Many political philosophers believe that the ideal of equality requires that each member of a society enjoy an equal share of the available resources. What counts as an equal share is hotly disputed. For example, whereas some maintain that a distribution of goods is equal if and only if individuals are equally able to satisfy their preferences, others claim that what matters is that no individual envies another’s holdings. The conviction that unites this family of views is that it is unfair for some individuals to endure worse prospects than others, at least so long as this inequality is not attributable to choices for which we should hold individuals responsible.

In recent years, this distributive ideal of equality has come under sustained attack. These complaints have not come, as one might expect, from those conservatives or libertarians who reject the ideal of equality outright. Instead, those who press these objections contend not that we should abandon the ideal of equality, but that it is a mistake to tie this ideal so closely to claims about distributions of holdings. The alternative that emerges is to embrace a relational ideal of equality, according to which each member of a society should relate to others as her equals, where this involves, among other things, the absence of domination, exploitation, and oppression.

For whatever reason, philosophical debate has centered on the resilience of the distributive ideal of equality and, in particular, on whether we have sound reasons to fixate on society’s distribution of resources. One consequence is that the details of the relational ideal of equality are much less well understood. What does it mean for individuals to relate to each other as equals? Which kinds of social and economic inequalities does this ideal require, permit, or forbid?

In different ways, both of the books reviewed here offer answers to these questions. This is especially clear in the case of Kasper Lippert-Rasmussen’s Relational Egalitarianism: Living as Equals, whose stated goal is “to argue that relational egalitarianism is considerably more complex than has been noted so far” and “to clarify its nature and develop the theory further…by offering a detailed analysis of the concept of relating as equals” (p. 20). Lippert-Rasmussen achieves this in three steps: first, by exploring the nature of the relational ideal of equality; second, by elaborating on its theoretical appeal; and third, by showing how distributive and relational ideals of equality may complement each other, such that we can integrate elements from the two. To my mind, among the book’s deepest insights is that the relational ideal of equality admits of variation in ways that parallel—along many of the same dimensions—the distributive ideal of equality (p. 123). The important upshot of this is that those drawn to the relational ideal of equality must take a stand on many of the disputes that have occupied proponents of the distributive ideal in recent years.

Lippert-Rasmussen’s defense of the relational ideal of equality is complex, but its core appears in chapter 6, where he argues that we should conceive of the ideal in deontic terms. On this view, what explains why we ought to relate to one another as equals is not that complying with these demands is valuable. More specifically, it is not the fact that this is good for us, or that it produces a valuable state of affairs, or that doing so is impersonally valuable—though these things may be true as well. Instead, what grounds this ideal is simply that “we are one another’s moral equals and in relating as equals we honour that fact” (p. 170). The appeal of this view is that it enables us to make sense of the distinctive kind of injustice suffered by victims of domination, exploitation, and oppression.

In Rawls’s Egalitarianism, Alexander Kaufman’s ambitions are more varied and complicated, and he does not intend to vindicate the relational ideal of equality as such. Rather, Kaufman’s principal aim is to defend the egalitarian credentials of John Rawls’s work (pp. 2–3), and in the course of doing this, he expounds on the ways in which Rawls’s relational approach is superior to those favored by advocates of the distributive ideal of equality. This is most clear in part II of the book, in which Kaufman focuses on the substance of Rawls’s account of democratic equality and defends it against misrepresentation from more distributively minded critics. In part I, Kaufman addresses more foundational issues, emphasizing the demands and implications of Rawls’s constructivist methodology. Among other things, what is impressive about Kaufman’s analysis is the way in which he draws widely on aspects of Rawls’s work that are overlooked by critics whose objections trade on inaccurate interpretations of Rawls’s commitments.

Throughout the book, Kaufman corrects what he takes to be a series of only loosely connected interpretive errors, and as far as I can tell, he does not believe that there is a single mistake out of which the others grow. This makes it difficult to summarize Kaufman’s main arguments. One claim that stands out, though, is that he believes that Rawls’s justice as fairness is surprisingly well placed to accommodate concerns relating to individual responsibility. This is significant because the most common charge by friends of the distributive ideal of equality against Rawls is that, in measuring individuals’ level of advantage in terms of their possession of various goods, justice as fairness overlooks the fact that it may make a moral difference whether an individual fares less well than others because of actions for which we should hold her responsible. Kaufman’s response is to remind the reader that, even under justice as fairness, an individual’s entitlements will depend heavily on how she acts. This is because Rawls’s account of justice is procedural, meaning that it authorizes a set of social and economic institutions within which individuals may act as see fit: “if the basic structure of society is properly designed, the distribution of income that is generated by individual efforts within social institutions will be just whatever it happens to be” (p. 172).

There are many fundamental differences between Lippert-Rasmussen’s and Kaufman’s books. Perhaps the chief of these is that, whereas Lippert-Rasmussen navigates philosophically uncharted territory, Kaufman sets out to re-map familiar material but in a more detailed and accurate way. But these books also have a great deal in common, especially in terms of their general approach and the methods that the authors employ. In particular, both texts are for philosophical purists. Although each explores issues that have implications of enormous social and political importance, to varying degrees the authors step back from political passions and instead engage in meticulous and open reflection about the ideal of equality, as well as how it relates to other moral and political phenomena. The notable exception to this is the final chapter of Rawls’s Egalitarianism, in which Kaufman brings Rawls’s insights to bear on “poverty and income inequality in the United States” (p. 232).

This approach is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, these authors realize a depth of exposition that is lacking from rival discussions of these themes. This is a remarkable achievement. On the other hand, I suspect that some readers would appreciate more guidance regarding the social and political payoffs of the authors’ findings. For example, although it seems to me that the arguments in each of these books have ramifications for the moral status of the market—an issue with which advocates of the distributive ideal of equality have long been concerned—neither author spells out these details at any length. Political philosophers need not be in the business of writing manifestos, but perhaps greater attention to the injustices that we endure would broaden interest in their claims.

Both authors are careful to engage not only with competing accounts of the ideal of equality but also with specific versions developed and defended by influential political philosophers. Using a distinction drawn by Lippert-Rasmussen, we might say that these texts are both theory-focused and theorist-focused (pp. 34–36). Kaufman is explicit about this, noting that his goal is “to address various misunderstandings and confusions regarding [Rawls’s] argument and views” (p. 2). He thinks it important to expose these mistakes not only for interpretive reasons but also because doing so sheds light on a range of theoretical disagreements in contemporary political philosophy. Something similar is true for Lippert-Rasmussen, who identifies a series of deficiencies with existing accounts of the relational ideal of equality (especially those advanced by Elizabeth Anderson and Samuel Scheffler), but who also explores what we can say in favor of views of this more general kind.

However, it is significant that, at least for the most part, both authors eschew a problem-focused approach, according to which we use the tools of political philosophy to resolve controversial policy disputes that divide political opponents. I think that this is a shame, at least for the philosophical impurists, like me, who are interested in the ideal of equality primarily because of its implication for how we should understand the ways in which injustice afflicts its victims, as well as what we can learn about the appropriate design of our social and political institutions.

In part because of this, although both works are highly ambitious, they also leave lots of substantive questions unanswered. In Lippert-Rasmussen’s case, he depicts one way to think about the relational ideal of equality, and although he dismisses several possible defenses of this idea, he raises a number of other questions on which he does not take a clear stand, such as whether this ideal is an impersonally valuable one (pp. 166–70). More generally, my impression is that Lippert-Rasmussen’s main role is to serve as a tour guide, describing the relevant part of the moral landscape and detailing the forks in the road where different versions of the relational ideal of equality diverge. To this end, he regularly and helpfully reminds us that “relational egalitarianism might be specified in different ways” (p. 121), without committing to one version in particular.

Similarly, Kaufman explains how various misinterpretations of Rawls’s work have fueled critics’ objections, but he then leaves open the possibility that revised versions of these objections might retain some force. This is most striking in the conclusion of his treatment of G. A. Cohen’s famous basic structure objection, in which Kaufman writes, “It is unfortunate that Cohen presents his argument…as an internal critique of Rawls, because the argument could be developed more persuasively as an external critique” (p. 150). Although Kaufman elaborates on this suggestion, he does so only very briefly. This might be sensible given his theory-focused and theorist-focused approach, but for those of us more interested in social and political problems, it would have been nice to learn more about Kaufman’s substantive commitments here.

Despite these reservations, these books remain deeply impressive scholarly works that greatly expand the egalitarian’s repertoire, bringing to light neglected aspects of the relational ideal of equality and its relationship to other values and ideals. Kaufman and Lippert-Rasmussen give us a great deal on which to chew, and I hope that they provoke further discussion of these issues and their associated political questions.