The ideas of the bloodless and “glorious Revolution” of 1688, and especially those of John Locke, inspired the Founding Fathers of the United States and, both directly and indirectly, influenced the French Revolution. In the nineteenth century a successful Britain also made her great contribution to European civilization, and this not least in terms of her political ideas and of her parliamentary institutions. Politically it would be quite accurate to say that she led the world.

In this present generation, however, England is in a poorer way as a fount of political ideas than she has been for centuries. The great succession of Occam and Fortescue, More and Hooker, Bacon, Hobbes, Locke, Hume, Bentham, the Mills, Green, even Spencer, perhaps Bradley, seems to be broken. Many British writers are too content to subedit Hegel or Marx and to explain what they really meant. The most eminent now living, Lord Russell, is primarily a mathematical philosopher.

By tradition public administration is regarded as a division of political science. Woodrow Wilson set the stage for this concept in his original essay identifying public administration as a subject worthy of special study, and spokesmen for both political science and public administration have accepted it since. Thus Leonard White, in his 1930 article on the subject in the Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences, recognizes public administration as “a branch of the field of political science.” Luther Gulick follows suit, observing in 1937 that “Public administration is thus a division of political science ….” So generally has this word got around that it has come to the notice of the sociologists, as is indicated in a 1950 report of the Russell Sage Foundation which refers to “political science, including public administration….” “Pure” political scientists and political scientists with a public administration slant therefore are not alone in accepting this doctrine, which obviously enjoys a wide and authoritative currency.

But if public administration is reckoned generally to be a child of political science, it is in some respects a strange and unnatural child; for there is a feeling among political scientists, substantial still if mayhap not so widespread as formerly, that academicians who profess public administration spend their time fooling with trifles. It was a sad day when the first professor of political science learned what a manhole cover is! On their part, those who work in public administration are likely to find themselves vaguely resentful of the lack of cordiality in the house of their youth.

In the chilling atmosphere of the cold war, attention is more readily turned to the politics of power and to concepts of the national interest than to international law and the services it may perform. Indeed, two distinguished writers have recently warned us against what George Kennan calls “the legalisticmoralistic approach to international problems,” or “the belief that it should be possible to suppress the chaotic and dangerous aspirations of governments in the international field by the acceptance of some system of legal rules and restraints,” “some formal criteria of a juridical nature by which the permissible behavior of states could be defined,” instead of by dealing with “awkward conflicts of national interest … on their merits with a view to finding the solutions least unsettling to the stability of international life.” Instead of “making ourselves slaves of the concepts of international law and morality,” Kennan writes, we should “confine these concepts to the unobtrusive, almost feminine, function of the gentle civilizer of national self-interest in which they find their true value.”

In spite of later claims that it had been the leader of the anti-fascist camp and of the Slav world from the beginning of the second World War, the Soviet Union followed a strictly Russian policy, neither anti-fascist nor Pan-Slav, from August, 1939, to June, 1941. This policy clearly foreshadowed a nationalist revival of the language and aspirations that had been most characteristic of Old Russia but were assumed to have been definitely buried in the ten November days of 1917 which shook the world. During these two years not the slightest sympathy for the Czechs and Poles suffering under German occupation was expressed. Indeed, although Leninist communism during World War I had conducted a violent defeatist propaganda compaign in both warring camps, the subversive communist propaganda that was resumed in 1939 was directed only against the democratic nations. “Moreover, officially, even ostentatiously, help was granted to the camp of fascism so that, from 1939 to 1941, the Soviet Union could be considered a non-belligerent partner of the Axis. From the policy of benevolent neutrality towards the Axis the Soviet Union was removed against its will. Circumstances made it an ally of the democracies. This change was performed reluctantly, only because no other choice was left.”

The new German Constitution, the Basic Law for the German Federal Republic of May 23, 1949, provides in Article 92 that the highest judicial power shall be vested in a Federal Constitutional Court. Although the Bonn Basic Law thus created a new institution, it is an institution with a precedent in the former Weımar Constitution of 1919. In accordance with the latter, the Constitutional Tribunal (Staatsgerichtshof) had jurisdiction over constitutional controversies within any Land which had no tribunal of its own for the adjustment of such controversies, as well as over controversies, other than civil law matters, among the various Laender or between the Reich and one of the Laender. And the Supreme Court (Reichsgericht), as the highest authority, could establish finally whether disputed Land statutes were compatible with the federal Constitution.

The Basic Law, however, grants the new Federal Constitutional Court considerably wider jurisdiction than that accorded either to the Constitutional Tribunal or to the Supreme Court under the Weimar Constitution. The Federal Constitutional Court must, above all, arbitrate both disputes which may arise among the constitutional organs of the Republic, the so-called “federal constitutional” cases, and the so-called “conflicting rules” (Normenkollisionen) cases—the latter designating disputes involving the compatibility of the written federal law or Land law with the Basic Law, as well as the compatibility of the Land law with the federal law.

The problem of inconstancy in party affiliation has generated occasional research interest for a half-century now. We still know very little about the political behavior of that segment of the electorate which presumably is highly irregular in party allegiance. We have a penchant, however, for generalizing about the extent of independent voting, the characteristics of the independents, and, particularly, the significance of the independent vote for campaign strategy and the political system. Today, with another national election approaching, a summary of the status of our research and the presentation of new findings may be in order.

The twenty-second Amendment to the Constitution of the United States, which became effective February 26, 1951, would seem to ensure that the election of Franklin D. Roosevelt to a third presidential term will long remain unique in American history. Yet ratification of the amendment was achieved so quietly as almost to suggest a conspiracy of inattention. Even in political science literature the wisdom of so specific a limitation on popular choice has been little explored. Given the periodicity and tempo of professional journals, indeed, there was scant opportunity for such consideration concurrent with legislative consideration of the amendment.

Quick and easy approval of the amendment probably came incident to a subsidence in Roosevelt's popularity, which in turn constituted in determining part, a belated slap at him while attention was turned to later problems and personalities. Almost any recent attempt at objective discussion of the issue would have been suspect, presumed to reflect chiefly a disguised personal or party affection or hate. Perhaps more thorough consideration of the important matters involved will come much later, when an acute national desire for the retention of some leader is frustrated.

Out of the middle-class businessman's “Efficiency and Economy Movement” that reached full strength in the second decade of the twentieth century came a series of innovations designed to place government “on a business basis” and to weaken the power of the political parties. The movement was inspired both by the example of the success of the corporate structure in trade and industry and by revulsion against the low standards of morality to be found in many sectors of political party activity around the turn of the century. The contemporary brand of politician had recently been exposed by the “muck-rakers” and the prestige of the parties had reached a very low level.

Of the numerous ideas and mechanisms adopted as a result of the reform movement, one of the most unusual was that of election without party designation. Early in the twentieth century, under the theory that judges are neutral referees, not political officers, and that political activities should therefore be discouraged in the choosing of them, many communities initiated “nonpartisan” elections (the term that is usually applied) in the balloting for judicial posts.

The assumption that the general public reacts rationally to its changing political and economic environment is basic to democratic theory; for if rational reaction to the complex of events having broad political significance is not general but is limited to a minority of the public, then the rational few must govern the irrational many. Yet this democratic assumption has been little explored empirically. Protagonists of government responsible to the general public assert it; antagonists deny it—both groups basing their judgment on the common sense of everyday observation or on the rigorous a priori requirements of their own political theories, values, and ideologies or of those of such theorists as Plato, Machiavelli, Hobbes, Locke, Rousseau, and Thomas Jefferson.

The assumption cannot be examined indirectly and inferentially from analysis of reactions to nonpolitical stimuli. It is of no political consequence that an individual sensibly responds to a sharp object that touches his body by getting out of the way. It is of no political consequence as such that the hungry individual responds by seeking or fantasying food. It is of political consequence when individuals respond to high prices of food or to the threat of war or the prospect of peace by forming attitudes which are or may become the basis for political action.

“Responsiveness,” “responsibility,” and “majority rule” comprise a trio of terms that are basic to the discipline of political science, and particularly to the analysis of democratic political institutions; yet so undeveloped is our science that they represent apples of discord rather than areas of agreement. Where we should have clear concepts for scientific analysis, we are confronted rather with thought receptacles whose unexplored ambiguities constitute standing solicitations to fallacy—solicitations, it may be added, that receive a bountiful response. In view of this situation, it is little wonder that, when we go beyond description to evaluation, we find the doctors in violent disagreement.

This article is not limited to definitions. The writer takes a stand on more than one of the issues that plague and divide students of the democratic political process. It is written, therefore, not only in the firm belief that terms ought to be defined, but also with the conviction that in this case an analysis of meanings will lead almost automatically to a resolution of some of the mooted issues, while contributing substantially to a rational appraisal of others.

There is an old aphorism that fire is a good servant but a bad master. Something like this aphorism is frequently applied to the appropriate role of the bureaucracy in government. Because bureaucracy is often viewed as tainted with an ineradicable lust for power, it is alleged that, like fire, it needs constant control to prevent its erupting from beneficient servitude into dangerous and tyrannical mastery.

The folklore of constitutional theory relegates the bureaucracy to somewhat the same low but necessary estate as Plato does the appetitive element of the soul. In the conventional dichotomy between policy and administration, administration is the Aristotelian slave, properly an instrument of action for the will of another, capable of receiving the commands of reason but incapable of reasoning. The amoral concept of administrative neutrality is the natural complement of the concept of bureaucracy as instrument; for according to this view the seat of reason and conscience resides in the legislature, whatever grudging concession may be made to the claims of the political executive, and a major, if not the major, task of constitutionalism is the maintenance of the supremacy of the legislature over the bureaucracy. The latter's sole constitutional role is one of neutral docility to the wishes of the day's legislative majority.