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Cover -- Half Title -- Title Page -- Copyright Page -- Table of Contents -- List of Tables and Figures -- Preface and Acknowledgments -- 1 Introduction: Minimizing Harm as a Solution to the Crime Policy Conundrum -- 2 Public Attitudes Toward Crime: Is American Violence a Crime Problem? -- Comment: When and for Whom Is Violence a Crime Problem? -- Comment: Crime, Violence, and Public Mythology -- 3 Prevention: The Cost-Effectiveness of Early Intervention as a Strategy for Reducing Violent Crime -- Comment: Early Intervention: Promising Path to Cost-Effective Crime Control, or Primrose Path to Wasteful Social Spending? -- Comment: Can We Afford to Prevent Violence? Can We Afford Not To? -- 4 Alternative Sanctions: Diverting Nonviolent Prisoners to Intermediate Sanctions: The Impact on Prison Admissions and Corrections Costs -- Comment: Net Repairing: Rethinking Incarceration and Intermediate Sanctions -- Comment: Intermediate Punishments -- 5 Drug Policy: Drug Enforcement, Violent Crime, and the Minimization of Harm -- Comment: The Ambiguities of Harm Reduction in Crime and Drug Policy -- Comment: Breaking the Impasse in American Drug Policy -- About the Editor and Contributors

As its title suggests, Why the Innocent Plead Guilty and the Guilty Go Free is a wide-ranging critique of our criminal justice system. While it is hardly the first, it offers a number of distinctive insights. Most of the now voluminous work on this topic is written by scholars, policy analysts, or journalists and is addressed to the legislature or the executive. This certainly makes sense. External observers are well positioned to critique a system that punishes without purpose, and the major determinants of its dysfunction are the legislature that enacts the criminal law and the executive that enforces it. In contrast, the author of this book, Jed S. Rakoff, is a sitting federal judge, and he provides a specifically judicial perspective. This appears in at least two of the book's most notable features: its juxtaposition of its subject matter and its discussion of the way that general trends in our criminal law impact the work of judges.

This article proposes a different rationale for corporate democracy, one that extends more broadly to all forms of employment. It is based on an equivalence, not an analogy. The equivalence is that subordination feels essentially the same to an individual whether a public or a private entity is carrying it out. As recognized in the public arena, it undermines people's dignity and autonomy, and at least threatens—and often produces—actual oppression. Based on this equivalence, this article proposes a different argument for corporate democracy. Proponents of democracy in the public sphere believe that the citizens of a nation should control its government. For the same reason, it can be argued that those who work for a living should control the institutions for which they work. Thus, the norms of democracy, when translated into the economic realm, yield the principle that no person should work for their livelihood on terms established by another person. This can be called the principle of popular economic sovereignty. The operational argument that can instantiate this assertion of equivalence between the state and the corporation is etiological. Both institutions, in their modern form, developed from Medieval corporativist thought. They are conceived as juridical persons, entities that are capable of independent action. As such, they have an equivalent capacity to dominate and oppress the individuals that they control. The way to provide these individuals with a sense of autonomy and protect them from oppression is to constitute them as a separate juridical entity that is authorized to control the state or the corporation, either directly or—in cases where the state or corporation is large—through chosen representatives.

Now that the Japanese economic miracle has soured into the Japanese economic meltdown, scholars are confronted with a new challenge: instead of trying to penetrate the secret of Japan's successes, they must try to unravel the enigma of its misfortunes. Professors Curtis Milhaupt and Geoffrey Miller (1997) have performed a great service in documenting one of the most dramatic of those misfortunes – the collapse of the jusen companies. Professor Shinsaku Iwahara (1997) has also performed an equally valuable service by placing this event in the larger context of Japanese politics and society. But despite its record setting scale, the jusen problem was not unprecedented; Japan merely followed in the footsteps of its economic mentor, the United States, which experienced a very similar financial meltdown about a decade earlier. This commentary briefly describes that event – the U.S. savings and loan crisis – and then draws some tentative conclusions on the basis of a comparison of the two events.

Writing a treatise on constitutional law is both necessary and impossible. It is necessary because constitutional law, at least in the United States, is a common law subject. To be sure, it possesses a positive law basis, but that basis is very thin and the decisional law that has flowed from it is luxuriant and complex. Treatises organize and summarize bodies of decisional law, creating a coherent structure from the welter of incremental decisions, overlapping doctrines, and particularized holdings and dicta. Yet it is impossible to write a treatise about constitutional law. All treatises depend, for their effectiveness, upon a trick or, to put the matter only a bit more politely, a conceit. This conceit is that the mass of cases, decided by different courts at different periods of time reflect universal, timeless principles that underlie and animate the subject matter. One hundred years ago this conceit was a theory; indeed, it was a theory that identified itself as science, although it subsequently became known as formalism. No one believes in formalism anymore; we recognize that law is the creation of particular decisionmakers, whether legislative or judicial, that law changes over time, and that those changes tend to reflect the prevailing attitudes of the era that produces them. Virtually all political scientists and many legal scholars associated with the legal realist or critical legal studies movement believe that there is nothing other than these changing attitudes. Most legal scholars, however, agree that doctrine possesses some reality, that it constitutes a specialized body of knowledge that interacts with changing attitudes. Erwin Chemerinsky's Constitutional Law: Principles and Policies continues the necessary task of writing treatises on constitutional law. But it also comes surprisingly close to achieving the impossible. Chemerinsky adopts an intermediate position between formalism and legal realism; he treats constitutional law as something that changes in response to changing political ...

This book argues that many of the basic concepts that we use to describe and analyze our governmental system are out of date. Developed in large part during the Middle Ages, they fail to confront the administrative character of modern government.These concepts, which include power, discretion, democracy, legitimacy, law, rights, and property, bear the indelible imprint of this bygone era's attitudes, and Arthurian fantasies, about governance. As a result, they fail to provide us with the tools we need to understand, critique, and improve the government we actually possess.Beyond Camelot explains the causes and character of this failure, and then proposes a new conceptual framework, drawn from management science and engineering, which describes our administrative government more accurately, and identifies its weaknesses instead of merely bemoaning its modernity.This book's proposed framework envisions government as a network of connected units that are authorized by superior units and that supervise subordinate ones. Instead of using inherited, emotion-laden concepts like democracy and legitimacy to describe the relationship between these units and private citizens, it directs attention to the particular interactions between these units and the citizenry, and to the mechanisms by which government obtains its citizens' compliance. Instead of speaking about law and legal rights, it proposes that we address the way that the modern state formulates policy and secures its implementation. Instead of perpetuating outdated ideas that we no longer really believe about the sanctity of private property, it suggests that we focus on the way that resources are allocated in order to establish markets as our means of regulation. Highly readable, Beyond Camelot offers an insightful and provocative discussion of how we must transform our understanding of

"Morality is not declining in the modern world. Instead, a new morality is replacing the previous one. Centered on individual self-fulfillment, and linked to administrative government, it permits things the old morality forbid, like sex for pleasure, but forbids things the old morality allowed, like intolerance and equality of opportunity"--

"Political and social commentators regularly bemoan the decline of morality in the modern world. They claim that the norms and values that held society together in the past are rapidly eroding, to be replaced by permissiveness and empty hedonism. But as Edward Rubin demonstrates in this powerful account of moral transformations, these prophets of doom are missing the point. Morality is not diminishing; instead, a new morality, centered on an ethos of human self-fulfillment, is arising to replace the old one. As Rubin explains, changes in morality have gone hand in hand with changes in the prevailing mode of governance throughout the course of Western history. During the Early Middle Ages, a moral system based on honor gradually developed. In a dangerous world where state power was declining, people relied on bonds of personal loyalty that were secured by generosity to their followers and violence against their enemies. That moral order, exemplified in the early feudal system and in sagas like The Song of Roland, The Song of the Cid, and the Arthurian legends has faded, but its remnants exist today in criminal organizations like the Mafia and in the rap music of the urban ghettos. When state power began to revive in the High Middle Ages through the efforts of the European monarchies, and Christianity became more institutionally effective and more spiritually intense, a new morality emerged. Described by Rubin as the morality of higher purposes, it demanded that people devote their personal efforts to achieving salvation and their social efforts to serving the emerging nation-states. It insisted on social hierarchy, confined women to subordinate roles, restricted sex to procreation, centered child-rearing on moral inculcation, and countenanced slavery and the marriage of pre-teenage girls to older men. Our modern era, which began in the late 18th century, has seen the gradual erosion of this morality of higher purposes and the rise of a new morality of self-fulfillment, one that encourages individuals to pursue the most meaningful and rewarding life-path. Far from being permissive or a moral abdication, it demands that people respect each other's choices, that sex be mutually enjoyable, that public positions be allocated according to merit, and that society provide all its members with their minimum needs so that they have the opportunity to fulfill themselves. Where people once served the state, the state now functions to serve the people. The clash between this ascending morality and the declining morality of higher purposes is the primary driver of contemporary political and cultural conflict. A sweeping, big-idea book in the vein of Francis Fukuyama's The End of History, Charles Taylor's The Secular Age, and Richard Sennett's The Fall of Public Man, Edward Rubin's new volume promises to reshape our understanding of morality, its relationship to government, and its role in shaping the emerging world of High Modernity"--

During the coming decades, the digital revolution that has transformed so much of our world will transform legal education as well. The digital production and distribution of course materials will powerfully affect both the content and the way materials are used in the classroom and library. This collection of essays by leading legal scholars in various fields explores three aspects of this coming transformation. The first set of essays discusses the way digital materials will be created and how they will change concepts of authorship as well as methods of production and distribution. The second set explores the impact of digital materials on law school classrooms and law libraries and the third set considers the potential transformation of the curriculum that the materials are likely to produce. Taken together, these essays provide a guide to momentous changes that every legal teacher and scholar needs to understand

This book argues that many of the basic concepts that we use to describe and analyze our governmental system are out of date. Developed in large part during the Middle Ages, they fail to confront the administrative character of modern government. These concepts, which include power, discretion, democracy, legitimacy, law, rights, and property, bear the indelible imprint of this bygone era's attitudes, and Arthurian fantasies, about governance. As a result, they fail to provide us with the tools we need to understand, critique, and improve the government we actually possess. Beyond Camelot expl.