This charter from Æthelbald of Mercia to abbess Eadburg of Thanet in Kent shows the high regard in which the abbess was held. She is granted remission on the tax due for a ship she has bought, perhaps indicating that she was involved in trade with the Frankish regions across the English Channel.

Two short writs granting land to the Church show how in the early years of William the Conqueror’s reign the use of Latin was gradually adopted where Old English had been used in pre-Conquest times for royal writs, though Latin was used for charters.

Excerpts from the Laws written in, or translated from English into Latin in the early twelfth century provide insight into the legal language of the period as well as the current laws affecting the king and his population.

These two charters are the oldest extant charters in Britain, dating from the 670s and recording the donation of land by sub-kings to abbots in Surrey and Kent. These documents already display many of the formulaic phrases to be found in Anglo-Saxon charters, which were usually in Latin, though the information about land boundaries was usually in Old English.

This late ninth-century charter provides an example of Latin with orthographical idiosyncrasies at a time when there had been a decline in educational standards, before the reforms of king Alfred took effect. Land is granted by the archbishop of Canterbury to a layman. Criticism of the standard of Latin is somewhat unfair, given that the changes made to Latin syntax and spelling are consistent.

Attempts to alter the balance between the Company’s two characters would only intensify in the decade-and-a-half after Wellesley’s departure (1805–20). Ideas about knowledge would continue to feature in these attempts. The Charter Act of 1813 tied the Company’s patronage of scholars to its collection of land revenue. Scholar-officials and their Indian collaborators, meanwhile, tailored their intellectual projects to the aim of territorial expansion. Overall, such expansion was encouraging engagement with Indian society and raising the prospect of involvement in Indian education. The Court of Directors was slow to embrace this prospect. But by the 1820s, the need for new ideas about knowledge could not be ignored any longer.

Data-related technology advancements have brought about a paradigm shift and have created a data-driven economy that requires a legal framework to regulate the economic behavior of its participants – both companies and consumers. However, legislators’ hands-off attitude, intended to promote a ‘free’ and unregulated Internet, has not realized the original internet dream of a borderless and radically democratic space. Some observers have even suggested that the Internet is beyond the sovereignty of governments, or even a fifth dimension, not subject to the same regulation as other domains of human activities.1 This laissez-faire approach to the digital economy has created a lawless arena where the strong prevail. These powerful participants also dominate in terms of data – the Internet’s most valuable asset – and through their actions, system leaders and silo providers are in fact hindering the free flow of information by ‘hoarding’ data (or, as the Commission formulated it, ‘data lock-in’).2 These barriers seem destined to increase in the future.

The essence of a human right is that it is afforded immediate protection, even if this protection is not absolute. Rights are ‘fundamental’ because their existence is not open to dispute, negotiation or compromise, although their substance is subject to interpretation. Rights are anchored in law and they underwrite legal as well as political action. Despite their interaction, human rights should not be equated with human rights law. This chapter will explore the appearance and evolution of human rights in EU law, paying particular attention to five themes: the history and systematisation of human rights in EU law; their initial appearance in EU law via adjudication rather than political deliberation; the relationship between general principles, fundamental freedoms and fundamental rights in EU law; the use of fundamental rights in EU law, in particular the scope of judicial review by the CJEU; and accession to the European Convention on Human Rights.

Having rebuffed Western pressure throughout the 1990s on human rights norms, ASEAN was under little external pressure to enact stronger protections in its 2007 charter whose main impetus was accelerating economic integration to ward off growing rival blocs and the emergence of China. Yet it did so anyway, as liberal and authoritarian norm circles clashed and the liberal circle tipped the scales just enough to ensure its inclusion in the charter. While they could not control the initiative alone, shared norms and metis sufficed to bring an ambiguous commitment across the line.

Begins with the church–state relationship, noting the Charter of Rights and Freedoms takes into account the effects of federation, particularly the position of Quebec and the associated complications of laïcité, also addresses the legacy and current impact of bijuralism. Provides an overview of the contemporary relevant legal framework, as governed by statutory and constitutional provisions, noting the extent to which the country is a signatory state to international law. Gives an account of the law relating to the definition of “religion” and “belief”. Examines the church–state relationship as illustrated by case law relating to the freedoms of religion, association and expression. Focuses on the effect of equality and non-discrimination law on the church–state relationship as illustrated by case law. Concludes by considering the nature and extent of jurisdictional congruity with USA as regards their current interpretation of the principle; highlighting distinctive Canadian characteristics; identifying particular principles or rules relied upon by the judiciary or administrative bodies; and assesses the significance of cultural context as a differentiating factor.

The chapter presents an analysis of the application of the proportionality doctrine in the case law of the Canadian Supreme Court. Based on both a qualitative and quantitative analysis of a large sample of case law applying proportionality, the chapter uses quantitative indicators to provide an overview of the characteristics of proportionality analysis in action, including the rights and subject matters to which proportionality is applied, the division of labour between the stages of the analysis when striking down measures, and termination rates for each stage following a failure. The findings reinforce the existing perception that minimal impairment is central to Canadian proportionality analysis: it is the stage where the largest number of cases fail and half of the time the Court does not proceed to even consider the final balancing stage. Even when cases fail at the substantial objective or rational connection stage – which happens more often than generally acknowledged – the court almost always continues the analysis to the minimal impairment stage for an additional failure. The chapter further analyses qualitatively the application in practice of each of proportionality's subtests, exposing the range of interpretations given and the content that has been infused into the different stages.