Technological innovations and scientific discoveries do not occur in a vacuum but instead leave us needing to reimagine what we thought we knew about the human condition.

Geoengineering involves intentionally modifying the environment on a massive scale and is typically proposed as a last resort to prevent catastrophic harms caused by climate change. Critics argue that there are powerful moral reasons against researching, let alone undertaking, geoengineering. Perhaps most notably, Stephen Gardiner argues that even if we are forced to choose between allowing a climate catastrophe or geoengineering—and geoengineering is the less harmful option—it could still be the case that we ought not to geoengineer. This essay argues for a conditional: if we are indeed forced to choose between catastrophic environmental harm and the less harmful option of geoengineering, then we ought to geoengineer.

Regulatory agencies aim to protect the public by moderating risks associated with innovation, but a good regulatory regime should also promote justified public trust. After introducing the USDA 2020 SECURE Rule for regulation of biotech innovation as a case study, this essay develops a theory of justified public trust in regulation. On the theory advanced here, to be trustworthy, a regulatory regime must (1) fairly and effectively manage risk, must be (2) “science based” in the relevant sense, and must in addition be (3) truthful, (4) transparent, and (5) responsive to public input. Evaluated with these norms, the USDA SECURE Rule is shown to be deeply flawed, since it fails appropriately to manage risk, and similarly fails to satisfy other normative requirements for justified trust. The argument identifies ways in which the SECURE Rule itself might be improved, but more broadly provides a normative framework for the evaluation of trustworthy regulatory policy-making.

Informed consent is a central concept in the literature on the ethics of clinical care and human subjects research. There is a broad consensus that ethical practice in these domains requires the informed consent of patients and subjects. The requirements of informed consent in these domains, however, are matters of considerable controversy. Some argue that the requirements of informed consent have been inflated, others that they have not been taken seriously enough. This essay argues that both sides are partly right. To advance this argument, the essay distinguishes a general doctrine of informed consent from what it characterizes as “models of informed consent.” A general doctrine articulates a set of requirements for informed consent and then adjusts these requirements to fit the context in which they are to be applied. In contrast, different models of informed consent impose different requirements in different contexts. The essay contends that different models of informed consent are needed for clinical care and clinical research. It outlines these two models, articulates the rationale for distinguishing them, and considers and rebuts the objection that clinical care and clinical research are too deeply intertwined in contemporary medicine for the models approach to apply to them.

Reasonable people agree that whenever possible, we ought to rely on experts to tell us what is true or what the best course of action is. But which experts should we rely on and with regard to what issues? Here, I discuss several dangers that accompany reliance on experts, the most important one of which is this: positions that are offered as expert opinion frequently contain elements outside an expert’s domain of expertise, for instance, values not intrinsic to the given domain. I also talk about the practical implications of accepting my view.

The fog of war—poor intelligence about the enemy—can frustrate even a well-prepared military force. Something similar can happen in intellectual debate. What I call the fog of debate is a useful metaphor for grappling with failures and dysfunctions of argumentative persuasion that stem from poor information about our opponents. It is distressingly easy to make mistakes about our opponents’ thinking, as well as to fail to comprehend their understanding of and reactions to our arguments. After describing the fog of debate and outlining its sources in cognition and communication, I consider a few policies we might adopt upon learning we are in this fog.

Algorithms are now routinely used in decision-making; they are potent components in decisions that affect the lives of individuals and the activities of public and private institutions. Although use of algorithms has many benefits, a number of problems have been identified with their use in certain domains, most notably in domains where safety and fairness are important. Awareness of these problems has generated public discourse calling for algorithmic accountability. However, the current discourse focuses largely on algorithms and their opacity. I argue that this reflects a narrow and inadequate understanding of accountability. I sketch an account of accountability that takes accountability to be a social practice constituted by actors, forums, shared beliefs and norms, performativity, and sanctions, and aimed at putting constraints on the exercise of power. On this account, algorithmic accountability is not yet constituted; it is in the making. The account brings to light a set of questions that must be addressed to establish it.

This essay argues that online public shaming can be productively understood as a problem of technology. In particular, the technology of public shaming is ambiguous between two senses. On the one hand, public shaming depends on various technologies, such as social media posts or, more historically, pillories. These are the artifacts of shame. On the other hand, public shaming itself is a social technology. In particular, public shaming is a way for communities to promote cooperation. Ultimately, I claim there is a mismatch between the artifacts of shame and this important social technology of shame. Social media drifts toward disintegrative shame, which tends to corrode cooperation. This suggests that we must either realign the technology of public shame or reject shame as a legitimate option.

The United States juvenile justice system has primary oversight of youth who come into contact with legal authorities. This system is purposefully distinct from the adult system given the presumption of youths’ reduced culpability for delinquent behavior and increased potential for rehabilitation. Some juvenile court policies and practices are supportive of youth while others may drive youth further into the juvenile justice system. Today, we are at a point in which we can—and should—use information technology to accrue data to unpack the impact of these policies and practices on and across youth. Moreover, technology-driven policies and practices such as electronic monitoring may be detrimental to the well-being of youth, whereas others such as video conferencing could be more widely used to benefit youth. While juvenile courts hold youth accountable for their behavior, courts also need to be accountable to youth by employing data-informed policies and practices that advance the health and well-being of youth.

Transitional justice refers to the process of dealing with widespread wrongdoing characteristically committed during the course of conflict and/or repression. Examples of such processes include criminal trials, truth commissions, reparations, and memorials. Technology is altering the forms that widespread wrongdoing takes. Technology is also altering the form of processes of transitional justice themselves. This essay provides a map of these changes and their normative implications.

The great urbanist Jane Jacobs details how urban planning impacts the social interactions and social networks responsible for the economic death or life of a city. How might urban planning impinge on the moral values that underlie that development? I draw on Jacobs’s work on the moral foundations of commercial society to identify two “urban values” (tolerance and innovation). I then examine how these values support the social networks and processes that facilitate urban-based innovation and how urban planning can strengthen or undermine those values. I use the examples of urban planning in the 15th Ward of Syracuse, New York and of city building in the private development of Cayalá in Guatemala City to illustrate these points.

Scientific advancement is inextricably linked to cultural advancement, and historically the arts have worked hand in hand with technological change. This essay explores some of the connections that exist between science, technology, and the arts, privileging instances where technological change resulted in new forms of artistic creation. Although the role of the arts in contemporary society has ebbed in comparison to that of technology and science, the essay argues that quality, meaningfulness, and longevity are key components in how the arts can retain cultural value in today’s technocentric world. It explores significant instances from the history of music and visual art as the authors make the case that the methods of science and art are both distinct yet commensurate in their ability to shape the values and ideas of contemporary society.

Since the earliest human societies, there has been an ongoing struggle between hierarchy and resistance to hierarchy, and this struggle is a major driver of the evolution of moralities and of institutions. Attempts to initiate or sustain hierarchies are often met with resistance; hierarchs then adopt new strategies, which in turn prompt new strategies of resistance; and so on. The key point is that the struggle is typically conducted using moral concepts in justifications for or against unequal power and involves the stimulation of the moral emotions. Both parties to the struggle treat morality as a valuable strategic resource; and the dynamic of interaction between hierarchs and resisters generates changes in that resource. The hierarch/resister struggle is in part a competition between moral concepts and justifications, and that competition drives the emergence of new moral concepts and justifications, just as competition in other contexts generates innovations. Among the moral concepts generated by the struggle are the following: authority, legitimacy, aristocracy, the divine right of kings, the mandate of heaven, natural rights, civil and political rights, constitutionalism, the rule of law, sovereignty, collective self-determination, exploitation, oppression, and domination.

It appears likely that at its peak the classical economy was almost as large as that of Western Europe during the Industrial Revolution. The following review of the archeological and document evidence indicates that three events occurring in the first half of the first millennium BC trigger the emergence of a specialized and integrated classical economy after 500 BC: (i) growth in demand for silver as a medium of exchange in economies in the Near East; (ii) technical breakthroughs in hull construction and sailing rig in merchant shipping of the late Bronze Age; (iii) perfection of ferrous metallurgy into the European hinterland. This last event raised agricultural productivity to a level capable of supporting the occupational specialization needed to sustain a vigorous trading economy. To these initial causes may be added the diffusion of alphabetic writing. While it did not create opportunities for long-distance trade, the diffusion of writing supplied the means of responding on a scale large enough economically to matter.