Recent judgments in England and Wales have confirmed and extended the High Court's inherent jurisdiction to make declarations about interventions into the lives of ‘vulnerable’, rather than simply ‘mentally incapacitated’ adults. We argue that this shift is problematic because of the ways that the ‘vulnerable adult’ has been constructed in order to justify such interventions. The accounts of vulnerability drawn upon in the constructive process highlight the person's inherent characteristics and/or the circumstances within which that person might be denied the ability to make a free choice. Such an approach parallels the public policy protection of ‘vulnerable adults’ from abuse in care services and the statutory protection of ‘vulnerable witnesses’ in the criminal justice system, and is built on an external and objective assessment of being ‘at risk’, rather than an understanding of the subjective experience of being vulnerable. We argue that this imbalance might act to disempower the ‘vulnerable adult’ by reducing that person's life to a series of risk factors that fail, first, to place him/her at the heart of the decision to intervene, and, secondly, to engage adequately with the experiences through which that person ascribes meaning to his/her life.

The pursuit of security as a matter of domestic policy stands high on the political agenda of many Western nations and is a booming area of private investment. This repays close attention to what is meant when the concept of security is invoked as a justification of public policy or private practice. This paper examines the various meanings and differing constructions of security as a negative or positive presence, as a material or symbolic good, as a public good or private service, and as a response to external or internal threats. It observes how the language of security is differentiated also according to local legal cultures and calls for comparative analysis of the meaning and usage of the term in different jurisdictions. It suggests some possible differences in the structural arrangements for the pursuit of security that arise from differing relationships among the state, private sector and civil society. And it concludes by mapping out some apparent variants on the public-private divide that might profitably inform comparative analysis of the practices, as opposed to the rhetoric, of security.

Smart regulators know that traditional command and control interventions, however tempting to politicians, are not always an effective or efficient form of response; they know that the criminal law tends to do better at defining crime into existence rather than defining it out; they know that private law remedies are of limited impact; and they know that public law control exercised by agency licensing or negotiation is open to the twin charges of being too soft or being too tough. Even smarter regulators know that they can sometimes achieve the desired regulatory effect by relying vicariously on non-governmental pressure (whether in the form of self-regulation or co-regulation by or with business or the professions, pressure exerted by consumers, the activities of pressure groups, and so on) or by relying on market mechanisms; in addition, they know that careful consideration needs to be given to selecting the optimal mix of various regulatory instruments.

At the heart of the voluntary corporate governance code in the UK and elsewhere is the concept of ‘comply or explain’. It provides that a company is to comply with a code's provision; but if it does not do so, then it is to state that it does not and explain why it does not. There is no provision in the UK for any statements by companies to be assessed by any regulatory body. It is incumbent on the markets generally and the company's shareholders specifically to determine whether the response of the company to code provisions does enough, and then to take some action if they do not. The aim of comply or explain is to empower shareholders to make an informed evaluation as to whether non-compliance is justified, given the company's circumstances. This paper assesses whether the present scheme, which relies on the stewardship of shareholders and the efficiency of the markets, should continue, or whether a regulatory body should be empowered to determine whether companies are in fact complying with code provisions or, if not, whether they are providing adequate explanations for not complying.

Sociology of law often seems to be marked by a form of intellectual apartheid. Whilst social theorists refine their conceptual frameworks, those with more practical concerns robustly set out to investigate the ‘law in action’. Mixing of the two approaches is thought likely to impede their necessary separate development. One recent survey of the field concluded that:

‘The trend is likely to be a continuing divergence between its theoretical and practical branches: the theoretical consisting mainly of re-analyses of old sociological approaches to law, and the practical continuing with its problem-solving approach without confronting the theoretical problems implicit in what it accepts as problems and solutions’.

This paper presents the findings from the first qualitative study to consider the relationship between intersex experience and law, representing a significant contribution to a currently under-researched area of law. Since 2013 there has been a global move towards the legal recognition of intersex, with Australia, Germany and Malta all using different techniques to construct and regulate intersex embodiment. This paper is the first to compare and problematise these differing legal approaches in the legal literature. In doing so it demonstrates that many of these approaches are grounded in ideas of formal equality that lead to the entrenchment of vulnerability and fail to build resilience for the intersex community. Through engagement with the intersex community a more contextual account of substantive equality is enabled, encouraging new approaches to law and social justice. Our qualitative study revealed that prevention of non-therapeutic medical interventions on the bodies of children was understood to be the key method to achieving equality for intersex embodied people. Whilst this is the cornerstone of intersex-led legislative reform, such an approach necessitates support through a mixture of formal and substantive equality methods such as anti-discrimination law, education and enforcement procedures. This paper concludes by offering a series of recommendations to legislators capable of enabling substantive intersex equality.

This paper critically evaluates the contractual theories of companies and company law which have risen to prominence in recent years. It argues that history reveals as misguided the attempt to depict public companies as essentially contractual in nature, one of the most striking features of the development in nineteenth century Britain of the first body of (joint stock) company law having been its gradual move away from the principles of agency and contract underlying the law of partnership from which it emerged. Against this backdrop, the paper moves on to explore the ways in which theorists have tried, against the odds, to characterise public Companies as contractual and the reasons for their attempting to do so. While it might be apposite to view many private or closely held companies through the prism of contract, the paper argues, public companies and much of company law itself can only properly be understood when viewed through the prism of financial property. Indeed, it suggests, this is implicitly confirmed by the Company Law Review and (paradoxically) by the recent work of corporate governance specialists and financial economists in the US, with its focus on investor protection and the preservation of financial property's integrity, and its emphasis on the crucial role of (public) regulation in these processes. The paper concludes that these property forms are not merely the objects, but the products of regulation and that this has important implications for our understanding of both company law and corporate governance. In making these arguments, it seeks to cast some light on the nature of intangible property, on the differences between contract-based and property-based rights, on the neo-liberal idea of ‘deregulation’, and on the unity and scope of company law as a legal category.

The future is likely to see an increase in the public-sector use of automated decision-making systems which employ machine learning techniques. However, there is no clear understanding of how English administrative law will apply to this kind of decision-making. This paper seeks to address the problem by bringing together administrative law, data protection law, and a technical understanding of automated decision-making systems in order to identify some of the questions to ask and factors to consider when reviewing the use of these systems. Due to the relative novelty of automated decision-making in the public sector, this kind of study has not yet been undertaken elsewhere. As a result, this paper provides a starting point for judges, lawyers, and legal academics who wish to understand how to legally assess or review automated decision-making systems and identifies areas where further research is required.

In his Dimbleby Lecture in December 2002, the Archbishop of Canterbury examined the effect of the emergence of the market state on the legitimacy of government activity in areas of morality. He suggested that, while this is becoming limited, the continuing need to provide a moral context for social life provided an opportunity for religious communities to play a crucial role. This paper suggests that the increasing significance of market concepts in healthcare law poses a similar challenge to the moral basis of medical practice, threatening to drive moral argument outside the scope of the discipline, with the consequent effect of undermining the values that drive good healthcare. Thus, the de-moralisation of medicine is also demoralising for those within the health professions. To counteract this tendency, a strong sense of a common moral community needs to be maintained amongst those engaged with the discipline of healthcare law. This paper also examines the role of law in this area. Traditionally, legal scholars have attacked the reluctance of legislators and the judiciary to wrestle from the grip of doctors the authority to determine ethical issues. The dominant view has been that this was a failure to recognise the fact that society has a stake in these matters and that legal non-intervention was an abdication of responsibility that undermines the rule of law. However, the integration of medical and moral decision making into a collaborative enterprise can also be seen as a more effective defence against the forces of demoralisation than the separation that the orthodox approach implies. If this is correct, then a key task for healthcare lawyers, as yet undeveloped, is to consider how to establish a legitimate common moral community, and what role the law might have to play in that process.

The landmark decision of Gillick v West Norfolk Area Health Authority was a victory for advocates of adolescent autonomy. It established a test by which the court could measure children's competence with a view to them authorising medical treatment. However, application of the test by clinicians reveals a number of ambiguities which are compounded by subsequent interpretation of Gillick in the law courts. What must be understood by minors in order for them to be deemed competent? At what point in the consent process should competence be assessed? Does competence confer on minors the authority to refuse as well as to accept medical treatment? These are questions which vex clinicians, minors and their families. A growing number of commentators favour application of parts of the Mental Capacity Act 2005 to minors. In this paper, the limitations of this approach are exposed and more radical reform is proposed.

By introducing legal tests centring upon concepts of freedom, capacity and reasonableness, the Sexual Offences Act 2003 reflects a deliberate legislative attempt both to provide a clearer structure for jury deliberation on sexual consent and to hold defendants to a higher level of accountability in relation to their belief in its existence. While these developments are well intentioned, it is argued that they may ultimately prove to be of limited effect. More specifically, it is suggested that there is an inherent complexity in the concepts of freedom, capacity and reasonableness, at least in the largely undefined form in which they have been introduced, such that the Act may, in practice, simply result in the proliferation of a new set of malleable legal tests and unpredictable legal outcomes.

Drawing on a series of mock jury deliberations undertaken by the authors in which participants were asked, having observed a short rape trial reconstruction, to apply the tests set out in the Sexual Offences Act 2003 in order to reach a verdict, this paper examines the ways in which the concepts of freedom, capacity and reasonableness were interpreted. Bearing in mind the inevitable constraints of the mock jury methodology (in particular its verisimilitude to real juries), this paper suggests that there may, nonetheless, be some valuable lessons to be gleaned from these deliberations about the future application of the law in actual rape cases.

It is apt to say that Europe, or at least the Europe of the European Union, is currently experiencing a comparative moment. To quote from Nietzsche, ours is the ‘age of comparisons’. For the first time, the two legal traditions represented in Western Europe – known to anglophones as the ‘civil law’ and the common law - find themselves interacting with one another within a general legal framework, that of the Treaty of Rome. Of course, there has long been mutual influences and interferences. For instance, one can convincingly argue that the ancient common law was but a by-product of an earlier form of the civil law. In the words of Raoul van Caenegem:

Organ retention has been with us for millennia. Walk into virtually any cathedral and many a church in Europe and you will find an array of retained organs or tissue, allegedly originally the property of assorted saints, or even of God, and almost certainly collected without proper informed consent and retained in less than secure conditions. In our own time the complexities of organ collection, retention and use have proliferated. The events at Alder Hey Children's Hospital and the debates about the ethics of biobanking all over the world have dramatically highlighted the complexity, the difficulty and the moral importance of these issues. Some of these issues have to do with the question of who can give permission for or consent to such removal and retention. Other issues involve consideration of whose rights or interests are engaged when cadaver organs and tissue are removed and retained, just what in particular is the nature, extent and force of those rights or interests, and how they are to be balanced against other moral considerations. These questions are the subject of this paper. We will not, however, here be concerned with the issues of genetic privacy, the security of genetic information.

In England and Wales, trial by jury is typically reserved for more serious offences and is by no means the norm of criminal prosecution. Despite this, the jury continues to hold enormous symbolic and practical significance. In a context in which research with ‘real’ juries is prohibited, this paper outlines the findings of a mock study in which members of the public deliberated towards a unanimous verdict, having observed an abbreviated rape trial reconstruction. It reflects on the structural processes (including the use of narrative, the presence of a foreperson and group/inter-personal dynamics) that framed the tone and direction of discussions. In so doing, it generates insight into what may go on behind the closed doors of the jury room in rape cases and – more broadly – highlights the ways in which differently composed juries, when faced with the same scenario, may reach divergent verdicts or embark on radically different routes to reach the same destination. In addition, it explores the extent to which participants, having been directed on appropriate legal tests and burdens of proof, were able to understand and apply these standards; and it reflects on the implications of this in terms of future improvement of the jury trial process, both in rape cases and beyond.

In England and Wales, rape complainants currently receive little by way of pre-trial support and preparation. This stands in sharp contrast to prosecutorial practice in the USA where prosecutors meet with complainants prior to trial with the specific aim of preparing them for the unfamiliar process of testifying in criminal proceedings. This paper considers the case for adopting similar arrangements in rape cases in England and Wales. This is assessed primarily from an evidentiary perspective although due consideration is also given to the need to protect vulnerable complainants from the risk of secondary victimisation within the criminal trial process.

The criminal justice system of England and Wales has been subject to a series of essentially ad hoc reforms that depart to a significant degree from its adversarial heritage and represent a threat to fair trial rights under Art 6 of the European Convention on Human Rights. Far from moving closer to the European ‘inquisitorial’ model, as has been suggested by some commentators, criminal procedure is becoming increasingly dominated by managerialist concerns. Intolerance to litigant control is motivated by the desire to increase efficiency and reduce cost, although the replacement of party autonomy in terms of control over the conduct of the case by state power over process corresponds to some degree to the descriptions, in the work of Mirjan Damaška, of the system favoured by ‘activist’ states. However, the financial crisis facing the new government means that the situation is unlikely to be alleviated should the extent of government activity be reduced.

In the UK, home education, or home-schooling, is an issue that has attracted little public, governmental or academic attention. Yet the number of children who are home educated is steadily increasing and the phenomenon has been referred to as a‘quiet revolution’. This paper neither celebrates nor denigrates home educators; its aim, rather, is to identify and critically examine the two dominant discourses that define the way in which the issue is currently understood. First, the legal discourse of parental rights, which forms the basis of the legal framework and, secondly, a child psychology/common-sense discourse of ‘socialisation’, within which school attendance is perceived as necessary for healthy child development. Drawing on historical sources, doctrinal human rights and child psychology and informed by post-structural and feminist perspectives, this article suggests that both discourses function as alternative methods of governance and that the conflicting ‘rights claims’ of parents and children obscure public interests and fundamental questions about the purpose of education.

Contemporary settled democracies, including the USA, England and Wales and Ireland, have witnessed a string of high-profile cases of institutional child abuse in both Church and State settings. Set against the broader literature on transitional justice, this analysis argues that there are significant barriers to truth recovery within the particular context of historical institutional abuse by the clergy in the Republic of Ireland. In the main, it argues that the frameworks of the inquiries and commissions into historical institutional child abuse are not conducive to truth recovery or the search for justice in dealing with the legacy of an abusive past. It is the Church–State relationship which makes the Irish situation noteworthy and unique. The Catholic Church and child care institutions are especially self-protective, secretive and closed by nature, and strongly discourage the drawing of attention to any deficiencies in organisational procedures. The nature of the public inquiry process also means that there is often a rather linear focus on accountability and apportioning blame. Collectively, such difficulties inhibit fuller systemic investigation of the veracity of what actually happened and, in turn, meaningful modification of child care policies. The paper concludes by offering some thoughts on the implications for transitional justice discourses more broadly as well as the residual issues for Ireland and other settled democracies in terms of moving on from the legacy of institutional child abuse.

This paper takes a sceptical look at the possibility of advanced computer technology replacing judges. Looking first at the example of alternative dispute resolution, where considerable progress has been made in developing tools to assist parties to come to agreement, attention then shifts to evaluating a number of other algorithmic instruments in a criminal justice context. The possibility of human judges being fully replaced within the courtroom strictu sensu is examined, and the various elements of the judicial role that need to be reproduced are considered. Drawing upon understandings of the legal process as an essentially socially determined activity, the paper sounds a note of caution about the capacity of algorithmic approaches to ever fully penetrate this socio-legal milieu and reproduce the activity of judging, properly understood. Finally, the possibilities and dangers of semi-automated justice are reviewed. The risks of seeing this approach as avoiding the recognised problems of fully automated decision-making are highlighted, and attention is directed towards the problems that remain when an algorithmic frame of reference is admitted into the human process of judging.

It is easily assumed that the use of the language of fundamental rights protection by the European Court of Justice translates directly into an extension of the actual protection of those rights within the European Community. It is the purpose of this paper to question that assumption.

Whilst it would appear to be widely accepted that the initial motivation for the adoption of the terminology of fundamental rights by the European Court of Justice was a desire to defend the supremacy of Community law over national law, a close analysis of certain recent cases in the European Court shows that the court has begun to use rights talk in a different way.