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Privileges are generally disfavored as impeding the truth. But in this chapter, I propose a novel way to think of privilege altogether: privilege as a means of resistance, a tool to oppose unjust systems and laws. Current privilege scholarship essentially assumes faith in the adversarial legal system and the interest in soliciting, collecting, and admitting all available evidence. This assumption implicitly accepts that the adversarial system is valid, and the substantive law that privilege limits is also valid. However, if we question the legitimacy of the adversarial system and the substantive laws it upholds, the cost-benefit analysis shifts. Privilege could serve as an instrument of resistance by prioritizing the preservation of relationships over the legal system’s pursuit of truth.
This article investigates why restorative justice in France—legally recognized since 2014 and broadly endorsed by political actors—remains only marginally implemented, particularly in cases of gender‑based violence (GBV). Drawing on qualitative research, including interviews, observations, and parliamentary debate analysis, the study shows that limited uptake cannot be explained primarily by feminist resistance or public reluctance. Instead, restorative justice has been shaped by blame‑avoidance strategies, institutional ambivalence, and the downward delegation of responsibility to under‑resourced local actors. Presented as a right but maintained in a quasi‑experimental mode, it relies heavily on the discretionary, often overtime labour of frontline practitioners. This governance configuration reframes, a statutory right into an optional service, preserves existing penal hierarchies, and obscures the structural nature of GBV. The article highlights how symbolic reforms may be neutralized through managerial practices and calls for comparative research on institutional designs that enable more consistent implementation.
Although criminal trials are primarily designed to repress individual acts, a new role has emerged with the third generation of jihadist trials. They have become a ‘forum’, giving voice to different actors in order to reconstruct a socio-historical phenomenon in all its complexity, as we have seen with truth commissions in post-conflict countries. These trials have become a space where the defendants recount their path to radicalization, the victims relate their trauma and expectations, the experts situate the phenomenon in a political, social and medical context, and the police and security services expose their work and their difficulties. The rich narratives exposed by the different stakeholders, and most notably by hundreds of victims, are at the center of this organic process, which is being constantly developed by the actors themselves. Obviously, the trial was strictly framed by criminal law procedure, but this framework was partly circumvented, enriched, and even subverted during the trial. This chapter discusses the Charlie Hebdo and Bataclan trials and the emergence of a hybrid procedure, which introduced important elements of restorative justice.
Reparation programmes for redressing human rights harms form a central pillar of transitional justice. Reviews about the success of such programmes, however, remain mixed: in terms of outcomes, they often fail to meet the justice needs of affected populations; in terms of process, there is agreement about the importance of meaningful participation, but only a minimal understanding of how to carry this out effectively. To develop a sound theoretical framework to guide actors interested in developing reparations programmes, this chapter builds on the theory of relational justice to provide both an instrumental and legal justification for inclusive processes in the design, implementation, and evaluation of reparations programmes. We argue that reparative processes should be mindful of building and repairing relations, especially between affected populations and the government that failed to protect them. We conclude by proposing four criteria we believe are fundamental for taking a relational justice approach to reparations.
In this chapter the authors provide critical analysis of the child welfare system as the basis for cultivating the necessary reflection and action among supervisors, leaders, and practitioners to co-create truly anti-oppressive approaches to supervision and leadership. Utilizing a Black Critical Race Theory/BlackCrit lens (applying the principles of Critical Race Theory exclusively to the unique and significantly marginalized experiences of Black people) the authors interrogate the oppressive practices and motivations of historic and modern child welfare systems across the United States that are disproportionately harmful to Black children and families. Motivated to foster hope and facilitate systems change, the authors utilize case studies to support skills development in anti-oppressive supervision and leadership, while re-imagining the potential for an anti-racist child empowerment and support system for Black children and families. Readers are invited to embrace tools and skills that digress from strategies informed by white supremacy and social control. Ultimately, strategies presented in the chapter lay a foundation for rebuilding and reimagining supportive processes that preserve families and children.
With the exceptional COVID-19 circumstances in early 2020, public service co-production went through a push towards digitalisation. Using normalisation process theory as the basis for analysis, the article looks at the immediate effects of digitalisation on restorative practices, which is a co-produced approach to delivering justice. A comparative case study conducted in Estonia, Finland, Ireland and Portugal showed that digitalisation meant a more directive role for the mediators and more responsibility for the citizens in organising the service context. The process became more business-like, which put some integral aspects of restorative justice at risk, such as trust building and feeling connected. The launch of digital restorative services depended more on service providers’ readiness to try digital solutions and less on service experience before digitalisation.
In an era when democracy is claimed to be in crisis, citizens are portrayed as increasingly distrustful of politicians and political institutions, and change, if any, is expected to be coming from extra-institutional spaces, Albert Dzur invites us to seek and find the seeds of democratic change within the existing institutions of representative democracy. Dzur’s work captures the difference democratic professionals can make in these spaces and tells us about the fresh approach they bring to their everyday routines in schools, community centers, government agencies, and even prisons. What links democratic professionals in different institutions is their aspiration to create power-sharing arrangements and collaborative thinking skills in places that are usually characterized as hierarchical and non-participatory. Dzur explains how democratic professionals transform the way institutions function and find solutions to collective problems. Yet such transformative practices often elude the attention of democratic theorists as they fall outside of the established notions of democracy and democratic change. The following interview focuses on the relationship between democratic theory and practice, the difference between social movement actors and democratic professionals, and the challenges of bringing democratic change and sustaining it in existing institutions, organizations and work places.
We explore how societies that have endured severe human rights violations confront and address their past and examine international mechanisms designed to protect human rights. This chapter asks: How can a society be rebuilt and made functional in the aftermath of human rights abuses? How can a culture of human rights be fostered? Should the pursuit of justice for perpetrators take precedence, or should reconciliation and forgiveness be the primary focus? We delve into the concept of transitional justice, its meaning, the key challenges to its implementation, and the effectiveness of various mechanisms in restoring justice and peace.
I end the book by summarizing the goals of the project and noting future possible directions for researchers and practitioners. The purposes were to strengthen the connections between peace education, restorative justice, and psychology, while specifically offering conceptualized peace as a theoretical framework to richer understandings of youth cognition and identity related to contributing to building positive peace. The goal, however, was not simply to articulate a theoretical framework, but also to make connections to critical perspectives and application in programming and schools. The second part of the chapter thus turns to future directions in the fields of peace education and restorative justice. I discuss how conceptualized peace can help address questions in each before arguing that it could be applied as well to questions related to youth and climate change, racial/ethnic and economic injustice, and technological change.
The second empirical example of conceptualized peace presents a study of young people who were former high school restorative justice leaders. By presenting an example not explicitly related to peace, the chapter helps expand understanding the utility and applicability of the framework, as well as the methods that can be used with it. The research was a retrospective investigation of the role that their high school restorative justice experience played in these young people’s development. While they may not be representative of all students, their experiences and the impact these carry with them years later have value for thinking about restorative justice and development. Their understandings of restorative justice and the roles it has played in their lives speak to its potential to provide tools for internal peace, coping strategies for stress and interpersonal conflict, and opportunities to see themselves as able to promote peace in their immediate social circles and by taking on problematic systems.
This opening chapter introduces the reader to the main focus of the book, as well as how the author came to study peace education and restorative justice. The book aims to more deeply integrate an understanding of how young people come to form ideas about themselves with how they make meaning of their socio-ecological contexts. Peace education and restorative justice are two fields where we can more deeply integrate psychology into the project of building more harmonious social worlds. The chapter ends by detailing how the rest of the book is organized. The chapters are structured under three sections. First are the backgrounds, definitions, and opportunities in each field. These are then integrated into a theoretical framework – conceptualized peace – with examples of studies to provide further definition. Finally, the book ends with methodological approaches to applying conceptualized peace and future directions.
I begin the first section of the book by introducing restorative justice, providing background about its development, and summarizing current conversations in the field. My aim is to begin our journey with an orientation to how restorative justice in schools has developed, the debates about best practices and questions about its implementation, and gaps in the research on its potential. Over the last two decades, the use of restorative justice has grown considerably in schools, partially in response to increasing awareness that punitive systems have negative consequences for students and school communities. Its implementation, however, has been varied and highly contextual. As I summarize current question in the field, I therefore highlight that even as much research has explored its potential to impact certain in-school measures – attendance, school climate, behavioral concerns – there is still considerable conversation around best practices and how it is linked to important developmental outcomes.
This chapter offers a political and institutional history of the “most expensive endeavor of restorative justice” ever undertaken, though even this monumental effort pales in comparison with the damage inflicted by the Nazis. Focusing on Germany with an eye toward pan-European developments, it traces the procedures and eligibility, as well as efforts to block, both the restitution of lost property and reparations for past suffering. Restitution and reparations were initially conceptualized broadly, though, over time, Jewish victims became prominent among the recipients. Other Nazi victim groups (e.g., Sinti and Roma, homosexuals, etc.) sometimes faced even greater obstacles to legal recognition and successful claims. The chapter emphasizes the challenges faced by all surviving Nazi victims – Jews and non-Jews alike – in claiming due restitution for their suffering and the grievous harm inflicted on them during the Third Reich.
This interdisciplinary qualitative research on Uganda combines an empirical approach with an analysis of theoretical studies. It argues that the retributive-oriented state justice system should take a more hybrid approach by absorbing the restorative method of traditional justice systems arbitrated by community leaders to improve the way sexual and gender-based violence (SGBV) cases of refugees and asylum-seekers are addressed. The goal is to examine the interlinkages of restorative and retributive justice and why both systems should be better integrated to enhance ways of addressing SGBV. It is argued that there will be a positive impact on people in Uganda, including refugees who have suffered SGBV, if such an integration of both systems occurs. Drawing from interviews, it uses a theoretical framework of direct, structural and cultural violence within the continuum of violence. In this context, the study argues for a hybrid approach to depatriarchalize domestic justice systems, whether retributive or restorative justice, to contribute to better and more victim-friendly systems that consider the views and hopes of SGBV survivors.
Chapter 12 looks at the abolition movement, primarily as it targets prisons but also with respect to its stance on the police. As a foil, the chapter reacts to an article entitled The Dangerous Few: Taking Seriously Prison Abolition and Its Skeptics, in which Thomas Frampton proffers several reasons why those who want to abolish prisons should not budge from their position even for offenders who are considered dangerous. This chapter rebuts each of these reasons. In the process of doing so, it demonstrates why a criminal law “minimalist” approach to prisons is preferable to abolition, not just when dealing with the dangerous few but also as a means of protecting the nondangerous many. It argues that a minimalist regime patterned on preventive justice precepts can radically reduce reliance on prisons and on the police, without the loss in crime prevention capacity and legitimacy that is likely to come with abolition.
Although criminal trials are primarily designed to repress individual acts, a new role has emerged in the era of French jihadist trials. They have transformed into a ‘forum’ giving voice to different actors to comprehend the phenomenon in all its complexity, as in truth commissions: defendants presented their path to radicalization, victims related their trauma, experts situated jihadism in a socio-political context, and security forces disclosed their work. Aligned with forms of justice, which seeks to return control ‘stolen’ by professionals to the parties involved, they also place significant emphasis on emotions, in contrast to the cold, impersonal authority of conventional law, which relies on legal rhetoric, justified to maintain neutrality and impartiality.
Employing an ethnographic approach, we examine this trial as an experiment that challenges the way justice is administered after mass violence. Our premise is that this judicial experiment can propose a new paradigm for the prosecution of mass crimes, in line with contemporary new mechanisms that more effectively incorporate restorative objectives. It could serve as inspiration for procedures in international courts by attributing space to the direct participation of both the victims and the defendants, basing the procedure on narrative rather than strict legalistic rules, and engaging with social science expertise.
This paper gives definitions of terms which have become critical in ensuring that Anglican churches minimize the risk of harm to all who are involved as practitioners or recipients of its ministries. This imperative is rooted in Scripture, not just the recent history or pronouncements of the Lambeth Conference 2022. The terms ‘Safeguarding’, ‘Safe Ministry’ and ‘Safe Church’ (SC) are set out with reference to the ‘Lambeth Calls’. This paper explores why such terms have come to the forefront of current theological praxis, notes historical iterations of such matters and asks why some Anglican churches or provinces may resist adopting this Lambeth Call. It offers both an apologetic for the universal adoption of SC practices and a scriptural and dominical mandate for them. The paper identifies theological and scriptural principles on which SC theory and practice might be grounded. Anglican churches and provinces are encouraged to develop a theory and practice of SC pertinent to their environment rather than adhere to abstract universal prescriptions which risk irrelevance amidst cultural and contextual particularity.
This chapter explores the relationship between education and a school’s punishment and disciplinary practices. Distinct from discipline, punishment is defined partly in terms of its attempt to express moral disapproval. While there are serious criticisms of the use of punishment in educational settings, punishment is largely justified in school in terms of its ability to foster certain sorts of educative conversations. Not all punishment is justified: the particular sort of punishment, and the context that surrounds it, must match the educational nature of the school environment. The punishment must send the right educational messages and accomplish legitimate educational goals. The context of punishment that best supports these goals can be found in the restorative justice framework.
At the core of any legal decision is an assumption that the decision will be “fair,” yet this is an elusive term. A close study of cases involving criminal defendants with mental disabilities shows that many (perhaps most) of the decisions involving this cohort are not “fair” in the contexts of due process and justice. If legal decisions reflect principles such as procedural justice, restorative justice, and therapeutic jurisprudence, the chances of such fairness will be significantly enhanced. This chapter explains why this goal of fairness, in the context of these cases, can never be met absent a consideration of the virulence of sanism and pretextuality, along with the misuse of heuristics and false “ordinary common sense.” These factors enable much of society to ignore gray areas of human behavior, and predispose fact-finders to endorse beliefs in accord with their prior experiences.
There are strong moral reasons to acknowledge that third parties can have the standing to forgive. Third-party refusals to forgive can reinforce the moral agency and value of women and disrupt the gendering of forgiveness. Third-party forgiveness can also be crucial for restorative justice aims, like recognizing the value of wrongdoers. Lastly, many victim-only accounts of forgiveness are problematic and utilize an individualistic conception of the self that reinforces the logic of misogyny. Victim-only accounts of forgiveness can also restrict focus to the victim's suffering, thereby neglecting the importance of healing and the relevance of third-party forgiveness for facilitating healing.