Criminal law theorists overwhelmingly agree that for some conduct to constitute punishment, it must be imposed intentionally. Some retributivists have argued that because punishment consists only of intentional inflictions, theories of punishment can ignore the merely foreseen hardships of prison, such as the mental and emotional distress inmates experience. Though such distress is foreseen, it is not intended, and so it is technically not punishment. In this essay, I explain why theories of punishment must pay close attention to the unintentional (...) burdens of punishment. In two very important contexts — punishment measurement and justification — we use the term “punishment” to capture not only intentional harsh treatment but certain unintentional harsh treatment as well. This means that the widely accepted view that punishment is an intentional infliction requires substantial caveats. It also means that any purported justification of punishment that addresses only the intentional infliction of punishment is woefully incomplete. -/- [This paper has been published under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike license.]. (shrink)

Emerging technologies raise the possibility that we may be able to treat trauma victims by pharmaceutically dampening factual or emotional aspects of their memories. Such technologies raise a panoply of legal and ethical issues. While many of these issues remain off in the distance, some have already arisen. In this brief commentary, I discuss a real-life case of memory erasure. The case reveals why the contours of our freedom of memory—our limited bundle of rights to control our memories and be (...) free of outside control—already merit some attention. (shrink)

We like to think we own our memories: if technology someday enables us to alter our memories, we should have certain rights to do so. But our freedom of memory has limits. Some memories are simply too valuable to society to allow individuals the unfettered right to change them. Suppose a patient regains consciousness in the middle of surgery. While traumatized by the experience and incapable of speaking, he coincidentally overhears two surgeons make plans to set fire to the hospital. (...) Assuming there is no way to erase his traumatic memories of intraoperative awareness and still prosecute the surgeons, a patient may well have a moral duty to retain the memories for the greater good. And if the patient has such a moral duty, I argue in this brief comment, then the state plausibly has the right to limit our abilities to erase memories when necessary to protect public safety or prosecute offenders. (shrink)

Theorists treat liberty as a great equalizer. We can’t easily distribute equal welfare, but we can purport to distribute equal liberty. In fact, however, nothing about “equal liberty” is meaningfully equal. To demonstrate, I turn not to familiar cases of distributing positive goods but to the distribution of a negative good, namely carceral punishment. Many theorists believe we should impose proportional punishment by depriving offenders of liberty in proportion to their blameworthiness. In this manner, equally blameworthy offenders are said to (...) receive equal punishment when incarcerated for the same period of time. Equal periods of incarceration do not yield equal punishments, however, because liberty cannot serve as the great equalizer theorists hope for. Pretending it can prevents us from justifying the full harms of punishment or leads to such counterintuitive results that it makes proportional punishment an unattractive goal. (shrink)

The law inevitably draws lines. These lines distinguish, for example, whether certain conduct reflects ordinary recklessness constituting manslaughter or more extreme recklessness constituting murder. There is no way to meaningfully draw such lines, however, absent shared ways of representing amounts of recklessness or at least knowledge of the consequences of drawing lines in particular places. Yet legal actors frequently draw lines in the dark, establishing cutoffs along a spectrum with little or none of the information required to do so in (...) a way that suits the law’s goals. For example, jurors must decide whether some conduct constitutes extreme recklessness without knowing prior precedent nor the sentencing consequences of drawing cutoffs in particular places. Judges and lawyers cite line drawing precedents from other jurisdictions without considering whether the lines drawn in prior cases had the same consequences as those in the case at bar. And scholars argue about how to classify conduct without making clear what consequences they believe ought to attach once the classification is made, leaving it hard to tell when scholars have substantive or simply superficial disagreements. In this Article, I discuss some line drawing problems and briefly suggest ways we can add meaning to cutoffs. More generally, I argue, we can “smooth” certain features of the law to both reduce our vulnerability to line drawing in the dark and improve the fit between the law and what our best theories of law recommend. Even when we cannot easily smooth the law, thinking about the law in a smoother fashion can help reduce the jurisprudential pathologies I describe. (shrink)