tract critical attention. The book as a whole is a very welcome addition to a rich volumeof philosophical writing on the ethics of the family andof procreation and on the moral and political status of children and parents. Some thirty years ago these topics were a comparatively neglected area of study. They are not now. Liao's book considerably enhances this domain of work. It contributes a clear defense of a provocative thesis that needed identifying, and we should all now as a result have a clearer sense of what children, and parents, can claim as their rights. David Archard Queen's University Belfast Nussbaum, Martha C. Political Emotions: Why Love Matters for Justice. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2013. Pp. 457. $35.00 (cloth). InPolitical Emotions, Martha Nussbaum argues that political liberals can and should support state interventions that shape the emotional lives of citizens. In particular, she argues that aspiring liberal states-ones located in our less than ideal world- should cultivate loving political emotions that include patriotism and compassion. If they ignore this recommendation, Nussbaum argues, liberal regimes will be unstable, and their ideals of justice will remain unrealized; they will be unable to overcome partiality, selfishness, discrimination, racism, and other illiberal vices. Inmaking this argument, Nussbaum self-consciously builds on but goes beyond Rawls's work: she forcefully argues that political liberals need to dive into the realm of nonideal moral psychology so that they can articulate and face hard questions about how to achieve stability and feasibility-nonideal analogues to the questions that loom large in part 3 of Theory of Justice and that, as Paul Weithman (Why Political Liberalism? On John Rawls's Political Turn [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013]) has explained, drove Rawls to move to the views espoused in Political Liberalism. Nussbaum's argument impressively and productively cuts across disciplinary, historical, and cultural boundaries. For example, she begins with a thoughtprovoking interpretation of Mozart's Marriage of Figaro; fruitfully engages with the conceptions of civic religion favored by Rousseau, Comte, Mill, and Rabindranath Tagore; discusses the urban architecture of Delhi and Hyde Park; and conducts an empirically informed inquiry into the differences between animal and human compassion. Moreover, her warm and engaging writing style makes the book approachable and reminds us that philosophers can effectively write for an audience that transcends the ivory tower and that they can do so while being philosophically ambitious.Political Emotions combines critical thinking and emotional resonance in something like the way that Nussbaum thinks state action should, and it illustrates how discussions of narrative and history can provoke our emotions and thereby enrich our engagement with philosophic arguments; it is no doubt an impressive achievement. For the purposes of this review, I will bracket the book's admirable sweep and interdisciplinary riches and focus on Nussbaum's core thesis: that liberal regimes can and should cultivate love in order to achieve stability and put their ideals of justice in reach. To bring out the significance of this thesis, we can usefully identify three groups of people who will resist it. First,austere liberals will 298 Ethics October 2016 resist Nussbaum's claim that in the absence of political love aspiring liberal regimes will be unstable and unable to realize their ideals. An austere liberal might hope, for example, to achieve stability and realize liberal ideals by cultivating remedial virtues, such as conscientiousness, respect, and toleration, that promise to ground stability and justice without requiring citizens to develop mutual good will or love. The hope is that the remedial virtues will enable citizens with conflicting interests and conceptions of the good to constrain, suppress, or eliminate ill will and selfishness and that this will be enough to make liberal aspirations reasonable. To rebuff these austere proposals, Nussbaum needs to forcefully show that we need love-not justmoral self-rule, respect, and tolerance-to achieve stability and justice. The second group of likely critics, illiberal paternalistic reformers, will begin by granting what the austere liberals reject. They agree with Nussbaum that to achieve stability and justice we need good will and patriotism, not just civilized remedies for ill will and selfishness. But, unlike Nussbaum, these paternalistic reformers doubt that we can generate the needed political love by liberal means alone, and they think states should go ahead and adopt the relevant illiberal but necessary policies. Comte and Rousseau, for example, argue that states should formulate and forcefully institute civic religions in order to cultivate patriotism and other forms of political love. In discussing such paternalist proposals, Nussbaum endorses and develops the criticisms launched by Mill and Tagore and, positively, suggests that we can cultivate adequate patriotism, good will, and compassion through alternative liberal-kosher educational, rhetorical, and artistic means. But not all illiberal reformers will be convinced. Finally, third, we can anticipate that there will be inspired liberals who accept the basic argument of Nussbaum's book but worry that Nussbaum's proposals need some liberal amendment or augmentation. These inspired fellow travelers will want to help identify additional liberal policies that will enable us to produce compassionate and patriotic citizens and maintain reasonable hopes for stability and liberal progress. In this review I cannot explore all three groups or Nussbaum's likely response, but I will try to explain why I think Nussbaum needs to say more to respond to these critics while sketching her argument in a bit more detail. To begin, it will help to say something more about Nussbaum's argument for her core thesis and the account of "radical evil" on which it centrally rests. In chapter 7, Nussbaum provides her account of radical evil, which is a genetic account of the psychological forces that threaten stability and justice. She holds that this psychoanalytic account explains why the human timber out of which we must build our societies is crooked, and she also thinks it suggests how we can straighten the boards out. Less metaphorically, we can understand Nussbaum's overall argument for her core thesis as having three steps. First, she identifies some common negative psychological factors that impede good will or embody ill will and that, if ignored, will block liberal aspirations for stability and justice- primarily, she discusses selfishness, fear, disgust, and envy. Second, she provides a psychological account of the causes and ways of overcoming these negative factors (this is the account of radical evil and its overcoming). Finally, third, she argues that liberal state interventions (in the form of artistic productions, education, pubBook Reviews 299 lic speeches, architecture, etc.) can be implemented to undermine the negative factors and replace them with positive ones. Now the austere liberal might grant much of what Nussbaum argues at each step but ask for more evidence that the negative factors she mentions must be replaced with love in order to achieve stability and justice. I think this is a serious issue, but I want to leave it aside and focus on questions about her account of radical evil and how liberals can hope to achieve stability and justice. As I have described them, both inspired liberals and paternalistic reformers will want to heed Nussbaum's call to cultivate political love, but they will still raise hard questions about the liberal and empirical credentials of Nussbaum's account of radical evil and about whether this account needs to be supplemented if we are to diagnose and eliminate the impediments to love. First, I think we need to consider whether Nussbaum's account of radical evil has been established by appeal to sufficient, and sufficiently neutral, evidence. The account is broadly psychoanalytic, and she argues that it is supported by substantive clinical experience. In short, the account tells us that politically dangerous forms of selfishness, fear, disgust, and envy arise because people are not raised in a loving and trust-facilitating way that enables them to overcome primary narcissism and anxiety, through play and loving engagement. I myself find this account appealing and am therefore sympathetic to many of Nussbaum's proposals for cultivating love, but I also suspect that her psychoanalytic account would be rejected by many of my fellow citizens, especially by those who embrace Christian and Islamic theories of moral psychology and by Kantians who think evil has its source in rebellion against authority rather than in an anxious lack of trust or a childish denial of finitude. As a result, it seems to me that to respond to likely critics and establish the liberal credentials of her account, Nussbaum needs to canvas likely alternative explanations of selfishness, fear, disgust, and envy as they arise in childhood and provide more compelling neutral evidence in favor of her psychoanalytic one. Paternalistic reformersmight reject the need to provide such evidence and simply hold that the psychoanalytic account is true, but because she is a liberal, Nussbaum should feel more pressure to provide evidence and explain why it is neutral and sufficient. Second, even if we bracket concerns about Nussbaum's psychoanalytic account of the individual roots of selfishness, fear, disgust, and envy, we can entertain doubts about the adequacy of the reform project she sketches. The suggestions that make up her positive project are scattered throughout the book, but they are mainly made up of educational and cultural interventions aimed at (i) generating patriotism and compassion and (ii) assuaging the anxiety and denial of finitude that generate selfishness, fear, disgust, and envy. I imagine thatmany readers will approve of these proposed interventions and hope that they would generate increased good will and compassion, but I also imagine that many readers will share my worry about how much good will or love these can generate. Strong skepticism about the efficacy of her proposed interventions may be driven by disagreement about the nature of radical evil-if one thinks that selfishness, fear, disgust, and envy are fundamentally rooted in sinful rebellion instead of anxiety about leaving narcissism behind, one will be skeptical that public education and exposure to great secular art will uproot sin or somehow get 300 Ethics October 2016 sinners to replace ill will and selfishness with love. But those who accept her account of the individual roots of selfishness and ill will may still worry that there are social forces that will impede the development or expression of good will and sustain selfishness, racism, and so forth. Nussbaum's positive suggestions for cultivating love are largely guided by psychoanalytic ideas about how to help people overcome narcissism in their personal lives, but we might doubt that these same measures can be mimicked on a state level and lead to reliable or robust results. To make worries about the importance of social structures and forces more concrete, we can consider the specific good will blocking social forces that are identified by Elizabeth Anderson (The Imperative of Integration [Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2010]) and Alasdair MacIntyre ("Social Structures and Their Threats to Moral Agency," Philosophy 74 [1999]: 311–32). In her book The Imperative of Integration, Anderson provides us with an account of racial prejudice and the way that it blocks us from achieving justice and liberal equality. She gives an empirically grounded argument for thinking that prejudice and segregation aremutually reenforcing and that to undercut prejudice and achieve justice we must adopt bold integrationist policies. Anderson does not discuss an argument likeNussbaum's, but onemight expect her to argue thatpolitical loveof the sort Nussbaum wants either cannot be brought about or cannot generate stability and justice if the reenforcing prejudices, stereotypes, and patterns of segregation she identifies persist. At the least, she could ask Nussbaum to explain how we can reasonably hope that her proposed interventions will generate love without involving strong integrationist policies of the sort that Anderson mentions. Nussbaum's proposed cultural and educational interventions mimic interventions that are effective at the personal level, but at the societal level we may need to focus more attention on the social forces and mechanisms that shape people's good will and its effective expression in action. In a related vein, MacIntyre argues that contemporary modernized social systems pressure agents to compartmentalize their emotions and attitudes. For example, he would agree that the speeches, festivals, and operas that Nussbaum mentions can inspire good will in audiences but worry that agents may only embody their good will when with friends or family. He mentions a study of CEOs who are kind in personal contexts like that but who are less kind and do not even weigh considerations of kindness in professional contexts. I imaginehewould have analogous worries about Nussbaum's proposals and her hope that they can overcome the forms of selfishness that impede liberal justice. Of course even if MacIntyre is right and compartmentalization could block the efficacy of Nussbaum's proposals, that does not mean that wemust accept his apparently pessimistic view about our avenues and ability to overcome compartmentalization. The point is just that Nussbaum needs to say more about the various social structures that we find in modern societies and that impede the cultivation of political love. Now it is possible that Nussbaum would take my call for attention to social structures in stride. She might simply agree and point out that one book cannot do it all. Moreover, she does mention the importance of social psychology and briefly discuss the Milgram experiments in chapter 7, and, given her impressive output, she may well have addressed arguments like Anderson's and MacIntyre's elsewhere. Still, if she is to make a convincing case for why love matters for justice Book Reviews 301 and for her central thesis that aspiring liberal states can and should adopt her policies, I think she needs to address the worries I have expressed to do what she wants. Bradford Cokelet University of Kansas Pettit, Philip. On the People's Terms: A Republican Theory and Model of Democracy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012. Pp. 347. $74.00 (cloth); $27.99 (paper). Philip Pettit is the leading defender of republicanism in recent political philosophy, so the publication of his most fully articulated statement of the view gives rise to high expectations. They are not disappointed by this book that meets Pettit's customary high standards of scholarship, rigor, and clarity in the statement of his position. It is a wide-ranging, provocative, and often original development of a republican theory of democratic governance. For the political republican, citizens governed by a legitimate state are not coerced by its laws; on the contrary, a regime of just law is liberty enabling. In this book, a successor to his pioneering Republicanism: A Theory of Freedom and Government (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997), Pettit develops a theory of democracy that tries to substantiate this claim by explaining the legitimacy of law via an account of democratic governance. A regime of law is not dominating if it is subject to democratic control "equally shared" by all citizens and thereby empowering them; the connection between republican liberty and democratic governance is noncontingent. This republicanmode of democratic governance is "distinctive" and involves a "rich array of popular controls," and-contra Schumpeter-nothing less than popular control over government will suffice (22–23). Qua republican theory, a particular kind of institutional design implements this ideal: the republican tradition is committed to both a "mixed constitution" with equal and separate political power and a "mixed order" that disperses control. The citizenmust have the civic virtue to surveil and contest policy in order to provide accountability: Pettit's model of institutional design implements this "dual process" of short-term "popular influence" and long-term "popular direction" that together constitute his "dual aspect" model of democratic governance. The two questions that naturally arise are whether the book marks any kind of change from his earlier views (as represented by Republicanism) and whether Pettit responds here to any of the criticisms to which his work has been subject. The two answers, briefly, are these: first, there are only terminological departures from the earlier work-this later book represents, rather, an extension of Pettit's view into a complete theory of democratic governance. Second, Pettit does respond to three of the major lines of concern about his earlier work. He says the least, and I follow him in this, in responding to, first, a generic criticism of his republican view of liberty as a modally robust value: freedom of choice as the absence of domination. His response to his critics on this point is brief and mostly consists in clarification and restatement of his earlier views. As I am far more sympathetic to those views than his critics, I will not focus on them. 302 Ethics October