Blockchain Papers

Ilya Kokorin

This article explores the phenomenon of the decentralisation defence, which refers to instances where ‘decentralisation’ is invoked either as a shield against liability or as insulation from the reach of the law. This defence is rooted in the technological features of distributed ledger technology and smart contracts built on the blockchain settlement layer, including pseudonymity, programmability, immutability and decentralisation. Together, these features enable transactions while reducing reliance on centralised intermediaries. Although major decentralised finance (DeFi) applications, such as decentralised crypto exchanges, are not harmful per se, their misuse by bad actors creates risks for market participants. The recent cases of Uniswap Labs and Tornado Cash illustrate that the decentralisation defence can result in unaddressed harms and produce other negative externalities. These outcomes have prompted efforts to identify regulatory hooks along the centralisation vectors. The search for a responsible party in blockchain-enabled decentralised arrangements resembles processes observed with two other key technological advancements in the digital space – the internet and artificial intelligence. Drawing inspiration from the modern EU regulation of these transformative technologies, this article focuses on the role of user interfaces as DeFi gatekeepers, and software developers engaged in the creation of smart contract code and blockchain protocols.

Gita Steiner‐Khamsi

Abstract This article discusses four significant changes in lesson drawing, policy learning, or policy borrowing. Thematically , the issue of educational expansion has preoccupied policy-makers worldwide for the past hundred years. They have been eager to learn from experiences elsewhere, initially how others decentralized the finance and management of schooling to enable universal access and later how they addressed the fallout of decentralization reforms, notably inequity and quality erosion. Regarding the modalities of policy learning, the ‘travelling observer’ has been replaced by myriad digital platforms that propagate best practices and ‘actionable’ policy recommendations. As a consequence of the decentralization of governance and finance and, in some countries, structural adjustment policies, the drivers of policy borrowing have shifted from ministries of education to a wide range of stakeholders, including ministries of finance, offices of presidents and prime ministers, and private foundations and businesses. Finally, changes in the objects of emulation or reference societies reflect a spatial reconfiguration of a special sort. Along with countries in the same geopolitical or cultural space, the education systems of league leaders in international large-scale assessments, such as Finland, Korea, and Singapore, have become objects of policy attraction for both OECD and non-OECD countries.

Mathijs van de Sande

In 2011 and the ensuing years, the world witnessed a global wave of various “occupy movements,” from the Spanish 15-M and the Greek anti-austerity protests of 2011 to Occupy Wall Street (OWS), and from the Gezi Park protests in Istanbul to Nuit Debout in Paris. Inspired by the Arab Spring earlier that year—and by the iconic image of an occupied Tahrir Square in particular—protesters in different parts of the world took possession of public spaces in order to oppose the austerity measures of their governments, to challenge the power of financial industries and economic elites, and to voice their widely shared experience of a democratic deficit. I emphasize from the outset that there are many, and often very substantial, demographic, cultural, economic, and political differences among these various occupy movements and among the contexts in which they intervened. There is thus no particular reason to assume, as some enthusiastic commentators suggested at the time, that they were all exponents of a single global movement (Hardt & Negri, 2012; Mason, 2011). But it is also clear, on the other hand, that they often expressed a strong sense of solidarity with each other, and referred to each another as important sources of inspiration (Graeber, 2013, p. 237). Notwithstanding the many differences between these movements, they did share at least a number of important points in common. What, then, did these movements have in common—next to the obvious but important fact that they all involved the occupation of public space (Harvey, 2012, pp. 161–162)? First, in most cases conventional political organizations or institutions played a minor role, if any, in these mass mobilizations. None was spearheaded by established political parties or politicians (Tormey, 2015, p. 8) and they often had a strikingly diverse composition (Juris, 2012, p. 265). Most categorically refused to negotiate or even engage with any representative institutions or public bodies (Klein, 2011). One possible explanation for this, second, is that many of these movements had strong horizontalist aspirations (Sitrin, 2012) and advocated direct or participatory forms of politics, organization and decision-making. Finally, not only did they propose an alternative view of democracy, but they also put it in practice: a significant aspect of their shared repertoire was that these movements sought to prefigure a radical form of democracy (Bray, 2013, p. 190; Douzinas, 2013, pp. 158–160; Hardt & Negri, 2017, pp. 274–275; Maeckelbergh, 2016; Pickerill & Krinsky, 2012; Smucker, 2014; Van de Sande, 2013; Yates, 2015). By organizing in general assemblies and spokes-councils, for example, they tried to realize, in the here and now, the kind of radical social change that they aspired to bring about on the long term (Graeber, 2013). These movements’ refusal to engage with existing parties and institutions, their horizontalist or direct democratic aspirations, and their attempt to prefigure these ideals in their general assemblies and consensual decision-making procedures, have all contributed to the widespread idea that they were opposed to any form of political representation. Indeed, many prominent political philosophers and social movement theorists have promoted this view of recent occupy movements. My claim, however, is that this reading is too quick. Not only is it far from certain that all these movements dismissed political representation tout court, but upon closer inspection it becomes clear that both in their rhetoric and practical organization they employed various forms of representation and of making representative claims. In fact, these movements also played a significant representative on their own part, which remains undertheorized in the current debate. What concepts of representation are implied here? And what lessons for democracy, strategy, and social movement politics may we derive from them? To answer these questions and to shift the academic debate on these occupy movements, I reconstruct two concepts of representation that can be encountered in the practices and rhetoric of occupy movements such as OWS and the 15-M movement. I focus on one concept of representation in particular that I think is the key to an adequate understanding of contemporary social movements, but that is not sufficiently theorized in the existing literature on these movements: namely, the idea of synecdochal representation, where one of the constituent parts stands for a larger whole. To address these questions I make the following argumentative steps. In Section 2, I briefly review the contemporary academic debate on occupy movements and their relation to political representation. Should the statements and practices of movements such as OWS indeed be regarded as a rejection of representation, as both their critics and advocates claim, or is their repertoire with at least some forms of In Section I to the academic literature on political representation and it is far from obvious what representation from on representation, I two different of representation, which are both representation as on the one hand, and representation as or larger on the In Section I these to the politics of recent occupy movements, and both are as as in their practices and In Section I the concept of representation as on a particular form of representation that I think is the key to understanding of recent occupy movements and their representative role, but that remains undertheorized in the current namely, synecdochal representation. I to the of employed this concept at various in but a of concept of synecdochal representation and political I it in the of recent occupy movements in Section the of the occupy movements in 2011 and the following years, their and the among and is to these movements or their and or to their of representative democracy in current My is if we are to and this and political we to a and of representation and the political that it may the of movements as Occupy Wall Street is an in we can no make as we for change in the power and we can no to their we are a of what democracy this to one another to is a to and the that direct we the power p. many of the statements and by these occupy movements, is to various to many political philosophers and social movement it that OWS representative to the image of democracy a direct or participatory form of democracy, which is with representative democracy in current One may to this that the for a radical or participatory form of democracy was expressed even in their to prefigure such in 2013, p. p. with consensual decision-making and forms of public (Bray, 2013; 2012; and alternative also to their own to in the occupy with of 2015, p. and pp. & 2013). In these movements tried to their of a democratic in the here and de Sande, 2013, p. is what democracy another prominent by these occupy movements, thus can be referred to the forms and practices that these movements the as OWS it in their their occupied as a in all the it in the and even are not as of political but as of a general rejection of the of representation. & p. here is that representative democracy is an categorically the from in the political (Hardt & Negri, pp. p. democracy, on the other hand, a horizontalist of organization and a rejection of democracy and the of that such of (Sitrin, 2012, p. also Mason, p. horizontalist or that the occupy movements expressed in both their practices and rhetoric is thus not in with political the two are this is shared by some of these movements’ most prominent for example, that their to engage with any representative institutions or a of the as a of a of and by pp. a their horizontalist aspirations a understanding of in general p. also pp. that a democracy political are the of and representative p. What these movements to is the fact that are no to the representative institutions and I with these critics that it is and to democratic on a rejection of all representative p. I not think that recent occupy movements such as OWS and the categorically any form of political I that their political repertoire was of making all forms of representative claims. are we to make sense of these movements’ practices and such as are the is what democracy or even at least some concept of political representation 2015, p. In the of this I a concepts of representation that I think are to these movements. But briefly on the various and of What is we at the term is employed both in academic and political it may that it and in of these various of the term representation are but their and are very p. these various two different that can be as a to that in other p. 2013, pp. pp. In and for example, representation may be as or What is in this is the particular relation in which a particular representative it a a or a or even in to this form of representation as idea of or the idea of of or in the and the idea of as a on in with the of p. representation as for an this is not the in any a certain of is to as the of political representation on the of a representative and to the or of a particular or that both and at a certain from the In the of representative as a representative be to one the other p. concept of representation is for in understanding of representative all the also have a term as or is in the in for a or or a of can be to other or larger to such forms of representation as not a or a it to what a representative an understanding of what a representative it a an or a it be to p. Spanish or were the in many recent occupy to this representation, and to both concepts of both as for and in the academic debate on political representation the two to be both at a and a practical there are important to a between these forms of representation. the most significant between representation as for and representation as for is that the often an and a certain of between the representative and the In the of the thus be the is to the as in the on the other hand, a often to to make it by their it is not in p. is a is to not to an that be or bring that did not as to is not a of to or to what it stands and what to a be as to as p. of in other is a that also the of certain or that which is in a relation of representation not this relation as There is no or the particular or that representation as for that there is an and can be in a or representation as a for that the not it is the of a representative or relation pp. the political of representation as for is that representation as for is of no political theorists of political representation, such as and have that representation as for an important in the of political and p. that making of or of what is to be is a aspect of political By a particular image of or what they to this or not that this no is a But the political in the of making of p. representation as for is an pp. p. any representative is of own in that it be in a particular in it and the other the of and from such of as for thus can be as a of & p. is a political one may there is a between various possible To one or be at the of to put it in and any representation to is to the of to the of to a & p. then, did the practices of recent occupy movements such as the and OWS indeed of any form of political many of their advocates and critics And if can these various forms of political representation as for and for be in their rhetoric and we have the of recent occupy movements is often as of a of political representation tout & p. Hardt & Negri, 2012, pp. 2013, pp. 2015, p. is clear that these movements were of representative democracy in current But that we have between different forms of political representation, we may their politics indeed a rejection of all forms of One important of the politics of these occupy movements, to is that both in their rhetoric and practices they sought to representative democracy with a direct or of general forms of and horizontalist decision-making are to a of what democracy be (Graeber, 2013, p. may that these movements were at least very of representation as idea that some may be to and in But if we at both their rhetoric and their these movements to have a understanding of representation as for example, the OWS at the of Section this a between democracy and representative democracy as we it it also for their to the p. the that there are to for or on of the in a or sufficiently democratic OWS a for in this in of the OWS p. that both political parties in the the we the are of the it that these occupy movements often employed various forms of political representation in example, a the occupation of general was as the most important of decision-making by a (Bray, 2013). be by from each was among the of each and each had a to voice only the (Graeber, 2013, p. to these were not in the sense they the of the (Bray, 2013, p. But it be to that or an is a form of representation as for that an and a very of forms of representation are by no with organization or even decision-making. and radical democratic theorists have that radical democracy various forms of or 2015, p. pp. p. pp. the of forms of very to the of and 2012, p. 2014; Smucker, 2017, pp. is not such can be to an but they can be and These movements’ with and participatory forms of organization may have to a different idea of democracy, but this a of representation as What is many of these movements’ have to engage with conventional forms of politics their had to an One obvious is the Spanish which in the of the 15-M movement and had at both the and the & pp. and this to an was no a 2015, pp. is that even some involved with the 15-M movement have to an particular at the In the Spanish for example, took in the of a public which in the of & as as (Graeber, also pp. are representative in the is to of political to of and thus a direct 2017, p. widespread that the politics of these movements the very of representation thus to be & p. closer inspection it that many forms of representation as for were employed by these movements. that their radical democratic practices and be as a for and direct and participatory representation to the current of the 2017, p. there is also a to be not only did these movements’ and organization certain forms of representation as but in some they also an important representative in their own such as OWS and the did not or to any or to or make on of a larger of But they did as political in at least some To this, however, we to to the second, concept of representation that I namely, representation as or politics of a social movement any form of representation is and an important not only a or to the but also derive a sense of and from the most may any form of representation, not that their own or their stands for recent occupy movements were no to to the OWS the is of representative democracy in current But the also that the p. And this the in political least that the this stands for a and not in the of in Park 2015, p. can be of other prominent movement such as are the and a strong representative that to a larger of and not to are at the of 2015, p. practices of these occupy movements implied a representative the general alternative decision-making and all for My claim, is that the particular form of political representation, is in the and rhetoric of these occupy movements. representation as this form of representation is not with their radical democratic aspirations or as many social movement theorists and political philosophers In fact, I that it is it is implied in their direct democratic In the of this I to a particular concept of representation as for that is at namely, a synecdochal concept of representation. I this particular form of representation is key to an understanding of the recent occupy movements. as for a representation as of or of all other or larger as this form of representation also a political is of in the of representation as for is a where a representative to or and on of the representation as for is a a movement from to and a one from representative to p. also p. is also a political in order to any and thus at the of & pp. of political representation, often to this concept of representation as a for 2013, p. In of political representation, on the image of the a form of that other such as and the differences between and to are established & p. this of an in of representation p. a of the to this are this concept can be to the representative and practices of recent occupy movements, we thus to reconstruct the often of the in of representation. But what the it is from other of such as the and the and it is in a of political representation. may be regarded as a of 2015, p. we by between and the is on or the of a example, in radical it is to to as is a the in not to relation between and is on or of their of this is or is is that are In on the other hand, the relation between the and the be by a particular are Wall Street or the as to the financial or to a particular of the In both cases there is a direct and relation between is as the of financial the in the but the term as a not this a relation in that it is on a But there is one in a synecdochal relation the is a of the larger that it a such as have to or the of as a to are of a and are a of their an to the between and p. are on But this also that representation can be established only as a or relation p. it is on many different can be to a single To to the many not from the may be to the of There is no particular reason the between the and to such an established in and have the But the fact is in order to as a had to these other possible and thus had to as the only or most for the to be it is one among many is very different for the as we have is on a that as a in a relation is to the that it and the relation between thus for with a of politics what the or can be in to the the of a not on to other possible it remains a far as is however, this also that the only a for and In a of a particular representation of upon the of as a representation of as a whole. own and an p. and of a social that remains an pp. with however, is that they are on one of many possible and that the of one relation not at the of we was the with thus the that is to a political representation pp. To a to some of p. p. is where the of the becomes a particular to this de the as of the that an between and p. p. from this the is not a of the it a between these other in that it a relation between and that is particular that upon the p. to or for a larger is the only that this p. & p. to as a synecdochal on to be as the only at the most obvious and representation. synecdochal representation the of a pp. an image of the for by a concept of the that be or even possible p. but that as the of this and thus to it as far as is this is the of the forms the for understanding of political it one representative or relation can a larger at the time, it p. 2015, pp. these and not as are as two different of this in a have a particular shared or can be and in own they a their p. their is by the long as this remains an it not to a But that this is only one among many different claims. that of other or have also this may to the of a social their shared experience of or their with the in and a sense of which is by a shared understanding or of the which as p. of a social not only these but to a different of their to the of a larger of in which all the in of their to what we an p. Notwithstanding the differences between these and their particular or their shared experience of and their the of a social to a or between these various and of however, to in a particular a of these various not be representation of an only possible if a particular own also as a the as a p. also pp. By of public or for example, one particular to the thus for a of or First, the of the two of and a certain between is the of the in this they to be the of at a and a of in the of a the term becomes the of a it no the of an be in all and becomes the of a social only is the of that in a pp. What we is a particular or to for a at the in to What this however, is that the of a also the of or claims. here not only the or of an but a a particular of or other and and a view of these be In it to for a political then, can concept of synecdochal representation to the politics of recent occupation is far from obvious to in this both p. and have these movements for their refusal to engage with representative My claim, however, is that their be employed in an of these very movements and their practices & p. In the I a of these movements established such synecdochal both and have of occupy movements such as OWS and the Spanish 15-M I that their can be employed to a understanding of these movements and their political repertoire p. concept of the in can to the forms of political representation that were implied in these movements’ practices and a on example, of is that of are the was by in in which that only of a of the and that it of the on contributed to the of the idea that be between a and a (Graeber, 2013, p. this of from the of by a that their of or and were all by the the these were all of many different and the suggested that all these had important in common. in a single or all the all the this idea of the that they a the I in the also suggested a representative is representative for what we all are of the obvious differences between In this the and the idea of a what and an between various and on the of a and experience that they all to have in common. shared which be in of or to a of and thus to a p. is the of occupation in these movements’ One shared by many of these movements is that the public in the sense of a and in the sense of a public In all parts of the world public spaces and are and this in many to the of an and concept of occupation of public space was not a but in one or the other, the occupied space was also often at 2015, p. it is no that the occupation of space played such an important for various movements the which all space as public occupied what is and the of to and as a 2015, p. Gezi Park was occupied in of the to to the of and of to another example, is not only only a from Wall but it is also a public space that the of this is a widespread and the occupation of a single very to the the of public But it a of the of public space in of in and to a for as a in for a whole. In this the that stands for is a on the one hand, on the other, a with the 2012, p. a that direct democratic decision-making and horizontalist were to a or at the very least a of and what a be (Graeber, 2013, p. also p. pp. not that these movements or to direct democratic decision-making we have their repertoire often various forms of representation as But the is by with alternative forms of organization and these movements did to their for a participatory and form of democracy we have in general and other by these movements, a larger of and is not that the synecdochal form of representation as an for these practices larger p. of their of representative democracy in current the practices of movements are In other the in which their practices and for a social or or occupation of public the of decision-making and the of a synecdochal they were representative and such as is what democracy are the or these with a particular synecdochal and is the of these statements that these to for larger a particular concept of democracy, a of the or the What is the and of political representation in the repertoire of occupy movements, such as OWS and the 15-M the of these movements in 2011 this a of debate among political theorists and social movement advocates and critics of these movements have that their horizontalist aspirations, their radical democratic rhetoric and their all a rejection of political representation I if we to these movements’ of political representation we be to various and representation as for on the one hand, and representation as for on the often an and some of between the representative and the as on the other hand, is a form of representation in which the a particular the of representation. I that both forms of representation were in fact employed by these occupy movements: representation as for can be encountered in their of and as on the other hand, can be in the these movements a idea of they for and what they aspired to in the of such synecdochal can be in their practices on the one occupation of public the general in their rhetoric and is what democracy are the the to these movements’ and practices as of political representation is the these to that representation as for not any the of representative be and And a synecdochal form of representation, in which a to for a larger sufficiently to and may it or even forms of Finally, if the politics of recent occupy movements indeed of many forms of political representation, their of representative democracy in current be To if not a direct or participatory form of democracy, did these movements their and practices indeed as a for and direct and participatory 2017, p. what this alternative view of democracy in the of these movements, many of these questions to be One a of these however, is that we the that various forms of representation played in these movements’ politics and we be to lessons from their on the of democracy and social movement de is in at are radical democratic political representation, and contemporary movements.

Nicolas Thompson

This dissertation analyzes the institutional development and policy performance of the Federal Reserve System from 1913-1968. Whereas existing scholarship assumes Federal Reserve institutions have remained static since 1913, this project demonstrates that the Federal Reserve was a site of extensive institutional experimentation across its first half century of operations. The 1913 Federal Reserve Act created thirteen autonomous agencies without offering guidance regarding how these units should function as a coherent system. The extent to which this institutional jumble congealed into a central bank-like organization has fluctuated over time. Institutional changes were driven by external shocks and shaped by an ongoing internal debate about normative systemic governance. Some agents called for greater institutional centralization to increase the system’s strategic capacity. Others drew upon shared liberal ideals to defend the system’s decentralized governance traditions. These debates resulted in frequent reconstitutions of the policy-making regime. This dissertation argues the Fed’s temporally-specific institutional configurations were consequential for United States monetary and exchange rate policies. During periods of relatively centralized Federal Reserve governance, internationally-oriented agents wielded control over the system’s policy-making levers to help stabilize the dollar’s exchange rate. During periods of institutional fragmentation, by contrast, monetary policies grew increasingly rigid, promoting dollar instability. Consequently, the structure of American central banking institutions has important implications for both the domestic and international political economies. This project suggests that insights from the positive study of institutions should be applied to the design of central banking institutions. Although institutional fragmentation can check arbitrary power, it likewise can paralyze the policy-making process and undermine the formation and steady pursuit of long-term strategic goals.

Nicholas Carnes

If millionaires in the United States formed their own political party, that party would make up just three percent of the country, but it would have a majority in the House of Representatives, a filibuster-proof super-majority in the Senate, a 5:4 majority on the Supreme Court, and a man in the White House. If working-class Americans—people employed in manual-labor and service-industry jobs—were a political party, that party would have made up more than half of the country since the start of the twentieth century. But legislators from that party (those who last worked in blue-collar jobs before getting into politics) would never have held more than two percent of the seats in Congress. In the last few years, scholars of US politics have started taking a renewed interest in what I call white-collar government,1 the disproportionate numerical representation of wealthy people and white-collar professionals in our political institutions. Political scientists are once again asking how government by the upper class affects public policy in the United States. And they're starting to ask why our representative process consistently gives us such economically unrepresentative slates of politicians. By virtually any measure of class or social attainment, the average policy maker in the United States is vastly better off than the average citizen. The size of the social gap between citizens and their representatives varies somewhat across different political institutions and depends in part on how we measure class or economic standing. In general, though, politicians tend to be drawn overwhelmingly from the top strata of American society. For example, members of Congress—the branch of the federal government often touted as most closely reflecting the nation's diversity—are considerably more privileged than the people who elect them. Lawyers and business owners make up approximately 10 percent of the population but constitute at least half of both chambers. Almost every member today is a college graduate, a distinction held by just one in three Americans (Ruggles et a1. 2009). And the median net worth of members of Congress is approximately $1.5 million (Center for Responsive Politics 2014), roughly eleven times the median net worth of American families. These imbalances are by no means recent developments (e.g., Domhoff 1967; Matthews 1954a; 1954b; 1985; Mills 1956; Pessen 1984; Zeller 1954). They have persisted, moreover, even as other underrepresented groups have begun to break through the glass ceiling. Figure 1 plots the percentage of members of Congress who served between 1901 and 1996 who were women, racial or ethnic minorities, and who were from the working class (that is, who last worked as manual laborers, service industry workers, or union officials before entering politics). Although women and minorities were still underrepresented at the end of the twentieth century, both groups gained considerable ground during the postwar period. In sharp contrast, working-class Americans—who have made up more than half of the labor force for at least the last hundred years (even after that Information Revolution of the late-20th century)—have never held more than two percent of the seats in Congress. The Demographic Makeup of the United States Congress, 1901–96 Source: Carnes 2012. This long-standing feature of American political life doesn't seem to be going anywhere any time soon. Data on the makeup of state and local institutions—which tend to foreshadow demographic changes in national offices—suggest that, if anything, working-class representation may decline even further in the short term. In state legislatures, for instance, women's representation skyrocketed from 8 percent to 24 percent between 1976 and 2007, and the share of lawmakers who were Black or Latino grew from 9 percent to 11 percent. During the same period, the share of state legislators from blue-collar jobs fell from 5 percent to 3 percent (National Conference of State Legislatures 2011). The path to political office has always been difficult for the working class, and it doesn't seem to be getting any easier. The Framers of the U.S. Constitution were skeptical about the importance of a politician's economic or social class background. In Federalist #35, Alexander Hamilton defended government by the privileged (see, for instance, Lewis 1961; Manin 1997), arguing that blue-collar workers “know that the merchant is their natural patron and friend; and they are aware that however great the confidence they may justly feel in their own good sense, their interests can be more effectually promoted by the merchant than by themselves.” Why should it matter whether the people who represent us come from one background or another? Workers and business owners both want economic prosperity, so what's the harm in letting the upper class call the shots? This rosy take on government by the privileged has been an important part of American political thought ever since. Campaigns and candidates routinely invoke “slogans such as president Calvin Coolidge's ‘the business of the nation is business’ or Charles E. Wilson's (Eisenhower's secretary of defense and a former executive at General Motors) statement that ‘what was good for the country was good for General Motors and vice versa’” (Witko and Friedman 2008, 72). Unfortunately, the idea that class doesn't matter in our political institutions appears to be flat wrong. Scholars of public opinion have known for decades that Americans from different classes have different views about economic issues, that working-class Americans tend to be more progressive, and that the wealthy tend to want government to play a smaller role in economic affairs (e.g., Gilens 2009; Hout 2008; Keely and Tan 2008; Manza and Brooks 2008; Rehm 2010). Politicians seem to be no exception. Like ordinary citizens, politicians from different classes tend to have different personal views about economic issues. And because politicians often have some discretion—their hands aren't always tied by parties, citizens, and interest groups (Burden 2007)—they sometimes base their choices in office on their own views about the issues before them. In Congress, for instance, legislators who had working-class jobs before being elected tend to have more progressive personal views about economic issues, tend to introduce more progressive economic proposals and work harder to pass them, and tend to cast more progressive votes on economic bills (Carnes 2012; 2013). Figure 2 plots data from the Chamber of Commerce (America's largest business association) on how frequently members of Congress sided with business interests when voting on major economic proposals. The figure divides legislators according to the main occupations they held before serving in Congress: average voting scores for members who worked in profit-oriented white-collar jobs (like owning a business) are graphed at the top, service-oriented white-collar jobs (like teaching, law, or social work) are plotted next, and working-class jobs appear at the bottom. The pattern in the data is unmistakable. Like ordinary citizens, lawmakers from the working class tend to be more pro-worker, and lawmakers from white-collar jobs—especially profit-oriented jobs in the private sector—tend to be more pro-business (even when I control for a wide range of constituency and legislator characteristics). Class and Roll Call Voting in Congress, 1999–2008 Source: Carnes 2013. These social class divisions are remarkably consistent across different datasets. They appear in voting scores computed by other organizations, in data from different periods of American history, in data on other forms of legislative conduct like introducing bills, and in surveys of state and federal legislators' personal beliefs (Carnes 2013). They are also mirrored in other studies that use different measures of class and privilege. Members of Congress from specific white-collar occupations like business (Witko and Friedman 2008) and law (Eulau and Sprauge 1964; Miller 1995) tend to vote differently on legislation that affects their industries. Legislators who have more money invested in stocks are more likely to vote to protect the markets (Grose 2013). Wealthier legislators are more likely to vote against the estate tax (Griffin and Anewalt-Remsburg 2013). Legislators with more wealth and education are more likely to support bills that increase economic inequality (Kraus and Callaghan 2014). However we define class or privilege, it seems to matter in our legislatures. Like ordinary citizens, lawmakers who are well off themselves are more likely to support policies that protect the well off. And these class-based differences in individual legislative conduct can have dramatic consequences in the aggregate. Figure 3 plots data from 1993 and 1995 on the social class makeups of state legislatures against data on the percentages of states' budgets devoted to social welfare programs (top panel), the generosity of unemployment benefits in each state (middle panel), and the tax rate on corporations in each state (bottom panel). State legislatures with more working-class members devote more of their resources to social safety net programs and tax corporations at higher rates. States with more business owners and executives in their legislatures spend less on welfare, provide lower levels of unemployment benefits, and tax companies at lower rates (Carnes 2013, ch. 5). Economic Policy and the Social Class Makeup of State Legislatures, 1994–1996 Source: Carnes 2013, ch. 5. Note: Lines represent quadratic best-fit estimates (with 95 percent confidence intervals shaded gray). Welfare spending and corporate tax rate data are from 1994 and 1996; maximum weekly unemployment benefits data are from 2001. Of course, many other features of US politics mute our government's response to the needs of the working class, like the decline of labor unions and the recent and unprecedented surge in campaign spending (see Gilens in this debate). White-collar government isn't the only barrier to pro-worker policy in the United States—but it certainly belongs on the list.2 The rosy notion that lawmakers from business and professional backgrounds want what's best for everyone is seriously out of line with the realities of legislative decision making in the United States. The economic issues at stake in American politics often involve difficult trade-offs between the material well-being of different classes of citizens. And the scarcity of lawmakers from the working class ultimately tilts decisions about the distribution of economic resources, protections, and burdens in favor of the more conservative policies that affluent Americans tend to prefer. Government by the upper class promotes government for the upper class—and government for the upper class is often bad for everyone else. Why, then, are there so few working-class people in our political institutions in the first place? If the policy stakes are so high, why does our representative process consistently yield such an unrepresentative group of decision makers? Political scientists currently know more about the effects of government by the privileged in the United States than they do about the causes. However, a growing body of research seems to be ruling out several potential culprits—and implicating others. Probably the most common view among pundits and political observers is that white-collar government is something of a practical necessity in the United States. One popular version of this argument holds that government by the privileged is what Americans want, that white-collar professional rule in the U.S. because American voters prefer white-collar candidates. Another common and related view is that government by the upper class is what Americans need, that working-class people don't have the skills or qualifications required for holding office. The Pulitzer-prize-winning journalist William A. Henry III (1995, 21) summarized both when he wrote that “voters repeatedly reject insurrectionist candidates who parallel their own ordinariness […] in favor of candidates of proven character and competence.” Why are we governed by the rich? Many observers believe it's because the rich make better politicians—and voters know it. These arguments have deep historical roots in the United States. However, they've never found much support in hard data on U.S. politics. There has never been an empirical study that has shown that American voters prefer white-collar candidates. And there has never been a single study—not one—that has concluded that working-class people are underrepresented in public office because they are less qualified for the job. On average, members of Congress from the working class do almost exactly as well in elections as members from white-collar professions (Carnes n.d.). Experiments comparing hypothetical candidates from different classes reach identical conclusions. Sadin (2011) finds, for instance, that voters randomly assigned to evaluate a hypothetical candidate from the working class are just as likely to report that they would vote for him as those randomly assigned to evaluate an otherwise identical hypothetical candidate from an elite professional background. Far from “reject[ing] … candidate[s] who parallel their own ordinariness,” voters seem to like working-class candidates just fine. A shortage of qualified workers doesn't seem to be to blame, either. It's true that on average working-class Americans are less likely to have many of the personal qualities that promote success in politics or that we might want in our leaders: knowledge about public affairs, confidence that the political process can be used to achieve real change, “toleran[ce] of unpopular voices” (Verba 2003, 669), and so on. However, there are many more working-class people than there are white-collar professionals—so many more, in fact, that there are actually more blue-collar workers with many of these desirable characteristics than there are white-collar professionals (Carnes 2013, ch. 6). If even just half a percent of the blue-collar workers in the United States have the skills required for holding office, there would be enough of them to fill every seat in Congress and in every state legislature more than 40 times—with enough left over to run a few thousand city councils. Something other than voters and qualifications seems to be responsible for the shortage of working-class citizens in American political institutions. Scholars haven't yet confirmed exactly what that is, but we're starting to make some headway. Building on research on other historically underrepresented groups like women (e.g., Crowder-Meyer 2010; Lawless and Fox 2005; 2010; Sanbonmatsu 2002; 2006), the nascent scholarship on the shortage of working-class Americans in public office is beginning to find evidence that workers are underrepresented not because of some deficiency on their part, but because of discouraging circumstances, like the practical burdens associated with holding office and the gatekeeping decisions of party leaders and interest groups. In places where holding office is less burdensome and in places where workers are better integrated into parties and interest groups, workers tend to hold office in larger numbers. Figure 4 illustrates this point with data on the share of working-class Americans in state legislatures (from Figure 3). In states with more professionalized legislatures—that is, where holding office takes more time and energy—fewer workers hold office. In states where working-class citizens make up larger shares of party and campaign volunteers, workers tend to hold office in larger numbers. And in states where unions are stronger, workers are more likely to lead (Carnes n.d.; see also Carnes forthcoming; Sojourner 2013). The factors that keep workers out of office don't seem to have to do with voters or with the supposed shortcomings of the working class itself. They seem to have far more to do with the structural features of the political landscape that have captivated scholars of U.S. politics for decades: parties, institutions, and interest groups. What Predicts Working-class Representation in State Legislatures? Source: Carnes n.d. These findings are still preliminary, of course—there simply hasn't been much research on this topic yet. Scholars still need to develop a complete account of the individual behavioral or psychological factors keeping workers from running and winning (e.g., differences in resources, ambition, recruitment, etc.). We need to link those factors to the structural features of the political environment that give rise to them, like the high cost of running an election, the weakness of labor unions in the US, and so on. We need to think through and identify the causal relationship between these factors and working-class representation. And we need to think about change over time. Many of these structural factors are changing in ways that probably discourage working-class office holding—elections are getting more expensive and unions are getting weaker. Holding office was always challenging for workers (see Figure 1), but it may be getting even harder. Scholars need to understand how these changes are affecting the already difficult process of transitioning from a working-class job to a career in politics. Reformers do, too. In the last few years, activists have started taking an unprecedented interest in government by the privileged. In the 1990s, the New Jersey AFL-CIO launched a “candidate school” to identify, recruit, and train working-class citizens to run for public office. Since then, similar working-class candidate training programs have been launched in California, Connecticut, Maine, Nevada, New York, and Oregon—and more are on the way (Carnes 2013, ch. 6). Programs like these are premised on the same basic ideas that are emerging from the scholarly research on the factors keeping working-class Americans out of office, namely, that there are many qualified working-class Americans out there, that workers do well in elections when they run, and that electing more workers will tilt economic policy toward the progressive policies that workers tend to support and away from the conservative policies favored by America's rich. However, scholars and practitioners still have a lot to learn about why the United States has a white-collar government—and what we can do about it. Nicholas Carnes is Assistant Professor of Public Policy at the Sanford School of Public Policy at Duke University. His research focuses on U.S. politics, legislative decision making, representation, social class, economic inequality, and state and local politics. His new book White-Collar Government: The Hidden Role of Class in Economic Policy Making examines how the shortage of people from the working class in American legislatures skews the policymaking process towards outcomes that are more in line with the upper class's economic interests. He is also starting a large-scale study on the factors that discourage working-class Americans from holding public office and the programs that could help to address the shortage of working-class Americans in our political institutions.

Richard Schragger, William A. Fischel

In his ambitious new book, William Fischel, a Professor of Economics at Dartmouth College, gives us a new political animal: "The Homevoter." The homevoter is simply a homeowner who votes (p. ix). According to Fischel, she is the key to understanding the political economy of American local government. By implication, she is the key to understanding state and national government as well. Homeowners warrant special attention because "residents who own their own homes have a stake in the outcome of local politics that make them especially attentive to the public policies of local government" (p. ix). That is because local decisions - about how much to spend on schools or trash pick-up, for instance - directly affect home values in ways that most state or national decisions do not. The "homevoter hypothesis" is deceptively straightforward: decentralized, local governments provide a desirable balance of taxes and government services because the homevoter seeks to maintain or increase the value of her single largest asset - the family home (pp. 4-6). The homevoter explains why local governments "work better at providing local services than do larger-area governments" (p. x). This plausible sounding thesis has its roots deep in the decentralizing tradition of public finance theory. The idea that multiple local governments provide government services more efficiently than does a centralized government originated with Charles Tiebout's seminal article, A Pure Theory of Local Expenditures. Tiebout's solution to the problem of how to ensure the proper level of expenditures on public goods was to posit a market in public services. In his model, multiple local governments offer distinctive tax and spending packages, and "consumer-voters" choose to reside in jurisdictions that best fit their preferences, exiting those jurisdictions that do not. The notion that consumers of public goods "vote with their feet" by choosing where to live has become something of an economic maxim.

Richard Briffault

Localism and regionalism are normally seen as conflicting, conceptions of metropolitan area governance. Localism is the belief that the existing system of a large number of relatively small governments wielding power over such critical matters as land use regulation, local taxation, and the financing of local public services ought to be preserved. Regionalism would move some power to institutions, organizations or procedures with a larger territorial scope and more population than existing local governments. Regionalism appears to be a step towards centralization, and the antithesis of the decentralization represented by localism. Yet, in the metropolitan areas that dominate America at the end of the twentieth century, regionalism is not just the enemy of localism: It is also localism's logical extension. Localism is based on a set of arguments concerning the role of local governments in promoting governmental efficiency, democracy, and community. But in contemporary metropolitan areas, the economically, socially, and ecologically relevant local area is often the region. In these areas, concerns about efficiency, democracy, and community ought to lead to a shift in power from existing localities to new processes, structures, or organizations that can promote decision-making on behalf of the region. Regionalism is, thus, localism for metropolitan areas. Localists, however, do not become regionalists when they live in metropolitan areas. Indeed, resistance to regionalism is intense in many metropolitan areas. Localism is not simply a theory intended to advance certain normative goals. It is also a means of protecting the interests of those who receive advantages from the existing governance structure. Local self-interest, rather than the political values localism is said to advance, plays a central role in the opposition to regionalism. This essay explores the relationship between localism and regionalism. It considers the meaning of regionalism in contemporary urban policy debates and the reasons why regionalism currently enjoys so much attention from academics, urbanists and policy analysts. It reviews the arguments for localism, and explains how, despite the asserted conflict between localism and regionalism, the theories underlying localism actually make a case for regionalism in contemporary metropolitan areas. Finally, it examines the role of local self-interest in the resistance to regionalism, and the efforts of regionalists to respond by making the case for regionalism in terms of local self-interest as well.