Failing to recognize the hyperindividualist slant of our public discourse emanates, at least in part, from our broader failure
to distinguish between positive and negative liberty in setting our expectations of the law's function in the social order.
Negative, or “freedom from,” forms of liberty recognize claims of entitlement to noninterference with one's pursuit of the
good, however the good is defined by the pursuer. Positive, or “freedom to,” forms of liberty contemplate claims of entitlement
to affirmative support from the surrounding society for the pursuit of a particular good. In our morally pluralist society,
individuals' conceptions of the good will often conflict, and thus attempts by the state to embrace all conceptions of positive
liberty would be contradictory and self-defeating. Just as the state cannot support equal distribution of wealth and the right
to private property, for example, the state cannot support an unfettered right among pharmacists to conscience along with
an unfettered right among customers to all legal pharmaceuticals on demand. As a result, positive liberty usually requires
the state to adopt certain conceptions of the good and reject others.
In the current dispute, the predominance of positive liberty is evident in the advocacy of both the consumers and the pharmacists.
On the consumer side, the cause of reproductive rights has evolved from one of negative liberty – seeking to prevent the state
from criminalizing abortion or contraception – to an extreme form of positive liberty – asking not only to have the full range
of legal pharmaceuticals available at every pharmacy, but to insist on their availability with “no hassle, no delay, no lecture.”
54 The problem, in a society that values pluralism, is that positive
liberty claims conflate legality with universal availability. The fact that the state does not forbid a drug's sale is taken
to mean that every licensed pharmacist must sell that drug to every customer legally entitled to purchase it. This conflation
renders the moral convictions of pharmacists
and the moral identities of pharmacies irrelevant. The individual consumer does not just coexist with the morally divergent
views of the provider; the individual, backed up by state power, trumps the provider. All pharmacists are enlisted in the
service of a lowest-common-denominator approach to professional morality: All legal drugs are deemed morally permissible,
and providers have no standing to object. The individual preference has become the collective norm. By no means is this to
suggest that consumer access to morally controversial pharmaceutical products is not an important public value; the point
is to emphasize that requiring universal provision of all pharmaceuticals, rather than meaningful access to all pharmaceuticals,
imposes significant burdens on other public values, most notably a sense of moral agency among pharmacists.
On the provider side, the desire to exercise moral agency has led pharmacists to seek more than a negative liberty to protect
themselves against coercive state requirements that they dispense certain drugs; they also seek a positive liberty to restrain
nonstate private employers from punishing them for the professional byproducts of their moral convictions. In effect, pharmacists
ask the state to shield them from the marketplace fallout that would otherwise accompany their marketplace conduct. The importance
of professional space to exercise moral agency is beyond dispute, both in its public and personal aspects. As with consumer
access, there are costs to an absolutist defense of a professional's moral agency. One's conscience cannot always be given
authority over the contours of one's role; certain roles are not suited for certain consciences, and no one is compelled to
become a pharmacist.
A path to resolution must acknowledge more nuance than is shown in either of these positions. Yes, a consumer's access to
legal pharmaceutical products is, on balance, beneficial to society, as is a pharmacist's ability to take moral responsibility
for her professional conduct, but the legal order's collective enshrinement of either quality is not. One essential element
of a healthy civic life is acknowledging the relevance of our links to one another even (or especially) when those links are
partial or embodying normative ideals that are opposed by other segments of society. The legal status of the individual should
be a primary concern of, but not constitutive of, our ongoing conversations regarding the good.
Of course, the common identity that is facilitated by a for-profit pharmacy shaped in part by moral norms is hardly the stuff
of Tocquevillian dreams. Our nation's robust history of associational life conjures up images of the Knights of Columbus or
United Farm Workers, not monthly runs to refill a prescription. But the fact that consumers and pharmacists drawn to a particular
moral stance on controversial pharmaceutical products are unlikely to give rise to “thick” communities does not negate the
value of the collective life they do create. Ronald Dworkin gives the example of an orchestra's limited collective life, in
which “[a]lthough the
members view some of their individual activities as expressive of and constituted by the larger entity, they do not view all
or indeed most of their individual activities that way.”
55 Pharmacy patrons might be pulled in several different directions. A Roman Catholic might choose a pharmacy that sells the
morning-after pill despite what she hears from her bishop, as “different communities could each exert claims over different
parts of the individual's identity and sometimes exert conflicting claims over the same ones.”
56 Most of today's associational life is messier and more complex than the straightforward, all-encompassing enclaves of the
Amish, as most of us do not belong to a single community, but rather lie “at the intersection of many different ones.”
57 Even with the partial loyalties fostered by a morality-driven pharmacy landscape, the moral discourse is reinvigorated, and
individuals become active participants in cultivating their own moral environments, not just constituents asking that their
chosen norms be imposed on the whole.
To many, the travails of individualism do not pose a threat nearly as dire as the one posed by opening up pharmaceutical access
to market forces. Transcending individualism is a fine idea, the skeptic concedes, but not at the price of commodifying something
as personal as health care
, especially because the most controversial pharmacy issues center on women's reproductive health care, and because the commodification
takes the regulation of the issues out of a politically accountable central authority. As lawyer and bioethicist Alta Charo
remarked at the prospect of some pharmacies declining to offer contraceptives
, “We're talking about creating a separate universe of pharmacies that puts women at a disadvantage.”
58 In this regard, institutional liberty appears more threatening than individual liberty; as the American Civil Liberties Union
recommended in a report advocating for laws requiring pharmacies to satisfy any lawful request for birth control, “institutions,
when operating in the public world, ought to play by public rules.”
59
Further, the benefits to civil society may seem attenuated, as the cultivation of moral autonomy among what are primarily
large corporations strikes modern sensibilities as being of dubious importance.
60 Indeed, generally “commercial entities are not included within the purview of civil society.”
61 After all, unlike relationships that are “glued together by notions of reciprocal obligations and visions of common
destinies…[c]ommodified relationships…are instrumental in nature.”
62 Relationships centered in the pharmacy transaction may seem inescapably instrumental, especially because most large pharmacy
chains are ill suited to function as mediating structures that would foster deeper connections or a sense of reciprocal obligation
among consumers.
It is true that the moral discourse fostered by pharmacies’ profit-driven identities cannot match the richness of the discourse
nurtured within thicker communities such as families, churches, and voluntary associations organized deliberately around a
set of normative claims. That is not to say that the moral discourse occurring in the marketplace is somehow nonexistent or
inauthentic. Timothy Fort's work has pointed out that although “businesses do not necessarily nourish solidarity, compassion,
empathy, and respect for others,” “[s]aying that businesses are not necessarily mediating institutions does not mean…that
they cannot become mediating institutions.”
63 Indeed, as Harold Laski famously put it nearly 100 years ago, a corporation has “a personality that is self-created, and
not state-created,” and corporations are “in relations with the state, a part of it; but one with it they are not.”
64 This personality “follows from the corporation's mediating function: through incorporation individuals can achieve a sanctioned
object, whether economic, moral or intellectual.”
65 The place of the corporation in a society that takes conscience seriously is the focus of the next chapter. For now, suffice
to say that if we understand civil society as “an inherently moral term that implies the existence of social and moral obligations
that exist independent of the individual and operate upon him,”
66 there is no reason that a pharmacy landscape defined in part by moral convictions cannot be encompassed within its reach.
If the state stays out of the battle over pharmacists and conscience, pharmacies – from small mom-and-pop operations to national
chains such as CVS and Walgreen's – will have the space to build moral claims into their corporate
identities. Customers and employees alike will have the opportunity to come together in support of a moral stance with which
they agree. For the employee pharmacists, this coming
together will be significant, dissipating the tension between their personal beliefs and professional calling. For customers,
although the coming together will occupy only a small segment of their identities, it will represent a mediating function
that is now largely absent. By supporting a pharmacy based at least in part on the pharmacy's treatment of controversial drugs
and/or treatment of its pharmacists' moral qualms about such drugs, the customer's day-to-day existence will become more closely
aligned with her beliefs and values, even if only incrementally. Especially to the extent that the pharmacist's and customer's
beliefs and values are not predominant in the wider community, the pharmacy performs a mediating function in the purest sense,
serving as a vehicle for shared expression, purpose, identity, and meaning. The distance between traditional civil society
stalwarts and commercial health care providers dealing in morally charged products is not as great as it might seem.
Just as individual autonomy should not be the sole object of our conversations regarding the good, the state should not be
the exclusive audience for, or arbiter of, those conversations. We must recognize that “[w]hen mediating and moderating associations
collapse, human passion asserts itself through power, not reasoned argument and consensual interaction.”
67 In this regard, there is a necessary corollary to our recognition of the moral marketplace
's power to transcend the domain of the atomistic individual: The moral marketplace does not subjugate the individual to the
collective will. If anything, it creates space for individual human flourishing by reining in attempts to harness collective
power to a particular conception of individual well-being.
Replacing collective political determinations with market determinations is not an obvious path to ideal policy outcomes.
James Boyd White, for example, cautions us “not to abandon our collective powers of judgment, as the marketplace metaphor
invites us to do,” because “[d]espite what we say about the ‘marketplace of ideas,’ we also know, if we allow ourselves to
reflect on it, that we simply cannot trust any such process to winnow out the bad and promote the good.”
68
Nor can we rely on the marketplace to winnow out the false and promote the true, at least when it comes to religious and moral
convictions. Justice Holmes, who pioneered the marketplace approach to free speech in his famous dissent in
Abrams v. United States, presumed that “the best test of truth is the power of the thought to get itself accepted in the competition of the market.”
69 The relative marketplace
successes of pharmacies that do or do not offer the morning-after pill, or that do or do not force their employees to dispense
the morning-after pill, will do little to bring consensus as to the “truth” of the moral claims made regarding the pill or
the sanctity of pharmacists
' consciences. As Stanley Ingber observes, “if the possibility of rational discourse and discovery is negated by [individuals
'] entrenched and irreconcilable perceptions of truth, the dominant ‘truth’ discovered by the marketplace can result only
from the triumph of power, rather than the triumph of reason.”
70 The ends of this market power are not always noble. After all, market forces catapulted “shock jock” Howard Stern to the
heights of cultural influence; do we really want those same forces unleashed with respect to health care? Which values, in
the end, will rule the marketplace, and which values will be marginalized once stripped of support from collective ordering?
One reassurance stems from the fact that the current project is not directed toward the establishment of communes devoted
to the all-encompassing embodiment of a contested norm. Pharmacies are not equipped or positioned to transform wholly the
worldviews of their customers. As such, the constraints on a pharmacy's mediating function are also constraints on the corrosive
effects of a pharmacy's embrace of any particular norm. But a more fundamental reassessment of the marketplace threat requires
us to recognize that the current trend toward collectively enshrining individual autonomy as an absolute value (on the consumer
or pharmacist side) already reflects normative claims of dubious social value. The problem is that this trend merges the atomistic
individual with the collective power of state authority, effectively barring divergent (i.e., nonindividualist) conceptions
of meaningful autonomy. The pharmacist's conscience must be honored, period. The pharmacy customer must have maximum access
to all legal pharmaceuticals, period. The space between the individual and the collective has been swallowed up.
This intermediate space is where the moral marketplace does its work, and much of that work is aimed at constructing bulwarks
against the encroachments of the state. That this work may not result in a broader discernment of truth is immaterial because
the state's elevation of a single contested conception of individual autonomy also has little relation to truth. Morally distinct
pharmacies give individuals room to experience and act on divergent worldviews and priorities, whether or not their aim is
to reach any consensus via the political apparatus of the collective.
Contrary to popular conceptions of the phrase's origins, Justice Holmes never actually used the phrase “marketplace of ideas,”
in his landmark
Abrams dissent, and his actual phrase, “competition of the market,” may suggest a concern not with markets’ “celebration of discretionary
choice, but rather [with] the harsh fact that
economic actors and their products are pitted against one another.”
71 Vincent Blasi extrapolates from this to draw out the lesson for free speech theory:
An unregulated marketplace of ideas encourages free thought not so much by determining the equilibrium of the moment as by
keeping low the barriers to entry, barriers that take the form not only of coercive sanctions but also social and intellectual
peer pressures toward conformity. The sheer proliferation of ideas in a free market complicates perceptions in a manner that
helps to weaken such barriers. In addition, the market metaphor makes a statement about the dynamic and chronically incomplete
character of understanding and the value of intellectual contest and innovation.
72
Although pharmacists traffic in products, not ideas, our society's struggle with the moral dimension of modern pharmaceuticals
displays a similar capacity for benefiting from a well-functioning and diverse marketplace. Understanding this diversity to
warrant that a full range of consumer choices is available in every pharmacy eviscerates the concept because it presumes that
the only relevant decision-maker in the provision of pharmaceuticals is the individual, and that the efficacy of individuals'
moral convictions should extend no farther than themselves.
The widespread disregard of the moral marketplace in the pharmacist debate stems, at least in part, from a misunderstanding
of pluralism – in particular, a failure to draw distinctions among different types of authority. The imposition of particular
moral claims by nonstate actors cannot be held to the same normative standard to which the state's imposition of similar claims
is held. Bernard Dickens, for example, asserts that “[g]overnments that enforce one version of conscience, such as [a health
care institution's] prohibition of medically indicated sterilization or abortion, are ethically and in human rights law indistinguishable
from those that enforce another, such as involuntary sterilization or forced abortion.”
73 If pluralism means anything, it means that a local pharmacy's decision not to sell the morning-after pill
cannot be equated with the state's decision to prosecute criminally anyone found in possession of the morning-after pill.
To disempower nonstate institutions from defying prevailing norms effectively disempowers individuals, exacerbating the problem
of having “large numbers of people [who] do not participate in decisions that determine the conditions of their everyday lives,
relying instead upon government officials, government institutions and government-funded institutions, and other outsiders
to provide for their well-being.”
74
The checking power of the moral marketplace also is a function of the fact that pressure to conform emanates not just from
the state, but from a marketplace stripped of ideological or moral diversity. There is something to be said for allowing
institutions to promote a type of second-order diversity,
75 which also can be thought of as interinstitutional diversity rather than intrainstitutional diversity, by adopting distinctive
morality-driven policies, even if those policies have the effect of repelling certain segments of the potential employee and
customer pool.
To be sure, sprawling pharmacy chains will not always function as mediating structures. Any corporation can acquire sufficient
power to oppress, particularly vis-à-vis its employees, and sometimes with greater efficiency than the state. Navigating the
tension between the corporation's moral identity and the dissenting employee's conscience is a primary topic of
chapter 7. Even beyond the employment relationship, it is not always obvious why replacing state power with corporate power will improve
prospects for conscience in the pharmacy. Especially compared with small, owner-operated pharmacies,
76 a large nationwide pharmacy chain may not be a promising vehicle for accurately reflecting customers' moral convictions in
pharmacy counter policies and practices. Nevertheless, state action shuts down those morally distinct owner-operated pharmacies;
the existence of Walgreen's does not, even if it can make their market viability more precarious. Even large chains make meaningful
moral claims that could be relevant to a customer's choice of pharmacy.
77
Pharmacies, as moral venues, are far from perfect; nevertheless, they are integral to the cause of conscience. Robust public
discourse regarding the moral claims embedded in current and future pharmaceutical controversies will be fostered more directly
by pharmacies representing a range of perspectives than by the current system in which the adherents to various moral perspectives
are scattered randomly and anonymously among morally fungible pharmacies. Individuals are equipped to withstand the homogenizing
force of uniform market norms when they can associate with like-minded others, which requires the accessibility of diverse
associations. Again, the moral marketplace reflects the social reality of human beings and a reminder that those concerned
with the cause of individual autonomy must do more than harness collective power to its realization; they must, to a certain
degree, disconnect the individual and the state, rediscovering the social space between the two.
Recognizing the relational dimension of conscience need not become some recycled libertarian take on the culture wars, for
recognizing the importance of the market in our “culture war” debates is not meant to suggest an embrace of all market
outcomes. The state's primary role will be to address market failure. As do traditional economic markets, markets composed
of commercial firms trafficking not just in goods and services, but also in moral claims, will also fail. One essential safeguard
is for individuals to be given the information necessary for their active and knowing participation in the market: the moral
marketplace will not function as such unless consumers and employees know the moral claims on which the pharmacy's identity
is based. If the state allows pharmacies to stake out their own positions on controversial drugs and pharmacists' obligations,
it would be justified in requiring those positions to be publicized.
78
Markets also run into problems with externalities “when the full quantum of social costs generated by an activity cannot practically
be observed, measured, or assessed against those who engage in the activity.”
79 The most glaring externality in the pharmacy debate stems from the individuals who might lack access to the pharmaceuticals
they desire. In a given community, sufficient market power might reside with those who favor restrictions on contraceptives,
for example, so as to block their availability even for those who seek to use them. Especially in rural areas, there might
be so few individuals seeking contraceptives that economic incentives are insufficient to motivate a contraceptive-dispensing
pharmacy to enter the market. Under these circumstances, individuals holding the minority view will be precluded from market
participation because there is no pharmacy option reflecting their own moral claims.
But we must recognize the limited scope of the access problem, and the correspondingly limited scope of the justified government
response. In most areas, rural or otherwise, access to widely relied on pharmaceuticals such as contraceptives will not be
a problem. Most Americans support the availability of such products, and the market will reflect that.
80 The fact that individuals might have to drive across town, or switch pharmacies, or use a (potentially) higher-cost alternative
does not necessarily mean that the market has failed. (Given the current lack of professional safeguards, it is arguable whether
the widespread availability of drugs via the Internet should be considered a suitable measure of access.) If moral discourse
regarding controversial
pharmaceuticals is going to take place, we must discern between market-driven inconvenience and market-driven lack of access.
The latter warrants state intervention; the former does not.
The distinction is reflected in the recent litigation battle over the Washington state rules requiring that all pharmacies
dispense all legal pharmaceuticals, particularly the “Plan B” emergency contraception pill, which was the focus of the dispute.
Two pharmacists and a family-owned pharmacy brought suit, claiming that their “rights of conscience” under the Constitution
were violated by the rules’ enforcement. The federal district court granted a preliminary injunction against the state, ruling
that the plaintiffs had demonstrated a likelihood of success in proving that their free exercise rights were violated.
81
In light of binding Supreme Court precedent, the district court was on shaky ground in finding a constitutional violation.
82 As expected, the Ninth Circuit vacated the injunction, finding that the rules at issue were neutral and reasoning that “The
Free Exercise Clause is not violated even though a group motivated by religious reasons may be more likely to engage in the
proscribed conduct.”
83 As a policy matter, the vitality of conscience is not necessarily strengthened by dressing up conscience claims in the workplace
as constitutional rights. As misguided as the district court's reasoning might have been, the pharmacy board's rules were
even more so, particularly when viewed through the lens offered by conscience's relational dimension.
Most legal commentators disregard this dimension. Marci Hamilton, for example, objected to the district court's ruling because
we are dealing with a “right to obtain contraceptives free of state interference.”
84 It is not clear how such a right is at stake here. The state interference is coming at the request, not of the pharmacies
and pharmacists, but of those who wish to obtain contraceptives, and it is not clear that the state needs to intervene in
the marketplace unless the goal is to ensure that Plan B is available at every single pharmacy. If we embrace the more modest
goal of access to Plan B, there should be a greater showing that state intervention is needed in a particular geographical
area.
Hamilton also noted that “the woman seeking contraception has a set of religious beliefs, too, and they permit the use of
contraception,” so it is not obvious why “the licensed pharmacist's beliefs get to trump the patient's beliefs.” She is undoubtedly
correct that the pharmacist's beliefs should not trump the patient's, but they only function as a trump when the market is
not providing alternative access points to the
pharmaceutical at issue. Consider the five women who intervened in this litigation in support of the regulations:
• One woman who was out of town visited a pharmacy that did not carry Plan B; the pharmacist there indicated generally the location
of another pharmacy for her to try, but did not provide specific directions. The woman returned home early and obtained Plan
B at a pharmacy with which she was familiar.
• A second woman was refused Plan B by one pharmacist, but then another pharmacist on duty at the same pharmacy apologized to
her and filled the prescription.
• A third woman obtained Plan B on two occasions from Planned Parenthood because she had “heard numerous accounts of pharmacists who refuse to fill emergency contraception prescriptions or otherwise act in a hostile or harassing manner to those seeking
such prescriptions.”
• A fourth woman did not use Plan B, but participated in a Planned Parenthood testing program designed to identify pharmacists
who refused to stock or distribute Plan B. She found that in the town of Wenatchee (population: 27,000), she could obtain
Plan B at two of five pharmacies.
• The fifth woman had never used Plan B, but wanted to join the suit to ensure that “all women in Washington can get timely
access to emergency contraception…without harassment or hostility.”
These accounts do not provide much evidence that the market has failed. As the Ninth Circuit observed in denying the state's
motion to stay the injunction pending appeal, “there is no evidence that any woman who sought Plan B was unable to obtain
it.”
85 A survey cited by the court showed that only two percent of pharmacies in Washington state did not stock Plan B because of
personal, moral, or religious reasons.
86 Although not correcting for any apparent market failure, the regulations do preclude pharmacies from staking out any distinctive
claim on the propriety of offering morally contested products and services, short-circuiting any possibility that pharmacies
can function as venues for conscience. To reiterate, this does not mean that pharmacies should somehow be shielded from the
marketplace fallout of their conduct. Prior to the adoption of the regulations, in fact, the family-owned pharmacy that ultimately
brought suit was the target of a boycott because of its refusal to stock Plan B. We do not need to give pharmacists a constitutional
right to make unilateral decisions about what services they will offer; we also do not need to make all pharmacies morally
fungible via state edict absent a specific showing that access has been compromised.
Access cannot be trotted out as a bogeyman every time a pharmacy decides to carve out an identity for itself that diverges
from the model of unlimited consumer
choice. If the marketplace is going to be relevant, the state must restrain its regulatory ambition. Intervention should be
precisely targeted. The state should be legislatively empowered to declare a market failure with respect to particular pharmaceuticals
and to require, as a condition of licensing, the provision of those pharmaceuticals by pharmacies operating within that market.
But the fear of market failures should not be invoked as the basis for constraining the moral marketplace before it has the
chance to operate.
As a market actor, the state can do more than guard against market failure; the state can pursue its own normative claims,
though self-restraint again is in order. The obvious mechanism is through licensing requirements and funding programs (e.g.,
the state-level equivalents of Medicare and Medicaid).
87 The marketplace's prospects turn on the substance and expansiveness of those normative claims. Stephen Macedo argues that
a “liberal society…need not guarantee that its institutions and policies provide a level playing field for the different groups
that compete for members in society,”
88 but, as David Cole has recognized in the First Amendment context, the danger of government-funded speech laden with coercive
“strings” lies not “in the coercive effect of the benefit on speakers, but in the indoctrinating effect of a monopolized marketplace
of ideas.”
89 The question of such regulation is a thorny one because “of the paradoxical nature of such speech: it is both necessary to
and potentially subversive of democratic values.”
90
As an actor within (not over) the moral marketplace, the state must resist the tendency to regulate in favor of the least
objectionable norms, which often results in the imposition of a lowest-common-denominator approach to contested values, ensuring
that unfettered individual choice becomes the universal norm. Cole focuses on the federal government's abortion-related “gag
rule” in advocating for a “spheres of neutrality” approach, which calls us to consider the role that certain institutions
play in public debate and in checking government indoctrination. “Only by barring government control of the content of speech
in critical public institutions,” Cole writes, “can the first amendment ensure an ‘uninhibited, robust, and wide-open’ public
debate.”
91 He focuses on public fora, the press, and public universities, while also acknowledging that institutions “such as medicine,
education, and the law” are “critical to individual autonomy and choice.”
92 Cole also wants government neutrality to
reign in fiduciary relationships such as “doctor-patient,” given that “a counselee is the paradigmatic ‘captive audience,’
particularly vulnerable to indoctrination,” and “[o]ne of the first amendment's principal aims is to ensure that individuals
are free to choose their own destinies free of the government's ideological intrusion.”
93
The need to guard against the government's “ideological intrusion” is equally applicable to the pharmacist controversy. Although
Cole might resist the moral marketplace's deemphasis of an individualist understanding of moral autonomy, a similar impetus
for a “‘wide-open’ public debate” on the provision of morally controversial pharmaceuticals exists in this context. As such,
the normative claims pursued by the government should not impose particular substantive outcomes on the moral debate – the
nonnegotiable sanctity of the pharmacist's conscience or the nonnegotiable sanctity of consumer choice – but should be geared
toward facilitating participation within the market. The state is a facilitator, not an arbiter.
The professional provision of pharmaceuticals should not be regulated out of independence, co-opted by the collective will.
As with other professions, pharmacists
can be regulated “as a means of fostering the existence and integrity of the institution,” but also must be protected “from
ready destruction at the hands of the State, whether by direct regulation or by selective funding.”
94 Organizations of pharmacists, especially when committed to common ideals and norms, can mediate “the isolated endeavors of
individuals and the collective political decision making of universalizing government institutions.”
95 The normative claims to be pursued by the state as market actor thus boil down to questions of access. Whether to remedy
market failures or to overcome deliberately exclusionary practices by key economic gatekeepers, the state's objective is not
to impose a certain vision of the good, but to promote the public conversation(s) regarding the good.