In human–robot interactions in legal proceedings, human responses to robot-generated evidence will present unique challenges to the accuracy of litigation as well as ancillary goals such as fairness and transparency, though it may also enhance accuracy in other respects. The most important feature of human–robot interactions is the human tendency to anthropomorphize robots, which can generate misleading impressions and be manipulated by designing robots to make them appear more trustworthy and believable. Although robot-generated evidence may also offer unique advantages, there are concerns about the degree to which the traditional methods of testing the accuracy of evidence, particularly cross-examination, will be effective. We explore these phenomena in the autonomous vehicles context, comparing the forums of litigation, alternative dispute resolution, and the National Transportation Safety Board. We suggest that the presence of expert decision-makers might help mitigate some of the problems with human–robot interactions, though other aspects of the procedures in each of the forums still raise concerns.

The study of disputing has been a central concern of law and society scholars for nearly fifty years. Rather than focusing narrowly on cases litigated in state courts, law and society scholars broadened their perspective to include the handling of conflict in myriad fora throughout society, from neighborhood councils to consumer complaint boards to the interventions of shamans and village leaders. Law and society researchers working in Asian settings are no exception. Some earlier studies were village-based, highlighting the largely conciliatory practices of mediators who sought to maintain harmony by promoting apology, restitution, and spiritual well-being. Recent studies examine the relationship between litigation and nonjudicial dispute resolution, highlighting the ways in which courts and judges are influenced by the handling of conflict outside state law. A third type involves state’s attempts to divert litigated cases to “alternative dispute resolution” procedures established as adjuncts to the formal system. Although ADR is sometimes promoted as a restoration of traditional community mediation, law and society researchers have generally demonstrated that its close connection to the official legal system raises complex issues of justice and the protection of rights by persons who lack sufficient wealth or power to succeed within formal judicial arenas.

Although proponents of online dispute resolution systems proclaim that their innovations will expand access to justice for so-called “simple cases,” evidence of how the technology actually operates and who is benefitting from it demonstrates just the opposite. Resolution of some disputes may be more expeditious and user interface more intuitive. But in order to achieve this, parties generally do not receive meaningful information about their rights and defenses. The opacity of the technology (ODR code is not public and unlike court appearance its proceedings are private) means that due process defects and systemic biases are difficult to identify and address. Worse still, the “simple cases” argument for ODR assumes that the dollar value of a dispute is a reasonable proxy for its complexity and significance to the parties. This assumption is contradicted by well established research on procedural justice. Moreover, recent empirical studies show that low money value cases, which dominate state court dockets, are for the most part debt collection proceedings brought by well-represented private creditors or public creditors (including courts themselves, which increasingly depend on fines and fees for their operating budget). Defendants in these proceedings are overwhelmingly unrepresented individuals. What ODR offers in these settings is not access to justice for ordinary people, but rather a powerful accelerated collection and compliance technology for private creditors and the state. This chapter examines the design features of ODR and connects them to the ideology of tech evangelism that drives deregulation and market capture, the aspirations of the alternative dispute resolution movement, and hostility to the adversary system that has made strange bedfellows of traditional proponents of access to justice and tech profiteers. The chapter closes with an analysis of front-end standards for courts and bar regulators to consider to ensure that technology marketed in the name of access to justice actually serves the legal needs of ordinary people.

This chapter explores the controversial topic of dispute settlement under international investment law, considering the much-maligned investor–state dispute settlement and its reforms, including the EU’s investment court system and alternative dispute settlement mechanisms.

This chapter explores some of the current and future pressures on contract law that are likely to reinforce its formalist and commercialist tendencies. The first of these is the recasting of contract law as a commodity that should primarily serve the interests of commercial contractors (usually by upholding the terms of the contract) at the expense of doctrinal development. The second is the declining use of adjudication to resolve disputes, rooted in lack of support for litigation and the emphasis on non-adjudicative dispute resolution within courts themselves. The third factor is the increasing automation of contract processes, manifest in the development of ‘smart contracts’ and algorithmic contracting. These innovations are likely to require revision of the foundational understandings upon which contract law is built, notably around how contracts are created, by whom and for what purposes.

Chapter 11 covers issues relating to litigation. Part A first addresses the right of exclusive licensees of patents, copyrights, trademarks and trade secrets to sue to enforce licensed IP against third party infringers, and the rules requiring licensors to be joined in such suits. The chapter next moves to contractual clauses that allocate responsibilty for litigation among the licensor and licensee (Ryan v. Graco). It next addresses contractual provisions relating to domestic and international choice of law and dispute resolution, including required arbitration and mediation (alternate dispute resolution). The shifting of fees and litigation expenses is covered next. The chapter concludes by considering special provisions germane to licenses that are entered into in settlement of litigation.

Like other French judicial proceedings, administrative court procedure is distinctive in being mainly written and judge-led with collegial decision-making. Fact-finding often relies on court-appointed experts. Within the hearing, the role of the rapporteur public is important in providing advice to the court independent of the parties. In recent years, this traditional procedure has come under scrutiny in the light of the notion of a fair trial within the European Convention on Human Rights, and changes have been made. In addition, there have been reforms to the enforcement of court decisions and the availability of interim measures. The significance of interim measures is illustrated by reference to the Covid-19 pandemic.

Multi-tier dispute resolution, through which parties attempt to settle their disputes by combining non-adversarial with adversarial methods, can assist parties in resolving their disputes more efficiently. Recent surveys suggest that parties are increasingly interested in such methods but that the number of parties that actually adopt such methods does not reflect the growing interest. Drawing on over 1,000 disputes at the HKIAC, this chapter examines how common multi-tier dispute resolution clauses are, how they are drafted and in what types of dispute they appear. Attention is given to the 2018 HKIAC Administered Arbitration Rules, which are tailored for multi-tier dispute resolution methods. The chapter also explores broader regional and international developments that will impact movement towards mixed modes of dispute resolution, such as the Belt and Road Initiative, the Singapore Mediation Convention and the investment dispute mechanism agreed between the Hong Kong SAR and Mainland Chinese governments.

This chapter introduces the key types and uses of alternative dispute resolution (ADR) and their role in civil dispute resolution (CDR). ADR refers to the alternatives to litigation which individuals may wish to pursue instead of, before, or during, litigation. ADR is usually less formal than litigation — the procedures tend to be more flexible and more variable so the procedures discussed in this chapter are, of necessity, simply examples of how various forms of ADR can occur.

The main quality of a smart contract relies on the automation of contractual relationships, as the performance is triggered by an algorithm in turn triggered by the fulfilment of certain events. Most of the benefits arising from smart contracts are based on the ‘self-executing’ and ‘self-enforcing’ character, which represent a source of innovation for general contract law. Smart contracts use blockchain to ensure the transparency of the contractual relationship and to create trust in the capacity to execute the contract, which depends on the technology used. The aim of the present essay is to investigate whether and how blockchain technology platforms and smart contracts could be considered a modern form of private authority, which at least partially escapes the application of mandatory rules and traditional enforcement mechanisms. In particular, the authors will devote attention to innovative self-help mechanisms and dispute resolution systems, which can be depicted as ‘alternative’ insofar as they present themselves as independent from courts and other national state authorities.

The justice system is infamously slow in adopting technology.1 Although recent years saw an exponential increase in the role played by technology within the justice system,2 the legal industry has not kept pace with technical advancements to the same extent as other sectors. As put by former Australian High Court Justice, Michael Kirby, a Dickensian lawyer would still feel at home in the court halls of the 1990s courts, while a Dickensian doctor would not comprehend a contemporaneous hospital due to immense modernisation that had taken place at the same time.3 However, in the COVID-19 era, the courts and tribunals are forced to conduct remote hearings, which imposes a degree of technological awareness and proficiency on the justice system.

Digitalization and the development of automated systems, as well as the evolution of artificial intelligence (AI), have radically changed the legal landscape and will continue to impact law at an accelerated pace. These developments have led to the creation of a new industry, legal tech (LT), which aims at creating technological applications specifically tailored for law and the legal market. LT includes a broad range of applications: some of the most prominent and recurrent examples include automation in the drafting of contracts, “mining” case-law, or the creation of smart dispute resolution systems not requiring human intervention. As a result, operations that were previously unthinkable, or that would demand an enormous amount of human resources, can now be readily done through numerous legal services available to lawyers, other professionals, and consumers.1 The rise of LT has brought about various responses, from those who advocate the innovating potential of LT2 to legal traditionalists that consider the replacement of human resources by technology to be highly disruptive.3 In addition, there are those who advocate for a level-headed distinction between “hype” and reality.4 Nonetheless, it would be shortsighted not to see that the advancement of LT is going to have a profound impact on the legal sector, in a degree similar to that which industrialization had on manufacturing.