The members of the Singapore International Commercial Court (‘SICC’) include both Singaporean and non-Singaporean ‘international’ judges. The SICC is domestic, in that it is established under Singaporean law as a division of the Singapore Court system, and international in the sense that it hears international commercial disputes, including cases which have no connection with Singapore apart from a choice of court agreement designating the SICC as the forum for dispute resolution. This chapter identifies the rationales for the appointment of international judges to the SICC, contrasting the SICC with domestic courts which use foreign judges and with nine other international commercial courts around the world. It shows how the different objectives and target markets of international commercial courts, as well as the constitutional laws and traditions of the host state, influence the decision whether or not to appoint foreign judges. The chapter suggests that international commercial dispute resolution today favours the appointment of specialist foreign judges to commercial courts having similar aspirations as the SICC.

For eight years between 2011 and 2019, I, a French professor of law, served as a judge of the Constitutional Court of Andorra, the only woman to have been appointed to that Court since its establishment in 1993. This chapter presents a critical analysis of being a judge in Andorra, informed by the distinctive history and features of constitutional justice in the small state situated between two powerful European neighbours, and by my own personal experience. It provides insights into how the process of appointing judges and the organisation of work within the Constitutional Court accommodate foreign judges, and how diversity on the bench – in terms of the legal culture, mastery of language, professional training, gender, and the psychology of the judges – influences the way in which constitutional justice is delivered in Andorra.

A court is said to be the last branch of government because it is the first defence of the individual – individuals rely on the judiciary to protect their rights and freedoms from intrusion by the exercise of public power. Does this apply to the CJEU? Does it protect individuals and Union citizens? To what extent does it act as the ‘third branch’ of government, ensuring that public powers are exercised in the interests of the ‘peoples’ of Europe, or even those people beyond affected by EU law such as the Inuits of Canada? These questions highlight the main themes in this chapter. They can only be partly answered by examining the organisation of the CJEU – its tasks and composition. A fuller answer requires further exploration of the extent to which individuals can access the Court to challenge Union legal acts. This chapter will therefore focus on the two main procedures to bring actions before the CJEU: direct actions via Article 263 TFEU and indirect actions under Article 267 TFEU.

For much of its history, Australia’s judiciary has been highly homogenous — comprising white, middle-aged males from privileged socio-economic backgrounds. In recent years, there have been calls to redress this ‘diversity deficit’, namely, the gap between the composition of the judiciary and the composition of the population at large. This chapter examines the challenges faced by this social project by asking (1) why judicial diversity matters; (2) what characteristics are important for a diverse judiciary; (3) how we measure the diversity deficit; and (4) what action is needed to redress the diversity deficit. The chapter argues that we should broaden our categories of interest, guided by the underlying justifications for diversity and understandings of the social fabric derived from the national census. The changing nature of Australian society requires us to look beyond gender and race in fashioning an inclusive judiciary that is fit for purpose in the 21st century.