Best political philosophy/theory papers, a decade later

by Chris Bertram on January 3, 2015

Back in 2004 I wrote [a piece here](https://crookedtimber.org/2004/05/17/best-political-philosophytheory-papers/ ) asking for people to nominate the most significant political philosophy/theory papers of the previous ten years. On twitter, @sreddi_515 asks me whether there was ever a second round. Well no, but why not?

Last time I nominated five suggestions to kick us off, so why not again? Some of these papers I profoundly disagree with, but I think they are all worth the effort.

* Charles Mills (2005). “‘Ideal Theory’ as Ideology”. *Hypatia*, 20(3).
* Andrea Sangiovanni (2007). “Global Justice, Reciprocity, and the State. *Philosophy and Public Affairs*, 35(1).
* Arash Abizadeh (2008). “Democratic Theory and Border Coercion”. *Political Theory*, 36(1),
* Zofia Stemplowska, (2008). “What’s ideal about ideal theory?” *Social Theory and Practice*, 34(3).
* David Estlund, (2011). “Human nature and the limits (If any) of political philosophy”. *Philosophy and Public Affairs*, 39(3).

Over to you….

Untimorous Beastie

by Maria on January 3, 2015

People are always asking me where my hugely fluffy and dolphin-smiling Samoyed dog, Milo, is from. ‘Northamptonshire’ always gets a laugh. He’s been a great little traveler from the first, which is probably pure luck, but I put it partly down to his general ebullience. Last April, Ed and I drove a few hours north of London to get the little beastie. We stopped off first at Ed’s old prep school, where he’d been sent from Ireland at the age of eight. It was a Sunday and they now just do weekly boarding, so we walked around the school’s silent rose garden, playing field and pond. I can’t say seeing the place helped me understand its place in his psyche any better, but he was surprised and moved to remember places and things he’d forgotten, and find the new-old memories were happier than he’d thought. Then we went and plucked our white little furball from his own litter and drove three hours home with him on my lap. He didn’t wee or howl or soil himself, or even try to escape, poor little thing. Having no obvious traumas on that journey seemed to set him up to be a good car dog; well, so far so good, anyway.

Milo’s habits are simple and revolting. He is a proper South London dog. For the first couple of months there was nothing on the street he wouldn’t eat; spilt curry, vomited curry, styrofoam, plastic bags, used condoms and cigarette butts. He has absolutely no concept of gastrointestinal cause and effect. The first time he stayed overnight with Henry and his family in Ireland this summer, Milo crept out and gobbled half a gallon of gone-off shellfish that had been thrown away into a ditch down the road. When Ed is old and takes – finally – to warming up old stories for me, he’ll probably not count as a high point in our marriage the three a.m. pool of crustacean-laced dog-sick at the bottom of the bed and me under a pillow saying; ‘It’s too disgusting; you deal with it’.
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