Christopher Kelly's book explores Rousseau's view of the role of intellectuals in relationship to politics. As Socrates observed, different rules and customs govern the polity than those that guide the life of philosophers. Should philosopher/intellectuals become involved in realms where truth is manipulated, where controlling the terms of debate translates into political power? Rousseau's view of these compelling questions turns out to be just as complicated as that of Plato. This book defends Rousseau's sense of himself as a “responsible” author. He aspired to be a “new sort of author and challenged his contemporaries to evaluate themselves in light of his standard” (p. 4). According to Kelly, Rousseau demonstrates responsibility in signing his name to his work, practicing self-censorship, and putting the goals of the polity and his identity as good citizen before any desire to air the truth in one's role as intellectual.

What intellectuals should and should not say, however, depends on the nature of the political situation in which they find themselves. In chapters on censorship and the arts, Kelly reevaluates old Rousseauian debates about the intellectual's role in the corrupt versus the good society. In corrupt societies, intellectuals should seek the truth, they should air it, and they should sign their names to it. In Old Regime France, Rousseau desired to reach a wide audience of readers and he wanted his identity known. But getting one's voice heard under eighteenth-century rules of censorship was a tricky business. Kelly's first chapter discusses the reasons Rousseau signed his name to the great majority of his works, while his contemporaries, such as Voltaire, mostly followed the accepted practice of remaining anonymous. Supporters of anonymity argued that it protected writers from retribution, allowed them to speak the truth fearlessly, and guarded against the temptations of self-promotion. Rousseau, however, accused Voltaire of playing games and of making opponents look ridiculous by using personal attacks and satire. Kelly makes the case for the novelty of Rousseauian authorship and for his boldness in taking risks. For Rousseau, this was a self-conscious policy; he set out to make himself into a “conspicuous model of behavior” (p. 28).

As for Rousseau's practice of authorship in the corrupt regime, Kelly makes a compelling argument. Rousseau was braver than others, he was willing to expose himself to the authorities, and he was seeking the truth about politics as an intellectual. The argument gets less convincing when Kelly discusses Rousseau's views on the good society. In the good society, philosophers also have a clear responsibility. There are times, it seems, when seeking the truth directly conflicts with promoting the good. According to Kelly's Rousseau, it is irresponsible to seek the truth for its own sake or even to amuse oneself with the life of philosophy. Self-censorship, as well as state censorship, is necessary to preserve the good and create good citizens. Philosophers should “behave as good citizens first and philosophers second” (p. 46). As Kelly puts it, “Rousseau is prepared to encourage the unorthodox not to advance their dissenting opinions publicly and to speak and act as if they accept all the sentiments of sociability” (p. 40). Moreover, “the most dangerous intellectuals are those who attempt to transform political life by subjecting the sentiments of sociability to critical scrutiny” (p. 45).

But should the “good” society not be open to criticism, even harsh criticism? Time and again, Kelly applauds Rousseau's desire to be the kind of public intellectual whose certainty of his own virtue (and ability to direct the public good) excuses political scrutiny of the issues. Yet who decides on the content of the good? Here, all the problems with Rousseau's “general will” should be remembered. Though Kelly rehearses arguments of critics who charge Rousseau with “coercive pathology” (p. 117), undermining free consent and indoctrinating and misleading citizens, he continually returns to the point that Rousseau's philosophic activity was entirely compatible with his devotion to justice. According to Kelly, “Roussseauian authorship requires the ability to distinguish between respectable and unrespectable prejudices … between useful and other truths” (p. 49).

Ultimately, for Rousseau and for Kelly, the role of intellectuals in the good society is to bind citizens to the nation. I remind readers that this is only one interpretation of Rousseau's politics. Kelly acknowledges that Rousseau is the author of Julie, a romantic novel, and that some readers might take away another view. But apparently they would be wrong! Kelly observes that “Rousseau Judge of Jean-Jacques is an extended demonstration of the way misreadings of Rousseau and his books reflect on their readers” (p. 113). In readings of Julie and Emile, Kelly warns us to remember Rousseau's insistence on independence, the decadence of romantic love, and the “incompatibility of novels and republican citizenship” (p. 112).

Scholars will certainly find Rousseau as Author well worth reading. As a conservative defense of Rousseau, the questions are compelling and important and the readings subtle and interesting. Yet though Kelly casts a fresh eye on familiar themes such as philosophy and politics, censorship and the arts, the behavior of citizens, and truth and the public good, in my view, his eye is too focused on defending Rousseau's philosophy against his democratic critics.