âMistrust all in whom the impulse to punish is powerful.â
F. Nietzsche, The Genealogy of Morals
Introduction
Despite the ongoing debate surrounding âthe goal of the criminal justice systemâ, it might well be that there is no such thing as the goal. Punishment, it is said, does not have a purpose over and beyond those that people set for it (Canton, 2017); a politician will interpret the goal of punishment differently from a lawyer, a social worker, and so on. And yet there is also a sense in which our penal policies are meant to achieve a certain goal, an elusive âidealâ of justice which grounds the institution of punishment. What is that ideal, and how can we assess whether our penal policies conform to it?
A popular answer to the question âWhat is justice?â refers to the notion of giving offenders their due. We think that âjustice is doneâ when the murderer is sent to jail for his horrible crime; on the other hand, we lament the injustice of a person punished for a crime she has not committed, of a guilty offender who goes unpunished or, on the other hand, who is punished disproportionately (either too little or too much). However, as I discuss in more detail below, this general belief is often coupled with the view that the goal of punishment is crime reduction; deterrence plays a major role in the philosophy of punishment, but if we were to strictly adhere to it, then punishing innocent people, or punishing disproportionately, may be acceptable, should they be effective strategies to reduce future offending. Thus, our understanding of justice should keep its focus on a retributive standard, whereby the offender is made to suffer (through the legal punishment) not in virtue of what will occur (crime reduction) but of what did occur: the guilty is to be punished, in proportion to his crime, for he deserves it.
The view that the guilty deserves to suffer (henceforth, âretributive emotionâ) is not a mere slogan: it is a constitutive element of the way humans relate to each other in most parts of the world. It gives substance to the idea of reciprocity expressed by the âGolden Ruleâ (âDo as you would be done byâ) â a rule shared by Christianity, Confucianism and âalmost every ethical traditionâ (Blackburn, 2003, p. 101). We employ this rule when we explain to children why they are being punished; it is this idea of reciprocity that grounds our relief when, at the end of a movie or play, the âevilâ character is banished, while the âgoodâ ones live happily ever after. Some argue that the retributive emotion is a product of evolution, a necessary attitude for individual survival and social cooperation (Mackie, 1982).
The role played by populism and the media in exploiting and exacerbating peopleâs punitive attitudes has been widely researched since Stan Cohenâs seminal work on the topic (Cohen, 2002). In what follows, I focus on the tension between an unrestrained retributive emotion, on the one hand, and a commitment to the principles grounding the criminal justice system, on the other. I begin by identifying these principles, chief among which is the focus on treating the offender as an autonomous agent. I then consider one influential account of punishment â namely, Antony Duffâs communicative theory, which contends the offender is to be addressed as a subject, who plays an active role in his own punishment. Then I analyse the retributive emotion in contemporary capitalist societies, highlighting its tendency to treat offenders as mere objects. In the concluding section, I sketch some policy changes deemed necessary to realign our penal practices to the principles of a just society.
The offender as subject
Behind the stereotypical portrait of Lady Justice, blind to any difference between those brought to her judgment, lies the belief that citizens are, in some morally relevant sense, equal. Matters of race, religion, gender and so on are not to affect Justiceâs decisions concerning what an offender deserves. But in what sense are citizens âequalâ, and why does Justice so scrupulously respect it? Article 1 of the Universal Declaration of Human rights states that humans are equal âin dignity and rightsâ, in virtue of their being âendowed with reason and conscienceâ.1 These concepts, albeit still vague, are often grouped under the label of autonomy, a (still vague) label loosely referring to a personâs capacity for self-determination. Autonomous agents are capable of giving directions to their lives, of âtaking up commitments from a wide range of eligible alternatives, and making something out of their lives according to their own understanding of what is valuable and worth doingâ (Wall, 1998, p. 128). Through the act of choosing, autonomous agents reveal the âcapacity to create valueâ (Raz, 2001), by adopting certain commitments over others, and this capacity is intrinsically valuable (Moraro, 2014). It is some form of this (admittedly contested) notion of dignity that grounds the conception of justice mentioned at the start: a just society formally treats its members as autonomous agents. This means, furthermore, that citizens ought to be treated also as responsible agentsâ that is, as individuals who can be held accountable for their own conduct. While, as I show below, there are various conceptions of responsibility, here I focus on âresponse-abilityâ, the capacity to respond for oneâs own conduct â for example, by addressing the accusations raised by others, either offering a justificatory explanation or admitting oneâs own wrongdoing (Bacon, 1990). A responsible agent is the legitimate target of âreactive attitudesâ, such as resentment or gratitude, which are appropriate only when the agent acted in a fully responsible way (Strawson, 1962). Thus, if an âexcuseâ (e.g. insanity) may be appropriate to the case of an insane actor, a guilty sentence may be appropriate to that of a fully autonomous agent; that is to say, the imposition of punishment, while aiming to curtail the offenderâs freedom, may nonetheless be constitutive of an approach that treats the offender as equal to the other human beings â that is, with respect for his status as an autonomous (hence responsible) agent.2
There is something inherently odd in claiming that a person is being ârespectedâ by being locked up in prison; more specifically, how are we to make sense of the obscure notion of a âright to be punishedâ (Deigh, 1984)? If rights ground claims to certain goods, may an offender have a claim to be imprisoned? Should he, or society at large, complain that his rights are being violated if he is left unpunished despite his wrongdoing? In the next section, I address these questions by reference to Antony Duffâs communicative theory of punishment.
Punishment as communication
The so-called communicative theory of punishment, championed, among others, by Antony Duff, sets out to highlight the dangers of adopting a purely deterrence-based account of punishment (Duff, 2001). Duff stresses that positing deterrence as the goal of punishment fails to treat offenders with due respect; for if the law is to treat citizens as responsible agents, as members of a community founded on the liberal value of individual autonomy, its aim cannot be to simply force them to comply with its directives. The latter would amount to treating offenders merely as means towards the end of crime reduction, which is why, in principle, deterrence theory may allow for disproportionate sentences, or even for punishing the innocent. Similar concerns are faced by âexpressiveâ views Ă la Durkheim, according to which punishment constitutes a form of ritual through which the community cleanses itself from the stains of the offenderâs conduct; once again, the offenderâs own suffering through punishment is just the means to achieve that result. Talking of the offender as âa mere meansâ in the criminalisation process implies that he is treated as an âobjectâ that others can use to foster other goals. The offender is dehumanised, his dignity (as an autonomous agent) sacrificed for the interests of other agents.
Hence, Duff distinguishes âcommunicationâ from âexpressionâ: only the former requires an âaudienceâ who can acknowledge the speakerâs message. I may express my anger at social injustice by screaming in my car, with no one hearing me, but I could not communicate that feeling without a hearer. In a communicative process, the speaker seeks to engage the hearer âas an active participantâ, as one who is able to understand and who âwill receive and respond to the communicationâ. A communicative process requires âa reciprocal and rational engagementâ between the speaker and the hearer, who approach each other as agents able to be persuaded through rational argument (2001, pp. 79â80). As already mentioned, the concept of retributive justice hinges on the idea of giving offenders their due: the latter deserve to be blamed, hence punished, because of what they did. Yet âblamingâ is an inherently interactive process. âBlamingâ, for Duff, is not something that we do to an individual (e.g. to force him to change his behaviour); blaming someone is something that we do with the blamed person, with the aim to engage him in a moral argument. It requires articulating to that person why we deem his conduct blameworthy, but in doing this, we also call him to respond to our charges. Such a response could involve an admission of guilt and acceptance of our criticism, or it may imply a denial of the charge and a defence of his own conduct:
I may try to show him that his conduct was at odds with moral values which he himself accepts; or to persuade him of the significance and relevance of values by which he was previously unmoved. If he comes to accept my judgment on his past conduct, he must also agree that he should act differently in the future, if the occasion arises. Thus, in persuading him to accept my criticism of his past conduct I also persuade him to modify his future conduct.
(Duff, 1986, p. 48)
In blaming others, we treat them as individuals who can be persuaded, through rational argument, of the reason why they are being blamed. It is part and parcel of the exchange between the one who blames and the one who is blamed; the former seeks to bring the latter to acknowledge his wrongdoing, to accept the blame and to change his conduct. If the blamed person changed his conduct merely out of prudential considerations â that is, to avoid the punishment â our blaming him would have failed. On the other hand, if we did not manage to persuade him to change his conduct, while making him respond seriously to our blaming, we would have reached significant success:
Suppose [âŚ] that I fail to change his beliefs, attitudes or conduct: he listens and responds to my criticisms, but remains unpersuaded. [âŚ] My criticism has now failed to achieve its proper aim of persuading him to accept it, as well as the pragmatic aim of modifying his conduct. But if he responds to it seriously, it...