Jury nullification refers to the behaviour of a jury that votes to acquit a defendant of criminal charges despite believing that: a) the defendant did in fact commit the actions with which she is charged; and, b) such actions are, indeed, prohibited by law. While there are many objections to this practice, the most striking thing about jury nullification is that nothing is done to actually prevent or punish jurors who behave this way. In this paper, I explore three rationales for why jury nullification is an officially tolerated, if not necessarily welcome, element of Anglo-American criminal law jury trials. All three of these rationales centre in one way or another on the idea that the very concept of a jury trial necessitates allowing the jury to extend its traditional purview in such a manner.

When we think of recent armed conflicts, such as those in the Persian Gulf, Bosnia or Rwanda, we realize that one profound difficulty shared by them was how they ended. The process of war termination—of resolving successfully serious outbreaks of armed conflict between national groups—is fraught with fragility and complexity, featuring often competing claims of security and justice.

Only recently have we begun to understand how crucial the issue of war termination is, with regard not only to bringing particular conflicts to an end but also to mitigating further devastations in the future. Whereas past attention focused obsessively on the beginning of war, and/or on proper conduct during wartime, it is becoming clear that the ending of war deserves equal time with regard to critical analysis, historical application and the creative construction of proposals for amelioration. There are only a handful of works on this important and topical, yet neglected, issue.

This article proposes to contribute to the sparse literature by constructing a theory of war termination. The article will offer reasonable responses to questions of what constitutes justice, security and legality in the aftermath of war. The inquiry will proceed first by examining the status quo with regard to war termination, undertaking an examination of its few strengths and many weaknesses. Then, the account will fashion a more satisfactory set of laws to regulate state conduct during the immediate aftermath of a particular war. These universal and abstract norms, once constructed, will be applied to a recent and concrete case, namely, that of the lengthy termination process of the Persian Gulf War of 1991. The theory will next shift its attention away from short-term principles, regulating the endings of particular wars, towards those longer-term rules and institutional reforms required to transform the international system itself into one in which the incidence and destructiveness of war will be diminished. Before concluding, attention will be paid to defeating doubts about the laws forwarded as a plausible theory about securing justice and peace when wars end.

Modern medicine has been enormously successful in saving and extending lives. No one can reasonably regret this, but it exacerbates a problem which has always been with us, namely, how to treat those who are alive, but not living lives they think worthwhile, and have no prospects for anything better. Under current Canadian law, one who wants to die can either commit suicide, or, if he is competent, refuse all treatment necessary for life. But one does not always have the ability and opportunity to do the former, and the latter does not always bring about a gentle and easy death for either the patient or his loved ones. The question thus arises as to whether we should make legal provision for assisted suicide - providing the means of suicide - and active voluntary euthanasia - killing the patient on request. The Canadian Law Reform Commission1 has recently taken up this question, and answered with a clear “No.” I shall argue in what follows that the answer should be “Yes.”

A critical analysis of theories of commercial impossibility and frustration of purpose is best undertaken in conjunction with a theoretical analysis of contract in general. Contracts function as a means of transferring social benefit, which can be subcategorised into subjective and objective benefit. Contracts also regulate the transfer or risk, which is inherent in property and hence any contractual relationship. In the light of the transfer of subjective and objective benefit and risk, contracts can be shown to be by definition ex ante Pareto superior for both parties. Frustration of purpose or commercial impossibility is pleaded where the ex post overall benefit differs greatly from the ex ante expected value. This difference results from the manifestation of a risk which one party bears under the terms of the original contractual risk/benefit equilibrium. Considering the various subjective and objective risks and benefits involved in the contract, it is possible to classify frustrating eventualities under eight heads. In at least six cases the importance of the principle of security of exchange clearly precludes the operation of frustration. One of the remaining cases corresponds with the controversial Krell v Henry; there appears to be a temptation to regard frustration as the most socially utilitarian solution. Given however the dynamics of contractual risk and benefit, allowing frustration there would be unworkable because it would entail placing a subjective risk burden on the party which is in a worse position to evaluate it. There should be no place in the law for a doctrine of frustration of contract on the grounds of commercial impossibility orchanged circumstances.

A first task of a philosophy of law and morals is to try to make explicit and authenticate a standpoint that allows for the evaluation of things in normative terms. It cannot begin straightaway with conceptions of the right, the good or the moral worth of persons. For these are notions whose adequate elucidation presupposes that we are already occupying a standpoint which, taken by itself, is unqualifiedly normative and complete. The account of what I shall refer to as “the standpoint of the normative” is thus prior to the explication of the criteria and contents of our normative conceptions.

The fundamental political concern of liberalism has been to secure equal liberties for all citizens. There has, however, been no agreement among liberals on the extent to which this project depends, both normatively and practically, on the democratization of society. Socialism, on the other hand, has been fundamentally concerned with the realization of emancipated forms of life. But socialists too have disagreed with one another on the extent to which political structures of democratic self-government are central to the revolutionary task of emancipation. Social democracy, as a tradition, has involved the attempt to show how these core political projects of the modern era, liberalism and socialism, are mutually interdependent. The most appropriate emancipatory project for late modern, increasingly complex societies, from a social-democratic perspective is to create and maintain a social structure that can deliver equal and effective liberties for all citizens. This achievement is to be best understood in republican terms, as the realization of a democratic form of life in which free and equal citizens engage one another in the collective task of autonomous self-governance. Jürgen Habermas has been one of the most significant intellectual contributors to the development of the idea of social democracy as an emancipatory project. Over several decades from the early 1960s to the present, Habermas has set about recasting critical social theory in terms of a theory of communicative action. The main legal and political implications of this critical perspective are outlined in his discourse theory of democracy Habermas considers the realization of rights through the democratic self-organization of legal communities to be the normative core of emancipatory politics in the modern era.

Recent work in legal ethics has raised the question of whether lawyers, in performing certain kinds of actions otherwise criticizable on moral grounds, can escape such criticism by appealing to the role they occupy in the legal system. Such actions include but are not limited to “gray-mailing”, making truthful opposing witnesses look like liars, defending criminals believed to be guilty, and defeating just claims on technicalities. Often, the question has turned on whether the adversary system of which lawyers are members is itself a morally worthy system. And depending upon the answer to this question are the answers to a number of related questions. Of these, the most widely discussed is whether and to what extent a lawyer should respect a client’s confidences.

Historically, discussions of the morality of punishment have been dominated by the conviction that punishment is an inescapable feature of social life. Thus it is widely believed that laws will not be respected unless those who break them are punished. Yet another view deeply entrenched is that avoiding or mitigating pain and suffering ought to be a fundamental goal of civilized societies. These two convictions are in obvious tension. Punishment requires the deliberated infliction of pain or suffering. How then can it be justified?

The important and no longer novel insight from ecology that ecosystems are dynamic and ever-changing along immensely complex causal pathways prompts the further insight that environmental protection regimes should promote not a particular ecosystemic end state, but rather ecosystem resilience, or the capacity to absorb and adapt to stress without compromising essential function. For law to embrace resilience as an objective, it is argued, it must itself be dynamic and flexible, capable of learning and adaptation. This poses potentially serious challenges to law’s resilience: to what extent are flexibility and adaptability at odds with what Niklas Luhmann argues is an essential feature of normative systems, namely, resistance to learning in the face of disappointment? The potentially rapid rate of change expected of a law oriented to ecosystem resilience could overwhelm law’s capacity to provide the measure of order, stability, and predictability that are core to its contribution, or prestation, to society. This paper takes this challenge seriously, but also explores another possible implication of law in the pursuit of ecosystem resilience: if environmental law is no longer conceived of in primarily instrumental terms, as a means to bring about a specific set of ecosystem objectives, there may be some possibility for its own resilience to be enhanced.

Immigration Law has as its primary subject the stranger: the outsider who is under no obligation of allegiance to the state, who is not represented in its political processes, and whose needs and interests are, in most situations, accorded less concern than those of people who already participate in the social and political life of a community. The immigrant stranger may, of course, appear in a variety of guises. He may be a wealthy entrepreneur or investor who belongs to another political community but who chooses to emigrate to advance his own or his family’s well-being. Alternatively, the stranger may be a person who has experienced life solely within the confines of a community that is plagued by economic deprivation. Such a person may be crippled by physical and emotional need or cultural fragmentation. His search is for a new social environment in which, it is hoped, these constraints will not be present in such exaggerated or severe measure. Sometimes the needy stranger will be seeking an immediate escape from a political regime which offers her no protection or which aims at her very destruction, and sometimes she will be searching for deliverance from the incessant, limbo-like tedium or the multitude of unspeakable terrors to which one is exposed in a refugee camp. Whatever the guise in which he or she appears, the stranger is someone with whom the modern political state must come to terms. He or she cannot be ignored.

The essay builds on the claim that the concept of law is best understood as structured by an abstract archetype to which actual instances of law approximate, and that the archetype in question is an intrinsically moral idea: the idea of a realm of universality and necessity within which one can enjoy freedom as independence from the power of others. Reflection upon the nature of this archetype is a form of moral reflection upon experience, where we seek to grasp the nature of a value by considering the forms in which the value has been partially realised. The departure from Aristotelian thought (to be found in writers from Grotius to Kant) served to obscure the possibility of such a form of moral reflection. Twentieth-century theories of the nature of law have tended to focus upon the problem of law’s self-genesis, but this neglects the full extent of the philosophical problem of law’s nature.

In this paper, I show that a Kantian account can explain both the rule that consent is normally a defence to assault and the exceptions to that rule. Kant himself does not discuss the offence of assault, but the body – the manifestation of the person in space and time – is central to Kant’s account of each person’s innate right of humanity. Since Kant’s legal philosophy is oriented around the idea that each limit on freedom of action can be justified only for the sake of freedom itself, it is plausible to think that this might do all the work; but that is not the case. The law may rightly refuse to recognize consent to a physical interaction that is inconsistent with treating the participants as persons and may, in such cases, create an exception to the usual rule that lack of consent is an element of assault.

But this Kantian account needs to be supplemented in two ways. First, the account provides a structure but no criteria for determining whether an interaction is inconsistent with personhood. Second, the law does sometimes recognize consent as a defence in activities that expose the participants to the intentional application of force that creates a risk of permanent and serious damage, even though that damage itself could not be consented to. The distinction turns out to run parallel to Kant’s solution to the problem (as he sees it) of sexuality: how is it possible for two persons to engage in an activity that necessarily requires each to treat the other as an object, and yet to retain their humanity? With these supplements, the limits on consent in the positive law of assault can be justified in Kantian terms.

The rule against penalty clauses in contract law sits uneasily with the promise theory of contract. According to the rule, if contracting parties agree a monetary remedy for breach which is substantially in excess of what would be required to compensate the claimant then that remedy is not enforceable. If contracts enforce promises however one would expect to see these clauses enforced. The rule appears therefore to be an example of a contract doctrine that diverges from promise. Promise theorists tend to respond to divergent doctrines in one of three ways, they either: seek to accommodate these doctrines within the promise principle, or they repudiate them, or finally they justify these doctrines on the basis of the specific legal context within which they operate.

I argue that in the case of the penalties rule all of these standard responses would fall short. These responses are inadequate because they are premised on the claim that the promise principle is the only general moral principle relevant to evaluating contract law, or that it has overriding justificatory priority when it conflicts with other moral concerns. I argue that a richer conception of the moral principles that bear on contract and how they interact offers a way forward for justifying the rule.

In Legality, Scott Shapiro – a leading legal positivist – analyses the problem of a wicked legal system in a way that brings him close to natural law positions. For he argues that a wicked legal system is botched as a legal system and I show that such an argument entails a prior argument that there is some set of standards or criteria internal to law which are both moral and legal. As a result, the more successful a legal order is legally speaking, the better the moral quality of its law, and the more it is a failure morally speaking, the worse the legal quality of its law. It is such moral features of law that Shapiro concedes make it plausible to account for law’s claim to justified authority over its subjects. However, Shapiro cannot, as a legal positivist, accept this entailment. His book thus brings to the surface and illuminates a central dilemma for legal positivism. If legal positivists wish to account for the authority of law they have to abandon legal positivism’s denial that law has such moral features. If they do not, they should revive a form of legal positivism that specifically abjures any claim to account for law’s normative nature.

Allan Hutchinson’s recent book, The Province of Jurisprudence Democratized, is regarded as presenting the opportunity for considering what is involved in seeking to establish the province of jurisprudence as a distinctive field of inquiry. The scale of Hutchinson’s ambition matches John Austin’s original efforts to determine the Province of Jurisprudence, but seeks to replace an analytical approach to jurisprudence he associates with Austin by a theoretical approach committed to advancing “strong” democracy. This provokes an initial reflection on the nature of theoretical disageement, and in particular disagreement which goes beyond trivial theoretical contestability so as to contest the nature of the subject matter that is being investigated by establishing an appropriate field of inquiry for it. Three different techniques are introduced which are capable of demarcating the subject matter of jurisprudence through establishing a field of inquiry favouring a particular theoretical viewpoint: axiomatic disengagement, ambitious insight, and a split field of inquiry.

Hutchinson’s principal concern with the democratization of law, legal theory, and the province of jurisprudence is examined in detail. The process of democratization and its anti-elitist character is traced through Hutchinson’s opposition to the aloof philosophical analysis of the universal in favour of an engagement with local and particular issues. However, the weight Hutchinson places on his conception of strong democracy, so as to provide a different understanding of the the law-power nexus and of the relationship between law and morality operating in strong democracies, is shown to be misplaced. Two related failings are pointed out. First, there is a failure to recognize competing groupings within the people, which contradict the uniform collective body Hutchinson associates with those formerly governed by elites and then constituting those liberated to exercise self-governance. Secondly, this links into Hutchinson’s exclusive preoccupation with the participatory axis of democracy – which he regards as the core feature of strong democracy, and at the same time the basis for the law-power nexus and the law-morality relationship within a strong democracy. This is revealed as an inadequate and impoverished understanding of democracy once the presence of competing groupings within the people is acknowledged. Hutchinson’s one-dimensional representation of democracy along a participatory-representational continuum is rejected for failing to recognize a distinct fiduciary-beneficiary axis, which a richer understanding of “for the people” conveys. These corrections have important consequences for a role for law that cannot be reduced solely to politics, and for a broader sweep to analytical jurisprudence than Hutchinson allows.

Hutchinson’s own efforts to capture the province of jurisprudence are then assessed. These are recharacterized as seeking to establish within a split field of inquiry a theory of strong democratic law, but, in the absence of a convincing account of the nature of democracy and its relationship with law, the project is judged to be unfulfilled.

The rules governing impaired transfers are widely thought to lie at the core of unjust enrichment law. This essay defends two propositions about these rules. First, there is no duty, in the common law, to make restitution of benefits obtained as the result of an impaired transfer (for example, a transfer made by mistake or as a result of fraud or compulsion). Rather than imposing duties to make restitution, or indeed duties of any kind, the rules governing impaired transfers impose only liabilities, in particular liabilities to judicial rulings. The only legal consequence of a mistaken payment is that the recipient is liable to be judicially ordered to repay a sum of money equal to the payment. Second, it matters that the law governing impaired transfers imposes only liabilities, and not duties, because, inter alia, explaining and justifying liabilities is different from explaining and justifying duties. In particular, certain well-known objections to attempts to explain impaired transfer law can be avoided once it is recognized that this law is concerned exclusively with liabilities. In summary, then, this essay argues that the distinction between duty-imposing and liability-imposing rules has important implications for understanding the foundations of the law governing impaired transfers.

Recovery of mistaken payments in the law of restitution is often justified by reference to a vitiated intention and that of payments where there is a failure of consideration by reference to a qualified intention. This paper aims to investigate whether this is a misleading characterisation and suggests that both causes of action should be understood in terms of conditions affecting our intentions. Specifically we should look at the failure of our planning agency, and Michael Bratman’s theory of agency in particular. In cases of mistaken payments we should look at the failure of a background condition to the payment. In such cases to fail to allow recovery is to fail to respect me as an autonomous actor, acting under norms having agential authority for me. In failure of consideration cases the autonomy of the other party is at stake, but we can take this into account by positing not a failure of a condition affecting personal intention, but affecting collective intention. There are different views on what collective intention is and how it should be understood, which may themselves have different implications in terms of the concurrency of mistake and failure of consideration as unjust factors. The paper examines different ways in which collective intentions might fail and how they fit the failure of consideration paradigm.

Bentham’s hatred of the major elements of the legal culture of his times is legendary. He thoroughly criticised the notions of natural law and social contract that were at the roots of Blackstone’s legal doctrine as so many fictions. His criticism also centred, in a more technical manner, on several fictions that belonged to the ordinary legal reasoning of the common lawyers. Substantive fictions such as the crime of grand larceny and procedural fictions such as the procedure of ejectment were everyday fare for legal practitioners. By unveiling how these fictions, understood as linguistic devices, operated, Bentham highlighted how they contributed to debase the law’s addressee’s practical reasoning in order to reinforce her subjection to the class of jurists. His contempt for artificial (but purposeful) legal technicalities allows to understand how full blown the hermeneutics of suspicion he developed against the hegemony of legalism (which will sound familiar to Marxists) was. Nevertheless, one cannot help concluding that Bentham might have been the very victim of the power structure he fought.

This is a Critical Notice of From Normativity to Responsibility, Joseph Raz’s brilliant treatment of the nature of normativity and reasons. Building on the thought that the law claims to give reasons to its subjects, I consider the application of Raz’s views about reasons to some questions in legal philosophy. I concentrate on what I take to be the central idea of the book, Raz’s “normative/explanatory nexus”, according to which a consideration cannot be a (normative) reason for an agent to perform an action unless the agent could follow the consideration in performing the action. I show (briefly) how the nexus can explain some of the Fullerian principles of legality. And I examine (at somewhat greater length) the implications of the nexus for our understanding of the psychology of legal obligation; here I suggest that the nexus might cause trouble for Raz’s own well-known exclusionary reasons account of legal obligation.