Now that the debate over the relationship between liberalism and communitarianism has abated just as suddenly as it emerged two decades ago, the gap between philosophical theory and political praxis appears to be growing again. Back when the writings of Michael Walzer, John Rawls or Charles Taylor were broadly discussed among intellectuals, political philosophy seemed to have the power to inform political praxis with theoretical ideas and clues.1 For a brief moment, it seemed that philosophical efforts to properly define the concept of social justice had an influence on the development of political aims and programmes.2 Yet today, after the challenge of communitarianism has subsided, we are faced once again with the same malaise about a disconnect between political philosophy and political action, between theory and praxis. There appears to be a general consensus about the fact that liberal-democratic societies are based on normative foundations, which requires legal guarantees for the individual autonomy of all citizens. Furthermore, most would agree that these principles of legal and political equality require economic redistribution, allowing the disadvantaged to make effective use of their legally guaranteed rights. However, these general principles of social justice are without any informational value for the praxis of political representatives and social movements. When it comes to complex social problems such as welfare state reform, these widely accepted principles quickly lose their explanatory and advisory effect. This gap does not consist in a mere temporal delay between philosophical explanation and practical application, for more is needed than time, effort and persistence to transform theoretically developed principles of justice into guidelines for political action. Instead, these normative principles seem to be formulated in a manner that prevents us from deriving guidelines for political action. It appears that we are constantly forced to draw on other norms that lack philosophical grounding, just to have a prospect of arriving at a ‘just’ solution.3
In the face of this widening gap between philosophical theories of justice and political praxis, perhaps we should take a step back and get a clear view of the first side of this split. After all, it is certainly possible that conceptual faults in the theory are responsible for its growing detachment from political action. In what follows I will attempt to gradually distance myself from the premises of the dominant liberal theory of justice in order to take up an external perspective, which will allow me to subject this theory to critical examination. I will proceed by first developing three elements of what seems to be the broad consensus among nearly all theories of justice. Without taking account of the many differences between various individual approaches, I claim that a basic proceduralist schema, the notion of just distribution and a certain fixation on the state combine to make up the theoretical foundation of our current theory of justice (I). Second, I will examine and question each of these three theoretical building blocks, beginning with the paradigm of distribution, which I regard as the key to criticizing the other key elements of the theory (II). Third, after I have demonstrated the dubious nature of all three theoretical elements, I can begin to draft a normative counter-proposal. I will start with the question of how we should conceive of the material of social justice if the distribution of goods does not constitute a sufficient solution. I will then go on to outline a response to the other two questions that arise from the deficits of both the basic proceduralist schema and the fixation upon the state (III). Finally, I will make some indications about the consequences of reconceiving the theory of justice in this fashion. Here I will come back to my starting point: the relationship between a philosophical theory of justice and political praxis. Obviously, the guideline for my approach will be the question of how we are to conceive of the fabric or material of social justice.
Today there seems to be a broad consensus within philosophical circles about the premises of a theory of social justice. Although we might find scattered resistance to individual elements, most agree on the procedure of justification and its main area of application. Both are seen to derive from the idea that principles of justice are the expression of a common desire to grant each other equal freedom of action. Although this abstract principle appears coherent, it brings together two different theoretical complexes, each of which derives from a different definition of liberty. On the one hand, what we call social justice has its measure in the guarantee of our personal, purely individual autonomy. On the other hand, principles of justice must be conceived of as the result of a shared process of will formation that depends on intersubjective cooperation.4 I will refer to the former element of this construction, which concerns the reciprocal granting of individual autonomy, as its ‘material’ component. I will call the second component, which deals with the generation of principles of justice, its formal principle.
The material component embodies the fact that a striving for the liberation of the individual from external impositions and personal dependencies is considered an essential achievement of free societies. The modern form of individual liberty should, in principle, have its measure in the unhindered pursuit of individually chosen aims. This new conception of liberty alters significantly the substantive task of justice: whereas it once primarily consisted in assigning each person his or her place in the social hierarchy and ensuring a corresponding livelihood, it now consists in granting all subjects equal space to pursue their individual preferences. Though this formulation might sound inconspicuous, it would soon give birth to a crucial notion in our current conception of justice: the fewer limits others impose on us – that is, the more independent we are of our partners in interaction – the greater our individual freedom. Although this liberal emphasis on individuality does not automatically imply the isolation of the subject, the images used to lend rhetorical support to this conception, as well as the examples used to convey it to a broader audience, suggest that social bonds can generally be regarded as limitations on individual freedom. It is through these channels that the individualistic notion of personal autonomy has seeped into modern theories of justice. This has given rise to the influential idea that creating a just society means conceding all subjects a form of self-determination that allows them to be as independent as possible of their partners in interaction.5 The most important consequence of this one-sided notion is a theoretical schema that we might term the ‘paradigm of distribution’. Because our dependency on others is viewed as a threat to our individual freedom, the latter can only be secured if every individual possesses sufficient means to achieve his or her life plans. Accordingly, the substantive task of justice consists in distributing those ‘goods’ that enable all members of society to pursue their individual preferences. At the end of this developmental process, therefore, justice is equated with ‘just distribution’, without any thought as to whether we are justified in viewing individual freedom essentially as the use or enjoyment of goods.6
But before I go into the deficits of the distributional paradigm, I first want to present the other components of the contemporary concept of justice. I have already indicated that a certain tension can be found in the most general definition of social justice, because alongside the individualistic notion of liberty it also entails an element of willing intersubjective cooperation. The procedure by which we arrive at justified principles of distribution often involves a shared process of will formation that leads to the determination of normative principles. This form principle of recent theories of justice – constitutive proceduralism – results from considerations on the autonomy of individuals. Because the members of society are to be viewed as free and self-determined, a conception of justice must not seek to go over their heads in defining what counts as a just distribution of goods. Instead, these authors construct an ‘original position’, a social contract or similar situation of deliberation, in which hypothetical conditions of impartiality allow us to arrive at justified conclusions about distributional preferences.7 Distributional principles are therefore determined not by means of a theory, but by a fair and just process of deliberation in which those affected arrive at a consensus. We can refer to this self-restriction as ‘proceduralist’, because the concrete distributional schema derives from a procedure that guarantees the consent of all involved. However, proceduralism is necessarily marked by a certain tension, because we must project specific conditions of justice onto the definition of the ‘original position’, conditions to which all involved must consent. After all, the parties in this original position are to deliberate as free and equal individuals – if indeed they are to arrive at decisions to which all can truly consent. This means that the specific preconditions of liberty to be decided upon must be settled before the participants begin to deliberate. In a certain sense, therefore, the theory must unintentionally anticipate the normative results of the procedure by positing specific conditions of autonomy.8 And the more we view this procedure not as a mere thought experiment, but as a real process in the social world, the more this tension turns to conflict.9
But here as well, I would like to put aside these concerns until I have outlined the third element of currently prevalent theories of justice: the agency or authority entrusted with implementing principles of distribution in social reality. This can entail, at one end of the spectrum, shifting all responsibility to state institutions, or, at the other end, demanding that each individual be willing to apply these principles. Although it is not always clear whether more recent theories of justice include non-state authorities or individual behaviour in their considerations, their basic line of argumentation suggests that the only appropriate agency for realizing justice is the democratic state. This tendency to concentrate all formative power within the state results from a combination of two considerations, both of which sound plausible on their own. On the one hand, the members of society are not to be made responsible for realizing justice, because this would entail the danger of a dictatorship of virtues, an unreasonable demand on morally exemplary behaviour. On the other hand, only the constitutional state is to possess the legitimate means for effectively implementing distributional measures. Current theories of justice therefore envision a moral division of labour, according to which citizens are to fashion principles of justice, while the democratically controlled state retains the sole authority to implement them.10 The obvious danger of focusing so strongly on the state is that everything outside the latter's legal jurisdiction would remain immune to demands for justice. Social spheres such as the family or private companies, which for good reason are only partially penetrated by the law, cannot be drawn upon or made responsible for the implementation of justice. I will return to this point later in a more detailed analysis of these three components of contemporary theories of justice.
Until now I have only outlined some of the theoretical premises that I regard as common to all currently dominant conceptions of justice. Although there are certainly differences in detail, these theories agree that the epitome of justice in modernity consists in ensuring individual autonomy. This type of autonomy is to be secured and guaranteed by providing all citizens with the basic goods required for realizing individual life plans. The principles according to which these goods are to be justly distributed, however, are to be determined not by the theory itself, but by those affected. To do so, the theory formulates a procedure – either a thought experiment or a real act – that informs us about the principles of distribution that participants would arrive at under free and fair conditions. The agency entrusted with the practical implementation of these principles is the constitutional state, which ensures their proper realisation via a legitimate system of laws. Of course, much depends on the concrete determinations made at each individual stage of the process. The normative shape of these theories of justice varies greatly depending on whether the basic goods are made up exclusively of material resources or include certain capacities; it depends on how the conditions of impartiality are determined and the pattern of state activity. But again, I am interested not in particular versions of these theories, but rather in the general image they project. The first thing that catches the eye is that the material of justice nearly always consists in generally valued goods to be distributed according to principles still to be determined. This presupposes a common interest in these means, which are required for forming and pursuing autonomous, freely chosen life plans.11 For these theories, what makes up a just social order is merely a question of what counts as a just distribution of basic goods.
At first sight, this might seem self-evident, since we do seem to owe part of our individual liberty to our having opportunities and means for attaining freely chosen aims. Financial resources provide us with multiple options in life, and a broad palette of career offers allows us the purposeful realization of our capacities. But these formulations contain a subtle presupposition that cannot be so easily assimilated to the schema of distributive goods. In order to perceive the possession of money as a chance for liberty, subjects must have already formed a conception of which aims they deem worthy of pursuing. In order to regard career offers as paths for realizing their capacities, subjects must already grasp some of their dispositions and talents as valuable and worthy of realization. None of these preconditions has the character of a determinate good, for unlike ‘things’, they cannot be ‘possessed’, but must be acquired with great effort within, and through, interpersonal relationships. However, these random examples are not yet objections, but are only intended as a key for developing a critique of the entire schema of distribution.
The connection between these last two brief considerations lies in the fact that goods can only be grasped as useful means for realizing individual liberty if we presuppose that people are ‘autonomous’. We cannot determine what it means to grasp financial resources or career opportunities as chances for freedom by considering the meaning of these goods themselves, but only by defining our respective relation to them. Therefore, even the most comprehensive and well-considered list of basic goods cannot tell us what it would mean to ensure conditions of personal autonomy. The real issue would always be found below the threshold of what could be formulated in such a list. As far back as Kant, and probably ever since Rousseau, we have defined ‘autonomy’ as a certain type of individual relation-to-self that allows us to be confident of our needs and beliefs, and to value our own capacities. These forms of self-respect may be articulated and represented with the aid of goods, but they cannot be acquired and maintained through them.12 Instead we achieve autonomy along intersubjective paths by learning to understand ourselves, via others' recognition, as beings whose needs, beliefs and abilities are worth being realized. However, this will only be possible if, at the same time, we recognize those who recognize us, because in their behaviour towards us we should be able to see our own value as in a mirror. Therefore, if individual autonomy is to emerge and flourish, reciprocal intersubjective recognition is required. We do not acquire autonomy on our own, but only in relation to other people who are willing to appreciate (wertschätzen) us, just as we must be able to appreciate them.13
But if relations of reciprocity, and not goods, represent the conditions of autonomy, then current theories of justice completely fail to grasp the structure of justice. According to the paradigm of distribution, that which ensures equal autonomy can somehow be distributed. This is to assume that the ‘material’ of justice always exists in a pre-formed, thing-like state – something that subjects can accumulate individually. But neither can be true if we only arrive at autonomy through reciprocal recognition. These relations can never be self-contained and static like concrete goods, nor can we consume or enjoy them individually, because they always require the cooperation of other subjects. Autonomy is a relational, intersubjective entity, not a monological achievement. What helps us to acquire autonomy is not cut out of the same cloth as a good that can be distributed; it is fashioned out of living relations of reciprocal recognition that are just to the degree that they allow us to reciprocally value our needs, beliefs and abilities. Of course, we can also refer to such practical intersubjectivities as ‘goods’ in an Aristotelian sense, but then we must not infuse them with the economic meaning implied by the distributional schema.14
These objections undermine only the first cornerstone of today's dominant theories of justice. The paradigm of distribution has proven unsuitable for properly determining the material of justice in modernity. Instead of ‘goods’, we should speak of relations of recognition; instead of ‘distribution’, we should think of other patterns for granting justice. Before I go into more detail, I must first clarify whether this inversion has any implications for the other building blocks of modern theories of justice. Can proceduralism maintain its state-centricity if the fabric of justice is no longer seen to consist in distributable goods but in intersubjective relations of reciprocity?
As we have seen, proceduralism is based on the idea that theory cannot determine just principles (of distribution). Because subjects must be presupposed as partially autonomous, they, or their representatives, are to be the hypothetical originators of principles formulated under fair and impartial conditions. But however we view the matter, deliberating actors must be assumed to freely control the material of their decisions. The material and subject-matter of their impartial decisions must be viewed as a freely formable mass, for otherwise the room for decision would be limited by external and alien conditions. Here we see the immanent link between proceduralism and the paradigm of distribution. We can only view principles of justice as the result of a fair procedure if we also presuppose that subjects can determine the material of their decisions as freely and arbitrarily as they do movable goods. In order to maintain the fictional notion that principles of justice can be created autonomously, proceduralism must define the material of justice as a disposable good; that about which we make normatively justified decisions is to be conceived of as a kind of evenly divisible mass that can be supplied to entitled subjects and groups. The idea of the distribution of goods is thus an entirely appropriate presupposition for this form of proceduralism. But if we remove this premise – that is, if we can conceive of the material of justice no longer in terms of exchangeable goods, but instead as reciprocal social relations – then this also affects the basic conditions of proceduralism. We can no longer picture deliberating agents dealing with something that they can control freely in accordance with their own conceptions of justice. Relations of recognition, which have proven to be the decisive conditions of personal autonomy, do not consist of material that could be allocated at will. We cannot place ourselves in a position vis-à-vis these ‘goods’ in which we are the decision-makers and preside over their just organization or equal distribution.15 These relations of recognition instead represent historically contingent forces that influence us behind our backs. To want to detach ourselves from them in order to get sight of them is to entertain an illusion that is just as empty and idle as the desire to shape them as we please.
It appears to me that this undermines the second cornerstone of currently prevalent theories of justice. As soon as distributable goods are no longer regarded as the material of justice, we can no longer conceive of the process of generating principles of justice as a fictitious procedure within an original position. However fair, impartial and free this procedure might be, by eliminating the distributional schema, we deprive those involved of the capacity to even conceive of a just social order as being a matter of the resources or means at their disposal. I will deal later with an alternative conception, which views this deliberative procedure as a palpable occurrence within the democratic public sphere, but first I will discuss how this theoretical dismantling has affected the last remaining component of current theories of justice.
This last cornerstone consists in the assumption that the state alone possesses the appropriate and universally accepted means for implementing principles of justice, imposing a distribution of basic goods – agreed upon by social agents in fictitious deliberations – in the form of enforceable laws. The connection between such a division of labour and the paradigm of distribution is so obvious that it hardly needs mentioning. The task of realizing justice must be left to the state, because it is the only authority that possesses the power to distribute the goods needed to enable individual autonomy. But what becomes of this state-centrism once we abandon the notion of distributional justice and replace it with the idea that relations of recognition are what primarily constitute the breeding ground and enabling condition for individual autonomy? The first problem derives from the circumstance that we owe our autonomy to our involvement in various different social relations, each of which can be thought of as irreplaceable. Alongside the democratic legal community, in which we are obligated to respect each other as free and equal citizens, we are involved in multiple forms of familial and work relations – which are becoming ever more precarious – in which we apparently acquire other facets of our self-respect.16 But what is important at this point is the fact that only one of these forms of practical intersubjectivity can be directly and immediately influenced by the state. It is only with regard to legal relations that the state can be conceived of as intervening in relations of recognition by altering the range of subjective rights and entitlements, including new social groups, or declaring modified situations legally relevant. Therefore, within this legal sphere, in which we recognize each other as free and equal citizens and thereby become aware of our political autonomy, it still makes sense for us to conceive of the realization of justice as a directive activity of the state. The other spheres of reciprocal recognition, however, are accessible to state influence only within very strict bounds. Neither in the family nor in the workplace can the state simply intervene to improve conditions of recognition, without running the risk of impinging on these spheres' autonomous conditions of existence. Conversely, these are the two spheres of action that appear especially significant in terms of promoting individual self-respect in a general and commonly understandable manner. After all, the family is the place where the emotional groundwork is laid for our self-confidence and our capacity to articulate needs.17 And in the social exchange of services, we acquire the no less important capacity to view our works and our skills as valuable and socially needed18 – both of which make up core components of our capacity to live without ‘shame and anxiety’ (Adam Smith) and thus autonomously. But what if the democratic state only possesses highly limited means for intervening in the relations of recognition inherent in these spheres? Would we have to give up the aim of ensuring just conditions that promote autonomy simply because there appear to be no other agencies of justice available?
In order to solve this difficult issue, we should borrow from the theories that have developed in the wake of Michel Foucault's decentring of the concept of power, applying the latter to theories of justice. Whereas until recently most political scientists and sociologists were convinced that political directives could only run from top to bottom via the activity of the state, we now know this is not true, because political power is largely exercised through a broad and decentred network of semi-governmental, civilian organizations. If we try to make this conception fruitful for the theory of justice, we will quickly see that traditional approaches focus excessively on the state. Because political rule is reproduced through different, loosely connected points, social justice is fought for and secured by many agents connected through network-like structures, all of which are found on the terrain of civil society. The institutions we find as soon as we look beyond the state's own measures consist of ‘pre-state’ organizations, associations and collectives that work to improve conditions of recognition in the name of justice. We need only think of family-like self-help groups, trade unions, church communities or other civilian groups in order to get a picture of just how many social agents are involved in realizing justice. The structural model for such pre-state agencies can be found in Hegel's ‘Corporations’,19 whose function primarily consisted in establishing the moral principle of a certain social sphere – ‘civil society’ – and reinforcing it in practice.20
Although these organizations admittedly lack the binding power that gives state measures such strong potential for influencing conditions of recognition, this does not mean that pre-state networks must remain without any influence on how individual autonomy is secured and expanded. I claim that our image of justice is strongly restricted by this current fixation on the state. That we cannot perceive of the activities of such civil organizations as moral interventions, or as instances of the social promotion of justice, is the consequence of a restricted view inherent in currently prevalent theories of justice.
Until now, I have mostly employed what might best be termed a ‘therapeutic’ approach. I have intended to show, purely negatively, that the currently dominant image of justice blinds us to the latter's true structure and to the way it works. We misunderstand the place that justice has in our everyday praxis if we attempt to grasp it according to models of distribution and theories of original positions. In this third and last part, I will take up the alternative conceptions I have only hinted at until now and sketch the outlines of a different, more appropriate, conception. If I were to outline this conception with a few key points, I would say that, first of all, the distributional schema would have to be replaced by the involvement of all subjects in a given relationship of recognition. Second, a normative reconstruction uncovering the basic moral norms that underlie that relationship of recognition would have to replace the use of a fictitious procedure. Third, the exclusive focus on the regulative activity of the state would be supplemented by a decentralized consideration of non-state actors and organizations. Now, to briefly explain these three steps.
Clearly, even the alternative model of justice I have in mind must start by acknowledging the normative idea that all members of modern societies must possess the same capacities and conditions for individual autonomy. What distinguishes this alternative conception is thus not its moral core, but its material implications. Everything turns upon how we understand the social promotion of autonomy, upon whose crucial role both sides agree. As long as we view liberty as something that all individuals can achieve on their own, it suffices to assume individually disposable goods to be the material of justice. With the help of these goods, individuals are capable of creating a space for the pursuit of their freely chosen life plans. On this account, the task of social justice in modernity consists in ensuring that each individual has an equal and sufficient share of such goods. By contrast, my alternative conception understands individual autonomy not as a monological but as an intersubjective matter. Individuals achieve self-determination by learning, within relations of reciprocal recognition, to view their needs, beliefs and abilities as worthy of articulation and pursuit in the public sphere. This does not obviate distributional justice, but it does demote it from the decisive principle of justice to a dependent variable in relations of recognition.21 The alternative, intersubjective conception of autonomy fundamentally transforms the architecture of the theory of justice. This is not only true of its material, but also of its form principle and agent-relation (Akteursbezug), all of which take on a new definition as soon as we grasp individual liberty as a result of relations of recognition.
The material of justice must now be regarded as a special class of intersubjective relations in which citizens accord to each other normative worth. This type of reciprocally granted entitlement to a certain level of consideration provides the background against which subjects learn to experience themselves as deserving respect, thereby attaining autonomy. But unlike material goods, these relations of recognition can be neither generated socially nor distributed according to a given set of rules. Instead they are historically contingent structures, which have assumed the shape of institutional practices in which subjects are involved or from which they are excluded. Such historically given relations of recognition are what make up the material of justice. We cannot take up the stance of an individual or discursive legislator towards these relations; rather we must first content ourselves with observing and accepting them. However, even within this highly restricted role, we know that if the relations of recognition emerging before us are to fulfil their constitutive function, they must presuppose a moral principle. Subjects can only ascribe to each other normative worth, in the light of which they are capable of valuing themselves, if both sides agree on a moral principle that can serve as a source of their reciprocal ascriptions and statements. No relation of recognition, not even those past relations in which subjects respected each other as un-equals, can do without a mutually agreed upon norm. These shared principles work to ensure that a praxis of reciprocal recognition can be developed and preserved at all. With these normative foundations of all recognition, however, our alternative theory of justice does possess some initial criteria for judging existing institutions and policies. After all, the demands made by these moral principles coincide with the conditions under which subjects ideally attain a measure of self-respect; therefore, we could say tentatively that it would be ‘just’ to install and socially equip an existent social sphere as is demanded by the underlying norm of recognition.22
Before I can make this thesis more plausible and substantial, I must first discuss which principle of justification we should apply in this context. We saw that the theories I dealt with in the first part of this essay hypothetically construct an impartial procedure of deliberation in which citizens agree upon certain norms. But this kind of proceduralism is unacceptable for the position I will sketch here, because it must presuppose that the material of justice is given historically. But if we are not capable of arbitrarily moving and distributing the material of our moral intentions, it is useless to search for hypothetical principles to which we could then commit. The result of already existing relations of recognition demands instead that principles of justice be justified by the historical material. This means that we may justify principles not through the use of a constructed procedure, but only by locating them in the relations of communication themselves, in their conditions of validity. This alternative procedure could thus be termed ‘reconstructive’, because it does not ‘construct’ an impartial standpoint from which to justify principles of justice, but ‘reconstructs’ them out of the historical process of relations of recognition in which they are always already at work.23 Compared to proceduralist approaches, this type of reconstructive theory of justice is both more trustful and more sceptical of historical reality. It is more trustful because it sees within already established relations of communication the normative principles that underlie demands for social justice. It can therefore restrict itself to explicating the principles that socialized subjects are already guided by in their relationships of recognition. However, if these preconditions are absent – that is, if we are dealing with ethically damaged and demoralized social relationships – this theory of justice will be relatively powerless. It, too, will have to resort to an impartial standpoint in order to not wholly lose sight of the principles of social justice.24 This extreme case also demonstrates why a reconstructive theory of justice is generally more sceptical than its proceduralist alternatives, because it does not trust a fictitious procedure of agreement to inform us realistically about principles of justice. It will always be doubtful whether these principles overtax existing social relations.
But the scepticism reaches even further. There might be hopes that in the course of this normative reconstruction, we will come across an historically existent discursive method – the very same method appealed to fictitiously by proceduralists. If that were the case, we could discern a special relation of recognition in modern social reality, one in which citizens achieve autonomy by participating in democratic processes of will formation, thereby defining together the principles of social justice.25 Under these circumstances, the theory could pull out of the business of determining principles of social justice, for it need only distil the normative preconditions under which the discursive results of the already existing procedure can count as justified. The reason why I distrust such an historically situated form of proceduralism26 is that individual autonomy demands more and other forms of social recognition than are guaranteed by participation in public processes of will formation. Subjects need intersubjective esteem and consideration even in the social roles they play apart from being legal subjects, where their own commonly practised self-legislation enjoys insufficient legal protection. With that, we pick up where we left off before turning to the proceduralist theory of justice.
I have mentioned several times that subjects depend on the recognition of their needs, beliefs and abilities in order to take part in social life. It does not suffice to conceive of autonomy as arising solely from intersubjective respect for subjects' decision-making competence; rather, subjects need to be appreciated for their particular needs and individual deeds. Only when citizens see all these elements of their personality respected and recognized will they be capable of acting with self-respect and committing themselves to their own respective life paths. For this reason, the reconstructive procedure cannot restrict itself to uncovering the principle of recognition within already established legal relations. While subjects thereby respect each other's capacity to form reflexive judgements, there are still other, equally significant relations of recognition that provide individuals with the experience of being appreciated for their needs and abilities. Normative reconstruction must be directed towards the entire spectrum of reciprocal social relationships if we are to truly disclose all the conditions under which subjects achieve autonomy. Alongside legal relationships, we must also include familial relationships and societal relations of work within our theory of justice. Even if citizens can only intervene in these spheres through the restricted mechanisms of democratic law-making, these conditions of recognition also prove significant for justice because they have a strong influence on the flourishing and failing of individual autonomy.
Just as in the egalitarian legal relations under the democratic rule of law, individuals are also obligated within the family and the exchange of services to recognize each other as free and equal. Unlike in traditional societies, both of these weakly regulated spheres must satisfy the demand for symmetrical and egalitarian recognition.27 However, in the course of normative reconstruction we find out quickly that very different moral aspects serve here as sources of reciprocal esteem. In democratic legal relations the deliberative equality of all subjects forms the normative basis of the respect that subjects grant each other, whereas within the family the particular needs of the members are what constitute the normative points of orientation for recognition; and within the social exchange of services, the work or achievement (Leistung) of those involved constitutes the relevant criterion. A reconstructive theory of justice therefore faces the challenge of defending not only one normative principle in the name of individual autonomy, but three. Depending on the respective social sphere, the moral aspect of either deliberative equality, justice of needs (Bedürfnisgerechtigkeit) or justice of achievement (Leistungsgerechtigkeit) must be emphasized and reinforced.28 This kind of pluralism, as unwieldy as it may seem, accommodates the distinctions that subjects actually make in individual issues of justice. As many empirical investigations have now shown, subjects constantly distinguish between the same three spheres mentioned above in their everyday praxis, in order to apply the respectively appropriate principles of justice.29
The fact that this alternative theory of justice corresponds to empirical reality means that it might reduce philosophy's distance from political praxis after all. The task would be to demonstrate the institutional, material and legal conditions that would have to be fulfilled in order for different social spheres to take account of the norms of recognition upon which they are based. With the aim of promoting individual autonomy, they would have to defend deliberative equality within democratic legal relations, equity of needs within familial relationships, and justice of achievement in relations of work. Not only that, they would also have to demand that all subjects be involved in these relationships of recognition. Such a theory of justice would also find itself in agreement with the moral convictions entertained by subjects in their everyday praxis. Conversely, however, the theory cannot make the application of its own principles – not even its differentiations – dependent on the outcome of democratic will formation. After all, the theory knows too well that such decisions are only provisional, partial and distorted as long as citizens cannot raise their voices free of all anxiety and shame. For the sake of this element of individual autonomy and elementary freedom of public expression, this theory of justice must demand advocative relations in which subjects attain self-respect not only in the democratic public sphere, but also in their familial relationships and in their working life. Nevertheless, they cannot rely solely on the state to realize their intentions; rather, they must count on the cooperation of non-state organizations. Their activities merely require rejuvenation by means of both more powerful and more realistic conceptions of justice in order to employ the right moral vocabulary in the right place. And at least this prospect might nurture the hope that a reconstructive, pluralistic theory of justice can close the gap between philosophical theory and political praxis.