Wenar,	Leif.	Blood	Oil:	Tyrants,	Violence,	and	the	Rules	that	Run	the	World. New	York:	Oxford	University	Press,	2016.	Pp.	552.	$34.95	(cloth). On	its	face,	Blood	Oil	is	a	vivid	tale	about	the	rules	governing	international	trade in	natural	resources	-how	those	rules	implicate	consumers	in	a	web	of	violence and	theft,	and	the	assets	we	have	at	our	disposal	to	turn	things	around.	But	there is	more	to	Blood	Oil	than	meets	the	eye:	a	morality	play	in	which	the	main	plot	is suffused	with	the	broader	themes	of	division	and	unity	in	human	society.	The ultimate	ideal,	we	learn,	is	a	society	that	maximizes	"the	unity	of	identities,	freely expressed"	(370). We	start	with	the	action	downstage,	which	recounts	in	sordid	detail	the "authoritarianism,	corruption,	and	violence"	that	disfigures	"rent-addicted" countries,	countries	that	are	"addicted	to	oil	money"	(10).	The	defining	feature	of these	countries	is	their	heavy	reliance	on	revenues	from	the	sale	of	natural resources.	Like	alcohol	and	drug	addicts,	not	all	resource	rent	addicts	are dysfunctional.	Like	Winston	Churchill	with	respect	to	alcohol,	Norway	is	"taking more	out	of	its	addictive	substance	than	that	substance	is	taking	out	of"	Norway (14).	This	is	largely	due	to	"the	strength	of	its	people	when	large	resource	rents [began]	to	come	in"	(14f).	Examples	like	Norway	show	that	a	rent-addicted country	can	avoid	political	dysfunction	when	its	body	politic	has	"a	hardy constitution"	and	"self-control	[is]	ingrained	in	[its]	civic	character"	(14). But	few	rent-addicted	countries	have	fared	so	well.	The	central	characters	are countries	like	Angola,	DR	Congo,	Equatorial	Guinea,	Iraq,	Nigeria,	and	Saudi Arabia	-rent-addicted	countries	in	which	corrupt	and	repressive	regimes	sit atop	societies	riven	by	chaos,	poverty,	and	violence.	Resource	rents	provide these	regimes	with	an	"easy	source	of	power",	leaving	them	unaccountable	to	the people	they	rule	(23;	25-6).	These	regimes	can	use	rents	to	buy	all	the	tools	of repression	required	to	quash	dissent	(30-33).	They	can	use	rents	to	construct "clientelistic	hierarchies",	spreading	around	patronage	in	exchange	for	political support	(34-39).	And	rents	fuel	civil	conflict	through	multifarious	mechanisms (ch.	4). Resource	disorders	do	not	result	from	the	mere	possession	of	natural	resources, but	from	the	receipt	of	revenues	from	selling	those	resources:	"The	essence	of	the problem	is	that	natural	assets	flow	out	to	the	world	and	the	world's	money	flows back	to	the	despots,	to	the	defalcators,	and	to	the	dogs	of	war"	(64).	"The	world's money"	-our	money	(xlix-l,	76).	We,	the	consumers,	are	the	ones	propping	up strongmen	and	warlords.	And	we	can	hardly	avoid	consuming	oil	(xxxvi).	Alas, we	cannot	even	focus	our	consumption	on	ethical	companies	and	countries	-the supply	chains	are	too	entangled	to	trace	(xix). For	the	conscientious	person,	this	will	seem	a	desperate	situation	-it's	surely	a hopeless	task	to	avoid	personally	contributing	to	resource	disorders.	But Wenar's	subject	is	not	personal	morality.	Turning	our	attention	upstage,	Blood Oil	spotlights	the	rules	that	"put[]	consumers	into	business	with	some	of	the world's	most	violent	and	divisive	men"	(76).	Wenar	takes	us	to	the	sites	of resource	extraction.	Here,	we	find	the	rule	that	governs	the	initial	sale	of resources:	"effectiveness",	or	"might	makes	right".	"Whoever	can	maintain physical	control	over	a	country's	territory	by	any	means	gains	the	legal	right	to sell	off	that	territory's	resources"	(72).	With	respect	to	natural	resources, property	rights	are	gained	at	gunpoint. Wenar's	diagnosis	will	be	familiar	to	many;	Thomas	Pogge	has	been	decrying this	"international	resource	privilege"	for	more	than	a	decade	(see,	e.g.,	World Poverty	and	Human	Rights	[Malden,	MA:	Polity	Press,	2002]).	But	Wenar	adds	a surprise	twist:	this	international	resource	privilege	has	little	to	do	with international	institutions;	there	is	no	treaty	that	codifies	"might	makes	right"	for resources.	Instead,	"all	property	is	local"	(106)	-it	is	our	domestic	laws	that grant	property	rights	to	strongmen	and	warlords.	Effectiveness	-might	makes right	-only	appears	as	an	international	rule	because	convergence	on	that	rule	is nearly	universal	(116-17).	(This	point,	detailed	in	ch.	7,	is	perhaps	the	most interesting	and	novel	part	of	Wenar's	institutional	diagnosis.)	By	choosing	to engage	on	the	basis	of	effectiveness	(chs.	8,	14),	our	governments	make	a mockery	of	property	rights.	We	are	left	with	"no	choice	but	to	consume	[...] endless	pillage"	(247). The	status	quo	is	a	moral	catastrophe.	Yet,	exposing	effectiveness	as	the	rule governing	international	trade	alerts	us	to	the	possibility	of	alternatives.	Perhaps to	our	surprise,	Wenar	says	we	have	ample	reason	to	be	optimistic:	"nearly	every country,	including	all	of	the	major	powers,	has	signed	on	to	the	right	principles" (259).	The	principles	in	question?	Peace,	human	rights,	and	-most	importantly	- popular	sovereignty.	While	effectiveness	has	had	a	long	run	(since	at	least 1648),	on	Wenar's	telling,	events	over	the	past	200	years	manifest	a	steady march	against	the	rule	of	effectiveness.	The	abolition	of	the	slave	trade,	global convergence	on	human	rights	principles,	colonial	independence	-these	events signal	a	shift	from	"might	is	right"	toward	principles	of	"counter	power". International	trade	in	natural	resources	is	the	only	sphere	in	which	effectiveness continues	to	rule. "Popular	sovereignty	is	already	the	world's	ideal"	(266);	it	is	enshrined	in international	documents	like	the	Universal	Declaration	of	Human	Rights,	and	it	is widely	affirmed	in	national	constitutions	(see,	e.g.,	182-83).	Popular	sovereignty has	an	important	corollary:	popular	resource	sovereignty.	This,	too,	is	"all	the world's	ideal"	(195,	207);	this,	too,	is	enshrined	in	international	conventions	and national	constitutions	(190,	194-97).	The	principle	is	simple:	"All	peoples	may, for	their	own	ends,	freely	dispose	of	their	natural	wealth	and	resources"	(196, quoted	from	Article	1	of	the	international	human	rights	Covenants).	True enough,	politicians,	diplomats,	and	lawyers	try	to	muddle	and	twist	the principle's	meaning	to	support	current	practice.	Wenar	turns	these	attempts	at obfuscation	aside	(chs.	11	and	12).	Sovereign	peoples	own	the	resources	in	their territory. Alas,	popular	resource	sovereignty	is	only	"some	of	the	world's	reality"	(207).	A key	barrier	to	its	implementation	is	confusion	regarding	its	practical requirements.	Won't	we	have	to	meddle	in	other	countries'	internal	affairs	to determine	whether	particular	resource	transactions	respect	the	people's property	rights?	Not	really,	says	Wenar.	Popular	resource	sovereignty	requires that	the	people	authorize	the	domestic	property	laws	that	apply	to	resource transactions	(223).	This,	in	turn,	requires	that	citizens	securely	enjoy	basic	civil and	political	liberties;	for	example,	rights	protecting	freedom	of	information, association,	deliberation,	and	dissent	(226-29).	Wherever	these	rights	are insecure	(as	they	are	in	most	rent-addicted	countries),	we	know	the	people's property	rights	are	being	violated. The	principle	required	to	overturn	effectiveness	for	resources	is	already	widely affirmed;	its	practical	requirements	are	clear.	Part	IV	outlines	a	set	of	policy	tools aimed	at	ending	effectiveness	and	making	popular	resource	sovereignty	all	the world's	reality.	The	basic	framework	will	be	familiar	from	Wenar's	earlier	article ("Property	Rights	and	the	Resource	Curse",	Philosophy	&	Public	Affairs	36	[2008]: 2-32):	a	Clean	Trade	Act	that	prohibits	commercial	engagement	with	the	worst violators	of	basic	civil	and	political	rights	(283-88);	a	Clean	Hands	Trust	to collect	money	from	tariffs	imposed	on	trade	partners	who	buy	resources	from the	worst	offenders	(288-92);	and	Rules	of	Engagement	for	dealing	with countries	that	are	bad	but	not	the	worst	of	the	worst	(321-26).	Numerous technical	questions	attend	these	proposals;	Wenar	duly	addresses	many	of	them (292-303). One	feature	worth	highlighting	-a	key	reason	for	optimism	-is	that implementing	these	policies	does	not	require	international	cooperation.	Unlike much	of	the	policy	oriented	work	on	global	justice,	we	need	not	wait	for cooperation	from	(e.g.)	China	or	Russia	to	extract	ourselves	from	the international	system	of	resource	theft.	We	need	only	enact	domestic	laws	that enforce	the	principles	we	already	affirm.	What's	more,	Wenar's	proposals complement	existing	initiatives	-to	penalize	bribery	and	corruption;	to	mandate transparent	corporate	reporting;	to	validate	sources	for	gems	(319).	"So	much	of the	hard	work	has	already	been	done	for	us	by	others"	(259).	What's	left	to	us	is to	take	the	final	step. Philosophers	and	social	scientists	will	find	much	to	contest	in	Wenar's	story.	I raise	just	one	issue:	Why	should	we	commit	to	popular	resource	sovereignty? What's	the	justification	for	endorsing	this	as	our	guiding	principle?	Wenar	does much	to	clarify	the	content	of	this	principle	(e.g.,	202-03,	ch.	12).	But,	at	a	glance, he	has	little	to	say	about	what	justifies	it.	Wenar's	discussion	of	the	"genius"	of the	Universal	Declaration	of	Human	Rights	provides	some	insight	here.	Wenar extols	the	UDHR's	"ecumenical	affirmation"	of	human	rights	without	appeal	to "any	particular	religion	or	philosophy"	(150).	Just	as	the	"framers	[of	the	UDHR] wrote	a	text	for	use"	(150),	Wenar	seems	to	present	popular	resource sovereignty	as	an	ecumenical	"principle	for	use",	one	that	is	already	widely affirmed	as	an	ideal	(see	above),	and	also	consistent	with	a	wide	array	of domestic	legal	frameworks	(205-06).	This	"silence	on	deeper	issues"	is	surely the	right	strategy	to	adopt	if	we	aim	to	secure	"wide	acceptance"	on	a	principled alternative	to	the	rule	of	effectiveness	(150).	But	philosophers	will	want	to know:	Can	we	do	more	than	point	to	the	principle's	pragmatic	advantages?	Is popular	resource	sovereignty	a	true	principle	of	justice?	After	all,	there	is	much philosophical	controversy	regarding	the	normative	link	between	resource	rights on	the	one	hand	and	occupation	of	a	territory	or	sovereign	jurisdiction	over	a territory	on	the	other	(see,	e.g.,	Cara	Nine,	"Resource	Rights	and	Territory", Philosophy	Compass	11	[2016]:	327-337).	Those	engaged	in	these	debates	will	be disappointed	to	find	that	Wenar	largely	sidesteps	these	questions. Additional	thoughts	regarding	justification	can	be	found	if	we	attend	to	the	stage play's	quasi-allegorical	aspect.	The	main	storyline	unfolds	under	light	cast	by abstract	moral	themes	-namely,	division	and	unity	within	human	society.	The reader	will	sense	the	presence	of	division	and	unity	throughout,	despite	their low	profile	during	the	central	act.	Their	glow	is	brightest	during	the	opening	and closing	scenes.	Oil	is	not	just	"the	world's	most	valuable	commodity";	it	is	"its most	divisive	one"	(xv).	The	foreign	policy	choices	with	respect	to	resourcedisordered	countries	are	not	only	our	most	costly;	they	constitute	"the	West's most	divisive	debates"	(xliii).	The	power	wielded	by	unaccountable	dictators	is not	only	harmful	for	the	subjects	of	resource-disordered	countries;	it	is	a "divisive	force"	within	those	countries	(xlviii).	The	rule	of	effectiveness	cultivates "divisive	identities"	abroad	and	at	home	(li;	340).	"If	division	is	the	problem,	then unity	must	be	the	solution"	(xlvii;	358).	The	ultimate	goal	is	to	establish institutions	that	"foster	positive	identities	[...]	that	are	more	integrated,	open, cooperative,	and	uniting"	(355).	Counter-powerful	rules	like	popular	resource sovereignty	are	justified	because	acting	on	them	brings	"unity	within	ourselves that	will	enable	greater	unity	with	others"	(280;	liii). Given	the	light	cast	by	human	unity,	Wenar's	preference	for	popular	sovereignty over	cosmopolitan	principles	might	seem	puzzling.	Cosmopolitanism,	at	its	core, exudes	a	deeply	unifying	impulse.	Moral	cosmopolitans	claim	that	all	persons have	equal	moral	standing,	regardless	of	race,	ethnicity,	religion,	or	nationality. Political	cosmopolitans	advocate	equal	citizenship	for	all	within	a	global	society, governed	by	(typically	democratic)	institutions	with	global	remit.	With	respect to	natural	resources,	contemporary	cosmopolitans	argue	for	a	principle	of "common	ownership",	whereby	all	the	world's	people	should	share	equally	in the	proceeds	derived	from	the	earth's	resources	(345).	In	contrast,	popular resource	sovereignty	(as	Wenar	conceives	it)	starts	with	territorially-defined and	politically	independent	communities,	and	grants	each	one	sovereign jurisdiction	over	the	resources	it	happens	to	find	in	its	assigned	territory. Needless	to	say,	natural	resources	are	not	evenly	distributed	across	the	face	of the	globe.	Although	popular	resource	sovereignty	grants	peoples	formally	equal status,	the	distributive	implications	of	this	principle	are	bound	to	be	deeply inegalitarian. Set	next	to	cosmopolitan	principles,	then,	popular	resource	sovereignty	appears as	a	principle	of	division	rather	than	unity.	Wenar's	reply:	Common	ownership might	appear	a	more	unifying	principle	in	the	abstract;	but	popular	resource sovereignty	is	better	suited	to	overcome	the	divisive	use	of	power	under	current circumstances	(346).	Consider	the	colonial	independence	movements	in	the middle	of	the	last	century.	These	movements	manifest	the	aspirations	of particular	peoples	to	gain	political	independence,	to	"gain	control	over	their	own countries,	not	least	over	their	natural	resources"	(346,	emphasis	added).	The ideal	of	popular	sovereignty	is	repeatedly	affirmed	in	the	constitutions	of	newly independent	countries	(347).	Given	this	context,	imagine	yourself	as	a	citizen	of a	former	colony;	imagine	being	told	by	your	former	colonial	masters	that	they are	part	owners	of	your	country's	natural	resources.	From	your	perspective,	the cosmopolitan's	flag	can	only	appear	as	the	banner	of	a	neo-imperial	power.	In our	present	circumstances,	cosmopolitan	principles	are	more	liable	to	be counterproductive	than	counter-powerful	(347;	cf.	351).	Popular	resource sovereignty	is	the	more	unifying	principle	for	our	times. Once	again,	we	find	a	pragmatic	justification	for	Wenar's	guiding	principle.	But the	question	remains:	Are	there	principled	reasons	to	endorse	popular	resource sovereignty?	Is	it	a	true	principle	of	justice?	One	way	to	get	a	handle	on	this question	is	to	say	that	we	are	asking	after	normative	ideals;	worrying	about	what works	in	the	real	world	-as	Wenar	does	-taints	the	resultant	principles	with the	stain	of	present	injustice	(cf.	David	Estlund,	"Utopophobia",	Philosophy	& Public	Affairs	42	[2014]:	113-134).	Wenar	rejects	such	challenges:	philosophers who	specify	political	ideals	while	abstracting	from	"questions	about	the	power that	enforces"	the	ideally	just	principles	may	well	find	that	they	have	"design[ed] perfectly	just	hells"	upon	implementation	(354).	(For	what	it's	worth,	I	agree with	Wenar.) So	questions	of	power	and	institutional	realization	must	be	central	to	our normative	theorizing	(355).	And	yet	-must	our	normative	theorizing	be	wholly pragmatic?	Is	there	no	deeper	moral	theory	underlying	Wenar's	institutional analysis?	Backstage,	we	find	the	ideal	that	directs	the	entire	production: "maximum	achievement	of	freely	unified	ends"	(364).	Guided	by	this	ideal,	we seek	institutional	reforms	that	lead	to	"social	worlds	in	which	human	relations track	power	less	and	less";	at	the	ideal,	"power	is	unnecessary:	human	desires [...]	will	at	best	converge	freely	on	the	same	ends"	(359).	Members	of	these	ideal societies	pursue	the	common	good,	not	as	a	response	to	force,	but	as	an "express[ion]	of	[their]	own	identit[ies]"	(361). Those	who	seek	a	deep	justification	for	popular	resource	sovereignty	in	Blood	Oil will	find	a	novel	consequentialist	moral	theory:	the	right	institutional	principles are	the	ones	that	maximize	the	free	unity	of	ends	(364).	This	explains	why Wenar's	arguments	are	pragmatic	throughout.	Popular	resource	sovereignty	is not	a	deep	principle	of	morality.	At	another	time,	in	another	place,	common ownership	(or	some	other	principle)	might	be	the	right	principle	to	counter	the divisive	use	of	power.	But	at	our	time,	in	our	place,	popular	resource	sovereignty is	the	principle	for	the	job.	So	Wenar	argues. No	doubt,	"free	unity"	consequentialism	faces	many	questions,	and	rightly	so. But	it	is	not	Wenar's	aim	in	Blood	Oil	to	develop	this	ideal,	and	it	would	be	a mistake	to	focus	our	critical	attention	here.	Wenar's	objective	is	more intermediate:	to	present	institutions	that	realize	popular	resource	sovereignty	as a	progressive	step	along	the	path	to	a	plurality	of	long	term	ideals.	On	this	score, Blood	Oil	presents	a	model	of	principled	normative	theorizing	for	a	nonideal world. David	Wiens University	of	California,	San	Diego