Ronald Dworkin's effort to distinguish multiple layers of “intention” that are embedded in the constitutional text has been taken as a substantial critique of traditional originalist jurisprudence. Dworkin has strongly argued that the constitutional text embodies abstract principles. These principles are understood to be both fundamental to the Founders' intentions and the primary focus of correct constitutional interpretation faithful to those intentions. This article argues that Dworkin's reconceptualization of originalism is theoretically flawed. Although there may be normative reasons for preferring that the judiciary always enforce broad constitutional principles, such a jurisprudence cannot be understood as either consistent with or required by an originalist interpretative method whose primary commitment is to fidelity to founding intent.

Montesquieu's theory of separate powers is elaborated in a discussion of the constitution of England in Book XI, chapter 6 of The Spirit of the Laws, which is by far the most discussed section of that work. Many commentators have interpreted the English system straightforwardly as Montesquieu's ideal regime. But while he greatly admires the legal separation of powers in the English constitution, he worries that the spirit of “extreme” liberty among the English could undercut the constitutional separation of powers that protects their liberty. Montesquieu's ambivalence thus raises questions as to what sort of “spirit” a regime must have to sustain a constitution of separate powers and so to preserve individual liberty. His reservations about England are important for understanding his philosophy of liberalism and have broad significance for any polity that seeks to protect individual liberty through a constitution of separate powers

According to Isaiah Berlin's influential interpretation, J. G. Herder (1744–1803) deserves to be recognized as the first cultural pluralist in the West, and thus also as an important historical source of the pluralistic ideas espoused by increasing numbers of political theorists today. Herder's importance actually lies in the ambivalent stance he takes toward his own pluralistic insights. That is, convinced that it is impossible to adhere to a completely pluralistic view of the world, Herder sets out to combine pluralism and its theoretical opposite (“monism”) into a novel theory of historical progress according to which history reaches its culmination in the realization of a purified form of Christianity. Contemporary pluralists have much to learn—both historically and theoretically—from Herder's confrontation with his pluralism.

Hegel's concept of patriotism helps specify an account of the just association of collective identity and state power. This concept has three main features. First, as a distinctly modern virtue, patriotism is limited by Hegel's account of modernity and its link to “subjective freedom.” Second, patriotism forges an important connection between critical reflection and habitual practice, illuminated in a comparison of Hegel's thoughts on ethical education with Aristotelian practical philosophy. Third, these first two dimensions are brought together with a decision grounded in the acceptance of the irreducibly collective dimension of freedom— the will to war for one–s country. Hegel's account of war is also a “test case” for his internally limited patriotism, as a comparison with Kant's argument for “perpetual peace” reveals. In conclusion, this account connects traditional liberal institutions with a republican concern for self-rule in a framework that offers legitimate bounds to a “right to national self-determination”.

As Gadamer, the “dean” of European philosophy, turns 100 this year, it behooves philosophers and reflective people in general to ponder the relation between philosophy and “good life,” and more broadly between philosophy and natural health. As it happens, Gadamer himself has extensively reflected on this issue, especially in a book titled The Enigma of Health. The essay first recapitulates some of the main arguments of Gadamer's text, focusing on the difference between the growing scientific arsenal of medical intervention (combatting illness) and the unforced and un-constructed maintenance of human health through attentiveness to “nature's way.” The middle section inserts the text into the context of Gadamer's larger opus, exploring particularly the connection between health and such key Gadamerian concerns as “appropriateness,” “natural rightness,” and “mimesis.” The conclusion traces affinities between Gadamer and the teachings of Heidegger and Adorno, while also probing the political implications of his text for the maintenance of human freedom in the face of expertocracy and the reduction of politics to ideological blueprints.

Just thirty years ago, R. J. Hollingdale began the introductio to one of his translations with the defensive question: “Why read a book by Nietzsche?” Now these same books are being simultaneously retranslated in several competing editions, so eager are university presses to capitalize on the academic bonanza that Friedrich Nietzsche has become. Many of Nietzsche's works were first published in print runs of some two hundred copies. We have now reached the point where there are many more books about Nietzsche than there were once copies of the original titles themselves. In the past decade alone, as a quick computer search will inform anyone, nearly three hundred volumes have been written concerning Nietzsche's work, his relation to other philosophers and cultural figures, and his effect on every aspect of our contemporary existence. Even for those seriously concerned with Nietzsche's philosophy, keeping up with this literature is a nearly impossible task. If forty days and forty nights were enough to cover the earth with water, then the flood of Nietzsche literature is perhaps nearing the thirty-eighth day. Once is almost tempted simply to wait until the waters have receded and then to see what, if anything, remains.