Martha Craven Nussbaum’s capabilities approach is a theory of social justice: a society is just, only if it succeeds in developing and eventually fulfilling some capabilities (or “what […] each person [in this society is] able to do or to be”) equally to each one of its societal members to certain levels (in Nussbaum’s words, “thresholds”) (18).

Nussbaum differentiate different kinds of capabilities: before birth, infants possess basic capabilities, or “innate powers or faculties” that make their later cultivations possible (23 and 24); if properly cultivated, these basic capabilities then develop into internal capabilities (21). Also, there has to be certain social, political and economic conditions, without which the functioning of these internal capabilities is impossible. For example, if a society trains its members of their critical thinking capability, but does not allow them to actually think critically about their social and political situations, this capability is still not fulfilled.

In this theory, the capabilities used to determine a just society  are combined capabilities, i.e. the combination of internal capabilities and the social, political and economic conditions that allow them to function properly (Nussbaum 22). Nussbaum exemplifies ten combined capabilities, such as life, bodily health and bodily integrity (32-34).

In this theory, social justice is failed, if a society fails to equally develop internal capabilities of each one of its members to certain thresholds, if a society forces its members to function their internal capabilities, and if a society fails to provide the social, political and economic conditions that allow those internal capabilities to function properly

In China, to allow students to attend school near to their residences, students who live near a school are granted priority to attend the school, which gives rise to a boom for the so-called “school-district estates”. Rich families buy these estates so that they can send their children to their desired schools. As a result, many outstanding students from poor families have to cede their deserved seats in good schools to less competitive students from rich families (see for example: 72-80 Wen et al.).

Applying capabilities approach, this is obviously a failure of social justice: Chinese society fails to provide the fair social condition that allows the internal academic capability of those students from poor families to function properly in good schools. To rectify this injustice, schools must inspect whether the students have actually been living in their proximity, or whether their families have bought “school-district estates” expediently.

While this theory successfully illustrate the injustice in the case of Chinese “school-district estates”, I still argue that capabilities approach is an incomplete theory of social justice, because it does not sufficiently elaborate on how to select combined capabilities, which challenges the demonstration of injustice in cases more ambiguous than the one above. However, I do not reject the justness of Nussbaum’s ten capabilities. My focus is on the obscurity of the methods in which Nussbaum selects them. While Nussbaum does not explicate her methods (17-45), in the following, I list all the possible methods extracted from her text and attempt to show that none of them justify the selection of combined capabilities.

Nussbaum repetitively stresses that capabilities are generated from the respect of “inherent and equal (31) human dignity (26)” in relation to “active striving” and “freedom” (31)  and “living conditions worthy of it” (29). However, there is no consensus of the meanings of the quoted abstract terms, nor does Nussbaum ever explain their meanings anywhere in her text (17-45). Without such explanations, there is no way to tell how to select combined capabilities, because people interpret those terms sometimes drastically different from each other. Thus seen, a conglomerate of abstract terms that bear no consensus of their meanings does not justify the selection of combined capabilities in this theory.

Nussbaum claims that “[s]ometimes it is clear that a given capability is central [because] the world has come to a consensus” (32). However, this is a naturalistic fallacy: just because something has come to a consensus does not mean that it should come to a consensus. Hence, universal consensus also does not automatically justify the selection of combined capabilities. Indeed, capabilities approach should have explained why some combined capabilities should or have come to a worldly consensus.

Where cases are less “clear”, Nussbaum urges for debates:

…[T]he debate must take place, and each must make arguments attempting to show that a given liberty is implicated in the idea of human dignity. This cannot be done by vague intuitive appeals to the idea of dignity all by itself [but] by discussing the relationship of the putative entitlement to other existing entitlements…showing, for example, the relationship of bodily integrity… (32)

As explained earlier, since there is no consensus of the meaning of “human dignity”, nor does Nussbaum explains it anywhere in her text (17-45), the debaters have to “intuitively appeal to their ideas of dignity all by themselves”. Also, Nussbaum also asks them to bear in mind other “existing entitlements”. These “existing entitlements” cannot be people’s existing preferences, because Nussbaum claims that “…the approach does not derive value from people’s existing preferences” (32). Therefore, they must be her “existing entitlements”, which is exemplified by one of her selected capability (in the list of ten), bodily integrity. In other words, she asks the debaters to debate in light of what is supposed to be the results of the debate.

Ultimately, if this theory of social justice is to debate about what is socially just, it is questionable whether there is indeed a theory, because a theory of social justice is supposed to take a stance in this debate, rather than simply gesturing that somehow the debate itself is its solution. The same wonder is applicable to the fact that Nussbaum permits political processes (27) and constitutional laws (40) to decide how to select combined capabilities when “…situations are not so grave…” (27) and “…freedom is not that central…” (31-32), because a theory of social justice is also supposed to evaluate the justness of political processes and constitutional laws, rather than assuming these two in themselves manifest social justice by default. Thereby, none of the above justifies the selection of combined capabilities.

Nussbaum’s capabilities approach is an incomplete theory of social justice: a society is just, if it manages to unbiasedly cultivate the combined capabilities (the compound of internal capabilities and their social, political and economic conditions that allow them to function properly) of each of its members. This theory is able to clearly identify the injustice of Chinese “school-district estates”. However, since this theory does not specify its methods of selecting combined capabilities (therefore, incomplete), its potent to efficiently point out injustice may be challenged in more ambiguous cases. Extracted from Nussbaum’s text, I list a few possible candidates of her methods (although it is unclear whether Nussbaum actually adopts them for her ten capabilities), namely universal consensuses, debates, political processes and constitutional laws and clarify the reasons why none of them justifies the selection of combined capabilities. To rectify its incompleteness, this theory has to come up with legitimate methods of selecting combined capabilities.

Work Cited

Nussbaum, Martha Craven. “Chapter Two: The Central Capabilities”. Creating Capabilities, the Human Development Approach, Published By Harvard University Press, July, 2011, pp. 17-45, https://www.degruyter.com/view/books/harvard.9780674061200/harvard.9780674061200.c2/harvard.9780674061200.c2.xml

Wen, Haizhen, et al.. “School district, Education Quality, and Housing Price: Evidence From a Natural Experiment In Hangzhou, China”. Cities, Volume 66, June 2017, pp. 72-80, https://reader.elsevier.com/reader/sd/pii/S0264275116306977?token=5CC419013FE489C34E6160087F3D19B43C93D662CCF53D10E85F0415F375F1A8C2077505604750546A2A1F52C847BC2A

The film Cleo from Five to Seven focuses on the feministic transformation of female protagonist Cleo (Corinne Marchand) after experiencing a series of plots. Scholar Janice Mouton of Women’s Studies refers to as “…the protagonist’s transformation from feminine masquerade to flaneuse (street roamer) (3)”. In this essay, the mise-en-scene of three chosen scenes will be analysed in order to unravel how this essential cinematic element is applied to demonstrate and interpret such transformation. Notably, the director (Agnes Varda) is an activist of ongoing (of that time) Left Bank Group cinematic movement whose gist idea is to narrate the story in an aesthetic and “literary” manner despite the expectations of film stereotypes. In Mouton’s paper, she notes that Marchand coined the term cinecriture (“Cinematic Writing”) to describe her interpretation of aesthetic and “literary” story narrating that encompasses “sound and visual emotion (11)”. Thereby, this essay also looks into how mise-en-scene in this film presents such gist idea.

The film begins with Cleo conversing with the tarot reader, which makes her aware that her ailment may be death threatening. The following scene is a long take (despite the inevitable cut) from the moment Cleo exited the room until she reaches to the corridor. When Cleo is stepping on the stairs, he director chose not to film her by following her on the stairs. Instead, she places the camera steady from above. Therefore, Cleo is gradually getting smaller in the shot, and the handrail starts to block and fragment her figure. Connecting to the “visual emotion” of cinecriture, the devised blocking gives a sense of being powerless and lack of dominance. As she was approaching the staircase, an intercut frame shows square-shaped windows outside the window, from which she peers through. This shot comprised of fragmented shapes of square may also signal Cleo’s alarming inner thoughts of possible lethal illness.

In her paper, Mouton discusses about “…her feminine masquerade—assures her that she is healthy and alive, and wards off her anxiety about being fragmented…and her dread of annihilation and nothingness”. Women’s sensitivity of fragmentation is one focus of the film, and Merchand believes in delivering such message through cinecriture. Unlike literary works whose characters’ contemplation can be clearly stated on paper, these thoughts required to be presented audibly (internal diegetic sound, beside this essay) and visibly (mise-en-scene, the focus of this essay) in films. This “show-not-tell” pattern emerge right from the first few scenes. The handrail that fragments Cleo’s figure and fragmented shot of windows may subtly refer to the fragmentation of Cleo.

The pattern is reassured in the scene that follows. Cleo’s figure is again blocked and fragmented by the stair handrail. As she continued walking downstairs, rather brusquely and bewilderingly, the camera films a blank shot with only the fractured wall. Fracture and fragmentation serves similar purpose since they both touch ground on breaking the “wholeness (Mouton, 5)”. After reaching the first floor, she walked to a mirror and looked into it. There are two mirrors facing each other so that her image(s) duplicates each other in infinite layers. This scene is crucial to the film, as Mouton interprets “…[In that moment,] [s]he becomes the women she is not—a fantasy, a fetishised object, someone to be looked at…(4)”, which is one way to interpret it. However, considering the consistency of depicting fragmentation, this scene can also be seen as a woman rejecting the horrifying fact (potential acute sickness) by submerging herself into her beauty that still remains while the duplicative effect suggests her subconscious disturbance.

With this steady scene, the Cleo’s costume and appearance are also given a feature. She certainly put great effort on managing how she looks. She is wearing a dotty dress with a waistband even just to visit a fortuneteller, which contrasts greatly to the other women waiting in line. And her powder on face, thick cosmetics-applied eyebrow and lip slightly shimmers in the following close-up shot. These efforts of sustaining her beauty agree with Mouton’s interpretation that before her transformation, she embodies a “fetishised object (4)” that “masquerade[s] (3)” her true self. In other words, she values more of what people think of her rather than how she thinks of herself, and is insistent in keeping her beautified (or, “masqueraded” in Mouton’s words) image. Plus, this embodiment also foreshadows the incoming transformation symbolised by the change of costume.

After playfully lingering on the streets for some time, Cleo returned her home where the transformation is about to take place. Before analysing the transformation, Cleo’s room also shares some values of interpretation. Film Studies scholar Jon Lewis states in his book Essential Cinema that “…the set affects how the actors behave because it defines the space within which they operate.”The room is spacious and elegant with a cat, light-coloured walls, several carpets on the floors, wooden chairs and a dresser, a pair of pengzai flora, a piano, an indoor rocking chair, and a palace-like queen-size bed. The room does not look like a place of household but a palace of royal members where everything is deliberately placed. Mouton reflects the elaborated room set to a place where Cleo could “perform [her] invented persona (6)” However, like the commodities she encountered on the streets, “…they are simply objects on display—beautiful but devoid of a life or meaning on their own. (Mouton, 6)” Seemingly, she devises the room not to please herself but to display her masqueraded wellbeing to others in her life, while her words and inner reflection always suggests otherwise. Varda masters in creating discordance between Cleo’s harmonious living conditions as suggested by the mise-en-scenes and her constant state of worrying presented through her words, internal reflections, and facial expressions.

In such a room setting, the transformative moment takes place when she starts to try out a new sad-themed song just arrived with her fellow musicians. As she is singing the song, the camera draws to her closer and closer excluding all the other objects of the room such as the people and the piano but her own figure. The shot pauses at a close-up level to her face whose background is pure black curtain without anything else in it. Apparently, she stands in front of the black curtain, and pure black background is what naturally will be shown when placing the camera too close to Cleo. Meanwhile, this could also be interpreted meaningfully. This is the moment when she starts to look into herself regardless of what is surrounding her. By doing that, she realised her not being paid attention, or in Mouton’s word, simply “fetishised (4)” by people around her. She descends to a pure state of loneliness. However, this internal transformation cannot be presented directly by cinematic mythologies. Therefore, Varda applies the black curtain and individualise Cleo by placing her in a pure black background. Plus, black is also a colour of negativity that may appeal to her lonely feeling at the moment.

Suddenly, Cleo no longer resisted her feelings and stopped singing. She starts to yell at people unprecedentedly. Notably, from this moment on, Varda starts to apply more medium shots, in which Cleo regains some power and dominance. When she quarrels with the other two musicians, her size in the frame is about the same as the others. And the slowly-moving camera is replaced by a simultaneous track of Cleo’s quick treading inside the room, leaving no space to focus on the objects but the Cleo’s irritated figure. Then, she enters the black curtain to change her clothes, and the frame included only a black blankness again until she draws the curtain after changing. Applying the idea of cinecriture, two times of applying pure black may indicate the entering to and withdrawing from her negative feelings.

She changed her cloth to a black dress. If white and other light colours adore people, this choice of black may manifest a rejection to such adoring. This is her declaration of transforming. Mouton echoes this declaration by claiming, “She signals the difference visually by tearing off her wig and feathered robe and donning a simple black dress. (6 and 7)” This black dress could also be rebellious since it is the exact opposite of what people would expect from her. Almost deceptively, Varda presented her wig as if it is her real hair before she pulls it off. However, this deception adds another layer of de-masquerading by pulling off something artificial. The following scene contains two bars that block the vision of the whole room. Notably, when her maid tries to pursue her, they both never stand in the same crack divided by the bars. Inspired by Lewis’ teaching that “…while the goal may be realism, blocking is seldom improvised or inadvertent”, this visual design may suggest that after the transformation, Cleo is determined to free from what shackles her previously and stand on her own identity.

Before she decided to head out on her own, she paused around her necklace collection and quickly draws the one she favors. This quick decision differentiates greatly from her time-consuming shopping in the store before the transformation. She no longer concentrates on what may please people but on what she desires the most for herself. For the mise-en-scene, her figure takes about the same portion as her necklace collection, unlike in the store where her figure is submerged by the “fetishised commodities (Mouton, 5 and 6)”. All of these new behaviors consist of the comprehensive process of her transformation. The mise-en-scene style is also to be adjusted by Varda in following sections of the film.

Shortly after leaving her home, she enters a café full of various customers. Varda applies subject point-of-view to illustrate Cleo’s visual observation to the people around. From this moment, the camera is inclusive to others instead of Cleo, inviting her to a city of diversity. However, she is still wondering what people would response to her change. Her vision pauses at the jukebox, with which she plays a piece of her own song. In this scene, Cleo is not the focus. Instead, Varda includes two other random customers in the forefront and applies their diegetic voice of talking about Algerian War. Therefore, Cleo becomes an element of the scene, which Mouton suggests, “…she becomes both an observer of the crowd and a part of it. (9)” This conflation of Cleo and the city Paris is pivotal to the film. The diversity of the city allows her to be part of it rather than pointlessly working hard to outstand herself.

After the music is played, she continues observing people. Undoubtedly, no one actually pays attention to her or her jukebox music. They simply go on with what they are doing before the music is played. Varda applies long take pausing on each person/ a group of persons and quickly transit to from one table to another, implying Cleo’s anxiety to witness people’s responses. She took a seat with a cup of Brandie to wait for any signs of response. However, people seem to overlook her being there. Finally, she is out of patience. She takes off her last “fetishised commodity (Mouton, 5 and 6)”, the pair of fancy black glasses, and put on her black cape. Cinecriture underscores that any visual change, particularly change of clothing in this film, may betoken a change of mindset. In this case, Cleo’s transformation is confirmed and reassured by her observations and immersion to the diversity of Paris.

In summary, Cleo from 5 to 7 is a Left Bank Group film that discusses about feministic transformation. Director Varda applies her own theory of cinecriture to reflect the exterior (such as changes of mise-en-scene and filming angels) and interior transformation of Cleo’s women identity. With the help of Mouton’s Women Studies, This significance of such transformation is better understood. The changes of clothing illustrate this transformation by vision while Varda makes such changes naturally inbound with the film’s ongoing plots. Most importantly (for this essay), the deliberately chosen mise-en-scenes are crucial to decipher the transformation with the unique adaptation of cinecriture.

Work Cited

Lewis, Jon. Essential Cinema: An Introduction to Film Analysis. Publisher: Michael Rosenberg, 2014.

Mouton, Janice. “From Feminine Masquerade to Flaneuse: Agnes Varda’s Cleo in the City”. Cinema Journal Vol. 40, No. 2. Published by University of Texas Press on behalf of the Society for Cinema & Media Studies, 2001: 3-16.

Since Mathew Brady embarked on his groundbreaking Civil War photojournalism in 1860s (Tomlinson 52), photojournalism was also conceived as the “depiction of reality” (Newton 64). However, in this era of digital photography, the omnipresence of digital post-production (also known as “editing”, “manipulating”, “retouching” and “enhancing” (Solaroli 513)) in photojournalism leads to “a decline of public belief in visual truth” insomuch that Media Studies scholar Karin E. Becker claims that the control of this situation is no longer merely technical but “ethical” (381). Other scholars, in great measure, attribute this issue to the increasing habitual discard of the original image files (Newton 7) and the undetectability of the processed images (Tomlinson 53). On this basis, post-production in photojournalism is set in a binary question as to whether it is “deceptive” or “quality-enhancing” (Tomlinson 59). Or, is it possible to set scalable boundaries between “legitimate” and “illegitimate” (Solaroli 519) post-production in journalism? Among an assortment of provisions attempted to limn such demarcation by various news agencies, mention is made of the “darkroom principle” which circumscribes post-production in journalism within the “practices that were allowed in analog[ue] darkrooms” and the captions that notify the manipulations of the shown images, e.g. “this photo is ‘cropped’, ‘lightened’ or ‘darkened’” (Solaroli 519). These faddish principles were nevertheless recently proven to be inadequate for the industry (Solaroli 525).

Studies of this issue are, almost without exception, situated in the underlying premise that photos in any case are needful to present certain level of reality, especially in photojournalism where the depiction of reality is highly desired. However, as Art History scholar Allan Sekula suggests, “[a]ll communication [(including photojournalism)] is, to a greater or lesser extent, tendentious” (453). Many in the field often also acknowledge, “photographs had always been something less than depiction of reality” (Keith 64). For example, in an interview, a high-ranking news editor elaborated: “[w]e’re telling people…[a piece of reality]” (Newton 8). To this end, this argument points out that photos perhaps are seldom about reality. Further, I argue that photos represent exclusively the pieces of reality that photojournalists are committed to convey to their audience. Because of the implausibility for camera to achieve the real real, I thus quotation-mark all the following word “real” so as to differentiate the “real” in the discourse of this paper from the real real.

Because the Raw image format contains the uncompressed information the camera light sensor collects, most serious photojournalists would save their photos in this format. For the same reason, many believe that Raw format file is the digitalised counterpart of film negative, or “the new ‘original’” and “the ‘digital negative’” (Solaroli 524). They mistake the Raw file as a type of image file like JPEGs. In effect, it is, in photojournalist Francesco Zizola’s words, “…a numeric record of light-generated data that are not yet elaborated” (Solaroli 523). That is to say, Raw files are not image files but files that record light-generated data, thus cannot be displayed as an image before the data are computerised, which verifies Media Studies scholar Don E. Tomlinson’s prophesy in 1992 that “…there no longer will exist a[n]…original which might be examined or provide some evidence for or against a visual image having been manipulated” (54) (Yet, this prophesy is flawed because of its presumption that image manipulation is by default undesired). Plus, different algorithms used in such computerisation could yield significantly different default-computerised images. In short, if digital photos ever represent any reality, it is decidedly a piece of “computerised reality”.

Further, by opening Raw files, the default-computerised images are generated, after the default algorithm of the opening program (e.g. Photoshop) decodes the light-generated data contained in Raw files. These default images may not be as ideal, thus compelling the photo editors to adjust them. Besides, to adjust image files such as JPEGs could risk “removing or adding” pixels (Solaroli 525) whereas to adjust the Raw file is to adjust light-generated data, therefore impossible to change pixel quantity (pixels have not yet generated, the photo editors are still adjusting light-generated data. With Photoshop, this is done in an inbuilt programme, Camera Raw) and allows photo editors to idealise the photos with easy-to-use Photoshop-alike programmes (518 Solaroli) according to their wishes. To this end, it leaves the photo editors (often prompted by those with power in newsrooms (Becker 395)) to decide whether to idealise the images means to make them more “real” or more opinionated. Even if the photo editors claim that they aim for the “real”, the processed photos may only represent their pieces of reality.

Exceptional photographers consider post-production possibilities proleptically when taking the photos. A case in point is Italian phtotgrapher Francesco Zizola’s photo of Istmine village, which Zizola “‘…consciously underexposed [the photo] in order not to lose both the double rainbow and the village, as he [knew the exposure] could [be] post-processed…” (Solaroli 523). To expatiate, Zizola understood one of the eminent camera limitations, camera tolerance: the capability to concurrently record the details of the brightest areas, aka. highlight areas, and the darkest areas, aka. shadow areas. Such capability of cameras is much weaker than that of human eyes. Therefore, while taking the photo, Zizola could see all the details from highlight areas to shadow areas, but the camera could only record so many details (comparatively way fewer than what his eyes captured). On this basis, Zizola is compelled to underexpose because to expose normally is to lose the cherished details from the highlight areas; however with underexposure, he could still “correct” the exposure with post-production without losing details of highlight areas (I quotation-mark “correct” because to be precise, correct exposure is actually non-existent. “Correct” exposures are nothing more than the desired exposures varying from different scenarios and from different photographers). After the exposure “correction”, the post-processed photo is actually more “real” (in fact, more idealised for the photographer) than the default image computerised from the Raw file. In a nutshell, to pursue the “real” in digital photography, the photographers have to understand collectively and inseparably the camera limitations that deviate photos from being “real” and the capabilities of post-production that counteracts those limitations (However, this way of seeing post-production is nothing new, as Media Studies scholars Lev Manovich and William J. Mitchell discover “[p]ost-production…h[as] been [inherently] included in the photographic practice within a variety of social spheres [over the last century]” (Solaroli 518).). This upshot also invalidates minimal post-production or the “darkroom principle”.

Notwithstanding, to achieve the utmost “real”, the spatial and temporal differences between taking the photos and making post-production should also be taken into account. Usually, photographers take photos on the spot and make post-production in another place (e.g. in their offices or at home), because on the spot, photojournalists are too busy capturing the transitory photojournalistic moments. During off-spot post-production, as the space and the split second wherein the photos are taken are no longer available, the referents for the photographers to pursue the “real” could only be their memories and their constructs of the “real”. However, as enormous cognitive plus psychological studies have shown that memories could be very tricky in terms of restoring what really happened; as well, the photographers’ constructs of the “real” cannot guarantee to be the real real. Thereby, the eventual image outcome could only be relatively “real” (compared with the default-computerised images), or at best the idealised “real” vis-à-vis the photographers’ memories and constructs of the “real”.

Given that their perception of image reality is based on how close what the images re-present resembles what their eyes could see (In this paper, I do not want to dig into philosophical discourses that deem our sensorium is unable to reveal the reality.), by no means could any image be “real”, because the limited camera tolerance comparing to our eyes is “congenital” by virtue of camera technicalities and functionalities, and this intrinsic defect is not to be overcome (at least) in the foreseeable future . Put simply, cameras thus far could only record a limited part of what our eyes could see; therefore, photos could never be really real. To alleviate this drawback, a post-production process, High Dynamic Range (HDR) is introduced which combines “a few photos of the same scene” (usually done with tripods) but with “different levels of exposure (from under- to over-exposed)” into an image with (sometimes much) stronger camera tolerance (Solaroli 525). However, had stronger camera tolerance indeed indicates getting closer to the real, the “HDRed” 2013 World Press Photo of the Year by Swedish photojournalist Paul Hansen would not have drawn so much controversy (Solaroli 526). In this case, contrary to its original intention, HDR actually makes images less “real”, or leastways less appealing to the public. This deviation from being “real” may result from multiple “layers of computerisation” that transfer a large chunk of human agency to computer algorithms. In theory, photos are more convincing when applied fewer layers of computerisation. Apart from default computerisation of the Raw file and the adjustments of the Raw file as the first two layers of computerisation, HDR which in most cases, is done with pixelated images rather than with Raw files necessitates a third layer of computerisation, thus deviating images further away from being “real”. Thus seen, the analysis of HDR sheds light on a paradox: while post-production has great capabilities to counteract camera limitations that deviate images from being “real”, the more post-production is made, which essentially means attaching more layers of computerisation to the images, the further the images again deviate from being “real”.

Post-production is actually already happening during “ante-production” (shooting on the scene). That is to say, when taking photos, the photographers, to some extent, have already begun subliminally “making post-production”. For example, when seeing through the viewfinders, the photographers are constantly selecting what to include into and to exclude from their photos, or they are cropping if thinking in post-production sense; when shooting the same scene with different lenses (or with different focal length of “zoom lenses”), the photographers create different image distortions (from overly spacious with wide angles to spatially compressed with telescopes). With post-production, these distortions could also be created, exaggerated or mitigated (but not “corrected” because to say so is to innocently premise that our visions are not visually distorted). Thus seen, at many levels, “ante-production” entails a great deal of “post-production”; or better, they are closely bonded together.

It then becomes rather odd that many generously accept so-called “un-manipulated” photos (in that, default-computerised images) while backlash “manipulated” photos, as if “un-manipulated” photos are de facto “un-manipulated”. Instead, as I have mentioned in Zizola’s case, the exceptional photographers see “ante-/post-production” as a whole. More straightforwardly, unlike film photography where photography and darkroom manipulation could be separable professions, digital photography is “ante-/post-production”: with the absence of either, digital photography would not be complete. This assertion is substantiated by the fact that digital photographers nowadays more or less know some post-production themselves, and are more willing to make post-production by themselves rather than outsourcing to others (in fear of e.g. the overturn of their overall aesthetics or misinterpretations of their photos’ messages—in short, the photographers want to take maximal control of their images until the final image outcomes).

The chair of the US National Press Photographer Association’s Ethics and Standards Committee points out:

The public has a vision of what a photograph is and what a real news photograph looks like, and we must work within this perception if we are to communicate…with our readers…[W]e must work within the boundaries of public expectations. (Solaroli 526)

The chair elaborates that to fulfil the public’s expectation of the “real” is oftentimes more important than pursuing the real real. Becker explains this phenomenon, “…the public belief in [photojournalists’] work is essential, and that their credibility depends on the public’s ability to trust in their photographs as unconstructed ‘pictures of reality’” (Becker 396). Since losing audience’s trust of particular news source directly affects its readership, this distorted orientation towards the audience’s “real” is by and large media-market determined. In this sense, even if photo editors know what the “real” for the images should be like, they often make great concessions (sometimes under the pressure from their superiors) in face of such audience-reality quandary so as to cater to their audience’s tastes of the “real”. To put it another way, what the photo editors pursue is no longer the real real but verisimilitude, a term Webster English Dictionary defines as “the quality of…representation that cause one to [accept] it as true…” (Newton 4). It is not coincidental that at the onset of digital photojournalism, many senior newspaper readers complained that digital images do not look “real” because their style did not resemble the style of film photos that they have for years accustomed to viewing.

Contrary to public perception, this paper sets out to debunk the unjustified yet stubborn association between photojournalism and depiction of reality, and the misunderstanding that the use of digital post-production compromises photojournalism’s promise of reality. To recapitulate, Raw files, whenever seen as images (in fact, default-computerised images), are without exception computerised, for they are not image files but packages of light-generated data. Thus, it is also nonsensical to compare Raw format in digital photography and negative in film photography (Solaroli 525). Further, If the default-computerised images decoded from Raw files fail to meet the photographers’ expectations, these images are then to be digitally modified, or to be idealised, in order to narrow the gap between what the images present and what their photographer expect them to present. Emphatically, in this process, photographers’ ideal images in their minds come before, not after the actual images, and that the photographers’ creation of images is nothing more than the materialisation of their ideal images, instead of the realisation of reality depiction. To achieve this materialisation, exceptional photographers fully facilitate the capabilities of two interrelated tools—ante-/post-production (exemplified by the analysis of Zizola’s photo and of HDR)—to an extent that on one hand, the latter becomes un-detachable from digital photography as an integer; on the other, they sometimes unconsciously “make post-production” during ante-production. This process is not to mention the hidden task of many photo editors: to fulfil audience’s expectations of the “real” rather than the real real. All together, photojournalism mainly serves the photojournalists, and is demonstrably incompetent for pursuing the real real.

Work Cited

Becker, Karin E.. “To Control Our Image: Photojournalists and New Technology”. American Art, vol. 20, no. 3, 1 July, 1991, pp. 381-397.

Keith, Susan. “Back to the 1990s? Comparing the Discourses of 20th- and 21st-Century Digital Image Ethics Debates”. Visual Communication Quarterly, vol. 21, no. 2, 2014, pp. 61-71. 

Newton, Julianne H.. “The Burden of Visual Truth: The Role of Photojournalism In Mediating Reality”. Visual Communication Quarterly, vol. 5, no. 4, 1998, pp. 4-9. 

Sekula, Allan. “On the Invention of Photographic Meaning”. Artforum (U.S.A.), vol. 13, no. 5, 1975, pp. 36-45.

Solaroli, Marco. “Toward A New Visual Culture Of The News: Professional Photojournalism, Digital Post-production, and the Symbolic Struggle For Distinction”. Digital Journalism, vol. 3, no. 4, 2015, pp. 513-532

Tomlinson, Don E.. “Digitexed Television News: The Beginning of the End For Photographic Reality in Photojournalism”. Business and Professional Ethics Journal, vol. 11, no. 1, 1992, pp. 51–70.

After nine years of suspension, BBC re-launched Doctor Who in 2005 (the so-called new Doctor Who, henceforth the series before are called classical Doctor Who) so as to embark on the competitive global “telefantasy” (Cornea 116). Matt Hills observes that “…‘makeover modalities’ [such as the new Doctor Who extend] to [revamps of TV franchises] themselves as well as…‘[bodies, clothes, rooms]’ (Weber, 2009: 27-8)” (321). The paradigms of “bodies, clothes, rooms” in Doctor Who series could be the Doctors’ costumes, Tardis console rooms and sonic screwdrivers.

Change is one of Doctor Who’s eternal themes. Indeed, what excite me as a fan are in part its indefinite possibilities of change. In Piers D. Britton’s words, “…there is no baseline, no ‘ground zero’.” (159). I do not agree in its entirety Britton’s argument. Instead, Hills proposes a better way to understand change in Doctor Who: there is a “narrative palimpsest” (320) of Doctor Who that sustains the Doctor Who cultural features, the narrative arc of classical Doctor Who and its Britishness, and at the same time allows an indefinite possibilities of accretion (not arbitrary change) beyond itself. I argue that this narrative palimpsest and accretion constitute the franchise’s strategic rebranding. To elaborate on such way of understanding change in Doctor Who, this essay specialises in analysing how Doctor Who is rebranded through the redesigns of the Doctors’ costumes, Tardis console rooms and sonic screwdrivers.

The Doctor’s costumes are good cases in point: fashion history blogger Katy Werlin analyses the tenth Doctor’s costume:

The formality of a pinstriped suit gives authority to the character, and reflects a sense of Britishness. But the unusual colour combination of those pinstriped suits also subverts authority and brings a strong sense of mischievousness to the character. This is emphasised by his informal Converse sneakers, whimsically patterned ties, and swishy, swashbuckling coat.

In this analysis, I extract three key features, “formality”, “Britishness” and “mischievousness”. These features could be found among all the new Doctors since they could be a part of the narrative palimpsest.

The formality is presented with the Doctor wearing suits (or at least parts of a suit) (Classical Doctors also without exception wear suits). Also, suits are associated with stereotypical Englishmen. Together with Wales’s accents and British humours, the Doctor is not merely presented (also branded) as a cliché alien (such as the “green little men” in X-files or the “popped eyes” in E.T.) but a unique kind of British alien. However, the costume representations of mischievousness also subverts the stereotype, and adds a bit exclusive idiosyncrasy of the Doctor, such as the tenth Doctor’s Converse shoes and the eleventh Doctor’s bow tie and fez.

Thus seen, the narrative palimpsest is unchallengeable. However, its representations are flexible at the whims of the current production team. In other words, in order to sustain the franchise, Doctor Who could be rebranded through different “accreted” representations of the narrative palimpsest, but not deviated away from it.

In the classical Doctor Who, the Tardis is more or less constrained in the design: a bright white-lit room with its white beehive-like walls and a white console panel in the centre surrounding by a pumping bar. The visuals of classical Tardis centres on practicality (rather than flamboyance) and are influenced by typical “sciency-fantasy” spaceships (Just image the console room of Entrepreneur in Star Trek and Millennium Falcon in Star War).

When the ninth Doctor opened the new Tardis for the first time, fans were appalled by the flamboyant design: it was coloured brown (!) and “…was visuali[s]ed as an organic entity” (Hills 321) with all the pillars and wires that resemble skeleton and blood vessels. Meanwhile, fans were not entirely unfamiliar with this new design—beehive-like walls and a console panel in the centre surrounded by a pumping bar (as a part of the narrative palimpsest)—It is the Tardis! Plus, Hills concludes, “…Who fans… [do not] challenge the underlying logic of franchise transformation and ‘updating’” (323).

Thus far, the Tardis console room has been redesigned for three times in the new Doctor Who: the designers replace the monotonous whiteness with different characteristic colours (brown, red and blue) and themes (organic entity, last-century retro, returning to sciency-fantasy and university classroom) (see fig.1). Hills posits that “[the redesigns] made the transformed [Tardis] interior[s] as much of a ‘star’ as the lead actors” (321). In effect, unlike in the classical Doctor Who the new where the Tardis is merely mentioned as alive, the new Doctor Who takes a step further by portraying the new Tardis as a living female character with occasional temperaments expressed in its own ways (like making “the Tardis groans” and trembling itself).

Comparing to the metallic classical sonic screwdrivers, they are increasingly plasticised and gaining outlooks of colourful toys in the new Doctor Who (see fig.2). Possibly as another part of narrative palimpsest, these modifications however do not defy the buzzing sounds and stick shape of classical sonic screwdrivers in general. Notably, the narrative palimpsest is kept consistent even after the latest series enable other characters such as River Song to have their sonic screwdrivers.

By analysing the paradigms of Mise-en-scenes in Doctor Who (the Doctors’ costumes, Tardis console rooms and sonic screwdrivers), Britton’s theorisation of “no baseline” (159) is in part debunked, and Hills’ theorisation of “the narrative palimpsest” (320) is supported, extended and reified. I found that change in Doctor Who is expressed through the different accreted representations of the narrative palimpsest while the narrative palimpsest itself could by no means be altered. It is through this accretion of representations of the narrative palimpsest that Doctor Who could be rebranded into its new series, as remarked by Elizabeth Sladen (actress of Sarah Jane Smith), “[t]he mood…is just totally Doctor Who…That feels totally the same—it [is] just bigger[!]” (Cornea 117).

Works Cited

Britton, Piers D.. “Towards an Aesthetics of Doctor Who”. TARDISbound, Distributed by Palgrave Macmillan, New York, Published By I.B.Tauris and Co Ltd., New York, 2011, pp.146-190.

Cornea, Christina. “Chapter Eight: Showrunning the Doctor Who Franchise, a Response to Denis Mann”. Production Studies, Edited By Vicki Mayer, Miranda J. Banks, John T Caldwell, Publised by Routledge, New York, 2009, pp. 115-122.

Hills, Matt. “Rebranding Doctor Who and reimagining Sherlock: ‘Quality’ television as ‘makeover TV drama’”. International Journal of Cultural Studies, Issue 3, Volume 18, Published By Sage Journals, 2015, pp. 317-331.

Werlin, Katy. “Doctor Who: A Contemporary Costume Evolution”. Online Journal, Clothes On Film (Website of Lord Christopher Laverty), August 21, 2014. Accessible At:

https://clothesonfilm.com/doctor-who-a-contemporary-costume-evolution/35381/

It is widely speculated that in the following years, the international currency system will shift from U.S. dollar hegemony to a tripolar system (U.S. dollar, the euro and the Chinese yuan). Right now, Eurozone is so enmeshed in its economic and political crises that it could hardly schedule an agenda for euro internationalisation while the internationalisation of Chinese yuan stands firmly in the priorities of Chinese government’s current agenda. All these being said, I still argue that U.S. dollar Hegemony will endure for a long time.

Annina Kaltenbrunner and Photis Lysandrou comment that the internationalisation of Chinese yuan does not help “…the foreign institutional investors [with] private governance institutions [and] protection of minority shareholder rights” (2017). This comment typifies the western viewpoint, which assumes that internationalisation of Chinese yuan serves for bigger private investment from and to China. However, none of its ongoing strategies is private-investment oriented. Instead, they are all strictly directed under the supervision of Chinese government: “joining Special Drawing Rights basket of IMF”, “[Qualified] Foreign Institutional Investors” and “the establishment of [Asian Infrastructure] Investment Bank” (Li and Zhang 2017), to name a few. Thus seen, unlike the American strategies in history (e.g., Bretton Woods Agreement and Floating Exchange Rate in the 1970s), these strategies are not oriented to opening up private financial investments. Rather, they are “Chinese Marshall Plans”. A case in point is that after 2008 Financial Crisis, Chinese government offered tremendous debts to the devastated countries, and at present, pushes these same countries to hold Chinese yuan reserves (Li and Zhang 2017). Moreover, the Chinese government has warned international speculators to retreat from speculating the appreciation of Chinese yuan (Zhang 2011). In short, the Chinese yuan will not challenge U.S. dollar hegemony because the Chinese Government never intended to do so.

Eurozone is in real trouble: not many European Member States’ (EMS) annual GDP growth exceeds one percent (exacerbated by low inflation); the advanced Asian countries eclipse EMSs in world trade competition (The expectation of higher interest rate leads the euro to appreciate, which further undermines its trade competitiveness); European citizens in the southern countries suffer from high unemployment and low wage, and postpone their spending in fear of another recession; the European banks could hardly profit from interest-rate margins due to low interest rates while being forced to “deleverage” after 2008 Financial Crisis. Meanwhile, fissure between northern and southern countries grows ever more serious (For example, Germany wants to raise the interest rate, which would be a disaster for the southern countries) (Mody 2018). In fact, nothing suggests that the EU officials are putting the internationalisation of the euro on the table. Thus seen, Eurozone’s current priority is to sort out its own problems before they could possibility schedule an agenda to internationalise the euro. At present, it lacks both the political autonomy and the economical attractiveness.

Given that the U.S. is circulating way more securities than could it repay under perpetuating government deficits, many hold that if U.S. defaults, investors will run on its securities, thus curtailing the hegemon status of U.S. dollar. Kaltenbrunner and Lysandrou debunk this myth: due to the high standardisation and transparency of the U.S. security market, sufficient supply (in terms of issuing financial products, no other security market is comparable to the U.S.) and demand (which means insurmountable liquidity) and minimal effect on its prices when selling and/or buying, U.S. security has become a means of value storage, especially considering the Griffin Problem (i.e. U.S. dollar is in shortage) at play. Therefore, financial intermediaries must constantly hold certain amount of U.S. securities to deal with some instant repayments, rather than running on U.S. securities as widely feared (Kaltenbrunner and Lysandrou 2017). Besides, It is among U.S. government’s best interests to finance their spending by constantly selling U.S. bonds to trade-surplus Asian countries, especially China. If trades with these Asian countries were not denominated in U.S. dollar, U.S. dollar would not flow back to U.S. government in large sums. It is because of these two reasons that neither the investors nor the U.S. government would let go of the U.S. dollar hegemony.

The three competitors are apparently having different agendas: While Eurozone is taking care of its internal business, and China is building up its “Marshall Plan”, the investors and U.S. government are sustaining U.S. dollar hegemony. The status quo is secure so long as they do not change their agendas.

Bibliography

Kaltenbrunner, Annia and Lysandrou, Photis. 2017. “The US Dollar’s Continuing Hegemony as an International Currency: A Double-matrix Analysis”. Development and Change, Vol. 48 (No. 4): 663-691.

Li, Cheng and Zhang, Xiaojing. 2018. “Renminbi Internationalization in the New Normal: Progress, Determinants and Policy Discussions”. China and World Economy, Vol. 25 (No. 2): 22-44.

Mody, Ashok. 2018. “The Future Ain’t What It Used to Be”. EuroTragedy: A Drama in Nine Acts, Published to Oxford Scholarship Online. May. http://www.oxfordscholarship.com/view/10.1093/oso/9780199351381.001.0001/oso-9780199351381-chapter-11

Zhang, B.. 2011. “RMB Internationalization In Wrong Sequence” Institute of World Economics and Politics Policy Brief, No. 2011.036. Chinese Academy of Social Sciences (in Chinese).

In Rousseau’s Discourse on the Origins of Inequality and “The Education of Women” from Emile, I identify two inconsistencies: In Discourse on the Origins of Inequality, Rousseau argues that humans are set apart from animals because they have the capabilities to acquiesce or resist natural impulsions, self-improve, understand and reason (page 14). However, in “The Education of Women”, he in part rejects these capabilities for women. In Discourse on the Origins of Inequality, he also argues that before the establishments of political institutions, all humans are on average equal (Rousseau, page 6) and slavery is unjustified (Rousseau, page 23). Yet, in “The Education of Women”, he suggests that women should be subservient to their men. By these two inconsistencies, I argue that his methodological difference in these two texts gives rise to the exclusion of women in Rousseau’s concept of equality.

In Discourse on the Origins of Inequality, Rousseau admits that humans receive the same natural impulsions (e.g. hunger, thirst and lust) as animals. Yet unlike animals, humans could choose to acquiesce or resist them (Rousseau, page 14). That is to say, humans have some free agency to reject what is in disfavour (in this case, natural impulsions). On the other hand, in “The Education of Woman”, he withdraws much of this free agency from women: “…it suffices that [women] have little power of resistance”. This is justified by his observations that women are “by nature” weaker than men, and in order to serve nature’s end designated for women, women shall not resist this trait granted by nature (Rousseau, page 260). However, in a status of nature, all men are weaker than their predators. Had all humans served “nature’s end designated for all humans”, humans would have been long extinguished.

In Discourse on the Origins of Inequality, Rousseau argues that self-improvement “…is [inherent] in species as in the [individual]” (page 14). On the other hand, in “The Education of Woman”, he argues that “…[women] should have whatever is befitting the constitution of her species and…sex…”, and their education is aimed to “…please [men], be useful to [men], make themselves loved and honoured by [men]…” (Rousseau, page 263), and “…they are never allowed to place themselves above [men’s] judgments” (Rousseau, page 270). On one hand, according to Rousseau, women, as a component of the human species, do self-improve. One the other hand, they cannot self-improve so much so that their self-improvements overstep men’s.

In Discourse on the Origins of Inequality, Rousseau argues that human passions (i.e., “to will, not to will, to desire and to fear”) bring forth human understanding and reason (page 14). In “The Education of Woman”, he observes that woman could only understand “practical” knowledge (aka. techne) but not “abstract and speculative truths, principles, scientific axioms and whatever else tend to generalise ideas” (aka. episteme) (Rousseau, page 281). Therefore, men should not teach them anything “…whose [utility] they cannot see” (Rousseau, page 267). However, women, as a component of the human species, share the same passions as men. It is inconsistent that the same passions generate different levels of knowledge capacities for men and women respectively.

In Discourse on the Origins of Inequality, Rousseau debunks natural hierarchy, and argues instead that the accumulation of private property and wealth led to human inequality (page 35). Correspondingly, slavery is unjustified because in a status of nature, no man’s survival is entirely dependent on others (Rousseau, page 23). On the other hand, in “The Education of Woman”, he directly contradicts himself: “…dependence being a state natural to women, girls feel that they are [made to obey]” so much as that “…they have…little liberty…to excess the liberty which is [granted to] them” (Rousseau, page 269). Also, he thinks that women’s “duty” of housekeeping is “…special, [indispensable and imposed by nature]” (Rousseau, page 290) so much as that women “…is hardly less a recluse in her house that a nun in her cloister” (Rousseau, page 282). I know no other terms other than slave to describe someone are not only made to obey but also perpetually spatially confined.

Rousseau’s two inconsistencies are straightforward: Women consist de facto a part of the human species while according to Rousseau, they do not possess in their entirety the capabilities thought by Rousseau himself that set humans apart from animals; Rousseau argues that humans are equal in a state of nature and natural slaves do not exist while he also encourages women to accept the inequality between the two sexes. Were these inconsistencies to be workable in some ways, Rousseau has to hold either that women do not belong to the human species or that women are excluded from Rousseau’s concept of equality. I think the latter is the case since the former suggestion is plainly absurd.

In both texts, Rousseau’s methodology is observational/empirical. In Discourse on the Origins of Inequality, he observes historical process leading to inequality, and then reasons about how this process came to be. In “The Education of Women”, he observes women in his time, and summarises their “natures”. The difference is that in Discourse on the Origins of Inequality, he not only just observes the historical facts, but also reasons how these facts came to be, while in “The Education of Women”, he merely “…observes [their] inclinations…” (Rousseau, page 263). This methodological difference contributes to those two inconsistencies: unlike in Discourse on the Origins of Inequality, Rousseau in “The Education of Women” takes his observed “natures” of women for justified without bothering to reason if they really are justified. Notably, when Rousseau opposes slavery in Discourse on the Origins of Inequality, he even rejects his own methodology in “The Education of Women”: “[We cannot…, from the servility of nations already enslaved, judge of the natural disposition of mankind for or against slavery]” (page 32).

If he were to reason, his would have arrived at different conclusions: If humans are indeed equal in a state of nature, why do women by and large appear weaker than men? From there, he would have been befuddled by the lack of natural reason for weaker women. If something is present while it has no reason to be, it is very likely that humans themselves have introduced it (as in the case of human inequality). Indeed, in Rousseau’s time, women behave according to their “natures” merely because their opportunity to behave otherwise is taken from them: It is not because all girls like dolls, but because dolls are the only toys they are given for the expectancy that they will like them, a philosophical phenomenon I term “the self-realisation of narratives”.

Since young, we are told to believe nothing until we see it with our own eyes. From Rousseau’s inconsistencies, another lesson is told: Is what we see always the absolute truth? Or, is it that we are so obsessed with our own predispositions that we cannot see otherwise, so much so that even if an obvious counterexample is present, we automatically treat it as unjustified and false, or worse, oppress what we think unjust according to our own guidelines (or in Rousseau’s words, the “nature”), and assume that justice is done? In short, do we allow our predispositions to be self-realised and run in circles? Karl Marx said, “[t]he philosophers have only interpreted the world, in various ways. [The point, however, is to change it]”. If we are to always bear the Marxian maxim in mind, nothing is justified because of their mere existence (otherwise, nothing ought to be changed), not even what we see for ourselves, if it has not gone through thorough investigation, deliberation and reasoning.

I identify Rousseau’s two inconsistencies in Discourse on the Origins of Inequality and “The Education of Women”, namely women (while being a part of human species)’s partial dispossession of capacities that distinguish humans from animals and men’s superiority over women while natural hierarchy is non-existent. These inconsistencies are in part resulted from Rousseau’s methodological difference, i.e. the use and absence of reasoning over his observations in respective texts, from which a lesson could be taught: to fend off “the self-realisation of narratives”, the justification of pure observations ought not to be taken for granted without careful investigation, deliberation and reasoning.

Works Cited

Marx, Karl. Eleven Theses on Feuerbach. Goodreads Quotes. Accessible At: https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/17310-the-philosophers-have-only-interpreted-the-world-in-various-ways

Rousseau, Jean Jacques. “Book Fifth: The Education of Women” (Excerpts Distributed On Canvas University Course System Under Course PHIL 330 001, 2018, University of British Columbia). Emile. pp. 259-303.

Rousseau, Jean Jacques. Discourse on the Origins of Inequality, Translated by G. D. H. Cole, The Academy of Dijon. Accessible Online at: https://www.aub.edu.lb/fas/cvsp/Documents/DiscourseonInequality.pdf879500092.pdf

In Zachary Hoskins’ “Criminalisation and the Collateral Consequences of Conviction”, Hoskin explains one possible version of John Stuart Mill’s “harm principle” (“the only purpose for which power can rightfully be exercised over any member of a civilised community against his will is to prevent harm to others” (376)) in criminal justice systems as the “harmful prevention principle (HHP)”: “we have good reason[s] to criminalise a…conduct…only if…doing so will efficiently prevent harm[s] to others” (629).

However, HHP does not consider “foreseeable unintended harms”, or “collateral consequences”, that the criminalisation of many conducts give rise to their convicted criminals (Hoskins 631): legal or civil restrictions or prohibitions on voting, employment of certain jobs, fostering and adopting children, accessibility to driver’s licenses, housing, loans, public welfare and firearms (in the U.S.) and serving in the military as well as in formal burdens from social stigma, assaults, humiliations and harassments as a result of it, tension and estrangement from family and intimate ones (Hoskins 625-627).

If the sum of the harms caused by legal punishments (e.g. fines or incarceration) and their collateral consequences outweigh the utility brought by criminalising these conducts, their criminalisation is not justified, since the point of criminalisation is to bring more good to society than harm, not vice versa. Therefore, HPP is modified to incorporate collateral consequences: “we have good reason[s] to criminalise a…conduct…only if doing so will contribute to a [net reduction in foreseeable harms to others] (emphasis mine) (HPP2)” (Hoskins 631). Still, it should be admitted that some of collateral consequences are justifiable. Only those collateral consequences are that are unjustifiable, or “wrongful”, should be taken into the equation (Hoskins 631). Therefore, HPP2 is modified to incorporate “wrongfulness”: “we have good reason[s] to criminalise a…conduct…only if doing so will contribute to a net reduction in foreseeable [wrongful] harm[s] to others (emphasis mine) (WHPP2)” (Hoskin 631).

In order to evaluate the justness of collateral consequences by existing philosophical theories of legal punishments, it must be decided whether collateral consequences belong to legal punishments. Courts usually reject that they are, because they themselves do not introduce them. However, collateral consequences share the same purposes of legal punishments, that is to punish criminals and/or to protect civilians. Also, collateral consequences, like legal punishments, are forced harms to criminals imposed by society. Therefore, a score of scholars (Hoskin 628) and I think that collateral consequences indeed belong to legal punishments.

In this essay, I adopt the retributivist theory of legal punishment to evaluate the justness of collateral consequences. The theory suggests that each person exercises his/her self-restraint to obeys a set of rules that makes “a sphere for each person, which is immune from interference by others”, possibile (Morris 548). If one breaks the rules, s/he renounces his/her burdens of obeying the rules on his/her own rational will, by which s/he gains an advantage over all those who still obey them (Morris 548). Thus, legal punishments are justified, because they cancel out this unfair advantage by forcibly assigning burdens in the form of legal punishments to the disobedients (Morris 549). Metaphorically, when criminals serve their punishments, they are said to “pay back the debts” owed to other members of the society.

If legal punishments are understood as balancing out the benefits and burdens of each person or “clearing debts” to other members of society, it is reasonable to induce that all legal punishments should have endpoints that indicate when or under what conditions the balance is restored or “debts cleared”. Otherwise as insane as the idea of “unclearable debts”, the balance can never be restored, because it is always possible that criminals continue to accumulate burdens from collateral consequences, even after the point at which the balance is supposed to have been restored. In this way, the original purpose of balancing benefits and burdens is failed, thus legal punishments without end points are unjustified according to the retributivist theory.

While Hoskins distinguishes rightful and wrongful harms in his WHPP2, and provide several pilot criteria to determine wrongful harms (631-632), I argue that since most collateral consequences without endpoints are by all means unjustified or wrongful punishments according to the retributivist theory. Notably, my criticism of collateral consequences does not look into informal burdens, because there is likely no way of effacing discrimination against criminals, insofar as its expression does not cross the line of criminality. However, the legal or civil restrictions and prohibitions can in theory be stipulated with endpoints.

In the following, I use two examples to show that collateral consequences without endpoints could be devastating to criminals so much so that they sometimes facilitate the reserve effect of legal punishments, i.e. the making of recurrent criminals, because they submit criminals to situations in which the means of subsistence and the status of human dignity are significantly harder to acquire than otherwise.

Hoskins offers a list of jobs that are denied for criminals in the U.S.: police officer, teacher, architect, cosmetologist etc (Hoskins 627). At first sight, the denial of these jobs seems to be just, because it stops “bad influence” of criminals from penetrating “jobs of uprightness”. However, the majority of listed jobs are skilled jobs that require at least some years of studying, training and professional experiences. If someone commits a crime that has nothing to do with his/her career but nevertheless bars him/her from continuing to work in his/her familiar fields for life, years of studying, training and professional experiences will suddenly be in vain. Therefore, this criminal is likely to opt for a job that requires little expertise, and all the while pays way less than the one which s/he has devoted time and energy (and possibly enthusiasm) for.

Hoskins also finds that “[U.S.] [f]ederal law [permanently] bars those with drug-related felony convictions from receiving welfare assistance (emphasis mine)” (627). Presumably, “drug-related felony convictions” refer to trafficking or wholesaling drugs in large quantities (rather than possessing or recreational uses that are relatively minor crimes). If so, this collateral consequence is in a sense self-contradictory: most drug dealers sell drugs out of poverty (especially from black communities in the U.S.), the ban of welfare assistance further alienates them from better-off lives, which makes them more likely to continue their drug business.

If these collateral consequences are set with endpoints, it will not only passes the justice evaluation in the retributivist theory and serve the purpose of collateral consequences (whatever it may be), but also offer criminals a hint of hope by the idea that their collateral consequences are but temporary, thus motivating them to work towards the conditions that result in endpoints of collateral consequences (similar motivational mechanism is already in place in prisons).

One may object by claiming that some collateral consequences without endpoints are justifiable when imposed to certain severe criminals. I agree that criminals that have some rational senses ought to be treated differently from criminals that cannot reasonably control their behaviours without exterior assistance. However, in practice, criminals so severe as to deserve collateral consequences without endpoints are usually already adjudicated with at least life sentences. Therefore, collateral consequences are out of the question for them. This makes the injustice of collateral consequences without endpoints even more apparent, because criminals of less severity are in some sense treated similarly to criminals that deserve at least life sentences.

Hoskins arrives at WHPP2 after applying Mill’s “harm principle” to criminal justice system incorporating “unintended foreseeable harms” and “wrongfulness”: “we have good reason[s] to criminalise a…conduct…only if doing so will contribute to a net reduction in foreseeable wrongful harm[s] to others” (Hoskins 631). Albeit courts’ denial, “unintended foreseeable harms”, or “collateral consequences”, can be reasonably considered as a part of legal punishments, given their shared purposes and harmfulness to criminals, enabling me to criticise the unjustness of collateral consequences without endpoints in light of the retributivist theory and with two examples, namely occupational bans and the bans to access welfare assistance for drug dealers. Finally, The objection that some collateral consequences without endpoints imposed to severe criminals are arguably justifiable does not hold, because several criminals are almost always given at least life sentences.

Work Cited

Hoskins, Zachary. “Criminalisation and the Collateral Consequences of Conviction”. Criminal Law and Philosophy, Volume 12, Issue 4, December, 2018, pp. 625–639, https://link.springer.com/content/pdf/10.1007%2Fs11572-017-9449-2.pdf.

Morris, Herbert. “Persons and Punishment” (Inside “Chapter 22: Retributivism Two: Fair Play”, “Part Five: Punishment”). Classic Readings and Cases in the Philosophy of Law, Edited by Susan Dimock, Published by Routledge, 2016, pp. 548-558, https://www.taylorfrancis.com/books/e/9781315509655.

In Malmo-Levine v. R.; Caine v. R., Supreme Court of Canada (“the Court” in the following) is required to examine whether the criminalisation of marihuana possession violates Section Seven of Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms (“the Charter” in the following) that guarantees “[e]veryone has the right to life, liberty and security of the person and the right not to be deprived thereof except in accordance with the principles of fundamental justice. (Government of Canada 2)” (Supreme Court of Canada 326-336).

They resort to the “harm principle” proposed by philosopher John Stuart Mill: the only justifiable reason to restrict individual liberty is the prevention of harm to others This principle rejects paternalistic (for the individual’s own good) and moral (for it is morally right) reasons to restrict individual liberty (375-385). The appellants think that the possession of marihuana does not involve any “significant or non-trivial” harm to others, therefore according to the harm principle, its criminalisation is a violation of their Section Seven Charter right (Supreme Court of Canada 326-336).

However, the Court does not see the harm principle as a principle of fundamental justice. Therefore the appellants’ accusation is invalid for them (326-336). Specifically, the Court argues that while harm-inducing behaviours are to be criminalised, the absence of harm for other behaviours does not eliminate the possibility to criminalise them (330). For example, Canada continues to have paternalistic laws such as the requirements to wear vehicle seatbelts and motorcycle helmets and moral laws such as the prohibitions of cannibalism and bestiality (Supreme Court of Canada 333). The fact that these examples are seldom challenged suggests that the harm principle is not unanimously accepted.

The Court goes further to explain why the harm principle should not be accepted as a principle of fundamental justice: according to the Court, in order for a principle to be a principle of fundamental justice:

“[it] must be capable of being identified with some [precision,] applied to situations in a manner which [yields an understandable result]… [and shares] significant societal [consensus]…” (emphasis mine) (Supreme Court of Canada 331-332).

Clearly, the harm principle fails these criteria: since there is no consensus of the definition of harm, it is imprecise and cannot yield an understandable result (Supreme Court of Canada 333-334). That is to say, people of diverse views could potentially argue forever on what consists of harm. For the Court as a practical institution which is obligated to make legal decisions regularly, there is simply no way of incorporating a principle that could potentially delay decision-making forever. I agree with the Court’s justification and my reason is as follows:

From the Court’s perspective, the law in principle is designed to prevent the threat:

“…[collective safety or integrity of society] through the infliction of direct damage or the undermining of…values or interests necessary [for social life to be carried on and for the maintenance of the kind of society cherished by Canadians]” (Government of Canada 45),

or in short, the threat to social stability (which consists of the protection of social safety and social values). I argue that the court would always prioritises the prevention of the threat to social stability before anything else including the harm principle.

It is in the court’s best interest to promote social stability that allows the society to “carry on” (to borrow from their own words) (Government of Canada 45) and minimise anything adverse to this goal. On the other hand, if the Court accepts the harm principle, it automatically disables those paternalistic and moral laws that almost always facilitate social stability. This is another reason why the harm principle is so problematic for the Court.

To illustrate, I examine the laws exemplified by the Court that do not meet the harm principle. The requirements to wear vehicle seatbelt and motorcycle helmets fall under the protection of social safety: a society will never be stable, if its member does not feel safe in it; the prohibitions of cannibalism and bestiality fall under the protection of social values: a society will be less stable, if the majority values are not guaranteed by the law.

Legislators stipulate laws against cannibalism and bestiality not necessarily because they think it is morally right, as suggested and opposed by the harm principle. To look at an extreme situation, even if the legislators are morally-perverted cannibalists and people who practice bestiality, when they sit together and discuss about law legislation, they will nevertheless still legislate laws against their own tastes, because it would create tremendous social instability if they do otherwise. Thus seen, at face value, moral laws may seem to deserve Mill’s criticism of the imposition of the majority values (“the tyranny of the majority” (376)), but in fact have nothing to do with the legislators’ own morals but with the maintenance of social stability.

In Malmo-Levine v. R.; Caine v. R specifically, the appellants may be right that the recreational use of marihuana in responsible manners does not cause immediate harm to others or themselves, but before the legalisation of marihuana in Canada, people acquire marihuana through illegal channels such as smugglers and black markets. Therefore, if the possession of marihuana is legalised at that time, it promotes the illegal channels which brood a series of problems threatening social stability.

Besides, the case was in 2003 when the public opinion on marihuana was somewhat vague, and the legalisation of marihuana at that time might create controversies (a threat that could divide social integrity). In recent years however, because the public opinion has united on the pro-marihuana side, if the legislators kept its criminalisation, the potential threat to social stability would be greater than otherwise. Thus seen, many legislative decisions are the result of weighing which decision is the best to promote social stability at the time of decision-making.

In Malmo-Levine v. R.; Caine v. R, The Court decides to reject the appellants’ defense on the grounds of Mill’s harm principle which refuse any reason to restrict individual liberty other than the prevention of harm to others, by offering examples of existing laws that clearly violate such principles. Moreover, they put forward a criteria to decide whether a principle could be adopted as a principle of fundamental justice which the harm principle fails to pass. From a different angel, I defend the Court’s decision: since the harm principle rule out any paternalistic and moral laws that are potentially conducive to the legislators’ priority concern, i.e. social stability, there is no way for the Court to ever accept such principle. Also, I have proven not only the laws exemplified by the Court but also the law of criminalisation of marihuana possession in this case promote social stability despite failing the harm principle.

Work Cited

Government of Canada. Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, pp. 1-4, https://www.edu.gov.mb.ca/k12/cur/socstud/foundation_gr9/blms/9-1-3f.pdf

Government of Canada. “Proper Scope of the Criminal Law” (Inside: “Chapter Four: Scope, Purpose and Principles”). The Criminal Law in Canadian Society, Ottawa, August, 1982, pp. 41-45, http://johnhoward.ca/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/1982-KE-8809-C7-1982-Chretien.pdf

Mill, John Stuart. “On Liberty” (Inside: “Chapter Sixteen: In Defense of Liberty, Part Four: Law and Liberty”). Classic Readings in the Philosophy of Law, Edited by Susan Dimock, Routledge, 2016, pp. 375-385.

Supreme Court of Canada. “R. v. Malmo-Levine; R. v. Caine [2003] 3 SCR 571”. Law and Morality: Readings in Legal Philosophy, Edited by David Dyzenhaus, Moreau Sophia Reibetanz and Arthur Ripstein, University of Toronto Press, 2007, pp. 326-336