In her book, Carol Gould extends the argument she developed in Rethinking Democracy: Freedom and Social Cooperation in Politics, Economy and Society (1988) by addressing both the problems and potential benefits of increasing global interconnectedness. In particular, she is concerned to explore and, so far as possible, resolve the tensions between human rights and democracy, seeking in the process to reconcile a robust conception of human rights with the recognition of social and cultural diversity.

Those familiar with Gould's earlier work will know that human rights are central to her theory of democracy. As she reprises that argument here, the foundational principle is “freedom as agency or the capacity for choice,” which, she claims, “characterizes all human beings” and which in turn gives rise to “an equal and valid claim—that is to say, a right—to the conditions of self-development on the part of each human being” (p. 34). Democracy—the “equal right to participate in decision making concerning the common activities in which individuals are engaged” (p. 35)—is one of the rights to which people are entitled. From an exposition of her foundational principle, Gould moves to an exploration of the meaning and applications of democracy in the face of increasing globalization. Beginning with general philosophical and conceptual issues, such as the tensions between justice and democracy and between universalism and cultural relativism, she proceeds to discuss more specific issues: democratic management and the Stakeholder Idea, the democratic potential of the Internet and other computer technologies, and the relationship between terrorism and democracy. Along the way, she explores a multitude of issues that relate to the political tensions associated with human rights. The body in politics, racism and democracy, cultural identity and group rights, women's human rights, the possibility of global democracy, the compatibility of human rights and democracy in a globalized context, and the global democratic deficit and economic human rights—all of these are examples of the varied themes that the author addresses.

Although Gould claims that her book “goes against the grain of much current political theorizing” (p. 5), it would be at least as true to say that her conclusions are broadly in line with a familiar strand of left universalism. Basically, she argues for much greater democratization within the constraints of a robust conception of human rights. The difficult part, of course, lies in showing precisely how this is possible. There is much of interest in the detail of her arguments and in her critical engagements with a vast array of contemporary political theorists; her discussion of global democracy, for instance, is particularly perceptive. She is well versed in current debates, is sensitive to many of the tensions within democratic theory, and is an intelligent and generally fair-minded critic of the ideas of others. Why, then, am I ultimately a little disappointed by the book?

A large part of the answer, I think, lies in Gould's reluctance to face up to some of the really hard questions and to the challenges they pose to the left liberalism she espouses. So, for instance, although she is well aware of many of the problems with the idea of “needs,” she rather gives the impression of resolving them without actually doing so. The claim that “the identification and interpretation of needs have a socially constructed aspect and also involve a personal ascription of these needs to oneself” (p. 98) is immediately followed by the assertion that we have a need for, among other things, art. But many people can and do live worthwhile lives without art. Why not, say, a need for religion, or the “spiritual,” which is lacking from her list? Or, to give another example: When she claims that a linguistically differentiated cultural minority has a “group right to provide the means for the perpetuation of that linguistic community” but not the right to “insist that all of its members [be] required to be educated only in that language” (p. 124), she simply passes over the hard question of whether the minority culture has a right to insist that all its members be educated in its language as a first language. Or, again, there is little real effort to address the problems posed for her conception of democracy by environmental problems that may have catastrophic consequences for future generations. Surprisingly, her response to the objection that future persons cannot participate in democratic decision making appears to be that we must “narrow the participation requirement to make it more manageable” (p. 226), not to find a better way of including the interests of future generations. Unfortunately, this tendency is at its most marked in the final chapter on terrorism in which some optimistic sentiments about human solidarity are combined with the largely uncomprehending parochialism with which so many Americans seem to view terrorism post 9/11.

Ultimately, although she is not unique in this, I worry that Gould's political prescriptions float free of any viable conception of political agency. Some might say that this is merely an empirical matter, and not the province of political philosophy. But I am not complaining that she does not offer practical mechanisms for effecting change, only that we need to have some conception of how her theoretical prescriptions could be brought about in a way that both is consistent with her theory and has at least a modicum of empirical plausibility. For instance, given the way a globalized economy works, many of Gould's proposals for economic democratization require near-universal simultaneous changes in the global market. But we have very little idea of what political agency could bring these about, and probably none at all of how they could be brought about democratically. In fairness, many readers will not be exercised by these concerns to the extent I am. And, as I said earlier, there is indeed much that is worthwhile in the detailed discussion and argumentation.