989) Studies in the Way of Words, Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press.
• Searle, J. (1969) Speech Acts: An Essay in the Philosophy of Language, Cambridge, Eng.: Cambridge University Press.
• Lawrence B. Solum, Freedom of Communicative Action: A Theory of the First Amendment Freedom of Speech, 83 Northwestern University Law Review 54 (1988 1989).
• Strawson, P. F. (1964) 'Intention and convention in speech acts', Philosophical Review 73: 439-60.

(Last modified on May 18, 2008.)