Jurisprudence 2017 VLE

Jurisprudence and
legal theory
Jill Marshall
Stephen Guest
Adam Gearey
James Penner
Wayne Morrison
Andrea Dolcetti
Emmanuel Melissaris
This guide was prepared for the University of London International Programmes by:
uu Stephen Guest, BA, LLB, BLitt, PhD, Barrister, Inner Temple, Professor of Legal
Philosophy, University College London.
uu Dr Adam Gearey, Senior Lecturer in Law, Birkbeck College, University of London.
uu James Penner, Reader in Law, London School of Economics.
uu Professor Wayne Morrison, Queen Mary College, University of London.
Professor Guest took primary responsibility for Chapters 1, 2, 5, 6, 7, 10, 11 and 14,
Dr Geary for Chapters 13, 16 and 17, Dr Penner for Chapters 4, 8 and 9, and Professor
Morrison for Chapters 3, 12 and 15.
The 2016 updates were prepared by:
uu Dr Andrea Dolcetti, DPhil, Law Lecturer, St Hilda’s College, Oxford.
uu Dr Emmanuel Melissaris, Associate Professor of Law, London School of Economics.
The 2017 updates were prepared by:
uu Professor Jill Marshall, Professor of Law, University of Leicester.
This is one of a series of module guides published by the University. We regret that
owing to pressure of work the authors are unable to enter into any correspondence
relating to, or arising from, the guide. If you have any comments on this module guide,
favourable or unfavourable, please use the form at the back of this guide.
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Published by: University of London
© University of London 2004
Reprinted with minor revisions 2012 and updated in 2016 and 2017.
The University of London asserts copyright over all material in this module guide
except where otherwise indicated. All rights reserved. No part of this work may
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Jurisprudence and legal theory page i
Contents
Module descriptor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . v
1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2
1.1 How to study jurisprudence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
1.2 Reading . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
1.3 Preparing for an examination in jurisprudence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8
Reflect and review . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
2 The nature of jurisprudence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14
2.1 What is jurisprudence? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
2.2 Methodology, analysis, theory and the idea of definition . . . . . . . . . . . 15
2.3 Theory and evaluation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16
2.4 The ‘interpretive’ approach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18
3 Imperative or command theories of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22
3.1 The birth and development of secular or ‘positive’ theories of law:
the case of Thomas Hobbes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23
3.2 Jeremy Bentham . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33
3.3 John Austin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
3.4 Appreciating Austin’s command theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
4 Classical and modern natural law theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52
4.1 The rise of natural law in ancient Greece and Rome† . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53
4.2 The natural law of Aquinas:† structure . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55
4.3 The natural law of Aquinas: legal reason, human law, and the obligation
to obey the law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56
4.4 Modern natural law theory I: Finnis† . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58
4.5 Modern natural law theory II: Fuller . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60
4.6 The continuing debate over the connection between law
and morality . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
5 Introduction to Hart’s The concept of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66
5.1 Studying Hart . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
5.2 Hart’s aims . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68
5.3 Definition and theory in The concept of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70
5.4 Criticism of the ‘orders backed by threats’ (OBT) theory . . . . . . . . . . . 71
5.5 The ‘union of primary and secondary rules’ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74
5.6 The less important chapters . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76
5.7 A return to the ‘internal’ point of view . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
page ii University of London International Programmes
6 A master rule for law: Hart’s rule of recognition . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82
6.1 Identifying the rule of recognition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83
6.2 Criticism of the rule of recognition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85
6.3 The Postscript . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87
7 Hart’s defences against natural law and Fuller’s criticism . . . . . . . . 93

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94
7.1 Morality in the ‘penumbra’ of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95
7.2 The Nazi grudge informer and legal positivism’s virtue of clarity . . . . . . . 96
7.3 The eight principles of the ‘inner morality’ of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99
Reflect and review . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 102
8 Raz on practical reason and the authority of law . . . . . . . . . . . . 103

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 104
8.1 The paradox of authority and Raz’s ‘service’ conception of authority . . . . 105
8.2 The ‘normal justification thesis’ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107
8.3 Exclusionary reasons: the deliberative and executive phases of
practical reason . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 108
8.4 The authority of law and the limits of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110
8.5 The debate with soft positivists and Dworkin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 111
9 Practical reason and law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116
9.1 What is a norm? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117
9.2 Standard classifications of norms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119
9.3 The Hohfeldian characterisation of legal norms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121
9.4 Following rules . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124
9.5 The variety of hard cases . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126
10 Kelsen’s theory of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 131

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 132
10.1 Background to Kelsen’s theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133
10.2 How Kelsen characterises law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135
10.3 Legal revolution . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138
10.4 Criticisms of Kelsen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 140
11 The integrity and interpretation of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148
11.1 The idea of interpretation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149
11.2 Judge Hercules . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 152
11.3 Principles and policies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153
11.4 Arguments of ‘fit’ and ‘substance’ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 154
11.5 Concepts and conceptions: law as an argumentative attitude . . . . . . . 155
11.6 The ‘one right answer’ thesis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 156
11.7 Evil legal systems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158
Jurisprudence and legal theory page iii
11.8 Dworkin on Hart’s Postscript . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158

12 Social theory and law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 165

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 166
12.1 Thinking of law and society: encountering a case . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 167
12.2 Internal and external accounts, insiders and outsiders . . . . . . . . . . . 170
12.3 Durkheim and the consensus theory of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 172
12.4 The rationalisation of the world: the analysis of Max Weber . . . . . . . . 176
12.5 The transformation of jurisprudence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 180
13 Marx, Marxism and Marxist legal theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 185

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 186
13.1 Marx’s basic ideas of ideology, economy and society . . . . . . . . . . . . 187
13.2 The Marxist theory of the state . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191
13.3 Marx’s theory of law in Das Kapital . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 192
13.4 Soviet Marxism and the law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 193
13.5 Setting Marx the right way up: Western Marxism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 195
13.6 Marxism, law and international economy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 197
14 Liberalism and law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 201

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 202
14.1 Utilitarianism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 203
14.2 Criticisms of utilitarianism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 204
14.3 Liberalism: liberty and equality . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 205
14.4 Disagreements about morality: can they be resolved rationally? . . . . . . 206
14.5 Equality . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 207
14.6 The economic analysis of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 208
15 Feminist legal theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 214
15.1 Deconstruction and reconstruction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 216
15.2 A brief history of feminist legal theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 221
15.3 Feminist views of the state . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 222
15.4 The future of feminist legal theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 225
16 Critical legal studies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232
16.1 Introduction: what is CLS? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 233
16.2 Law and the fundamental contradiction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 235
16.3 Law, politics and reification . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 237
16.4 American critical legal studies: success or failure? . . . . . . . . . . . . . 240
16.5 Postmodernity and critical legal studies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 240
16.6 African critical legal studies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 243
page iv University of London International Programmes
17 Critical race theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 247

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 248
17.1 American critical race theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 249
17.2 Law and race discrimination . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 250
17.3 Race, racism and ideology . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 250
17.4 Critical race theory and British racism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 252
17.5 The official inquiries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 255
17.6 Critical race theory and postcolonialism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 257
Feedback to activities . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263

Chapter 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 265
Chapter 3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 265
Chapter 4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 266
Chapter 5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 269
Chapter 6 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 269
Chapter 8 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 270
Chapter 9 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 271
Chapter 10 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 273
Chapter 11 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275
Chapter 12 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275
Chapter 13 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 276
Chapter 14 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 277
Chapter 15 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 278
Chapter 16 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 278
Chapter 17 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 280
Jurisprudence and legal theory page v
Module descriptor
GENERAL INFORMATION
Module Title
Jurisprudence and legal theory
Module Code
LA3005
Module Level
6
Contact email
The Undergraduate Laws Programme courses are run in collaboration with the
University of London International Programmes. Enquiries may be made via the
Student Advice Centre at: www.enquiries.londoninternational.ac.uk
Credit
30
Courses on which this module is offered

LLB, EMFSS
Module Pre-requisite
None
Notional Study Time

300 hours
MODULE PURPOSE AND OVERVIEW

Jurisprudence and legal theory is a compulsory module on the LLB course.
Jurisprudence poses fundamental questions about the nature of law, its purpose, its
place in society and how a legal system operates as a system of rules and as a social
institution engaging with ideals of justice and often conflicting moral codes.
MODULE AIM
The aim of the module is to introduce students to thinking reflectively and critically
about the law by familiarising them with some important texts and ideas in legal and
political philosophy. The module also aims to encourage and enable students to think
about doctrinal legal questions from a theoretical perspective. It aims to help students
to develop legal reasoning skills by increasing their awareness of their own opinions
and training them in constructing coherent and reflective arguments, with an ability
to constructively criticise the works they are studying.
LEARNING OUTCOMES: KNOWLEDGE

By the end of this module students should be able to demonstrate:
1. Knowledge of some of the most influential legal and political philosophies and
their theses on law;
2. Understanding of a range of topics and debates in legal and political philosophy

and especially the main methodological, ontological, and normative questions
concerning law and its legitimacy.
page vi University of London International Programmes
LEARNING OUTCOMES: SKILLS

Students completing this module should be able to demonstrate the ability to:
3. Construct philosophical argument;
4. Critically assess legal and political theories and question their internal consistency
and coherence as well as their foundational assumptions;
5. Apply abstract philosophical argument to real problems and contexts;
6. Present a sustained and well-constructed argument orally and in written form.
BENCHMARK FOR LEARNING OUTCOMES

Quality Assurance Agency (QAA) benchmark statement for Law (2015).
MODULE SYLLABUS
(a) The nature of jurisprudence. Subject matter. Philosophical method and analytical
philosophy.
(b) Natural law theory and its critics. The history of natural law. The natural law theories
of Fuller and Finnis. The moral theory of law of Dworkin.
(c) Legal positivism and its critics. Imperative and sanction theories of law, including
the theories of Austin and Kelsen. Hart’s theory of law. The ‘Hart–Fuller’ debate. The
‘Hart–Dworkin’ debate. Raz’s theory of law. Practical reason, and authority.
(c) Interpretivist theories of law and their critics. Dworkin’s theory of law as integrity and
its critiques by selected theorists.
(d) Legal reasoning. Raz’s theory of practical reason and norms, Hohfeld’s theory of
legal norms. Theories of adjudication, in particular that of Dworkin.
(e) Liberalism and law.
(f) Marxist theories of law and state.
(g) Feminist jurisprudence.
(h) A study in depth of a case prescribed by the examiners on which there will be one
compulsory question in the examination.
LEARNING AND TEACHING
Module guide
Module guides are the students’ primary learning resource. The module guide covers
the entire syllabus and provides the student with the grounding to complete the
module successfully. It sets out the learning outcomes that must be achieved as
well as providing advice on how to study the module. It also includes the essential
reading and a series of self-test activities together with sample examination questions,
designed to enable students to test their understanding. The module guide is
supplemented each year with a pre-exam update stating the law up to 15 February,
made available on the VLE.
The Laws Virtual Learning Environment

The Laws VLE provides one centralised location where the following resources are
provided:
uu a module page with news and updates, provided by legal academics associated
with the Laws Programme;
uu a complete version of the module guides;
uu online audio presentations;
uu pre-exam update;
uu past examination papers and reports;

Jurisprudence and legal theory page vii
uu discussion forums where students can debate and interact with other students;
uu Computer Marked Assessments – multiple choice questions with feedback

are available for some modules allowing students to test their knowledge and
understanding of the key topics.
The Online Library

The Online Library provides access to:
uu the professional legal databases LexisLibrary and Westlaw;
uu cases and up-to-date statutes;
uu key academic law journals;
uu law reports;
uu links to important websites.
Core reading
Students should refer to the following core texts and specific reading references are
provided in each chapter of the module guide:
¢¢ Freeman, M. (ed.) Lloyd’s introduction to jurisprudence. (London: Sweet &

Maxwell, 2014) ninth edition [ISBN 9780414026728].
¢¢ Penner, J. and E. Melissaris, McCoubrey and White’s textbook on jurisprudence.

(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012) fifth edition [ISBN 9780199584345].
¢¢ Hart, H. The concept of law. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012) third edition
[ISBN 9780199644704].
Recommended reading
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Law’s empire. (Oxford: Hart Publishing, 1998) [ISBN 1841130419].
¢¢ Hart, H. Essays in jurisprudence and philosophy. (Oxford: Oxford University Press,

1983) [ISBN 9780198253884].
¢¢ Morrison, W. Jurisprudence: from the Greeks to post-modernism. (London:

Cavendish, 1997) [ISBN 1859411347].
¢¢ Simmonds, N. Central issues in jurisprudence: justice, law and rights. (London:

Sweet & Maxwell, 2013) fourth edition [ISBN 9780414023239].
ASSESSMENT
Learning is supported through tasks in the module guide, which include self-
assessment activities with feedback. There are additional online activities in the
form of multiple choice questions. The formative assessment activities will prepare
students to reach the module learning outcomes tested in the summative assessment.
Summative assessment is through a three hour and fifteen minute unseen

examination. Students are required to answer one essay question from Part A on the
set case and three essay questions from Part B.
Permitted materials
None.
page viii University of London International Programmes
Notes
1 Introduction
Contents
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2
1.1 How to study jurisprudence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
1.2 Reading . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
1.3 Preparing for an examination in jurisprudence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8
Reflect and review . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12

page 2 University of London International Programmes
Introduction
This module guide has been written to show you how to lay a solid foundation of
knowledge and critical understanding in Jurisprudence and Legal Theory. This will help
prepare you, ultimately, for the examination. The guide is not intended as a primary
source, or a textbook, and it would be a mistake to treat it this way.
The best way to study is to commit yourself to a sustained reading and writing
programme from the beginning of the first term. It is typical for an internal student at
the University of London to spend two hours in seminars each week for Jurisprudence
throughout the academic year and, in addition, the equivalent of further full
day’s work in the library, reading and taking notes. In the two months before the
examination, he or she would normally begin to formulate coherent thoughts in the
subject by practising trial paragraphs, series of paragraphs, and finally essays. The
activities and sample examination questions in this guide are designed to help you
develop these skills.
If you follow this pattern and, better, if you are able to let someone else read what
you write and discuss it with you, you will place yourself in the best possible position
for achieving an excellent mark in the examination. Jurisprudence can be enjoyable.
The questions it deals with are very important and they constantly impinge upon the
consciousness of all lawyers. You really can go a long way with this subject by a relaxed
reading of a variety of jurisprudential writing.
Learning outcomes for this Introduction

By the end of this Introduction, and the relevant reading, you should be able to:
uu state the intended learning outcomes of the module
uu decide which books to buy and obtain them
uu locate and distinguish the primary and secondary sources
uu devise an appropriate structure for an examination question in Jurisprudence.
Essential reading for this chapter

(Read these before you go on to Chapter 2.)
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Law’s empire. (Oxford: Hart Publishing, 1998). [ISBN 1841130419]

Chapter 1.
¢¢ MacCormick, N. and W. Twining ‘Legal theory and common law’ in B. Simpson

(ed.) Legal theory and legal history: essays on the common law. (London:
Hambledon Press, 1987) [ISBN 0907628834] Chapter 13.
[ISBN Paperback 9780199644704 Hardback 9780199644698].
¢¢ Hart, H. Essays in jurisprudence and philosophy. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1983)

[ISBN 9780198253884] Chapter 1: ‘Definition and theory in jurisprudence’ (also in
70 Law Quarterly Review 37).
¢¢ Fuller, L. ‘The speluncean explorers’ in Freeman, pp.26–39 (also in 62 Harvard Law

Review 616) (see above).
Jurisprudence and legal theory 1 Introduction page 3
1.1 How to study jurisprudence

An initial problem in studying jurisprudence is the orientation of the subject.
Come to it with an open mind and do not bother if at first it is not obvious why you
should be studying it or what use it will be in your future career. The answers to these
questions will become clear to you during the year. If you study properly, you will gain
a broad and flexible approach to legal questions of all sorts. Jurisprudence allows you
to step back from the minutiae of what you’re doing in the core subjects and speculate
on more general, but equally pressing, questions of law. In popular language, you will
learn how to think laterally.
Teachers of jurisprudence well understand that for first-comers to the subject, the
initial orientation can be hard going. They are also used to the enthusiasm that
frequently develops later, and which remains for a very long time. We frequently meet
former students, some now distinguished practising lawyers, who at alumni functions
tell us that they would ‘like to have spent more time studying jurisprudence’.
Our experience, too, is that this seemingly unpractical subject is not unpopular
with practising lawyers. Don’t be the unsuspecting interviewee who says ‘I hated
jurisprudence because it meant less time on commercial law, taxation, etc.’ because
that can strike just the wrong note with a future employer. Flexibility and breadth in
thinking and writing are both sought-after criteria of employability.
You should note early on that facts alone are much less important in jurisprudence
and thinking about facts in light of these ideas.. It is the ideas that are important. True,
the subject has facts, and case-law type subjects are not devoid of ideas. Nevertheless,
there is a far greater proportion of abstract, theoretical material in jurisprudence, and
the single most common problem is failure to appreciate this. Read Fuller’s ‘The Case
of the Speluncean Explorers’ for an enjoyable way to see how a relatively simple set of
facts lends itself to vastly different approaches, each characterised by certain abstract
ideas. That article, by the way, is used as the introductory reading in jurisprudence in
law schools all over the world.
1.2 Reading
Essential reading
This reading applies to the module in general. Please note that this is an extensive list
and it is not expected that you will have intense knowledge of this full list at your level
of studies. Hart’s The concept of law is no longer the set book. Any references you may
find in this guide which say so are to be disregarded. However, the book is important
in understanding much of the guide so it remains Essential reading.
(Subsequently, we will refer to the essential reading texts simply by the author’s name:
‘Freeman’, ‘Hart’ etc.)

¢¢ Penner, J. et al. (eds) Jurisprudence and legal theory: commentary and materials.
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002) [ISBN 9780406946782].
[ISBN Paperback 9780199644704 Hardback 9780199644698].
Recommended texts
The following are books that could be usefully bought, but if they are readily available
from a library, that is fine:
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Law’s empire. (Oxford: Hart Publishing, 1998) [ISBN 1841130419].

1983) [ISBN 0198253877].

Cavendish, 1997) [ISBN 1859411347].

Sweet & Maxwell, 2013) fourth edition [ISBN 9780414023239].
Further reading
Other works that you will find useful throughout the module are:
¢¢ Berlin, I. ‘Two concepts of liberty’ in Four essays on liberty. (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1969) [ISBN 9780192810342].
¢¢ Cotterrell, R. The politics of jurisprudence. (London: Butterworths Law, 2003)

second edition [ISBN 9780406930552] Chapter 3 on Bentham and Austin.
¢¢ Devlin, P. The enforcement of morals. (Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 2010)

[ISBN 9780865978058].
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Law’s empire. Chapter 1: ‘What is law?’ and Chapter 2: ‘Interpretive

concepts’ (particularly pp.76–86), 3, 5 (particularly pp.164–75), Chapter 6:
’Integrity’, Chapter 7: ‘Integrity in law’, Chapter 8: ‘The common law’ and Chapter
10: ‘The constitution’.
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Taking rights seriously. (London: Bloomsbury, 2013) [ISBN

9781780937564]. Chapter 4: ‘Hard cases’ and Chapter 5: ‘Constitutional cases’.
¢¢ Fuller, L. ‘Positivism and fidelity to law – a reply to Professor Hart’ (1958)

Harvard L.R. 690 (Extracts in Freeman, Chapter 6: ‘Modern trends in analytical
jurisprudence’).
¢¢ Guest, S. Ronald Dworkin. (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2013) third
edition [ISBN 9780804772334].
¢¢ Guest, S. (1988) Law Quarterly Review 155 (Review of Law’s empire).
¢¢ Hart, H. Essays in jurisprudence and philosophy. Essay 1 (particularly pp.21–35),

Essay 2, Essay 3 and Essay 16.
¢¢ Hart, H. Law, liberty and morality. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1962)
[ISBN 9780192850171].
¢¢ Hohfeld, W. Extracts in Freeman, Chapter 6: ‘Modern trends in analytical

jurisprudence’.
¢¢ Rawls, J. A theory of justice. (Boston: Harvard University Press, 1999)

[ISBN 9780674000780] pp.22–27, and pp.46–53.
¢¢ Raz, J. ‘The purity of the pure theory’ (1981) (Extracts in Freeman, Chapter 5: ‘The
pure theory of law’).
¢¢ Simmonds, N. Central issues in jurisprudence. Chapters 1, 3, 5; pp.58–62 (including

suggested reading); and Chapters 8 and 9, particularly pp.135–52, including
reading.
¢¢ Waldron, J. The law. (London: Routledge, 1990) [ISBN 9780415014274] Chapter 5:

‘Rights’.
¢¢ Williams, B. ‘The idea of equality’ in P. Laslett and W. Runciman (eds) Philosophy,

politics and society. (Oxford: Blackwell, 1962) [ISBN 9780631048800] p.125.
Other texts
¢¢ Penner, J.E. and E. Melissaris McCoubrey & White’s textbook on jurisprudence.
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012) fifth edition [ISBN 9780199584345]
¢¢ MacCormick, N. Rhetoric and the rule of law: a theory of legal reasoning. (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2009) [ISBN 9780199571246].
This is a useful general book on many of the topics within the syllabus. It is an account
of MacCormick’s developed thoughts about law over the period since he published
his first book espousing legal positivism (Legal reasoning and legal theory (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1994) [ISBN 9780198763840]). He is clear and shows a full knowledge
of the literature, so there is a lot of scope for following up his arguments. For example,
he fully discusses arguments for and against judges deciding with reference to the
consequences of their decisions (judicial policy-making) in Chapter 6 ‘Judging by
consequences’. In Chapter 7 ‘Arguing about interpretation’, he considers what it
means to ‘make sense of’ our legal practices and so develops a theory very similar, if
not identical, to Dworkin’s theory of interpretation. In Chapter 13 ‘Judging mistakenly?’
he interestingly considers the question of whether we can view there to be objectively
right answers in the law that provide a benchmark against which we can say that
judges are fallible. He compares such a view (‘judicial fallibility’) with what he calls
‘judicial decisionism’, the idea that the judicial decision itself, whatever it is, is the
benchmark of truth in law. The question of objectivity is also considered in his Chapter
9 ‘Being reasonable’.
¢¢ Green, L. ‘General jurisprudence: a 25th anniversary essay’ (2005) 25 Oxford

Journal of Legal Studies 565
attempts an overview of recent developments in legal philosophy.
¢¢ Dickson, J. ‘Methodology in jurisprudence: a critical survey’ (2004) 10 Legal

Theory 117
attempts an overview of the vexed question of methodology in jurisprudence,

particularly in legal philosophy. Dickson recently returned to the question of
methodology (or ‘philosophy of legal philosophy’ as she now prefers to call it) in the
following article:
¢¢ Dickson, J. ‘Ours is a broad church: indirectly evaluative legal philosophy as a

facet of jurisprudential inquiry’ (2015) 6(2) Jurisprudence: An International Journal
of Legal and Political Thought, 207–30.
Dickson argues for methodological pluralism in legal philosophy (especially against

those who seem to seem to adopt a sort of perfectionist stance in relation to the
discipline). She also defends a non-exclusionary approach, which she terms ‘Indirectly
Evaluative Legal Philosophy’ (IELP). IELP is evaluative from the outset yet modest;
philosophical in nature yet sensitive to historical contingency as well as to the
self-understanding of participants in the law; tentative and reconciled with its own
defeasibility; closely linked to critique.
¢¢ Marmor, A. ‘Farewell to conceptual analysis (in Jurisprudence)’, Chapter 9 in

Waluchow, W. and S. Sciaraffa (eds) Philosophical foundations of the nature of law.
In this volume Marmor interestingly claims that neither Hart’s nor Raz’s methodology
is one of conceptual analysis (i.e. elucidating the concept of law that we share), but
rather is a ‘reductionist’ programme (i.e. showing how legal norms can be explained
completely by referring to social, not moral, facts). The same volume contains a
number of interesting essays on the nature of law, many of which however may be a
little too demanding of students at this stage.
¢¢ Marmor, A. ‘Legal positivism: still descriptive and morally neutral’ (2005) 26

Oxford Journal of Legal Studies 683.
In this clearly written paper, Marmor defends the positivists’ claim that legal theorising
can, contrary to the opinion of Dworkin, Waldron and others, be morally neutral. This
is a good paper for seeing how a staunch positivist works his way through variations
on the claim that legal theorising must be ‘morally evaluative’.
¢¢ Finnis, J. ‘What is the philosophy of law?’ (2014) 59 American Journal of

Jurisprudence 133–42.
Still on the methodological question of what the central task of jurisprudence is, John
Finnis has recently reiterated and summarised his thesis that the philosophy of law is
a practical venture and that legal positivism is redundant, to the extent that it remains
silent on substantive questions regarding normativity, authority, obligation, validity
and so forth. Finnis also raises again the claim that natural law theory offers the best
answers to these substantive questions as well as a superior account of law’s positivity.
¢¢ Cotterrell, R. ‘Why jurisprudence is not legal philosophy’ (2014) 5(1)

Jurisprudence 41–55.
Roger Cotterrell draws a distinction between jurisprudence and legal philosophy,

arguing that the former is not only the philosophical study of the nature of law but ‘an
exploratory enterprise aimed at serving an ongoing, ever-changing juristic practice.
It is not aimed at finding ultimate truth about law’s nature, or timeless, “essential” or
“necessary” characteristics of the legal’.
¢¢ Lacey, N. ‘Institutionalising responsibility: implications for jurisprudence’ (2013)

4(1) Jurisprudence 1–19.
Nicola Lacey makes a similar argument criticising analytical legal philosophy for paying
insufficient attention to actual institutional practices when trying to account for law.
¢¢ Gardner, J. Law as a leap of faith. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012)

[ISBN 9780199695553] Chapter 11: ‘Law in general’
is a polemical defence of the idea that it is possible to articulate universal truths about
law. For a symposium on this book, see Jurisprudence: an international journal of legal
and political thought (2015) 6(3).
¢¢ Dickson, J. ‘Is the rule of recognition really a conventional rule’ (2007) 27 Oxford
Journal of Legal Studies 373.
¢¢ Marmor, A. ‘How law is like chess’ (2006) 12 Legal Theory 347.
In their different ways, Marmor and Dickson have again addressed the issue of whether
and how the law is conventional.
¢¢ Marmor, A. Social conventions: from language to law. (Princeton: Princeton

Marmor’s book-length treatment of the way in which, he argues, the law depends
upon deep social conventions.
¢¢ Coleman, J. ‘Beyond the separability thesis: moral semantics and the

methodology of jurisprudence’ (2007) 27 Oxford Journal of Legal Studies 581.
Here, Coleman argues that the positivist/natural law debate should be moved beyond
the issue of the separation of law and morals.
The above articles are useful for the consideration of issues in Chapter 11 of the module
guide, too.
¢¢ Raz, J. The authority of the law. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009) second
edition [ISBN 9780199573578].
Joseph Raz’s classic collection of essays has now been published in a second edition.
While the original chapters are essentially unchanged, the new edition also contains
Raz’s important essay on Kelsen, ‘The purity of the pure theory’, and Raz’s 2007 essay,
‘The argument from justice, or how not to reply to legal positivism’, which addresses
the confusions Raz sees in the positivist–antipositivist debate by way of replying to
German legal philosopher Robert Alexy.
¢¢ Shapiro, S. Legality. (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 2011)

[ISBN 9780674055667]
is a book-length treatment of Shapiro’s ‘planning theory’ of law, which Shapiro argues

addressed certain insufficiencies of Hart’s account. For reviews, see:
¢¢ Sciaraffa, S. ‘The ineliminability of Hartian social rules’ (2011) 31 Oxford Journal of

Legal Studies 603.
¢¢ Gardner and Macklem’s review can be found at: http://ndpr.nd.edu/

news/27609-legality/
¢¢ Waldron, J. ‘Planning for legality’ (2011) 109 Michigan Law Review 883.
¢¢ Green, L. and Leiter, B. (eds) Oxford studies in philosophy of law: Volume 1. (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2011) [ISBN 9780199606450]
is an interesting collection of new essays in the philosophy of law. The first two essays
are of most interest for students of this module. ‘Reason-giving and the law’, by David
Enoch, considers the way in which the authoritative directives of the law give reasons
for action, thus further exploring the connections Raz first elaborated between the
law and practical reason. ‘The standard picture and its discontents’ by Mark Greenberg
aims to show how the positivist characterisation of the law fails to address the way in
which the law binds by interacting with the moral norms that would otherwise apply
to us to guide our actions.
¢¢ Leiter, B. ‘The demarcation problem in jurisprudence: a new case for scepticism’

(2011) 31 Oxford Journal of Legal Studies 663.
Leiter makes the claim that all theorists agree that the law is an artefact. According
to recent philosophical research, providing an analysis of an artefact in terms of its
essential properties is notoriously difficult, yet that is what modern legal philosophers
have sought to do. Leiter argues that the project has not been successful, but that that
does not really matter, since the aim to distinguish law from morality by identifying
the essential features of the former is unnecessary, since we can distinguish cases in
which the central issue is ‘what ought to be done’, in any case. Leiter is well known for
leading a kind of revival of American legal realism. Those interested in pursuing this
‘realist revival’ might want to look at the following:
¢¢ Leiter, B. Naturalizing jurisprudence: essays on American legal realism and

naturalism in legal philosophy. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007)
[ISBN 9780199206490], and
¢¢ Dagan, H. ‘The realist conception of law’ (2007) 57 University of Toronto Law

Journal 607.
¢¢ Green, L. ‘Law and the causes of judicial decisions’, available online at: http://
papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1374608
is a powerful critique of Leiter’s realism.
¢¢ Marmor, A. Philosophy of law. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2014) [ISBN

9780691163963]
is not a general introduction to the subject, but rather presents Marmor’s perspective
on a number of the leading issues in the philosophy of law, and says much of interest.
For an interesting review, see:
¢¢ Patterson, D. Notre Dame philosophical reviews, at: http://ndpr.nd.edu/

news/24770-philosophy/
Liam Murphy recently published a book dealing with most of the general issues
regarding law:
¢¢ Murphy, L. What makes law: an introduction to the philosophy of law. (Cambridge:

Cambridge University Press, 2014) [ISBN 9780521542197].
1.2.1 How to read works in jurisprudence

Appreciate that the subject matter is difficult. You will have to learn to read difficult
to understand works. This means that you should slow down and contemplate
everything carefully. It is not like reading a light novel! And for that matter, as you
know, reading the reports of judicial decisions can be difficult. For example, each
chapter of the book, Hart’s The concept of law, requires several hours of sustained
effort.
Every so often, ask yourself what you’ve just read. Put your book down and write down,
or speak aloud, what the writer has said. You will find that, if you can do it, you will
remember having done it!
The great jurists were straightforward people who spoke naturally and not in jargon.
What they have in common is:
uu sound moral perception
uu the intellectual ability to range from the very abstract to the very practical.
The primary sources, it should go without saying, are the best. You must read some of
Austin, Kelsen, Dworkin, Fuller and so on. Only in that way will what these people say
become real to you. It is relatively easy for an examiner to spot whether you have or
have gleaned your knowledge of jurisprudence from a primary source. They remain
the most important and fruitful of the texts that you should read. As far as secondary
texts are concerned, Freeman and Penner have already been mentioned. An excellent
overview intellectually is Simmonds’ Central issues in jurisprudence.
Many find Dworkin very difficult to read, mainly because he is a more abstract thinker
than most. But he is worth the effort. His most accessible work is his article ‘The Model
of Rules’ (it sometimes appears as ‘Is Law a System of Rules?’) now incorporated as
Chapter 2 of Taking rights seriously. Chapter 1 of Law’s empire is also very readable. There
is a secondary source for Dworkin in Guest’s Ronald Dworkin (1997).
1.2.2 Learning outcomes for the module as a whole

Besides getting to know the syllabus, which is printed in the Regulations, you
should regard the following learning outcomes as what the subject will produce if
conscientiously and seriously followed. The assessment in the final examination will
be based on your performance.
By the time of the examination you should be able to:
uu expound and criticise important ideas of selected jurists in the Anglo-American

traditions
uu demonstrate an ability to think in a more abstract or general fashion than is

generally achieved in the study of specific areas of law
uu demonstrate a willingness to question and think independently and to find out

more
uu demonstrate systematic reading.
These outcomes are related. Reinforcement of what the examiners are looking for
will be found by studying past examination papers in which you will spot the familiar
forms of questions and format. How well you read around the subject is crucial to
how well you do in the examination. The examiners do not want to read parroted
pieces of information. Such answers will fail. Topic spotting will not do either. The
present syllabus is short enough for all topics to be covered and for all of them to be
approached in an intelligent and systematic way.
1.3 Preparing for an examination in jurisprudence
1.3.1 Structure of the exam paper

Up until 2016, the first section of the examination paper included three questions on
the set book (Hart’s The concept of law). From the 2016–17 academic year, this ‘set book’
component of the Jurisprudence examination will be replaced by a ‘set case’. At the
beginning of the academic year, you will be notified of the chosen case, on which you
will be asked to answer one out of three questions in the examination.
To help you to prepare for the examination, when the case is released students
will be directed to study the case in depth from the perspective of particular legal
philosophical theories selected from the syllabus. The examination questions will be
derived accordingly.
The aim of the new assessment exercise is to develop your skills in identifying the
relevance, significance, and applicability of general theories of law in real contexts
of legal practice. You will be able to identify possible clashes between competing
theories of law within these contexts and critically to discuss which of these theories
best explains the decision. You will also develop the ability to think about the decision,
and legal practice in general, by questioning its foundational presuppositions with the
help of general legal theories.
Example
To illustrate, suppose the set text is Donoghue v Stevenson [1932] UKHL 100. This
is a seminal case in Scots and English law. It not only significantly influenced the
development of delict (in Scotland) and tort (in England and Wales) law but also the
legal system generally.
For the purposes of the new assessment, we are not interested in the substantive
questions of law raised in the case but rather in the legal philosophical relevance of
the case. For example, we are interested in the way in which both the majority and the
dissenting minority reasoned and the theories of legal reasoning and general theories
of law that might best explain and justify the decision; which underlying theory of
law the decision or the opinions expressed by judges reveal; which view of society is
revealed in the decision; how this view can be challenged from a different perspective.
As you can see, there are many ways in which you might analyse this case, hence the
examiner will provide direction to your studies by asking you to consider the case in
the context of particular jurisprudential theories. So in this example, the examiner
might direct you to consider Donoghue v Stevenson in the context of theories of legal
reasoning, theories of the rule of law, and Marxist theories of law.
Accordingly, questions in the examination might be as follows.
Sample questions
1. Which competing theories of legal reasoning do Lord Atkin’s famous ‘neighbour
principle’, on the one hand, and Lord Buckmaster’s consequentialist arguments
reveal?
Issues that might be considered include: is the principle best understood in terms
of Dworkian interpretivism? Or is it the case that the principle is extracted from law
with the employment of the rule of recognition, as positivists would argue (see for
example Neil MacCormick in Legal theory and legal reasoning). Are consequentialist
arguments ever permissible in legal reasoning and, if so, under what conditions?
2. Does the majority or minority opinion best serve the rule of law?
To answer this question, recall what the requirements of the rule of law are (Lon
Fuller’s account will be necessary here). You must then consider whether each
side’s reasoning observes these basic requirements. To do so, you would need to
refer to theories of legal reasoning (see above). If not, what does this tell us about
the relationship between the rule of law and law’s validity and normativity? For
example, if, say, Donoghue v Stevenson has retroactive effect, does this mean that its
status as law is under question? The debate between Fuller and Hart will help you
to think about this question in more depth.
3. Considering the case as a whole, how would you interpret and criticise it from a
Marxist perspective?
Here a student might consider for example how Marxism sees social relations
generally, and under capitalism in particular, in order to critically rethink the
neighbour principle. Moreover, can Donoghue v Stevenson be interpreted in the
light of Marxist theories of law? For example, consider this: the neighbour principle
seems, at least at first sight, to take some steps towards protecting consumers’
rights. How can this be reconciled with the basic Marxist tenet that law reproduces,
in one way or another, the capitalist mode and relations of production? The work of
Pashukanis as well as accounts of law as ideology will help you to think about this.
To prepare for this part of the assessment, students will need to read the given case
in depth and focus on applying general theories of law to real contexts. They are
advised to research academic writings on the case (some references will be provided
by the examiners) to aid their understanding and ability to critique and evaluate the
judgments given in the case.
The second section of the examination paper will remain unchanged.
1.3.2 Content and orientation of your answer

Sample or model answers can be a disastrous way of teaching jurisprudence since they
suggest that there is only one right way of answering a question. In fact if each reader
displayed real imagination and ingenuity – based on some knowledge, of course – all
the answers would receive firsts, and no two answers would be the same. But there
are some pointers that can be given in the following example. This question appeared
in the 2015 Zone B paper:
uu ‘We will know everything we need to know about the central case of law, once
we have grasped that developed legal systems consist of the union of primary
and secondary rules.’ Discuss.
Content
Here is an example of the content that should be in the answer:
uu First, you would need to outline Hart’s account of fully developed legal systems in
terms of the union of primary and secondary rules. Secondly, and very importantly,
the question calls for a critical discussion of this thesis. A key phrase here is ‘central
case’. What are central cases of concepts? What general features must the central
case of the concept of law have? Does the description of law as the union of
primary and secondary rules meet these requirements or must it be replaced (or
complemented) by something further? To tackle these issues you would of course
need to refer to the relevant literature, namely Hart’s Concept of law, as well as
criticisms levelled against Hart by theorists such as Dworkin, Finnis, and Perry.
Orientation
What is also required is an orientation of your own.
This means stating clearly whether you agree or not, giving reasons. Giving reasons is
important because it is typical for candidates to say in an examination that they either
agree or disagree with some proposition without saying why. In a courtroom, as a
future lawyer, would you think it was acceptable, to your client, to the judge, simply to
say ‘I disagree’ with the argument on the other side? Of course not! So, you might say
something like the following in this part of your answer:
uu Critics of Hart emphasise (we have emphasised the crucial moves in the argument
in bold type) that law is first and foremost a normative order, that is it tells us
what we ought to do. Accepting this, which Hart does, has one very important
upshot. In order to capture law’s nature, one would have to account for law’s
normativity, i.e. law’s ability to guide our actions. Thinking of the central case of law
in terms of the union of primary and secondary rules does not provide a deeper
account of law’s normativity. Critics would also insist that the source of normativity
is unitary. Therefore, if there is any distinction between legal and moral obligation,
it is purely contingent; law and morality are in a continuum. It follows that the
central case of law would have to include the reasons for which law is valuable and
for which we are under an obligation to follow it. It follows that thinking of law in
terms of the union of primary and secondary rules tells us nothing of particular
significance about law or, at the very least, it does not capture the central case of
law. A further implication of this is that, contrary to what Hart argued, law is never
neutral, i.e. independent from morality. In fact, the objection would continue,
Hart implicitly draws a connection between morality and law to the extent that
he views the development of secondary rules as solutions to problems caused by
governing through primary rules alone. He promotes certainty and clarity as to
what the law is over other values that we might want to pursue (his point about
the ‘truisms’ about human nature and the minimum content of natural law might
be relevant here) .
uu But there are at least two answers to this powerful objection. The first is that there
is a distinction between law and the law. Hart maintained that he tried to give a
neutral description of law as an institution in certain contexts. Disagreement as to
the content of the law and why we might or might not be under an obligation to
follow it is a separate, substantive enquiry. One could add to this that one would
have to accept that modern municipal legal systems consist of the union of primary
and secondary rules, independently of what one thinks that the source of law’s
normativity is (one could go further to argue that this is the only uncontroversial
thing that we can say about law). The second answer would be to complement Hart’s
argument about the central case of law with an account of legal normativity that is
independent from morality. Such an argument has been advanced by Marmor, who
regards the law as a constitutive social convention, which generates obligations
independently from the reasons for having the convention in the first place.
uu These arguments point in different directions. In my view, Hart’s arguments are

to be preferred because it is more reconcilable with our intuitions about law
than the objections. When talking about law, at least in certain contexts, we do
refer to institutions of law, the existence of which is neatly captured by the ‘union
of primary and secondary rules’ idea. Nevertheless, a caveat is necessary. This
conception of law does not tell us everything we need to know about law. In order
to develop a deeper understanding of law, we need an account of what makes it
normative. If the neutrality thesis is to be maintained, further argument is required
to complement the ‘union of rules’ idea..
1.3.3 Structure of your answer

The following remarks concern the structure that should be in the answer.
uu An opening paragraph, or set of paragraphs, which should have impact. This sets
out what you are going to do clearly and succinctly and gets straight into it.
uu As in the above argument on the central case of law, the centre section should
contain argument backing up your views. (You can share views with others, giving
reasons; but merely parroting others is certainly not enough.) The point is that you
must back up these ideas.
uu A summing up in which you draw your conclusion. This should not be a repetition
but a neat summary of your view. This summary shows that your answer forms an
argument in which you have set out to do something and that you have done it.
Finally, the following is designed to get you to see what would be very desirable in
answering the question.
uu A jurisprudence answer must show knowledge, independent thought and the

ability to argue. In addition, it must show an ability to cross-reference to other
ideas and writers. This last is essentially the ability to think abstractly.
uu Use examples. It is always helpful to show your awareness that jurisprudential

questions must be tested against real life. In the context of this question,
illustrating your answer with reference to judicial decisions would not go amiss
(but your answer should not be exhausted in this).
Reminder of learning outcomes

By this stage you should be able to:
uu state the intended learning outcomes of the module
uu decide which books to buy and obtain them
uu locate and distinguish the primary and secondary sources
uu devise an appropriate structure for an examination question in Jurisprudence.
Good luck!
Stephen Guest, Adam Gearey, James Penner and Wayne Morrison – July 2004.
Andrea Dolcetti, Emmanuel Melissaris – July 2016.
Jill Marshall – July 2017.

Reflect and review

Look through the points listed below. Are you ready to move on to the next chapter?
Ready to move on = I am satisfied that I have sufficient understanding of the principles

outlined in this chapter to enable me to go on to the next chapter.
Need to revise first = There are one or two areas I am unsure about and need to revise
before I go on to the next chapter.
Need to study again = I found many or all of the principles outlined in this chapter very
difficult and need to go over them again before I move on.
Tick a box for each topic.

Ready to Need to Need to
move on revise first study again
I can state the intended learning outcomes of

the module.   
I can decide which books to buy and obtain them.   
I can locate and distinguish the primary and

secondary sources.   
I can devise an appropriate structure for an

examination question in Jurisprudence.   
If you ticked ‘need to revise first’, which sections of the chapter are you going to
revise?
Must Revision
revise done
1.1 How to study jurisprudence  
1.2 Reading  
1.3 Preparing for an examination in jurisprudence  

2 The nature of jurisprudence
Contents
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14
2.1 What is jurisprudence? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
2.2 Methodology, analysis, theory and the idea of definition . . . . . . . . . 15
2.3 Theory and evaluation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16
2.4 The ‘interpretive’ approach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18

Introduction
This chapter introduces you to the subject matter of jurisprudence, and in particular
to the different methods that jurists have used to produce their theories of law. The
broad distinction very commonly used between two types of theory is that they
are either descriptive of the subject matter of law, in all its forms, or that they are
normative or prescriptive about what the subject matter of law ought to be. These
two ideas – the descriptive and the normative – are very common in jurisprudential
thought. In recent years in Anglo-American jurisprudence, they have been joined,
largely through the work of Ronald Dworkin, by a third type of theory, an interpretive
theory. All these ideas need to be explained.
Learning outcomes
By the end of this chapter and the relevant reading, you should be able to:
uu distinguish, giving examples, between ‘descriptive’, ‘normative’ and
‘interpretive’ theorising
uu indicate what some major problems of jurisprudence are
uu discuss critically the point of defining law
uu explain your own view of the relationship between theory and practice.
Essential reading
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Law’s empire. Chapter 1: ‘What is law?’ and Chapter 2: ‘Interpretive
concepts’.
¢¢ Freeman, M. (ed.) Lloyd’s introduction to jurisprudence. Chapter 1 ‘The nature of

jurisprudence’.
¢¢ Hart, H. The concept of law. Preface and Chapter 1: ‘Persistent questions’ and
Chapter 2: ‘Laws, commands and orders’.
¢¢ Hart, H. Essays in jurisprudence and philosophy Essay 1, particularly pp.21–35 (this

essay is Hart’s famous inaugural lecture at the University of Oxford, which he
delivered in 1952), and Essay 3.
¢¢ Penner, J. (ed.) Introduction to jurisprudence and legal theory. Chapter 1:

‘Approaches to jurisprudence, legal theory and the philosophy of law’.
¢¢ Case: Madzimbamuto v Lardner-Burke (see [1966] RLR 756; SA 1968 (2) 284; and
[1965] A.C. 645.
Jurisprudence and legal theory 2 The nature of jurisprudence page 15
2.1 What is jurisprudence?

Jurisprudence consists of the study of the nature of law and its related ideas.
Many of the difficult problems are purely philosophical. The following are such
problems, and you will be expected to develop your own views in relation to them.
What is definition? What is a rule? What is law? What is morality? What is justice?
What is a critical standpoint?
But there are also interesting questions of political morality which impinge on
your life. Examples are: Should the law enforce conventional morality? What is the
relationship between freedom and equality? How should difficult legal cases be
decided? Can equality take into account differences between sexes? Should judges be
concerned with economic questions? What follows from a person’s ‘having a right’ to
something? What is the justification, if any, for punishing people? Should ‘hate speech’
be a criminal offence? Jurisprudence will help you to formulate your convictions on
these vital questions.
There are, finally, interesting questions of sociology and history such as the following.
What generally shaped the law in Western societies? What were the main claims of
the feminists? What major trends influenced law schools in the United States in the
twentieth century? What are the effects of law? What events can be shaped by the
adoption of laws? Is law of any sort naturally repressive – or liberating?
Jurisprudence is full of outstanding thinkers. Austin and Bentham – both of whom,

in their own ways could be claimed to be the founders of legal education at the
University of London, thought law was about power. Hart and Kelsen thought it was
imbued with authority – although not moral authority as did Fuller of the Harvard Law
School and as does Dworkin. Austin thought judges were deputy legislators. Dworkin
thinks that judges only create law that is largely coherent with existing legal practice.
Marxists think that law only serves the interests of the powerful and the rich. The
‘critical legal scholars’ think law schools provide a veneer of respectability over chaos
and conflict. Some jurists believe that courts enforce moral rights; others, such as
Bentham, think that this idea is ‘nonsense upon stilts’.
Or take Kelsen, the distinguished constitutional lawyer, international lawyer and jurist.
One only has to observe many of the great constitutional cases fought in the highest
courts in countries of present or former Commonwealth jurisdiction over the past 50
years to see the impact that Kelsen had. Indeed, the 1,000 pages of the 1965 decision
of the Rhodesian General Division court of Madzimbamuto v Lardner-Burke (see [1966]
RLR 756; SA 1968 (2) 284; and [1965] AC 645) portray a formidable line-up of jurists
whose ideas were marshalled both for and against the Rhodesian government’s case.
The example of the Nazi legal system, too, with its barbaric laws, has also raised real,
live problems. Did Nazi bureaucrats really have a legal defence of any sort at all when
they declared that they were just obeying orders? This was an acute problem at the
famous Nuremberg war crimes trials which took place after the Second World War had
ended. It continues to be a live issue.
2.2 Methodology, analysis, theory and the idea of definition
Essential reading
uu Dworkin, R. Law’s empire. You should read the whole of this as soon as
possible; to start with it would be useful to follow up some of the references to
‘interpretation’ in the index.
uu Finnis, J. Natural law and natural rights. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011, 2nd
edition) [ISBN 0198761104] Chapter 1: ‘Evaluation and the description of law’.
uu Hart, H. Essays in jurisprudence and philosophy. Intro, pp.1–6, especially pp.5–6;
and Essay 1; The concept of law. (second edition) Chapter 9: ‘Laws and morals’.
uu Raz, J. Ethics in the public domain. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994)
[ISBN 0198258372] Chapter 8: ‘A problem about the nature of law’.
It is vital early on to get a ‘feel’ for what the different jurists you study are trying to
do. It is important to distinguish a ‘descriptive’ theory – loosely, one that describes
things ‘as they are’, as a geographer might describe a continent, or a riverbed –
from a ‘normative’ theory. This latter causes some difficulty at first, because of the
unfamiliarity of the term. But it means a theory which says how people ought to or
may behave (or must, or should, etc. …you’ll get the idea). You should therefore be
able to see why normativity and rule following are two closely related ideas. Laws are
normative because they tell people how they ought to, or may, behave. And a moral
theory like utilitarianism is a normative theory because it says that people ought to
act in the interest of the general happiness.
There are two important things to note. Examination candidates often misunderstand
them:
uu A theory can be descriptive and normative at the same time. This would be the
case where a theorist said ‘this is what law is like’ and ‘this is how we ought to
regard law’. Some people have argued that the best way to read Hart is like this.
uu The subject matter of a descriptive theory can be normative. A descriptive theory

of law will often be like this, since the subject matter is at first sight normative.
For example, we might describe part of the law of England by saying ‘The law is
(description) that people ought not (normativity) to obtain property by deception,
according to s.15 of the Theft Act 1968.’
Hart, Dworkin, Raz and Finnis are very sensitive to these differences, but many other
theorists are not.
Activity 2.1
Give five or six examples of descriptive and normative statements from science,
art, literature, music, morals, law and politics. Contrast them, pointing out the
significant differences.
Start by indicating which of the following statements are descriptive and which
normative: ‘Picasso’s painting Guernica is 20 feet by 10 feet and is mostly black
marks on white’; ‘Guernica is one of the great works of art of the twentieth century’.
Further example: ‘You have a lot to learn’; ‘You ought to get started’.
Are any of your examples also theoretical statements? What is a theoretical
statement?
Feedback: see end of guide.
2.3 Theory and evaluation

Subtle awareness of the role of evaluation in theorising is displayed by Finnis in
Chapter 1: ‘Evaluation and the description of law’ of his Natural law and natural rights.
It is difficult to read but it is well worth it. What is interesting is his affirmation of the
theoretical approach devised by Weber (see Chapter 12 of this module guide):
…that the evaluations of the theorist himself are an indispensable and decisive
component in the selection or formation of any concepts for use in description of such
aspects of human affairs as law or legal order.
Try to see what this means by considering the following comparison between two
evaluative theories of what baldness is. If we can see differences here, it would seem
that the case is clearly established for seeing differences in something like law.
The trichologist, whose job it is to sell hairpieces and baldness cures, is only interested,
qua baldness, in the inability to grow hair. His skinhead son, not interested in earning
a living, thinks baldness is a style thing, one for which the ability to grow hair is
necessary as it shows youth, vitality and sexual power. Dad and son might ask each
other to revise their central conceptions of baldness (‘it’s where the money is, son’;
‘style’s more important than money, Dad’). It seems right to say, along with Finnis, that
these differences in outlook cannot be resolved by reference to language.
Activity 2.2
Consider the trichologist and his skinhead son. This analogy seems powerful. How
powerful is it really?
uu Is there really a ‘common’ concept of baldness that both of them share?
uu Does it make sense to say that they differ in their ‘conceptions’ of this concept?
uu Would it matter if neither of them had never used the word ‘concept’ in their
lives before?
uu What is a ‘concept’?
The approach to theorising I’ve just outlined is much more prevalent now, although
there is a school of jurists who think that proper philosophical analysis proceeds
by way of descriptive accounts of the ‘concepts’ that we already have. For example,
Hart maintains that view in the Postscript to The concept of law, saying that there is a
difference between the characterisation of a concept and what he calls ‘its application’
(although he is a little obscure here). Other jurists, with Raz, take the view that law is
a concept that can be characterised in a way that it is independent of adopting any
evaluative point of view in Finnis’s sense. These jurists can therefore conclude that
Dworkin is wrong to identify questions to do with the justification – Hart’s ‘application’
– of particular legal decision with law as a whole. That is, legal theorists according to
Raz should characterise and describe the concept of law independently of trying to say
that it should serve a special purpose.
Hart’s methodology
For a real insight into what Hart thought methodology in jurisprudence was about,
however, you should read Chapter 9 of The concept of law very carefully, making notes
whenever you think Hart is making a methodological point. You will note that he
spends much time debating the merits of choosing a ‘wide conception of law’ over
a ‘narrow conception of law’, this latter being the natural law conception. You might
have noted in passing that he has moved from talk about ‘the concept’ of law, to two
rival conceptions. And then he makes the give-away remark, on p. 209, that ‘Plainly
we cannot grapple adequately with this issue if we see it as one concerning the
proprieties of linguistic usage’.
Seen against the background of his whole approach in the first part of the book, where
he refers to ‘linguistic usage’, for example, to distinguish the gunman situation from
the legitimate taxman situation (the gunman merely ‘obliges’; the taxman ‘imposes
an obligation’) this is a striking thing to say. Finally, Hart, in one of the most important
paragraphs of his work, says that the main reason for identifying law independently of
morality – in other words, his justification for legal positivism – is to preserve individual
conscience from the demands of the state:
What surely is most needed in order to make men clear-sighted in confronting the official
abuse of power, is that they should preserve the sense that the certification of something
as legally valid is not conclusive of the question of obedience, and that, however great the
aura of majesty or authority which the official system may have, its demands must in the
end be submitted to a moral scrutiny. (p. 210)
You should note, too, Hart’s retrospective admission in the Preface to his Essays in
jurisprudence and philosophy, at pp.5–6, that it is a mistake to think that all questions
can be solved with reference to the way we actually speak.
Summary
It seems possible that theories are produced with a motivation to further a practical
interest. Finnis and Dworkin are clearly of this view, and it seems implicit at least by
halfway through The concept of law and explicit in Chapter 9 of that book.
2.4 The ‘interpretive’ approach
Essential reading
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Law’s empire. Chapter 2 : ‘Interpretive concepts’ (Chapter 3:
‘Jurisprudence revisited’ and Chapter 9: ‘Statutes’ are also very useful).
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Taking rights seriously. Chapter 13: ‘Can rights be controversial?’ and
pp.134–36 (useful on the distinction between concepts and conceptions).
¢¢ Guest, S. Ronald Dworkin. Chapter 2: ‘Law as plain fact’.
One way of taking up these questions about the role of evaluation in the discussion
of concepts is to draw a distinction between ‘concepts’ and ‘conceptions’. Concepts,
we might say, are relatively loose and uncontroversially accepted sets of ideas,
perhaps the sorts of thing dictionary definitions are, overall, concerned with. So a
dictionary will tell us that ‘law’ is to be distinguished from ‘bicycle’ because people
just uncontroversially accept that ‘law’ has to do with rules, sanctions, courts, and
so on, and ‘bicycle’ has to do with pedalled vehicles, two wheels and so on. It only
gets interesting when some theorist proposes a way of looking at the ‘concept’.
Then we might say that he proposes a conception of it. So Fuller’s ‘conception’ of
law differs from, say, Weber’s ‘conception’, because Fuller thought law could only be
characterised in a moral way, whereas Weber thought it could only be characterised,
as Hart does in the earlier part of The concept of law, as value-free.
It was through a distinction between concepts and conceptions, and dissatisfaction

with the rigidity of the distinction between ‘descriptive’ and ‘normative’ accounts of
law, that Dworkin introduced into his theory the methodology of the ‘interpretive
concept’. (Note that Dworkin opts for the spelling ‘interpretive’ rather than the
more classically correct ‘interpretative’.) Dworkin says that the essential idea in
interpretation is ‘making the best of something that it can be’, and this very abstract
idea is to be applied to the idea of law. A number of ways can be used to describe
the idea of making the best of something. The quickest way to the idea is through
the notion of a thing having point, for example. Ask yourself what the point of the
thing you are interpreting is, the way you might ask yourself ‘what is the point of the
prohibition of vehicles in the park’ in the course of producing a legal argument about
roller skates. But another metaphor is that of placing a thing in its ‘best light’, whereby
we assume that the thing has some point and we examine it as thoroughly as we can
to see what is the most sensible way of viewing it.
Summing up
All these questions are deep questions of methodology in general, but you should
think about them particularly in formulating your approach to jurisprudence. You
should be aware of them since they will help you to steer your way through the
various theories and adopt an attitude. If you can lift yourself in thinking about
jurisprudence from merely saying ‘what other people said’ to ‘what I think’, you have
oriented yourself correctly. You should not be deterred by the eminence of these
theorists, or by the apparent abstraction of these ideas. You should be able to say
something of interest and sense to an examiner and thinking about these things will
help your own approach to legal argument as a lawyer because it will make you think
about the methodology you are employing yourself in constructing legal arguments.

uu distinguish, giving examples, between ‘descriptive’, ‘normative’ and
‘interpretive’ theorising
uu indicate what some major problems of jurisprudence are
uu discuss critically the point of defining law
uu explain your own view of the relationship between theory and practice.
Sample examination questions

The following questions are about methodology. In each of them, the good
candidate will provide some answer to the question of what the theorist is trying to
do.
Question 1 What lessons can we learn from Hart’s discussion of the Nazi grudge
informer case?
Question 2 ‘Discuss the role of the “rule of recognition” in Hart’s theory of law.
Does it achieve what he hopes?’
Question 3 How did Hart define legal positivism and what were his arguments
for it?
Advice on answering the questions

Question 1 You should read Chapter 7 of the module guide before trying to answer
this. But the question requires you to think about why that particular case, discussed
by Hart in some depth in Chapter 2 of Essays in jurisprudence and philosophy, and again
in Chapter 9 of The concept of law, should have been decided as Hart says. Given that
the better decision, in Hart’s view, would have been the one that was inspired by an
acceptance of his own theory of law, a good candidate would consider whether Hart
was judging his theory of law according to whether it would produce better judicial
decision-making. If this is what Hart was doing, then it suggests he thought that moral
judgment is what you judge legal theories by.
Question 2 Besides describing and discussing what the rule of recognition is, you
should show the examiner:
uu that you ‘cure the defect’ of uncertainty in a pre-legal world of primary rules
alone; to achieve a distinction between empirical factual statements about the
concordant practice of ‘officials’ of the system and morally evaluative statements,
etc.) and
uu that there might be a difficulty in reconciling description of law with endorsing a

desirable function of law and
uu that you have a view about this.
You will be interested to know that only a few candidates will discuss these final two
points. Good marks in jurisprudence start here, and it is where jurisprudence starts to
become interesting.
Question 3 This would require special attention to:
uu Hart’s method of linguistic analysis
uu his construction of the secondary rules in response to the ‘social defects’ of a

regime of primary rules alone, since this looks ‘practical’ rather than ‘descriptive’
uu his arguments for the ‘wider’ conception of law over the ‘narrower’ conception of
law in Chapter 9.
Reflect and review



I can distinguish, giving examples, between

‘descriptive’, ‘normative’ and ‘interpretive’ theorising.   
I can indicate what some major problems of

jurisprudence are.   
I can discuss critically the point of defining law.   
I can explain my own view of the relationship

between theory and practice.   
revise?
Must Revision
revise done
2.1 What is jurisprudence?  
2.2 Methodology, analysis, theory and the idea of definition  
2.3 Theory and evaluation  
2.4 The ‘interpretive’ approach  

3 Imperative or command theories of law
Contents
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22
3.1 The birth and development of secular or ‘positive’ theories

of law: the case of Thomas Hobbes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23
3.2 Jeremy Bentham . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33
3.3 John Austin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
3.4 Appreciating Austin’s command theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45

Introduction
This chapter considers what can be regarded as the earliest modern legal theory in
England – the imperative or ‘command’ theory of law, associated with Jeremy Bentham
and John Austin. The theory is based in a conception of sovereignty derived from long
traditions of political thought to which Thomas Hobbes was a chief contributor, but
adapted in significant ways to what Bentham and Austin understood as the political,
social and legal conditions of their times. The chapter will first consider the influence
of Thomas Hobbes but most attention will be devoted to Austin since his influence on
the general course of development of legal theory in the UK has been much greater
than that of Bentham, while Hobbes has been strangely neglected.
In reading the material, you are asked to note how Austin’s ideas differ from Hobbes’
or Bentham’s and also to note what each of these writers was reacting against. There
are also a number of general questions to consider:
uu What was it in earlier legal thought that they were so anxious to discard and deny?
uu What was the role of utilitarian considerations in their theories?
uu Hobbes is considered the father of English political liberalism, while Bentham is

usually considered a liberal thinker. How far is this the case with Austin too? Can
Austin be considered to offer in some sense an anti-liberal legal theory?
uu What is Austin’s view of the nature of legal and political authority?
uu Why did Austin (as Hobbes before him) consider that international law was not
really law but a form of positive morality? Why did he consider constitutional law
in a similar way?
uu Are there fundamental problems both with the idea of law as a command and with
the Austinian theory of sovereignty?
uu How apt are Hart’s criticisms of the theory he claims to have discerned from
Austin?
In addition, you should reflect on the process of reading and understanding a writer’s
words, particularly those from an earlier historical period. Should we construct a
model based on their writings which we take to have trans-historical meaning, or
should we seek to understand their theories in the social, economic and political
conditions of their times?
Learning outcomes
By the end of this chapter and the relevant readings, you should be able to:
uu adopt an effective approach to reading original extracts from key writers
uu critically discuss the emergence of legal positivism and the core meaning of legal
positivism
uu discuss the advantages and disadvantages of a theory of law based on the idea of
the commands of the sovereign
uu analyse the social and political context in which Austin wrote and how Hart has
interpreted his project.
Essential reading
¢¢ Penner, et al. Chapter 3: ‘Debating with natural law: the emergence of legal
positivism’.
¢¢ Cotterrell, R. The politics of jurisprudence: a critical introduction to legal

philosophy. (London: Butterworths Law, 2003) second edition [ISBN 0406930554]
Chapter 3: ‘Sovereign and subject: Austin and Bentham’.
¢¢ Morrison, Chapter 9: ‘John Austin and the misunderstood birth of Legal

Positivism’.
Jurisprudence and legal theory 3 Imperative or command theories of law page 23
Further reading
¢¢ Freeman, Chapter 4: ‘Bentham, Austin and classical English positivism’. †
Hobbes was born when on
¢¢ Harris, J. W. Legal philosophies. (London: Butterworths Law, 1997) 5 April 1588 the news that the
Spanish Armada had set sail
[ISBN 0406507163] Chapter 3: ‘The command theory of law’.
shocked the heavily pregnant
¢¢ Davies, H. and D. Holdcroft Jurisprudence: text and commentary. (London: wife of his father, also called
Butterworths Law, 1991) [ISBN 0406504288] Chapter 2: ‘John Austin’. Thomas Hobbes, a rather
disreputable and drunkard
¢¢ Lloyd, D. (Lord Lloyd of Hampstead) The idea of law. (London: Penguin Books,
vicar of Westport, into labour.
1991) [ISBN 0140138307] pp.170–90.
The new Thomas Hobbes was
later to state: ‘My mother
3.1 The birth and development of secular or ‘positive’ theories dear did bring forth twins
at once, both me, and fear’.
of law: the case of Thomas Hobbes Philosophical liberalism was in
a real sense founded upon this
3.1.1 Introduction emotion, and upon Hobbes’
desire to preserve his earthly
The work of Thomas Hobbes† (1588–1679) constitutes the founding moment for the domain against the prospect
stream of political philosophy and political orientation we call liberalism. His work of death.
provides a transition from the medieval intellectual synthesis wherein God was seen Most of Hobbes’ adult life
as the creator of life and God’s presence was seen in the organisation and life flows of was spent as tutor and
the earth to a more secular foundation for government. In many respects Hobbes is secretary to the Cavendishes,
the real father of legal positivism, except that he was several hundred years ahead of Earls of Devonshire. Scholars
his time. have noted how the life
experiences of Hobbes (as
In his famous Leviathan (published in 1651, just after the English Civil War) Hobbes
with John Locke) were exempt
sought to convince his audience – the country’s ruling elite – of a new structure of
from the customary familial
legitimation for government. Or, to put it another way, he came up with a new way of relationships; Hobbes lived
describing the nature of government and justifying the need to obey it. This theory of a life more of contract than
legitimacy, or argument for why we (the ‘subjects’) should give it our obedience, was affection. Although he was
founded on a narrative or story of mankind’s nature – our position in the world – that courageous in the writing of
gave us an understanding of our basic problems of existence. We were meant to see unpopular ideas, Hobbes took
ourselves as actors in this narrative and be led to agree that we would as rational pride in his efforts to escape
creatures (calculating individuals) accept the need for a strong government. His any form of physical danger. As
legitimating idea for modernity was a social contract. well as his self-imposed exile
in France while the civil war
In the midst of a social order facing the chaos of the English Civil War, Hobbes
raged in England, he regularly
presented a new social ethic, that of individual self-assertion. The world was to
took large quantities of spirits
become a site for individuals to follow their desires, to plan their personal and social
and threw up to ‘cleanse the
projects, and to realise their power. Whatever the final power in the cosmos, it was
system’ (although he despised
certain, Hobbes stated, that as we are in charge of civil society, we could fashion a drunkenness), played tennis,
political instrument to allow us to pursue our ends, our interests. Expansion and sang at the top of his voice to
progress were possible; but only if we could first create the framework of a stable exercise his lungs and exorcise
social order: the first and greatest enemy was social chaos. We overcame this through the spirits, and even washed
calculation, the rational calculation of individual humans based on their experience regularly (a rather unusual
and understanding of the human condition. habit at the time!). He gave
up eating red meat in middle
When we read we are subjected to the rhetorical ploys of the writer. Hobbes is still
age ...And in an age not noted
seen as very important, in part because over the centuries since he wrote many people
for the length of the average
have considered that he captures certain key aspects of the human condition. In
life expectancy, he lived to
approaching his work, as with that of all the other writers covered in this module, we
be 91. Hobbes believed that
need to become aware of his foundational assumptions, the way he presents the facts,
through knowledge of the real
the often subtle way he leads the audience into his way of appreciating things, and
human condition we could
then how they make their conclusions seem to flow logically and naturally from what prolong individual and social
proceeds. life. Understanding the role
Hobbes gives a narrative of the ‘natural condition of mankind’, which, some think, of law was crucial and here
he presented in such a way that almost any government would seem better than the Hobbes developed the idea of
law as convention, and society
‘solitary, poor, nasty, brutal and short’ life he gave pre-social-contract man. In this
as an artefact – ideas rather
respect Hobbes is sometimes regarded as the father figure of totalitarian government
submerged in earlier writings.
and as presenting an unnecessarily pessimistic and solitary view of the human
condition (also feminists do not like his images for he begins with an idea of solitary
men, not of people living in families; feminists point out that humans do not begin life
as individuals – they begin life as dependent babies and are made into individuals by
socialisation). For an interesting take on this and a contrasting view from a feminist
perspective, see Held, V. ‘Non-contractual society: a feminist view’ in Hanen, M.P. and K.
Nielsen (eds) Science, morality, and feminist theory (Calgary: University of Calgary Press,
1987).
Hobbes certainly highlights the necessity to obey strong government; he argues for
a sovereign authority which wields supreme power, to save men from the evils of the
‘state of nature’ in which man’s essentially egoistical nature means that life is a ‘war of
all on all’. Hobbes is also regarded as the first political philosopher who developed his
theory on ‘materialist’ foundations, which means he took a strictly ‘scientific’ view of
humans and their place in the world.
3.1.2 Reading a text – Leviathan – in context

We say that to study jurisprudence and legal theory you should read the original texts.
Following are extracts from Leviathan.† But of course simply to present the text is off- †
We can not reproduce the
putting and difficult to focus upon. What should you be looking for? experience that Hobbes
wanted to achieve from his
intended audience. Imagine
you are opening the text. The
first thing that confronts you
is an image. First the ‘we’ that
I am referring to is not the
audience that Hobbes had in
mind. In fact of course you
and I are probably located in
different parts of the globe.
I (WM) am a white male of
New Zealand background
living in London; my frame
of reference is inescapably
global. Given the huge
range of people who study
law through the University
of London International
Programmes, you may range
in age from 21 to 70+, and
be of almost any range
of ethnicity, location and
religious orientation.
Hobbes put this text together in the period 1648–51. His target audience was a very
small group of people; in particular, members of the exiled Royal English Court in
France and other leading individuals in England. What was the background to his
writing? Hobbes wrote at the time of the passing of the superordinate authority of the
Christian church, where religious authority, instead of being a binding force, had itself
become a major source of conflict in Europe. What should replace the claims to loyalty
of religious brotherhood (and religiously orientated Natural Law) or localised feudal
relations? The Thirty Years’ War, the bitterest European conflict yet seen, had laid
waste to much of central Europe and drastically reduced the German-speaking
population, among others. Few people thought ‘globally’ as we mean it today; but,
using our current language, the major blocs of that time appear as a divided European
Christendom, with the strongest powers being the Chinese Empire, localised in its
concerns, and the Islamic Ottoman Empire, somewhat at odds with Islamic Persia. For
centuries Islam, not Christian Europe, had been the place of learning, providing a
world civilisation, polyethnic, multiracial and spread across large sections of the globe.
This was also a time when the great voyages of European discovery were merging into
the imperialist projects that have fashioned much of the political and social contours
of the modern world. Christian Spain finally destroyed the last Muslim (Moorish)
enclave – the Emirate of Granada – in 1492, in the aftermath of which Columbus was
allowed to sail in search of a new route to India. From that time, the ships and military
power of Europeans entered into the wider realms of the globe, overwhelming
cultures and peoples that could not withstand the onslaught, creating new social
and territorial relations in a European image. Driving this world shift in power was
an existential perspective on life itself. Hobbes postulated the basis of the social
bond – in place of dynasties, religious tradition or feudal ties – as rational self-interest
exercised by calculating individuals. As bearers of subjective rationality, individuals
were depicted as forming the social order and giving their allegiance to a government,
a sovereign, because it was in their rational self-interest to do so; thus the metaphor
for the social bond he offered was contractual, not an image of traditional or feudal
ties. The sovereign was now to have a particular territory, which many have rather
loosely termed the ‘nation-state’ – you may note that the Treaty of Westphalia, usually
referred to in international relations or political sociology as beginning the era of the
nation state, had been concluded in 1648.
Activity 3.1 Reading Hobbes

Read the extract from Leviathan that follows. You may find it difficult to begin with,
as the English language has changed a good deal in the last 350 years.
1. Consider the picture of the human condition that Hobbes presents: do you find
it realistic?
2. How apt is the idea of a social contract to found the legitimacy of modern
government?
3. Should ensuring social survival be the basic aim of the law (note how this
influences the ‘minimum content of natural law’ argument used by H.L.A. Hart)
or should the law help direct the conditions for human flourishing?
Write notes on these questions as you proceed.

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Leviathan Extract 1: The introduction

NATURE (the Art whereby God hath made and governs the world) is by the Art of man, as in
many other things, so in this also imitated, that it can make an Artificial Animal. For seeing
life is but a motion of Limbs, the beginning whereof is in some principal part within; why
may we not say that all Automata (Engines that move themselves by springs and wheels
as doth a watch) have an artificial life? For what is the Heart, but a Spring, and the Nerves,
but so many Strings; and the Joints, but so many Wheels, giving motion to the whole body
such as was intended by the Artificer? Art goes yet further, imitating that rational and
most excellent work of nature, Man. For by art is created that great LEVIATHAN called a
COMMON-WEALTH, or STATE (in Latin, CIVITAS) which is but an Artificial Man; though of
greater stature and strength than the Natural, for whose protection and defence it was
intended; and in which the Sovereignty is an Artificial Soul, as giving life and motion to the
whole body. The Magistrates, and other Officers of Judicature and Execution, artificial Joints;
Reward and Punishment (by which fastened to the seat of the Sovereignty, every joint
and member is moved to perform his duty) are the Nerves, that do the same in the body
natural; the Wealth and Riches of all the particular members are, the Strength; Salus Populi
(the peoples safety) its business; counselors, by whom all things needful for it to know, are
suggested unto it, are the Memory; Equity and Laws, an artificial Reason and will; concord,
health; sedition, sickness; and civil war, death. Lastly, the Pacts and Covenants, by which the
parts of this body politic were at first made, set together, and united, resemble that Fiat, or
the Let us make man, pronounced by God in the creation.
To describe the nature of this artificial man, I will consider
First, the Matter thereof, and the Artificer, both which is Man.
Secondly, How, and by what Covenants it is made; what are the Rights and just Power or
Authority of a Sovereign, and what it is that preserveth and dissolveth it.
Thirdly, what is a Christian Common-wealth.
Lastly, what is the Kingdom of Darkness.
Concerning the first, there is a saying much usurped of late, that wisdom is acquired, not
by reading of books, but of men. Consequently whereunto, those persons that for the most
part can give no other proof of being wise, take great delight to show what they think
they have read in men, by uncharitable censures of one another behind their backs. But
there is another saying not of late understood, by which they might learn truly to read
one another, if they would take the pains; and that is, Nosce te ipsum, Read thyself: which
was not meant as it is now used to countenance either the barbarous state of men in
power towards their inferiors; or to encourage men of low degree to a saucy behaviour
towards their betters; but to teach us that for the similitude of the thoughts, and passions
of one man, to the thoughts and passions of another. Whosoever looketh into himself
and considereth what he doth, when he does think, opine, reason, hope, fear, etc., and upon
what grounds, he shall thereby read and know what are the thoughts and passions of all
other men, upon the like occasions. I say the similitude of passions, which are the same
in all men, desire, fear, hope, etc.; not the similitude of objects of the passions, which are
the things desired, feared, hoped, etc: for these the individual constitution and particular
education do so vary, and they are so easy to be kept from our knowledge that the
characters of man’s heart, blotted and confounded as they are with dissembling, lying,
counterfeiting, and erroneous doctrines, are legible only to him that searcheth hearts.
And though by men’s actions we do discover their design sometimes, yet to do it without
comparing them with our own and distinguishing all circumstances by which the case
may come to be altered, is to decipher without a key, and be for the most part deceived by
too much trust or by too much diffidence; as he that reads is himself a good or evil man.
But let one man read another by his actions never so perfectly, it serves him only with his
acquaintance, which are but few. He that is to govern a whole Nation must read in himself
not this or that particular man, but mankind: which though it be hard to do, harder than
to learn any language or science; yet, when I shall have set down my own reading orderly
and perspicuously, the pains left another will be one to consider, if he also finds not the
same in himself. For this kind of doctrine admitteth no other demonstration ...
…whatsoever is the object of any man’s appetite or desire, that is it which he, for his part,
calleth Good: And the object of his hate, and aversion, Evil; and of his contempt, Vile and
Inconsiderable. For these words of Good, Evil, and Contemptible are ever used with relation
to the person that useth them: There being nothing simply and absolutely so; nor any
common Rule of Good and Evil, to be taken from the nature of the objects themselves;
but from the person of the man (where there is no Common-wealth); or (in a Common-
wealth), from the person that representeth it, or from an Arbitrator or Judge, whom men
disagreeing shall by consent set up and make his sentence the Rule thereof …
So much for the introduction, now for Hobbes’ narrative of the natural condition of
mankind.
Leviathan Extract 2: CHAPTER XIII
Of the NATURAL CONDITION of Mankind, as concerning their felicity,† and Misery †

Felicity = happiness (from
Latin felix = happy).
Nature hath made men so equal in the faculties or body and mind as that though there
be found one man sometimes manifestly stronger in body or of quicker mind than
another; yet when all is reckoned together, the difference between man and man, is not
so considerable as that one man can thereupon claim to himself any benefit, to which
another may not pretend as well as he. For as to the strength of body, the weakest has
strength enough to kill the strongest either by secret machination or by confederacy with
others that are in the same danger with himself.
And as to the faculties of the mind, (setting aside the arts grounded upon words, and
especially that skill of proceeding upon general and infallible rules called Science; which
very few have and but in few things; as being not a native faculty, born with us; nor
attained (as Prudence), while we look after somewhat else). I find yet a greater equality
amongst men than that of strength. For prudence is but experience; which equal time
equally bestows on all men, in those things they equally apply themselves unto. That
which may perhaps make such equality incredible is but a vain conceipt of ones own
wisdom, which almost all men think they have in a greater degree than the Vulgar;
that is, than all men but themselves and a few others, whom by fame or for concurring
with themselves, they approve. For such is the nature of men that howsoever they may
acknowledge many others to be more witty, or more eloquent or more learned; yet they
will hardly believe there be many so wise as themselves: For they see their own wit at
hand and other men’s at a distance. But this proveth rather that men are in that point
equal, than unequal. For there is not ordinarily a greater sign of the equal distribution of
anything, than that every man is contended with his share.
From this equality of ability, ariseth equality of hope in the attaining of our Ends. And
therefore if any two men desire the same thing,† which nevertheless they cannot both †
‘Desire the same thing’:
enjoy, they become enemies; and in the way to their end (which is principally their own ‘thing’ in a material sense,
conservation, and sometimes their delectation only), endeavour to destroy or subdue one such as an object or asset.
another. And from hence it comes to pass that where an Invader hath no more to fear than
another man’s single power; if one plants, sows, builds, or possesses a convenient seat,† †
‘Convenient seat’: attractive
others may probably be expected to come prepared with forces united to dispossess and mansion or estate.
deprive him not only of the fruit of his labour, but also of his life or liberty. And the Invader
again is in the like danger of another.
And from this diffidence of one another, there is no way for any man to secure himself
so reasonably as Anticipation; that is, by force or wiles, to master the persons of all men
he can, so long, till he sees no other power great enough to endanger him: And this is no
more than his own conservation required, and is generally allowed. Also because there
be some that taking pleasure in contemplating their own power in the acts of conquest,
which they pursue farther than their security requires; if others, that otherwise would be
glad to be at ease within modest bounds, should not by invasion increase their power,
they would not be able, long time, by standing only on their defence, to subsist. And by
consequence, such augmentation of dominion over men being necessary to a man’s
conservation, it ought to be allowed him.
Again, men have no pleasure (but on the contrary a great deal of grief) in keeping
company, where there is no power able to over-awe them all. For every man looketh that
his companion should value him at the same rate he sets upon himself: And upon all sign
of contempt, or undervaluing, naturally endeavours, as far as he dares (which amongst
them that have no common power to keep them in quiet, is far enough to make them
destroy each other), to extort a greater value from his contemners by dommage; and from
others, by the example.
So that in the nature of man, we find three principal causes of quarrel. First: Competition;
Secondly: Diffidence; Thirdly: Glory.
The first, maketh men invade for Gain; the second, for Safety; and the third, for Reputation.
The first uses Violence to make themselves masters of other men’s persons, wives,
children, and chattel; the second, to defend them; the third, for trifles as a word, a smile,
a different opinion, and any other sign of undervalue, either direct in their persons or by
reflexion in their kindred, their friends, their nation, their profession or their name.
Hereby it is manifest that during the time men live without a common power to keep
them all in awe, they are in that condition which is called War; and such a war as is of every
man against every man. For war consists not in battle only or the act of fighting; but in a
tract of time, wherein the Will to contend by battle is sufficiently known and therefore the
notion of Time is to be considered in the nature of war; as it is in the nature of weather.
For as the nature of foul weather lies not in a shower or two of rain but in an inclination
thereto of many days together, so the nature of war consists not in actual fighting but in
the known disposition thereto, during all the time there is no assurance to the contrary. All
other time is PEACE.
Whatsoever therefore is consequent to a time of war, where every man is enemy to every
man; the same is consequent to the time wherein men live without other security, than
what their own strength and their own invention shall furnish them with. In such
condition, there is no place for Industry because the fruit thereof is uncertain and
consequently no culture of the earth; no navigation nor use of the commodities that may
be imported by sea; no commodious building; no instruments of moving and removing
such things as require much force; no knowledge of the face of the earth; no account of
time; no arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear and danger of
†
violent death; And the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.† ‘Solitary, poor, nasty, brutish,
and short’: these are perhaps
It may seem strange to some man that has not well weighed these things that nature
the most famous words in
should thus dissociate and render men apt to invade and destroy one another: and he
the history of English political
may therefore, not trusting to this inference made from the passions, desire perhaps to
philosophy.
have the same confirmed by experience. Let him therefore consider with himself when
taking a journey, he arms himself and seeks to go well accompanied; when going to sleep,
he locks his doors; when even in his house he locks his chests; and this when he knows
there be laws and public officers, armed, to revenge all injuries shall be done him; what
opinion he has of his fellow subjects when he rides armed; of his fellow citizens when
he locks his doors; and of his children and servants when he locks his chests. Does he
not there as much accuse mankind by his actions, as I do by my words? But neither of us
accuse man’s nature in it. The Desires, and other passions of man are, in themselves, no
sin. No more are the actions that proceed from those passions, till they know a law that
forbids them: which till laws be made they cannot know, nor can any law be made till they
have agreed upon the person that shall make it.
It may, per adventure,† be thought there was never such a time nor condition of war as †
‘Per adventure’ = perhaps.
this, and I believe it was never generally so, over all the world: but there are many places
where they live so now. For the savage people in many places of America, except the
government of small families, the concord whereof dependeth on natural lust, have no
government at all; and live at this day in that brutish manner, as I said before. Howsoever,
it may be perceived what manner of life where would be, where there were no common
power to fear; by the manner of life, which men that have formerly lived under a peaceful
government use to degenerate into, in a civil war.
But though there had never been any time wherein particular men were in a condition
of war one against another; yet in all times, kings, and persons of sovereign authority
because of their independence, are in continual jealousies and in the state and posture
of gladiators; having their weapons pointing, and their eyes fixed on one another; that is,
their forts, garrisons, and guns upon the frontiers of their kingdoms; and continually spy
upon their neighbours which is a posture of war. But because they uphold thereby, the
industry of their subjects, there does not follow from it that misery which accompanies
the liberty of particular men.
To this war of every man against every man, this also is consequent; that nothing can be
unjust. The notions of Right and Wrong, Justice and Injustice have there no place. Where
there is no common power, there is no law: where no law, no injustice. Force, and fraud
are in war, the two cardinal virtues. Justice and injustice are none of the faculties neither
of the body nor mind. If they were, they might be in a man that were alone in the world
as well as his senses and passions. They are qualities that relate to men in society, not
in solitude. It is consequent also to the same condition, that there be no propriety, no
dominion, no Mine and Thine distinct; but only that to be every man’s that he can get;
and for so long as he can keep it. And thus much for the ill condition, which man by mere
nature is actually placed in; though with a possibility to come out of it, consisting partly in
the passions, partly in his reason.
The passions that incline men to peace, are fear of death; desire of such things as are
necessary to commodious living; and a hope by their industry to obtain them. And reason
suggests convenient articles of peace, upon which men may be drawn to agreement.
These articles are they, which otherwise are called the laws of nature: whereof I shall speak
more particularly, in the two following chapters.
In the subsequent chapters Hobbes sets up his key figure of the sovereign, who
lays down the conditions for human flourishing, or individual pursuit of desire by a
set of rules or commands which were laws. But note: Hobbes does not say that the
sovereign makes laws because of power alone: ‘law, properly, is the word of him that
by right hath command over others’ (Leviathan, Chapter 15, emphasis added). Hobbes’
narrative of the human condition and the need for man to set up a common authority
leads to the social contract which authorises the sovereign. Hobbes combated
divided attention; he argued that people had come to obey too many factors and
were swayed by various customs, traditions, religious beliefs, visible powers of their
immediate secular rulers, feudal ties and numerous fears. Since these pulled in
different directions, chaos resulted. Having given his narrative of the state of nature,
Hobbes has us set up a sovereign, a ‘mortal God’ out of our commonly agreeing to a
social contract. The sovereign – or as some more loosely call it, the state – was to make
possible the emergence of a new community, one of rational individuals agreeing
upon a common power to set the rules of the social games of individualist pursuit of
desire and rational self-interest.
3.1.3 Hobbes: context and influence

In Hobbes we have many of the basic characteristics of legal positivism. Law is
something posited by man, it does not flow from God’s creation. Therefore the
relationship between a legal enactment and morality is not straightforward. Does an
enactment or decision by judges need to be moral for it to be accepted as valid law?
Hobbes would appear to say no: it is a matter of sanctions, of the power to enforce
the positively laid down legal statement (in his lifetime the great common law judge
Sir Mathew Hale tried to defend the traditions of the common law against Hobbes
by arguing, in part, that the common law contained accumulated wisdom, while the
image of law as the commands of the sovereign would encourage ad hoc decision-
making or grand political agendas. The power of legislative reason emerged really
in the nineteenth century when Bentham and others saw in the law an instrument
of rational rule, to be used by the political masters and guided by a secure ethical
philosophy – utility).
Many commentators have put the ‘Hobbesian problem’ as the basic question of social
organisation in the ‘modern’ era. As Stephen Collins (Collins, S. From divine cosmos to
sovereign state: an intellectual history of consciousness and the idea of order in renaissance
England (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989) [ISBN 019505458X] pp.28–29).) puts it:
Hobbes understood that a world in flux was natural and that order must be created to
restrain what was natural …Society is no longer a transcendentally articulated reflection of
something predefined, external, and beyond itself which orders existence hierarchically.
It is now a nominal entity ordered by the sovereign state which is its own articulated
representative …
[Forty years after the death of Queen Elizabeth I] order was coming to be understood not
as natural, but as artificial, created by man, and manifestly political and social …Order must
be designed to restrain what appeared ubiquitous (that is flux) …Order became a matter
of power, and power and matter of will, force and calculation …Fundamental to the entire
reconceptualization of the idea of society was the belief that the commonwealth, as was
order, was a human creation.
But how is the state going to rule? What should guide the state?
This is the continuing problem of establishing a rational political philosophy. Note that
Bentham – and Austin after him – thought they had found the answer in utilitarianism.
The question was not so easily solved, however, and is a fertile ground for theorising.
Activity 3.2
Reading a contemporary theorist: H.L.A. Hart
In the extracts from Hobbes we have looked at his version of the natural condition
of humanity. Hobbes presents a strictly materialist conception of mankind and
then a narrative of the ‘natural condition of man’ that served to found his political
philosophy. H.L.A. Hart develops a modern version influenced by Hobbes (and also
the eighteenth-century Scottish philosopher David Hume) in Chapter IX of the
Concept of law.
Read Hart, The concept of law, Chapter IX, particularly pp.193–200, and make notes
on the following questions as you do so:
1. How successful is Hart’s invocation of the minimum condition of natural law?
2. How convincing do you find his ‘truisms’?
3. To what extent does Hart simply follow Hobbes and where does he add to
Hobbes’ narrative of the human condition?
Feedback: you will find all the feedback you need in section 3.1.4 below. (Do not
read on until you have finished reading Hart’s chapter and making the notes for this
activity.)
3.1.4 Understanding Hart’s analysis of the human condition

Many have offered their own narratives of the basic human condition. An early version
is in Plato’s dialogue Protagoras. Plato includes references to a god (Zeus, the principal
god of the Greeks) and a lesser god (Hermes), which is not made by Hart. (The writing
is deliberately allegorical, and the references to the then conventional gods were
meant to be demythologised.)
Men lived at first in scattered groups …They were devoured by wild beasts, since they
were in all respects weaker …They sought to protect themselves by coming together
and building fortified cities; but when they began to gather in communities they could
not help injuring one another in their ignorance of the arts of co-operative living. Zeus,
therefore, fearing the total destruction of the race, sent Hermes to impart to men the
qualities of respect for others and a sense of justice …(Hermes asks whether justice and
respect should be imparted unequally, like the skilled arts, or equally to all alike.) Equally
(said Zeus). There could never be societies if only a few shared these virtues. Moreover,
you must lay it down as my law that if anyone is found incapable of acquiring his share of
these virtues he shall be put to death as a disease in society.
By contrast to the way Hobbes is often read, Protagoras makes it quite clear that the
story about primitive men coming together in a ‘social contract’ is only a story. He
is not implying for a moment that there ever actually was Hobbes’s nasty, brutish
and short-lived savage (or a noble one, for that matter); whether he believed in the
Homeric Gods is another matter. It is an orientating narrative, an intellectual device
used to get a basis for further discussion.
Note that Hart follows Protagoras and Hobbes putting the survival of human society as
the necessary and basic aim: ‘Our concern is with social arrangements for continued
existence, not with those of a suicide club.’ He continues:
We wish to know whether, among these social arrangements, there are some which may
be illuminating ranked as natural laws discoverable by reason, and what their relation is
to human law and morality …Reflection on some very obvious generalisations – indeed
truisms – concerning human nature and the world in which men live, show that as long
as these hold good, there are certain rules of conduct which any social organisation
must contain if it is to be viable. Such rules do in fact constitute a common element in
the law and conventional morality of all societies …where these are distinguished as
different forms of social control. With them are found, both in law and in morals, much
that is peculiar to a particular society and much that may seem arbitrary and a mere
matter of choice. Such universally recognised principles of conduct which have a basis in
elementary truths concerning human beings, their natural environment, and their aims,
may be considered the minimum content of Natural Law.’ (The concept of law, pp.192–93)
There are a number of interesting points in this passage:
1. Hart constantly (three times in this quotation) brackets law with (‘conventional’)
morality, meaning by morality here what Austin called positive morality.
2. Having indicated conventional morality logically he assumes that there is an

unqualified Morality, and this Hart calls natural law, and it is the common content
(i.e. a common factor) both of the various positive moralities and of the various
systems of law.
3. Hart tells us that there is this common content, and tells us what it is; he also offers
an explanation of how he knows what it is. (It is ‘discoverable by reason’.)
4. His explanation (or discovery) of the connection between the basic and necessary
aim, the truisms and his conclusions is founded upon two fundamental principles,
namely:
uu that societies survive (they are not ‘suicide clubs’)
uu that there are certain characteristic features of human beings as a species of

organism on the earth, and certain features of our earthly environment, that
we all share (the ‘truisms’).
5. His conclusion, or justification of the necessity for rules, takes the form of a
logical demonstration, such that, given those features of human beings and the
environment, human society cannot survive unless human beings accept certain
constraints on their behaviour. These constraints are what Hart terms minimum
content of natural law. Given the truisms, certain restrains and rules are a
necessary condition of the survival of human society.
What of the so-called truisms themselves – what is meant by calling them truisms?
Three things: (1) they are true; (2) they are self-evidently true; but (3) they may
be either so obvious that we simply take them for granted and do not see their
significance, or they are not at first sight obvious; in both cases we need to state them
clearly.
The truisms which lead to Hart’s ‘minimum content of natural law’ can be classified as
biological, behavioural and environmental. Hart lists five, but only two of these lead
to any particular content in morals; the other three lead to various other features of
morality which may be called ‘formal’ for the present. The two which lead to a specific
content are human vulnerability and limited resources.
Human vulnerability
This exists in a dialectical relation with a complementary feature, namely destructive
power: a human capacity and readiness to hurt. Thus the truism is that man is by
nature capable of receiving, and of inflicting, serious bodily injury and death. This
is said to be connected with the universally prevalent prohibitions on killing and
injuring, except in closely specified circumstances. The necessity for the connection
can be understood if we imagine a very different natural condition for man: if, for
instance, we were heavily armour-plated, and so incapable of being damaged; or if we
were immobile, like plants, and so incapable of wielding weapons or moving to attack.
Rules against killing or maiming might still exist in these altered conditions, but they
would no longer be necessary.
Limited resources
The fact that the basic necessities of life are always in short supply makes inevitable
some form of property institution (not necessarily, of course, an individualist or
capitalist property system), together with a set of rules governing the exchange
of property, that is, contracts and promises. Again, the necessity of this can be
understood by imagining natural conditions in which human beings never needed
to labour to produce and conserve their resources in order to survive: if, for instance,
they could extract their food from the air (like the Biblical ‘lilies of the field’).
The other three truisms

Hart’s other truisms do not lead to any particular content:
uu Approximate equality (no man is enormously stronger than another) which makes
generally acceptable a common system of mutual forbearances and compromise.
(Morality does not operate between nations, just because nations are not even
approximately equal; and it operates very imperfectly in political relations, for the
same reason: as in the case of electoral promises.)
uu Limited altruism (men are not devils, but neither are they angels) explains the
necessity of restraints, and at the same time their possibility.
uu Limited understanding and strength of will makes it necessary to apply sanctions,

including here the informal sanctions of moral disapproval, as an artificial incentive
to conformity for those whose own reason or self-control are insufficient.
To evaluate Hart’s thesis of a minimum content to natural law, one must be careful
to see just what it is claiming. In one respect it is quite modest, in another ambitious.
It is modest in scope, because it is explicitly concerned only with what it calls the
minimum content of morality; as far as we have seen, it seems to be restricted to
rules governing matters of life and death, injury, property and contracts. Further,
these rules are all prohibitive: there is no positive inducement to act in virtuous
ways, only inhibitions against wrongdoing. Thirdly, only primary rules are dealt with;
nothing is said about those special circumstances in which it may be permissible, or
even mandatory, to destroy life, inflict bodily harm, deprive of possession or break a
promise; and all or most of these things are generally sometimes held to be morally
justifiable.
The reasons for these limitations are fairly obvious. The first limitation – the restricted
range of topics – is explained by the fact that only one basic aim – that of survival – is
considered. (Even this concept was one of social, not individual, survival, as we see
from the end of the quotation from Plato’s Protagoras. Perhaps the two are sufficiently
close for us to downplay the distinction for these purposes.) So any moral rules
which are not directly concerned with survival will not be covered. And this is exactly
what we should expect – after all, survival is the basic aim, because if this aim is not
achieved, no others can be. Only survivors can be do-gooders. But it is quite open to
the natural law theorist to introduce other, less basic aims, to explain other areas of
moral control – and still remain within the area of universally recognised principles,
rather than regional variations. An obvious case would be the moral (and legal)
controls on mating and procreation. It is noticeable that there are no sexual restraints
in Hart’s list, even though such restraints are in fact universal in all societies. The
reason why they are not in Hart’s list is because such things as sexual promiscuity,
incest or adultery are not obviously incompatible with survival, as promiscuous killing
would be.
However, this may be a reflection of the limited sociology of Hart’s account in the
Concept. Most anthropologists have put the incest prohibition at the foundation of
‘natural’ morality. From Levi Strauss to the reflections of Freud, the prohibition is seen
as the starting point of social organisation, trade and inter-group interaction.
Activity 3.3
At this stage, try drafting an answer to this past examination question:
‘Hart says that all legal systems will contain a “minimum content” of morality.
Why did he think it was necessary to concede this to the natural lawyers? Are his
arguments for the minimum successful?’
Further reading on Hobbes

¢¢ Morrison: Jurisprudence: from the Greeks to post-modernity, Chapter 4: ‘Thomas
Hobbes and the origins of the imperative theory of law: or mana transformed
into earthly power’.
3.2 Jeremy Bentham

If Hobbes had argued for the idea of legislative rationality – the government taking
responsibility for organising the nature of civil society and the structures of everyday
interaction and using the law to do so – Bentham assumed both that this was possible
and that it was the responsibility and the duty of government.
Jeremy Bentham was the son of a London attorney and was first educated at the elite
Westminster School before being sent off – at the age of 12! – to Oxford University
(Queen’s College) where he attended lectures on the English common law given by
William Blackstone, a noted university teacher, lawyer, sometime MP and later judge.
From 1763, he studied law at Lincoln’s Inn and was called to the Bar in 1772. Bentham
later stated that he instantly recognised Blackstone’s mistakes in his lectures when
Blackstone claimed that the common law reflected the liberties of the English subject
and was founded upon ideas of natural rights; these Bentham called ‘nonsense on
stilts’. Bentham’s major writings on law begin with criticism of the approach taken
by Blackstone which Blackstone had published in his Commentaries on the laws of
England (first edition published 1765–69). Blackstone hoped the Commentaries would
provide a map for studying the common law and whatever the criticisms of his logic
he was correct as to the influence of his work: the Commentaries were a fantastically
successful text going through over 40 editions, and were largely responsible for the
USA remaining a common law country after independence in 1776. Bentham thought
Blackstone’s analysis was deficient, as it portrayed the common law as growing
organically, containing the wisdom of past decisions and not did not consider the social
impact of the law nor did it offer an image of the law as an instrument of governmental
power (he considered that Blackstone was an apologist for the status quo).
Bentham was a reformer† and to this end he differentiated the question of what the law
was from the question of what the law ought to be. The ‘ought’ part was answered by the
key criterion of judging – or as he put it, the ‘sacred truth’ – that ‘the greatest happiness
of the greatest number is the foundation of morals and legislation’. ‘Enlightened self-
interest’ provided the key to understanding ethics, so that a person who always acted
with a view to his own maximum satisfaction in the long run would always act rightly.
In his Introduction to the principles of morals and legislation (1789), Bentham strove ‘to
cut a new road through the wilds of jurisprudence’ so that the greatest happiness of
the greatest number was to govern our judgment of every institution and action.
You may also note that Bentham was the proponent of a total
institution called the panopticon. This was to be an institution of
perfect control and visibility; the inmate was to be constantly
under the gaze of the overseer. To many this was the perfect
emblem of the dangers of the modernist obsession with legislating,
defining, structuring, segregating, classifying and recording.
That the modern city of reason would end in a living prison would
certainly not have been Bentham’s desire, but the reality of the
holocaust and the great imprisonments of the Soviet Union, the
re-education camps used elsewhere in the world testify to the dark
side of the attempts to define chaos out of social life and define in
order with the aim of creating a utopian society. The marriage of
modern state power and the claim of acting in defence of the truth
needs constant attention (as Weber argued: see Chapter 12).
In his later life a group of people around Bentham tried to create a

university to adopt the utilitarian stance and provide a counter to
Oxford and Cambridge. These ‘Godless heathens of Gower street’
as one critic labelled them, were refused permission, although
they founded University College London. In his will Bentham left
his body to the institution, on condition that after it was publicly
dissected and used for medical display; it would form an ‘auto-icon’
to be permanently displayed.
Jeremy Bentham, as he can be seen today.

3.3 John Austin
3.3.1 Background
As a young man, John Austin’s family bought him a junior commission in the army and
after five years’ service he began to study law in 1812. From 1818 to 1825 he practised,
rather unsuccessfully, at the Chancery Bar. Austin was never a practical man but he
impressed the circle of people (at the time viewed as philosophical radicals, in part for
their programme of reform and their belief in utilitarianism) around Jeremy Bentham
with his powers of rigorous analysis and his uncompromising intellectual honesty.
In 1826, when University College London, was founded, he was appointed its first
professor of jurisprudence; at the time legal education was almost entirely practical
and it was not possible to pursue a university degree in English law. The common
law had been the subject of the lectures of William Blackstone at Oxford, which had
resulted in his massive Commentaries on the law of England, but even as late as 1874
Dicey could give his inaugural lecture on the theme of ‘was English law a fit subject
for University education’! To prepare for the classes Austin spent time in Germany
studying Roman law and the work of German experts on modern civil law, whose ideas
of classification and systematic analysis exerted an influence on him second only to
that of Bentham.
Both Austin and his wife Sarah were ardent utilitarians. While much younger, they
were friends of Bentham and of James Mill, whose son John Stuart Mill was a student
of Austin and later wrote a large review of the full set of lectures Sarah published after
Austin’s death. The review argued that Austin achieved the application of utilitarianism
to law and set out the path for legal reform. A key point for Austin is that to achieve
legal reform (and reform of government and social institutions through law) one has to
have a very clear understanding of the nature of law itself. The first task was to rid our
understanding of law from the confusions and ‘mysteries’ of the common law tradition.
Austin tried to do this by putting ‘positive law’ into a political framework, taken in
considerable part from Hobbes: law was part of the political relations of sovereign and
subject. Austin’s first lectures, in 1828, were attended by several distinguished men, but
he failed to attract students and resigned his chair in 1832. In 1834, after delivering a
shorter but equally unsuccessful version of his lectures, he abandoned the teaching of
jurisprudence. He was appointed to the Criminal Law Commission in 1833 but, finding
little support for his opinions, resigned in frustration after signing its first two reports.
In 1836 he was appointed a commissioner on the affairs of Malta. The Austins then lived
abroad, chiefly in Paris, until 1848 (when a revolution took place, and they lost most
of their money through having to sell their house quickly), after which they settled in
Surrey, where Austin became a much more conservative thinker; he died in 1859.
Austin found little success during his life: recognition came afterwards, and in large
part is owing to his wife Sarah who gave him great support, both moral and economic
(during the later years of their marriage, they lived primarily from her labours as a
translator and reviewer); she edited his notes to publish a more complete set of his
Lectures On Jurisprudence (Austin, 1873). As for his style, read on …
Lecture I
The matter of jurisprudence is positive law: law, simply and strictly so called: or law set
by political superiors to political inferiors. But positive law (or law, simply and strictly so
called) is often confounded with objects to which it is related by resemblance, and with
objects to which it is related in the way of analogy: with objects which are also signified,
properly and improperly, by the large and vague expression law. To obviate the difficulties
springing from that confusion, I begin my projected Course with determining the province
of jurisprudence, or with distinguishing the matter of jurisprudence from those various
related objects: trying to define the subject of which I intend to treat before I endeavour
to analyse its numerous and complicated parts.
A law, in the most general and comprehensive acceptation in which the term, in its literal
meaning, is employed may be said to be a rule laid down for the guidance of an intelligent
being by an intelligent being having power over him. Under this definition are included
and without impropriety, several species. It is necessary to define accurately the line of
demarcation which separates these species from one another, as much mistiness and …
The whole or a portion of the laws set by God to men is frequently styled the law of nature,
or natural law: being, in truth, the only natural law of which it is possible to speak without
a metaphor, or without a blending of objects which ought to be distinguished broadly.
But, rejecting the appellation Law of Nature as ambiguous and misleading, I name those
laws or rules, as considered collectively or in a mass, the Divine law, or the law of God.
Laws set by men to men are of two leading or principal classes: classes which are often
blended, although they differ extremely; and which, for that reason should be severed
precisely and opposed distinctly and conspicuously.
Of the laws or rules set by men to men, some are established by political superiors,
sovereign and subject: by persons exercising supreme and subordinate government, in
independent nations, or independent political societies. The aggregate of the rules thus
established or some aggregate forming a portion of that aggregate, the term law, as used
simply and strictly is exclusively applied. But, as contra-distinguished to natural law, or to
the law of nature (meaning by those expressions, the law of God), the aggregate of the
rules established by political superiors is frequently styled positive law, or law existing by
position. As contra-distinguished to the rules which I style positive morality, and on which
I shall touch immediately the aggregate of the rules, established by political superiors,
may also be marked commodiously with the name of positive law. For the sake then of
getting a name brief and distinctive at once, and agreeably to frequent usage, I style that
aggregate of rules or any portion of that aggregate, positive law: though rules which are
not established by political superiors, are also positive, or exist by position; if they be rules
or laws in the proper signification of …
Closely analogous to human laws of this second class are a set of objects frequently but
improperly termed laws, being rules set and enforced by mere opinion, that is, by the
opinions or sentiments held or felt by an indeterminate body of men in regard to human
conduct. Instances of such a use of the term law are the expressions – ‘The law of honour;’
‘The law set by fashion;’ and rules of this species constitute much of what is usually termed
‘International law.’
The aggregate of human laws properly so called belonging to the second of the classes
above mentioned, with the aggregate of objects improperly but by close analogy termed
laws, I place together in a common class, and denote them by the term positive morality.
The name morality severs them from positive law, while the epithet positive disjoins them
from the law of God. And to the end of obviating confusion, it is necessary or expedient
that they should be disjoined from the latter by that distinguishing epithet. For the name
morality (or morals), when standing unqualified or alone, denotes indifferently either of
the following objects, namely, positive morality as it is, or without regard to its merits;
and positive morality as it would be, if it conformed to the law of God, and were therefore
deserving of approbation.
Besides the various sorts of rules which are included in the literal acceptation of the term
law, and those which are by a close and striking analogy, though improperly, termed laws.
There are numerous applications of the term law, which rest upon a slender analogy and
are merely metaphorical or figurative. Such is the case when we talk of laws observed
by the lower animals; of laws regulating the growth or decay of vegetables; of laws
determining the movements of inanimate bodies or masses. For where intelligence is not,
or where it is too bounded to take the name of reason and, therefore, is too bounded
to conceive the purpose of a law, there is not the will, which law can work on or which
duty can incite or restrain. Yet through these misapplications of a name, flagrant as
the metaphor is, has the filed of jurisprudence and morals been deluged with muddy
speculation.
[Having] suggested the purpose of my attempt to determine the province of

jurisprudence: to distinguish positive law, the appropriate matter of jurisprudence, from
the various objects to which it is related by resemblance, and to which it is related nearly
or remotely by a strong or slender analogy: I shall [now] state the essentials of a law or rule
(taken with the largest signification which can be given to the term properly).
Every law or rule (taken with the largest signification which can be given to the term
properly) is a command. Or rather, laws or rules, properly so called, are a species of commands.
Now, since the term command comprises the term law, the first is the simpler as well as
the larger of the two. But, simple as it is, it admits of explanation. And, since it is the key to
the sciences of jurisprudence and morals, its meaning should be analysed with precision.
Accordingly, I shall endeavour, in the first instance, to analyse the meaning of ‘command’:
an analysis which I fear will task the patience of my hearers but which they will bear with
cheerfulness or, at least, with resignation, if they consider the difficulty of performing it.
The elements of a science are precisely the parts of it which are explained least easily.
Terms that are the largest and, therefore, the simplest of a series are without equivalent
expressions into which we can resolve them concisely. And when we endeavour to define
them or to translate them into terms which we suppose are better understood, we are
forced upon awkward and tedious circumlocutions.
If you express or intimate a wish that I shall do or forbear from some act, and if you will
visit me with an evil in case I comply not with your wish, the expression or intimation of
your wish is a command. A command is distinguished from other signification of desire,
not by the style in which the desire is signified, but by the power and the purpose of the
party commanding to inflict an evil or pain in case the desire be disregarded. If you cannot
or will not harm me in case I comply not with your wish, the expression of your wish is not
a command, although you utter your wish in imperative phrase. If you are able and willing
to harm me in case I comply not with your wish, the expression of your wish amounts to
a command, although you are prompted by a spirit of courtesy to utter it in the shape of
a request. ‘Preces erant, sed quibus contradici non posset.’ Such is the language of Tacitus,
when speaking of a petition by the soldiery to a son and lieutenant of Vespasian.
A command then is a signification of desire. But a command is distinguished from other

signification of desire by this peculiarity: that the party to whom it is intended is liable to
evil from the other, in case he complies not with the desire.
Being liable to evil from you if I comply not with a wish, which you signify, I am bound or
obliged by your command, or I lie under a duty to obey it. If, in spite of that evil in prospect,
I comply not with the wish which you signify, I am said to disobey your command, or to
violate the duty which it imposes.
Command and duty are, therefore, correlative terms: the meaning denoted by each being
implied or supposed by the other. Or (changing the expression) wherever a duty lies, a
command has been signified; and wherever a command is signified, a duty is imposed.
Concisely expressed, the meaning of the correlative expressions is this. He who will inflict
an evil in case his desire be disregarded, utters a command by expressing or intimating his
desire: He who is liable to the evil in case he disregard the desire, is bound or obliged by
the command.
The evil which will probably be incurred in case a command be disobeyed or (to use an
equivalent expression) in case a duty be broken, is frequently called a sanction, or an
enforcement of obedience. Or (varying the phrase) the command or the duty is said to be
sanctioned or enforced by the chance of incurring the evil.
Considered as thus abstracted from the command and the duty which it enforces, the evil
to be incurred by disobedience is frequently styled a punishment. But, as punishments,
strictly so called, are only a class of sanctions, the term is too narrow to express the
meaning adequately.
It appears from what has been premised that a law, properly so called, may be defined in
the following manner.
A law is a command which obliges a person or persons.
But, as contra-distinguished or opposed to an occasional or particular command, a

law is a command which obliges a person or persons, and obliges generally to acts or
forbearances of a class.
In language more popular but less distinct and precise, a law is a command which obliges
a person or person to a course of conduct …
It appears from what he has been premised, that a law, properly so called, may be defined
in the following manner.
A law is a command which obliges a person or persons.
But, as contra-distinguished or opposed to an occasional or particular command, a law is a

command which obliges a person or persons, and obliges generally to acts or forbearances
of a class.
In language more popular but less distinct and precise, a law is a command which obliges
a person or persons to a course of conduct.
Laws and other commands are said to proceed from superiors, and to bind or oblige
inferiors. I will, therefore, analyse the meaning of those correlative expressions; and will try
to strip them of a certain mystery, by which that simple meaning appears to be obscured.
Superiority is often synonymous with precedence or excellence. We talk of superiors in

rank; of superiors in wealth; of superiors in virtue: comparing certain persons with certain
other persons; and meaning that the former precede or excel the latter in rank, in wealth,
or in virtue.
But, taken with the meaning wherein I here understand it, the term superiority signifies
might: the power of affecting others with evil or pain, and of forcing them, through fear of
that evil, to fashion their conduct to one’s wishes.
For example, God is emphatically the superior of man. For His power of affecting us with
pain and of forcing us to comply with His will is unbounded and resistless.
To a limited extent, the sovereign One or Number is the superior of the subject or citizen:
the Master of the slave or servant, the Father of the child.
In short, whoever can oblige another to comply with his wishes, is the superior of that
other, so far as the ability reaches: The party who is obnoxious to the impending evil,
being to that same extent, the inferior.
The might or superiority of God, is simple or absolute. But in all or most cases of human
superiority, the relation of superior and inferior, and the relation of inferior and superior,
are reciprocal. Or (changing the expression) the party who is the superior as viewed from
one aspect, is the inferior as viewed from another.
For example, to an indefinite, though limited extent, the monarch is the superior of the
governed: his power being commonly sufficient to enforce compliance with his will. But
the governed, collectively or in mass, are also the superior of the monarch: who is checked
in the abuse of his might by his fear of exciting their anger; and of rousing to active
resistance the might which slumbers in the multitude.
A member of a sovereign assembly is the superior of the judge: the judge being bound
by the law which proceeds from that sovereign body. But, in his character of citizen or
subject, he is the inferior of the judge: the judge being the minister of the law, and armed
with the power of enforcing it.
It appears, then, that the term superiority (like the term’s duty and sanction) is implied by
the term command. For superiority is the power of enforcing compliance with a wish: and
the expression or intimation of a wish, with the power and the purpose of enforcing it, are
the constituent elements of a command.
‘That laws emanate from superiors’ is, therefore, an identical proposition. For the meaning,
which it affects to impart, is contained in its subject.
If I mark the peculiar source of a given law, or if I mark the peculiar source of laws of a
given class, it is possible that I am saying something which may instruct the hearer. But
to affirm of laws universally ‘that they flow from superiors,’ or to affirm of laws universally
‘that inferiors are bound to obey them’, is the merest tautology and trifling.
According to an opinion which I must notice incidentally here, though the subject to which
it relates will be treated directly hereafter, customary laws must be excepted from the
proposition ‘that laws are a species of commands’.
By many of the admirers of customary laws (and especially of their German admirers),
they are thought to oblige legally (independently of the sovereign or state), because the
citizens or subjects have observed or kept them. Agreeably to this opinion, they are not
the creatures of the sovereign or state, although the sovereign or state may abolish them
at pleasure. Agreeably to this opinion, they are positive law (or law, strictly so called),
inasmuch as they are enforced by the courts of justice: But, that notwithstanding, they
exist as positive law by the spontaneous adoption of the governed, and not by position
or establishment on the part of political superiors. Consequently, customary laws,
considered as positive law, are not commands. And, consequently, customary laws,
considered as positive law, are not laws or rules properly so called.
An opinion less mysterious, but somewhat allied to this, is not uncommonly held by
the adverse party: by the party which is strongly opposed to customary law; and to all
law made judicially, or in the way of judicial legislation. According to the latter opinion,
all judge-made law, established by subject judges, is purely the creature of the judges
by whom it is established immediately. To impute it to the sovereign legislature, or to
suppose that it speaks the will of the sovereign legislature, is one of the foolish or knavish
fictions with which lawyers, in every age and nation, have perplexed and darkened the
simplest and clearest truths.
I think it will appear, on a moment’s reflection, that each of these opinions is groundless:
that customary law is imperative, in the proper signification of the term; and that all judge-
made law is the creature of the sovereign or state.
At its origin, a custom is a rule of conduct which the governed observe spontaneously,
or not in pursuance of a law set by a political superior. The custom is transmuted into
positive law, when it is adopted as such by the courts of justice, and when the judicial
decisions fashioned upon it are enforced by the power of the state. But before it is
adopted by the courts, and clothed with the legal sanction, it is merely a rule of positive
morality: a rule generally observed by the citizens or subjects; but deriving the only force,
which it can be said to possess, from the general dis-approbation falling on those who
transgress it.
Now when judges transmute a custom into a legal rule (or make a legal rule not
suggested by a custom), the legal rule which they establish is established by the sovereign
legislature. A subordinate or subject judge is merely a minister. The portion of the
sovereign power which lies at this disposition is merely delegated. The rules which he
makes derive their legal force from authority given by the state: an authority which the
state may confer expressly, but which it commonly imparts in the way of acquiescence.
For, since the state may reverse the rules which he makes, and yet permit him to enforce
them by the power of the political community, its sovereign will ‘that his rules shall obtain
as law’ is clearly evinced by its conduct, though not by its express declaration.
The admirers of customary law love to trick out their idol with mysterious and imposing
attributes. But to those who can see the difference between positive law and morality,
there is nothing of mystery about it. Considered as rules of positive morality, customary
laws arise from the consent of the governed, and not from the position or establishment
of political superiors. But, considered as moral rules turned into positive laws, customary
laws are established by the state: established by the state directly, when the customs are
promulged in its statutes; established by the state circuitously, when the customs are
adopted by its tribunals.
The opinion of the party which abhors judge-made laws, springs from their inadequate
conception of the nature of commands.
Like other significations of desire, a command is express or tacit. If the desire be signified
by words (written or spoken), the command is express. If the desire be signified by
conduct (or by any signs of desire which are not words), the command is tacit.
Now when customs are turned into legal rules by decisions of subject judges, the legal
rules which emerge from the customs are tacit commands of the sovereign legislature.
The state, which is able to abolish, permits its ministers to enforce them: and it, therefore,
signifies its pleasure, by that its voluntary acquiescence, ‘that they shall serve as a law to
the governed.’
My present purpose is merely this: to prove that the positive law styled customary (and
all positive law made judicially) is established by the state directly or circuitously, and,
therefore, is imperative. I am far from disputing, that law made judicially (or in the way of
improper legislation) and law made by statute (or in the properly legislative manner) are
distinguished by weighty differences. I shall inquire, in future lectures, what those
differences are; and why subject judges, who are properly ministers of the law, have
commonly shared with the sovereign in the business of making it.
I assume then that the only laws which are not imperative, and which belong to the
subject-matter of jurisprudence, are the following: 1) Declaratory laws, or laws explaining
the import of existing positive law. 2) Laws abrogating or repealing existing positive law. 3)
Imperfect laws, or laws of imperfect obligation (with the sense wherein the expression is
used by the Roman jurists).
But the space occupied in the science by these improper laws is comparatively narrow
and insignificant. Accordingly, although I shall take them into account so often as I refer
to them directly, I shall throw them out of account on other occasions. Or (changing
the expression) I shall limit the term law to laws which are imperative, unless I extend it
expressly to laws which are not …
Lecture V
…Positive laws, or laws strictly so called, are established directly or immediately by
authors of three kinds: by monarchs, or sovereign bodies, as supreme political superiors:
by men in a state of subjection, as subordinate political superiors: by subjects, as private
persons, in pursuance of legal rights. But every positive law, or every law strictly so called,
is a direct or circuitous command of a monarch or sovereign number in the character of
political superior: that is to say, a direct or circuitous command of a monarch or sovereign
number to a person or persons in a state of subjection to its author. And being a command
(and therefore flowing from a determinate source), every positive law is a law proper, or a
law properly so called.
Besides the human laws which I style positive law, there are human laws which I style
positive morality, rules of positive morality, or positive moral rules.
The generic character of laws of the class may be stated briefly in the following negative
manner: No law belonging to the class is a direct or circuitous command of a monarch or
sovereign number in the character of political superior. In other words, no law belonging
to the class is a direct or circuitous command of a monarch or sovereign number to a
person or persons in a state of subjection to its author.
But of positive moral rules, some are laws proper, or laws properly so called: others are
laws improper, or laws improperly so called. Some have all the essentials of an imperative
law or rule: others are deficient in some of those essentials of an imperative law or
rule: others are deficient in some of those essentials, and are styled laws or rules by an
analogical extension of the term.
The positive moral rules which are laws properly so called, are distinguished from other
laws by the union of two marks: 1) They are imperative laws or rules set by men to men. 2)
They are not set by men as political superiors, nor are they set by men as private persons,
in pursuance of legal rights.
Inasmuch as they bear the latter of these two marks, they are not commands of sovereigns
in the character of political superiors. Consequently, they are not positive laws: they are
not clothed with legal sanctions, nor do they oblige legally the persons to whom they
are set. But being commands (and therefore being established by determinate individuals
or bodies), they are laws properly so called: they are armed with sanctions, and impose
duties, in the proper acceptation of the terms.
The positive moral rules which are laws improperly so called, are laws set or imposed
by general opinion: that is to say, by the general opinion of any class or any society of
persons. For example, some are set or imposed by the general opinion of persons who
are members of a profession or calling: others, by that of person who inhabit a town or
province: others, by that of a nation or independent political society: others, by that of a
larger society formed of various nations.
A few species of the laws which are set by general opinion have gotten appropriate names
– For example, there are laws or rules imposed upon gentlemen by opinions current
amongst gentlemen. And these are usually styled the rules of honour, or the laws or law of
honour – There are laws or rules imposed upon people of fashion by opinions current in
the fashionable world. And these are usually styled the law set by fashion. There are laws
which regard the conduct of independent political societies in their various relations to
one another: Or rather, there are laws which regard the conduct of sovereigns or supreme
governments in their various relations to one another. And laws or rules of this species,
which are imposed upon nations or sovereigns by opinions current amongst nations, are
usually styled the law of nations or international law.
Now a law set or imposed by general opinion is a law improperly so called. It is styled a
law or rule by an analogical extension of the term. When we speak of a law set by general
opinion, we denote, by that expression, the following fact: Some indeterminate body or
uncertain aggregate of person regards a kind of conduct with a sentiment of aversion
or liking: Or (changing the expression) that indeterminate body opines unfavourably or
favourably of a given kind of conduct. In consequence of that sentiment, or in consequence
of that opinion, it is likely that they or some of them will be displeased with a party who
shall pursue or not pursue conduct of that kind. And, in consequence of that displeasure, it
is likely that some party (what party being undetermined) will visit the party provoking it
with some evil or another.
The body by whose opinion the law is said to be set, does not command, expressly or
tacitly, that conduct of the given kind shall be forborne or pursued. For, since it is not
a body precisely determined or certain, it cannot as a body express or intimate a wish.
As a body, it cannot signify a wish by oral or written words, or by positive or negative
department. The so called law or rule which its opinion is said to impose, is merely the
sentiment which it feels, or is merely the opinion which it holds, in regard to a kind of
conduct.
In the foregoing analysis of a law set by general opinion, the meaning of the expression
‘indeterminate body of persons’ is indicated rather than explained. To complete my analysis
of a law set by general opinion (and to abridge that analysis of sovereignty which I shall
place in my sixth lecture), I will here insert a concise exposition of the following pregnant
distinction: namely, the distinction between a determinate, and an indeterminate body of
single or individual persons – If my exposition of the distinction shall appear obscure and
crabbed, my hearers (I hope) will recollect that the distinction could hardly be expounded
in lucid and flowing expressions.
I will first describe the distinction in general or abstract terms, and will then exemplify and
illustrate the general or abstract description.
If a body of persons be determinate, all the persons who compose it are determined and
assignable, or every person who belongs to it is determined and may be indicated.
But determinate bodies are of two kinds.
A determinate body of one of those kinds is distinguished by the following marks: (1)
The body is composed of persons determined specifically or individually, or determined
by characters or descriptions respectively appropriate to themselves. (2) Though every
individual member must of necessity answer to many generic descriptions, every
individual member is a member of the determinate body, not by reason of his answering
to any generic description but by reason of his bearing his specific or appropriate
character.
A determinate body of the other of those kinds is distinguished by the following marks:
(1) It comprises all the persons who belong to a given class, or who belong respectively to
two or more of such classes. In other words, every person who answers to a given generic
description, or to any of two or more given generic descriptions, is also a member of
the determinate body. (2) Though every individual member is of necessity determined
by a specific or appropriate character, every individual member is a member of the
determinate body, not by reason of his answering to the given generic description.
If a body be indeterminate, all the persons who compose it are not determined and
assignable. Or (changing the expression) every person who belongs to it is not determined
and therefore cannot be indicated – For an indeterminate body consists of some of the
persons who belong to another and larger aggregate. But how many of those persons are
members of the indeterminate body, or which of those persons in particular are members of
the indeterminate body, is not and cannot be known completely and exactly …
Lecture VI
…I shall finish, in the present lecture, the purpose mentioned above, by explaining the
marks or characters which distinguish positive laws, or laws strictly so called. And, in
order to an explanation of the marks which distinguish positive laws, I shall analyse
the expression sovereignty, the correlative expression subjection, and the inseparably
connected expression independent political society. With the ends or final causes for which
governments ought to exist, or with their different degrees of fitness to attain or approach
those ends, I have no concern. I examine the notions of sovereignty and independent
political society, in order that I may finish the purpose to which I have adverted above:
in order that I may distinguish completely the appropriate province of jurisprudence
from the regions which lie upon its confines, and by which it is encircled. It is necessary
that I should examine those notions, in order that I may finish that purpose. For the
essential difference of a positive law (or the difference that severs it from a law which is
not a positive law) may be stated thus. Every positive law or every law simply and strictly
so called, is set by a sovereign person, or a sovereign body of persons, to a member or
members of the independent political society wherein that person or body is sovereign
or supreme. Or (changing the expression) it is set by a monarch, or sovereign number, to a
person or persons in a state of subjection to its author. Even though it sprung directly from
another fountain or source, it is a positive law, or a law strictly so called, by the institution
of that present sovereign in the character of political superior. Or (borrowing the language
of Hobbes) ‘the legislator is he, not by whose authority the law was first made, but by
whose authority it continues to be a law.’
The superiority which is styled sovereignty, and the independent political society which
sovereignty implies, is distinguished from other superiority, and from other society, by the
following marks or characters: (1) The bulk of the given society are in a habit of obedience
or submission to a determinate and common superior: let that common superior be a
certain individual person, or a certain body or aggregate of individual person. (2) That
certain individual, or that certain body of individuals is not in a habit of obedience to a
determinate human superior. Laws (improperly so called) which opinion sets or imposes,
may permanently affect the conduct of that certain individual or body. To express or
tacit commands of other determinate parties, that certain individual or body may yield
occasional submission. But there is no determinate person, or determinate aggregate of
persons, to whose commands, express or tacit, that certain individual or body renders
habitual obedience.
Or the notions of sovereignty and independent political society may be expressed

concisely thus – If a determinate human superior, not in a habit of obedience to a like
superior, receive habitual obedience from the bulk of a given society, that determinate
superior is sovereign in that society, and the society (including the superior) is a society
political and independent.
To that determinate superior, the other members of the society are subject: or on that
determinate superior, the other members of the society are dependent. The position of
its other members towards that determinate superior, is a state of subjection, or a state of
dependence. The mutual relation which subsists between that superior and them, may be
styled the relation of sovereign and subject, or the relation of sovereignty and subjection.
Hence it follows, that it is only through an ellipsis, or an abridged form of expression, that
the society is styled independent. The party truly independent (independent, that is to
say, of a determinate human superior), is not the society, but the sovereign portion of the
society: that certain member of the society, or that certain body of its members, to whose
commands, expressed or intimated, the generality or bulk of its members render habitual
obedience. Upon that certain person, or certain body of persons, the other members
of the society are dependent: or to that certain person or certain body of persons, the
other members of the society are subject. By ‘an independent political society’, or ‘an
independent and sovereign nation’, we mean a political society consisting of a sovereign
and subjects, as opposed to a political society which is merely subordinate: that is to
say, which is merely a limb or member of another political society, and which therefore
consists entirely of persons in a state of subjection.
In order that a given society may form a society political and independent, the two
distinguishing marks which I have mentioned above must unite. The generality of
the given society must be in the habit of obedience to a determinate and common
superior: whilst that determinate person, or determinate body of persons must not be
habitually obedient to a determinate person or body. It is the union of that positive,
with this negative mark, which renders that certain superior sovereign or supreme, and
which renders that given society (including that certain superior) a society political and
independent.
In order that a given society may form a society political and independent, the positive
and negative marks which I have mentioned above must unite. The generality or bulk of its
members must be in a habit of obedience to a certain and common superior: whilst that
certain person, or certain body of persons, must not be habitually obedient to a certain
person or body.
But, in order that the bulk of its members may render obedience to a common superior,
how many of its members, or what proportion of its members, must render obedience to
one and the same superior? And, assuming that the bulk of its members render obedience
to a common superior, how often must they render it, and how long must they render
it, in order that that obedience may be habitual? Now since these questions cannot be
answered precisely, the positive mark of sovereignty and independent political society is a
fallible test of specific or particular cases.
Note* – on the prevailing tendency to confound what is with what ought to be law or
morality, that is, first, to confound positive law with the science of legislation, and positive
morality with deontology; and secondly, to confound positive law with positive morality,
and both with legislation and deontology.
The existence of law is one thing; its merit or demerit is another. Whether it be or be not
is one enquiry; whether it be or be not conformable to an assumed standard, is a different
enquiry. A law which actually exists, is a law, though we happen to dislike it or though it
very from the text by which we regulate our approbation and disapprobation. This truth,
when formally announced as an abstract proposition, is so simple and glaring that it
seems idle to insist upon it. But simple and glaring as it is, when enunciated in abstract
expressions the enumeration of the instances in which it has been forgotten would fill a
volume.
Sir William Blackstone, for example, says in his ‘Commentaries’ that the laws of God
are superior in obligation to all other laws; that no human laws should be suffered to
contradict them; that human laws are of no validity if contrary to them; and that all valid
laws derive their force from that Divine original.
Now, he may mean that all human laws ought to conform to the Divine laws. If this be
his meaning, I assent to it without hesitation. The evils which we are exposed to suffer
from the hands of God as a consequence of disobeying His commands are the greatest
evils to which we are obnoxious; the obligations which they impose are consequently
paramount to those imposed by any other laws, and if human commands conflict with
the Divine law, we ought to disobey the command which is enforced by the less powerful
sanction; this is implied in the term ought: the proposition is identical, and therefore
perfectly indisputable – it is our interest to choose the smaller and more uncertain evil,
in preference to the greater and surer. If this be Blackstone’s meaning, I assent to his
proposition and have only to object to it, that it tells us just nothing. Perhaps, again, he
means that human lawgivers are themselves obliged by the Divine laws to fashion the laws
which they impose by that ultimate standard, because of they do not, God will punish
them. To this also I entirely assent: for if the index to the law of God be the principle of
utility, that law embraces the whole of our voluntary actions in so far as motives applied
from without are required to give them a direction conformable to the general happiness.
But the meaning of this passage of Blackstone, if it has a meaning, seems rather to be this:
that no human law which conflicts with the Divine law is obligatory or binding; in other
words, that no human law which conflicts with the Divine law is a law, for a law without
an obligation is a contradiction in terms. I suppose this to be his meaning, because when
we say of any transaction that it is invalid or void, we mean that it is not binding: as, for
example, if it be a contract, we mean that the political law will not lend its sanction to
enforce the contract.
Now, to say that human laws which conflict with the Divine law are not binding, that is
to say, are not laws, is to talk stark nonsense. The most pernicious laws, and therefore
those which are most opposed to the will of God, have been and are continually enforced
as laws by judicial tribunals. Suppose an act innocuous, or positively beneficial, be
prohibited by the sovereign under the penalty of death; if I commit this act, I shall be
tried and condemned, and if I object to the sentence that it is contrary to the law of God,
who has commanded that human lawgivers shall not prohibit acts which have no evil
consequences, the Court of Justice will demonstrate the inconclusiveness of my reasoning
by hanging me up, in pursuance of the law of which I have impugned the validity. An
exception, demurrer, or plea, founded on the law of God was never heard in a Court of
Justice, from the creation of the world down to the present moment.
But this abuse of language is not merely puerile, it is mischievous. When it is said that a
law ought to be disobeyed, what is meant is that we are urged to disobey it by motives
more cogent and compulsory than those by which it is itself sanctioned. If the laws
of God are certain, the motives which they hold out to disobey any human command
which is at variance with them are paramount to all others. But the laws of God are not
always certain. All divines, at least all reasonable divines, admit that no scheme of duties
perfectly complete and unambiguous was every imparted to us by revelation. As an index
to the Divine will, utility is obviously insufficient. What appears pernicious to one person
may appear beneficial to another. And as for the moral sense, innate practical principles,
conscience, they are merely convenient cloaks for ignorance or sinister interest: they
mean either that I have the law to which I object and cannot tell why, or that I hate the
law, and that the cause of my hatred is one which I find it incommodious to avow. If I say
openly, I hate the law, ergo, it is not binding and ought to be disobeyed, no one will listen
to me; but by calling my hate my conscience or my moral sense, I urge the same argument
in another and more plausible form: I seem to assign a reason for my dislike, when in truth
I have only given it a sounding and specious name. In times of civil discord the mischief
of this detestable abuse of language is apparent. In quiet times the dictates of utility are
fortunately so obvious that the anarchical doctrine sleeps, and men habitually admit the
validity of laws which they dislike. To prove by pertinent reasons that a law is pernicious is
highly useful, because such process may lead to the abrogation of the pernicious law. To
incite the public to resistance by determinate views of utility may be useful, for resistance,
grounded on clear and definite prospects of good, is sometimes beneficial. But to
proclaim generally that all laws which are pernicious or contrary to the will of God are void
and not to be tolerated, is to preach anarchy, hostile and perilous as much to wise and
benign rule as to stupid and galling tyranny.
Do Austin’s lectures seem rather dry stuff? It is important to read this material in
conjunction with Roger Cotterrell’s Chapter 3: ‘Sovereign and Subject: Austin and
Bentham’ and Morrison’s Chapter 4: ‘Thomas Hobbes and the origins of the imperative
theory of law: or mana transformed into earthly power’ to see the location and
meaning of Austin’s project.
Austin always said that his work in The Province was ‘merely prefatory’ to a much
wider study of what he termed ‘general jurisprudence’: this was to be the exposition
and analysis of the fundamental notions forming the framework of all mature legal
systems. The main part of his full lectures (as said above, they were only published
after his death in 1863) was given to an analysis of what he called ‘pervading
notions’, such as those of right, duty, persons, status, delict and sources of law.
Austin distinguished this general, or analytical, jurisprudence from the criticism of
legal institutions, which he called the ‘science of legislation’; he viewed both the
analytical and the critical exposition as important parts of legal education. He is largely
remembered, however, for the analytical heritage and his critical exposition (largely
influenced by notions of utility) is usually skated over.
3.3.2 Austin and utilitarianism

The young Austin once declared himself to be a disciple of Jeremy Bentham, and
utilitarianism is a continuing clear theme (though Austin was a believer in God and
made utility the index of God’s will or plan for creation, while Bentham was secular)
in the work for which Austin is best known today. Austin interpreted utilitarianism so
that Divine will is equated with utilitarian principles: ‘utility is the index to the law of
God ...To make a promise which general utility condemns, is an offense against the
law of God’ (Austin, 1873: Lecture VI, p. 307; see also Austin, 1995: Lecture II, p. 41). This
reading of utilitarianism has had no long-term influence, though in his nineteenth-
century review of Austin’s Lectures, John Stuart Mill was at pains to say that his work
represented the application of utilitarianism to law and largely ignored the religious
aspects. According to Rumble, most contemporaries saw Austin as a utilitarian and
the young Austin certainly shared many of the ideas of the Benthamite philosophical
radicals; namely notions of progress, rule through knowledge, political economy, as
well as accepting the ideas of Thomas Malthus (see Rumble, 1985, pp.16–17; Morrison,
1997, Chapter 9).
Austin made a lasting impact for at least two reasons.
1. Analytical jurisprudence
Austin argued for an analytical analysis of law† (as contrasted with approaches to law †
There is some evidence that
more grounded in history or sociology, or arguments about law which were secondary Austin’s views later in his life
to more general moral and political theories). Analytical jurisprudence emphasises the may have moved away from
analysis of key concepts, including ‘law’, ‘(legal) right’, ‘(legal) duty’, and ‘legal validity’. analytical jurisprudence
Analytical jurisprudence became the dominant approach in analysing the nature of towards something more
law (see Cotterrell, 2003, for an explanation for this). However (and this is crucial to approximating the historical
acknowledging what his project was to correct the misunderstanding of many jurisprudence school.
commentators), it is important to appreciate that in Austin’s hands analytical (Hamburger, 1985, pp.178–91).
jurisprudence was only one part of an overall project. Many later writers have
confused the aim of being analytical with the notion that this is all one has to say
about law and thus that law is simply what you can formally reduce it to (this idea is
sometimes called ‘legal formalism’, a narrow approach to understanding the role of
law). It is a mistake to see either Austin in particular, or analytical jurisprudence in
general, as opposing a critical and reform-minded effort to understand law and its
social, political and economic effects. The approach to understanding law that is
loosely grouped under the title ‘legal realism’, for example, argued that law could only
be understood in terms of its practical effects (so for example, law was what the courts
actually did …). But realists tended to downplay doctrine and legal categories, seeing
them as irrelevant. By contrast, Austin saw analytical jurisprudence as attaining clarity
as to the categories and concepts of law, as for the morality of law, its effectiveness, its
use and abuse, or its location in historical development …these were different
questions (and clearly also important to understand how to use law as a technique of
rational government!).
2. Legal positivism
Austin tied his analytical method to a systematic exposition of a view of law known
as ‘legal positivism’.(The main competitor to legal positivism, in Austin’s day as in our
own, has been natural law theory. Austin can also be seen as clarifying the study of the
common law from the traditional ideas of timeless sources and other vague notions
he considered mystifications.) Austin, as we have seen in looking at Hobbes, was not
the first writer to say that the law of the legal system of a nation state should be seen
as something ‘posited’ by human judgments or processes, but most of the important
theoretical work on law prior to Austin had treated jurisprudence as though it were
merely a branch of moral theory or political theory: asking how the state should
govern (and when governments were legitimate), and under what circumstances
citizens had an obligation to obey the law. For Austin, however, and for legal positivism
generally, law should be an object of ‘scientific’ study, the identification of something
as law or legally valid was determined neither by prescription nor by moral evaluation;
law was simply law, and its morality was another issue. Austin’s subsequent popularity
among late nineteenth-century English lawyers stemmed in large part from their
desire to approach their profession, and their professional training, in a more serious
and rigorous manner (Cotterrell, 2003, pp.74–77). Legal positivism asserts (or assumes)
that it is both possible and valuable to have a morally neutral descriptive (or perhaps
‘conceptual’, to take Hart’s term) theory of law.
†
It is always a simplification to generalise;† however, it can be maintained that those Remember Austin’s
who adhere to legal positivism do not deny that moral and political criticism of legal famous formulation of the
systems is important; instead they insist that a descriptive or conceptual approach to distinction: ‘The existence of
law is valuable, both on its own terms and as a necessary prelude to criticism. The law is one thing; its merit or
demerit is another. Whether
similarities between Austin and Thomas Hobbes have been stressed, but David Hume,
it be or be not is one enquiry;
with his argument for separating ‘is’ and ‘ought’ (which worked as a sharp criticism for
whether it be or be not
some forms of natural law theory, which purported to derive moral truths from
conformable to an assumed
statements about human nature), should also be mentioned as sharing in the
standard, is a different
intellectual framing of this division. The common theme to Hobbes, Hume, Bentham
enquiry. A law, which actually
and Austin is the demand for clarity of conception and separation of different
exists, is a law, though we
discursive realms.
happen to dislike it, or though
it vary from the text, by which
Summary we regulate our approbation
and disapprobation.’ (Austin
Today we remember Austin for his particular version of legal positivism, his ‘command
1995: Lecture V, p. 157)
theory of law’. However, it should be remembered that he clearly stated that his
theory drew upon Hobbes and Bentham – both of whose theories could also be
characterised as ‘command theory’. Austin’s work was more influential in this area,
partly because Bentham’s jurisprudential writings did not appear in even a roughly
systematic form until well after Austin’s work had already been published (Bentham,
1970, 1996; Cotterrell, 2003, pp.52–53).
3.4 Appreciating Austin’s command theory

Both the common law tradition and natural law theories gave an image of law as
something that was not at the government’s behest to use as the government desired.
Instead law was ‘other’ than governmental power. By contrast, Hobbes, Bentham and
Austin identified (positive) law as the creation of government (the sovereign) and as
part of government’s instruments to achieve (rational, coherent and defendable) rule.
There are always at least two things going on that we can learn from the writers
we have looked at in this chapter. Take Austin: he tried to find out what can be
said generally, while still capturing the basic form, about all laws and this was a
necessary step for those interested in law (and power) to understand the nature
of the instrument that could be used to shape relations in a modern society. Later
commentators have concentrated upon his work as an example of analytical
philosophy and have seen it either as a paradigm or a caricature of the analytical
method. We have seen from the extracted sections that his lectures were dryly full of
distinctions, but are thin in trans-historical argument. To some contemporary critics,
his work is very limited and the modern reader is forced to fill in much of the meta-
theoretical, justificatory work, which cannot be found in the text. But is this a problem
of the text or of our historical appreciation? Austin wrote for an audience; his Lectures
were simply that – lectures – and thus principally orientated to that purpose.
Thus we may appreciate that where

Austin articulated his methodology and objectives he gave them expressions drawing
upon the accepted discourses of the times: he ‘endeavoured to resolve a law (taken
with the largest signification which can be given to that term properly) into the
necessary and essential elements of which it is composed’ (Austin, Lecture V, p. 117).
Austin had been appointed the first professor of law at a body which was
attempting to be called the University of London in 1828. This body, which is now
University College London (the largest College of the Federal University of London),
was founded on secular and utilitarian lines. It was opposed by many, including a
rival King’s College founded in 1828. In this anonymous cartoon of the time, a clutch
of bloated bishops, including the Archbishop of Canterbury, with the added weight
of money and interest, are pitted against Brougham (waving the broom, the
government minister supporting the proposal for the new university) and Bentham
(clad in dressing gown), supported by Sense and Science.
(Image: courtesy of the University of London).
In another cartoon of the time, King’s College was represented as a huge palace
with, however, very small windows, since ‘no new light is required’. Austin
expressly stated his aim was to bring light to the chaos of legal thought.
3.4.1 Austin’s analysis of law

As to what is the core nature of law, Austin’s answer is that laws (‘properly so called’)
are commands of a sovereign; they exist in a relationship of political superiority and
political inferiority. He clarifies the concept of positive law (that is, man-made law) by
analysing the constituent concepts of his definition, and by distinguishing law from
other concepts that are similar:
uu Commands involve an expressed wish that something be done, and ‘an evil’ to be
imposed if that wish is not complied with.
uu Rules are general commands (applying generally to a class), as contrasted with

specific or individual commands.
Positive law consisted of those commands laid down by a sovereign (or its agents), to
be contrasted to other law-givers, such as God’s general commands, or the general
commands of an employer. The ‘sovereign’ was defined as a person (or collection of
persons) who receives habitual obedience from the bulk of the population, but who
does not habitually obey any other (earthly) person or institution. Austin thought
that all independent political societies, by their nature, have a sovereign. Positive
law should also be contrasted with ‘laws by a close analogy’ (which includes positive
morality, laws of honour, international law, customary law, and constitutional law) and
‘laws by remote analogy’ (e.g. the laws of physics) (Austin, Lecture I).
Austin also wanted to include within ‘the province of jurisprudence’ certain

‘exceptions’ – items which did not fit his criteria but should nonetheless be studied
with other ‘laws properly so called’: repealing laws, declarative laws, and ‘imperfect
laws’ (laws prescribing action but without sanctions, a concept Austin ascribes to
‘Roman [law] jurists’) (Austin 1995: Lecture I, p. 36).
In the criteria set out above, Austin succeeded in delimiting law and legal rules from
religion, morality, convention and custom. (These exclusions alone would make
Austin’s theory problematic for most modern readers.) However, also excluded
from ‘the province of jurisprudence’ were customary law (except to the extent
that the sovereign had, directly or indirectly, adopted such customs as law), public
international law and parts of constitutional law.
Within Austin’s approach, whether something is or is not ‘law’ depends on which

people have done what: the question turns on an empirical investigation, and it is
a matter mostly of power, not of morality. Of course, Austin is not arguing that law
should not be moral, nor is he implying that it rarely is. Austin is not playing the nihilist
or the sceptic. He is merely pointing out that there is much that is law that is not
moral, and what makes something law does nothing to guarantee its moral value:
The most pernicious laws, and therefore those which are most opposed to the will of God,
have been and are continually enforced as laws by judicial tribunals. (Austin 1995: Lecture
V, p. 158)
While Bentham was an opponent of judicial lawmaking, Austin had no objection to

it, describing it as ‘highly beneficial and even absolutely necessary’ (Austin, 1995:
Lecture V, p. 163). Austin simply incorporated judicial lawmaking into his command
theory: by characterising that form of lawmaking, along with the occasional legal/
judicial recognition of customs by judges, as the ‘tacit commands’ of the sovereign,
with the sovereign’s affirming the ‘orders’ by its acquiescence (Austin, 1995: Lecture 1,
pp.35–36).
3.4.2 Criticisms of Austin

Many readers come to Austin’s theory mostly through the criticisms made of it by
other writers (Many of the current textbook references to Austin appear to accept
the validity of Hart’s criticisms developed against a model of the imperative theory of
law based on Hart’s reading of Austin and presented in the first four chapters of The
Concept of Law. Both Cotterrell and Morrison, conversely, argue that Hart’s treatment
may be analytically pleasurable, but is based on a abstracted model and not in keeping
with an historical understanding of Austin’s project.). As a result the weaknesses of the
theory are almost better known than the theory itself (many answers to examination
questions on the command theory or the work of John Austin are full of the criticisms
but leave the examiner uncertain as to whether the student knows the theory about
which he or she has just listed the criticisms!).
Some of these criticisms only make sense when we apply an analytical critique to
Austin; thus it is often claimed that in many societies, it is hard to identify a ‘sovereign’
in Austin’s sense of the word (a difficulty Austin dismissed when discussing Mexico,
for example, by saying it was a matter of factual analysis; but we may note that he
had to describe the British ‘sovereign’ rather awkwardly as the combination of the
King, the House of Lords, and all the electors of the House of Commons). In other
places Austin talked even more loosely about using ‘sovereign powers’. Putting the
focus on a ‘sovereign’ as the source of law makes it difficult to explain the continuity
of legal systems: a new ruler will not come in with the kind of ‘habit of obedience’
that Austen sets as a criterion for a system’s rule-maker. However, one could argue
(see Harris, 1977) that the sovereign is best understood as a constructive metaphor:
that law should be viewed as if it reflected the view of a single will (a similar view, that
law should be interpreted as if it derived from a single will, can be found in Ronald
Dworkin’s work (1986)). It is also a common criticism that a ‘command’ model seems
to fit some aspects of law poorly (e.g. rules which grant powers to officials and to
private citizens – of the latter, the rules for making wills, trusts and contracts are
examples), while excluding other matters (e.g. international law) which we are not
inclined to exclude from the category ‘law’. More generally, it seems more distorting
than enlightening to reduce all law to one type. For example, rules that empower
people to make wills and contracts perhaps can be re-characterised as part of a long
chain of reasoning for eventually imposing a sanction (Austin spoke in this context
of the sanction of ‘nullity’) on those who fail to comply with the relevant provisions.
However, such a re-characterisation as this misses the basic purpose of those sorts
of laws – they are arguably about granting power and autonomy, not punishing
wrongdoing.
A powerful criticism is that a theory which portrays law solely in terms of power fails
to distinguish rules of terror from forms of governance sufficiently just that they are
accepted as legitimate by their own citizens. (Austin was aware of some of these lines
of attack, and had responses ready; it is another matter whether his responses were
adequate.) Austin also did not go into a discussion of his methodology; he was rather
concerned to get his message across to his audience. Austin, however, laid out the
structure for modern legal positivism and when Hart revived legal positivism in the
middle of the twentieth century (Hart, 1958, 1994), he did it by criticising and building
on Austin’s theory. In some respects he followed the legal pluralism obvious from
Austin’s first lecture: for example, Hart’s theory did not try to reduce all laws to one
kind of rule, but emphasised the varying types and functions of legal rules. Moreover,
he was still conscious of the varying relationships between individuals and the legal
order, for his theory, grounded partly on the distinction between ‘obligation’ and
‘being obliged’, was built around the fact that some participants within legal systems
‘accepted’ the legal rules as reasons for action, above and beyond the fear of sanctions;
others, however, obeyed because of sanctions or simply habit
There has been something of a revival of interest in Austin’s theoretical claims: the
Canadian Journal of Law and Jurisprudence has published a selection of papers from
a conference on Austin’s work held at University College London in December 2010
under the direction of Professor Michael Freeman, in Volume 24 (2011), from p.411.
¢¢ Schauer, F. ‘Was Austin right after all? On the role of sanctions in a theory of law’
(2010) 23 Ratio Juris 1.
Here, Schauer questions whether the move of modern positivists like Hart and Raz to
sideline the imposition of sanctions for breaches of the law, as merely ‘contingent’
features of the law, has been the theoretical success it is often taken to be.
¢¢ Halpin, A. ‘Austin’s methodology? His bequest to jurisprudence’ (2011) 70(1) CLJ

175–202.
Turning to methodology, Andrew Halpin argues that Austin may be partly responsible
for the fact that different ways of addressing the question of law are disengaged from
each other (and why legal theory is largely disengaged from practice). Nevertheless,
Halpin argues that Austin did not bring about this disengagement axiomatically but
rather by building on intuitions that everyone could accept but were still open to
contestation at that initial stage. His strategy therefore leaves open the possibility of
engagement.
3.4.3 A contemporary view?

Austin’s work was highly fashionable in the late nineteenth century and for part of
the twentieth. Then came a period of deprecation. Today he is reassessed. Put in his
historical context, Austin can be seen as all too trusting of centralised power and
his writing as a strange mixture of analyticism and realism. Certainly Austin kept
the political nature of law and the connection of law and power at the centre of his
analysis. When circumstances seem to warrant a more critical, sceptical or cynical
approach to law and government, Austin’s equation of law and force will be attractive,
as with Yntema, who simply stated in 1928 (at p. 476): ‘The ideal of a government
of law and not of men is a dream.’ Such a reading may today be from Austin’s own
mixture of liberal/conservative-utilitarian views at the time of his writing, and his even
more conservative political views later in his life. In our contemporary times, as we see
the failed states of Iraq and various other nations, the message of Hobbes that security
comes before all else is treated as a common-place. Whether law could be used as a
rational instrument of government is another matter.

uu adopt an effective approach to reading original extracts from key writers
uu critically discuss the emergence and core meaning of legal positivism
uu discuss the advantages and disadvantages of a theory of law based on the idea of
the commands of the sovereign
uu analyse the social and political context in which Austin wrote and how Hart has
interpreted his project.

Question 1 Has Austin’s theory contributed to our understanding of law?
Question 2 What are the advantages and disadvantages of seeing law as a set of
commands?
References
¢¢ Austin, J. The province of jurisprudence determined, 1832 (other editions, e.g. H.L.A.
Hart, 1954, also 1995).
¢¢ Austin, J. Lectures on jurisprudence or the philosophy of positive law. Edited by

Robert Cambell. 2 vols. (1863; fifth edition, 1885).
¢¢ Cotterrell, R. The politics of jurisprudence. (London: Butterworths Law, 2003)

second edition.
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Law’s empire. (London: Fontana Paperbacks, 1986).
¢¢ Hamburger, L. and J. Hamburger Troubled lives: John and Sara Austin. (Toronto:
University of Toronto Press, 1985).
¢¢ Harris, J. Legal philosophies. (London: Butterworths, 1997) second edition.

Cavendish, 1997).
¢¢ Rumble, W. The thought of John Austin: jurisprudence, colonial reform and the
British constitution. (London: The Athlone Press, 1985).
¢¢ Yntema, H ‘The hornbook method and the conflict of laws’, Yale Law Journal 37,
1928.
Reflect and review



I can adopt an effective approach to reading original

extracts from key writers.   
I can critically discuss the emergence and core meaning

of legal positivism.   
I can discuss the advantages and disadvantages of a

theory of law based on the idea of the commands of the
sovereign.   
I can analyse the social and political context in which

Austin wrote and how Hart has interpreted his project.   
revise?
Must Revision
revise done
3.1 The birth and development of secular or ‘positive’

theories of law: the case of Thomas Hobbes  
3.2 Jeremy Bentham  
3.3 John Austin  
3.4 Appreciating Austin’s command theory  

4 Classical and modern natural law theory
Contents
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52
4.1 The rise of natural law in ancient Greece and Rome† . . . . . . . . . . . 53
4.2 The natural law of Aquinas:† structure . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55
4.3 The natural law of Aquinas: legal reason, human law, and the
obligation to obey the law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56
4.4 Modern natural law theory I: Finnis† . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58
4.5 Modern natural law theory II: Fuller . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60
4.6 The continuing debate over the connection between law and morality . 61

Introduction
From the time of the ancient Greeks up until the sixteenth or seventeenth centuries,
there really was only one kind of ‘legal theory’ – natural law. The essence of this legal
theory was that the law must be understood as a practical application of morality;
hence law and morality are intimately connected. Accordingly, much of natural law
theory sought to show how legal authorities such as princes, states, and so on, could
lay down laws which reflected the true dictates of morality, and were, therefore,
just. Why is natural law no longer the only theory of law? In a word, the answer is
positivism. Legal positivists deny that the law is simply a matter of ‘applied’ morality.
Positivists note that many legal systems are wicked, and that what is really required
by morality is controversial. For example, some people view a woman’s right to have
an abortion as an essential human right, while others think of it as tantamount to a
right to murder. Yet the law carries on, laying down rules for behaviour, even when the
rules are immoral, or when no one can demonstrate to the satisfaction of all whether
a rule is moral or not. What positivists conclude from this is that the law is a kind of
social technology which regulates the behaviour of its subjects and resolves conflicts
between them. The law has no necessary moral character.
The philosophy of law, then, according to positivists, is the philosophy of a particular

social institution, not a branch of moral or ethical philosophy. In working through
this chapter, you must always bear in mind this positivist challenge, and ask yourself
whether natural law theory is capable of responding to positivism while keeping its
character as a plausible moral philosophy.
Learning outcomes
By the end of this chapter and the relevant readings you should be able to:
uu describe the origins of natural law in ancient Greece and Rome and the basic
ideas which inform the natural law tradition
uu explain the natural law theory of Aquinas, in particular the relation of natural
law to divine law and human law, and the importance of the distinction between
specificatio and determinatio in the generation of law
uu explain Finnis’s modern natural law theory, in particular his employment of the
‘focal meaning’ or ‘central case’ to determine the subject matter of legal theory,
his reference to self-evident basic values, and his characterisation of practical
reason
uu explain in detail Fuller’s ‘inner morality of law’
uu critically assess these various versions of natural law theory in light of the attack
on natural law by legal positivists.
Essential reading
Either of the following:
¢¢ Penner et al., Chapter 2: ‘The evolution of natural law’.
¢¢ Freeman, Chapter 3: ‘Natural law’.

Jurisprudence and legal theory 4 Classical and modern natural law theory page 53
4.1 The rise of natural law in ancient Greece and Rome† †

This passage uses ‘man’,
‘his’ and ‘he’ as they would
The term ‘natural law’ is misleading, for it sounds as if it denotes some kind of theory have been used by earlier
of the law, a ‘natural’ one, whatever that is. It does not. Originally, ‘natural law’ was a writers on natural law. Today
general moral theory which explained the nature of morality, not the nature of law we would want to emphasise
per se. The basic idea was that man, using his reason, and possibly with the help of the that the human race is not
revelation of the gods or God, could come to understand how he should act rightly in exclusively male, and would
respect of his fellow man. This morality of reason and revelation was a morality which probably say: ‘The basic idea
was that human beings,
purported to take account of man’s nature, hence the title ‘natural’. And because this
using their reason, and
combination of revelation and reason laid down rules for behaviour, the word ‘law’
possibly with the help of the
seemed appropriate, hence ‘natural law’. Natural law, then, is principally a theory of
revelation of the gods or God,
morality in general, not a theory of law.
could come to understand
But part of the project of acting rightly, of course, was the project of rulers who laid how they should act rightly
down law for their subjects, and so the claims of natural law morality applied just as in respect of their fellow
much to them as to individuals generally. So a part of natural law (obviously a very humans.’ However, it must
important part) explained what it was to rule and legislate and judge cases rightly; so be noted that sometimes
part of natural law was the morality of ‘law’, narrowly construed as the laws passed by classical natural lawyers do
legislation and the legal system of courts, judges, and so on. Nowadays, ‘natural law’ not intend to include women
is generally taken to mean only that part of the original moral theory which explains when they use the word
the way that the law, narrowly construed, operates as part of the broader moral life ‘man’. For an analysis, see, for
example, Okin, S.M. Women
of human beings. (As we shall see, however, the most important living natural lawyer,
in western political thought
John Finnis, emphasises that the philosophy of law is continuous with general moral
(Princeton University Press,
or ethical philosophy.) That narrowing of focus has to do with the way in which the
1979).
nature of morality as explained by natural law theory was drawn upon to justify
existing legal authorities.
It has been argued that in small, close-knit, primitive societies, the inhabitants make
no distinction between what is morally right and the way they think it right to do
things. They do not stand outside their own practices, looking at them from an
external standpoint to judge whether they are correct or not; rather, they just ‘do
what comes naturally’, typically treating their rules as timeless and revealed and
enforced by the gods. In short, they lack a critical perspective on the standards of
behaviour they uphold. Whatever the truth of this quasi-anthropological assertion,
it is clear that when different cultures come into contact and are forced to live with
each other, a clash of customs will almost certainly occur. The philosophical tradition
that began with Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, and the Stoics, and was carried via Rome
throughout the West, was faced with this sort of conflict, as the different city states
and empires sought to provide workable rules which might govern everyone within
their jurisdictions. This philosophical tradition made one of its central questions ‘How
ought a man to live?’, and the answer was sought not in the particular customs or
practices of particular cultures, but in our common nature.
The obvious advantage of this approach was that, if successful, all subjects of the state
or empire could appreciate the resulting rule of behaviour as appropriate to each of
them, rather than constituting the imposition of odd and foreign practices against
which they would naturally rebel. Different philosophers adopted different ways of
explaining the common nature of man which might deliver a common morality. Very
briefly and roughly, Plato believed that those who were properly philosophically
instructed might come to grasp – perhaps always imperfectly – the true form or idea of
‘justice’, and other absolute values. For Aristotle, it was essential to understand man’s †
Stoics: an ancient Greek
telos (goal, or purpose), which reflected his nature; in particular, Aristotle thought that school of philosophers who
man was social, political, and sought knowledge, and only when in a position to fulfil believed, among other things,
these aspects of his nature could men flourish and achieve the ‘good life’. The Stoics† that the mind is a ‘blank
accorded primacy to man’s reason – by reason man could determine those precepts of slate’, upon which sense-
right conduct which transcended particular cultures, and therefore were universally impressions are inscribed. It
applicable. The ‘law on the books’ that most directly resulted from this intellectual may have a certain activity
activity was the jus gentium, which started life as a second class legal order, a of its own, but this activity
stripped-down Roman civil law which applied to foreigners, but which came to be is confined exclusively to
regarded as a higher or superior legal order, in some sense akin to international law, a materials supplied by the
kind of common law of citizens which applied throughout the Roman Empire. physical organs of sense.
The single most important theoretical issue which this philosophical tradition
generated, and which forms the core issue of the natural law tradition today, is how
this critical, universalistic perspective is properly to be employed to judge the laws
of any particular society. In its most extreme form, one can adopt the Latin maxim
lex injusta non est lex, i.e. an unjust law (unjust, that is, according to the principles of
morality, i.e. natural law) does not count as a law, is not a law. Thus if the legislature
passed a statute that required everyone to kill their first-born, then such a statute
would not have the force of law at all. Notice this point very carefully: the claim is
not that such a statute would provide a very wicked law, but that even though it was
validly passed, the statute would provide no law at all, just because the content of the
statute was so at odds with morality, i.e. with natural law.
This most extreme version of the force of natural law theory has been a primary target
of positivists; for the positivist, such a statute, assuming it was validly passed, would
provide for a perfectly valid law, wicked though it was. One might be morally obliged
to disobey such a law, but it would be a law just the same. In just this way, says the
positivist, the dictates of morality can be distinguished from the dictates of the law. In
the face of this criticism, very few natural lawyers defend the connection of morality
and law as being quite so intimate as this. One of this chapter’s tasks is to critically
examine the different ways in which natural law theorists explain the connection
between law and morality. But notice straight away that you are not a natural lawyer
simply because you believe you can criticise the law for being out of step with
morality. Everyone believes that. It is a common exam mistake to state something
silly along the lines that ‘only natural lawyers judge the law by moral standards’. This
is nonsense. Legal positivists, in particular, are happy to criticise immoral laws. They
simply do not deny that an immoral law is a law. The arch-positivist of the modern
era, Jeremy Bentham, was a dedicated social reformer who forcefully attacked the
laws of England throughout his life. In doing so, however, he attacked them as bad
laws, and did not claim that they were non-laws because they were bad. The principal
task of natural lawyers, since the rise of legal positivism, has been to show a more
plausible connection between law and morality. This would need to be a more robust
connection than simply saying that one can criticise the law for being immoral.
Self-assessment questions
1. What is natural law a theory of?
2. Why is natural law called ‘natural law’?
3. Why does natural law theory pay attention to the law of particular states?
4. What is the jus gentium, and why is it related to the rise of natural law?
5. What does ‘lex injusta non est lex’ mean? Why is this statement regarded as an
extreme expression of natural law?
Activity 4.1
†
Read either the excerpt from Cicero† in Penner et al., pp.46–50, or the excerpt from Cicero: Marcus Tullius Cicero,
Cicero in Freeman, Chapter 3: ‘Natural law’, and answer the following: Roman statesman, orator and
philosopher, 106–43 BC.
Cicero says: ‘And it is not only justice and injustice that are distinguished naturally,
but in general all honourable and disgraceful acts. For nature has given us shared
conceptions and has so established them in our minds that honourable things are
classed with virtue, disgraceful ones with vice. To think that these things are a mere
matter of opinion, not fixed in nature, is the mark of a madman.’ He also says, ‘And
there will not be different laws at Rome and at Athens, or different laws now and in
the future, but one eternal and unchangeable law will be valid for all nations and all
times, and there will be one master and ruler, that is, God, over all of us, for he is the
author of this law, its promulgator, and its enforcing judge. Whoever is disobedient
is fleeing from himself and denying his human nature, and by reason of this
very fact he will suffer the worst penalties, even if he escapes what is commonly
considered punishment.’
Are all the ideas Cicero puts forward in these passages about the nature of natural
law consistent with each other?
Summary
The natural law tradition arose as the application of a theory of morality which
emphasised man’s common moral nature to the legitimacy of states. The question of
the legitimacy of states and their laws became politically important when empires
sought to rule over different peoples with different customs, and so natural law
seemed ideally placed to provide a universal standard of justice. Different natural law
theories arose, however, which did not agree on what the universal basis of morality
was; some emphasised human beings’ intellect or reason, others their purpose, others
revelation of God’s will.

uu describe the origins of natural law in ancient Greece and Rome and the basic
ideas which inform the natural law tradition.
4.2 The natural law of Aquinas:† structure †

Aquinas: St Thomas
Aquinas (1225–1274) Italian-
While the divine was considered by the ancients to be a source of understanding of born Christian (Catholic)
morality, a brief review of the rough descriptions of Plato’s, Aristotle’s and the Stoic’s theologian and philosopher.
theories of natural law given above shows that God was not an obvious central figure
in the equation. Following the Christianisation of the Roman Empire, however, a
theory of morality could no longer make reference to God’s word solely as a rhetorical
gesture. It took the genius of Thomas Aquinas to reconstruct the classical natural law
tradition of the Greeks and Romans within Christian theology. The central idea is that
the grace of God was held not to conflict with or abolish man’s nature, but to perfect
it, and in this way a Christianised version of natural law could be seen to continue or
bring to fruition the natural law tradition. Aquinas modified Aristotle’s teleological
perspective so that man’s end was not only to live socially and seek knowledge, but
to live in a Christian community in which one would come to know, and presumable
adore, God. Most importantly, however, he described orders of law, eternal, divine,
natural and human law, which purported to show the way in which human reason
was able to appreciate what was good and godly – according to Aquinas, man, by his
reason, was able to participate in the moral order of nature designed by God. The
orders of law were as follows:
Eternal law: The whole universe is governed by divine providence or divine reason,
which is the ultimate order imposed by the Creator.
Natural law: Humans are special creatures in having a special relationship to divine
wisdom or providence, in that since they possess reason and free will, they have a
‘share’ in this divine wisdom themselves. This participation of man in the ordering of
his affairs by reason is participation in the rational order ordained by God, and this is
natural law.
Human law: Human law consists of those particular rules and regulations that
man, using his reason, deduces from the general precepts of natural law to deal
with particular matters. For example, it is a natural law precept that crimes must
be punished with a severity that corresponds with the seriousness of a crime, but it
is necessary to specify the actual punishment that, say, a thief will receive under a
particular legal system, and the use of reason to provide a punishment of, say, two
years is the use of reason called ‘human law’. This might also be called ‘positive’ law, as
it is the actual law posited by legal institutions.
Finally, there is Divine law: This is the law that is revealed by God to man, more or less
directly, through the provision of the ten commandments or through scripture more
generally, or via the divinely inspired pronouncements of prophets or the Church
fathers or the pope. Divine law most directly concerns man in his relation to God and
achieving paradise; it lays down how man is to act in relation to God (in terms of the
requirement to take part in rituals such as baptism and Holy Communion, and in
forswearing† other gods or idols, for example) and furthermore covers those matters †
Forswearing (from verb
of the soul which human institutions are unfit to regulate, such as evil thoughts, which ‘forswear’) = agreeing to have
are nevertheless of vital importance to a man’s relationship with God. Though much of nothing to do with.
divine law would be Church or Canon Law, to the extent that religious law was also
enforced by secular authorities like city states or princes (for example laws against
usury or blasphemy or witchcraft), divine law could be instantiated in secular law as
well. Furthermore, there is an overlap between this law of revelation and natural law,
in such matters as are covered by, for example, the Ten Commandments, where the
prohibitions against murder, theft, bearing false witness, and so on, are declared by
divine law but can also be appreciated as natural law precepts as well.
1. According to Aquinas, what is man’s telos? How does it differ from what Aristotle
viewed as man’s telos?
2. What are the different orders of law in Aquinas’s scheme? In what ways do they
interact or overlap?
Activity 4.2
Consider the criminal law of rape, the law of wills, and the law of taxation. What
order(s) of law under the Aquinean scheme do these belong to, and why?
4.3 The natural law of Aquinas: legal reason, human law, and
the obligation to obey the law
We have seen from the preceding that, according to Aquinas, law arises from man’s
participation, via his reason, in the divine wisdom of God. Sometimes human law is
simply a deductive conclusion from the general precepts of natural law. But there
is a second way in which human law is created in accordance with natural law, and
Aquinas exploits the analogy of the architect to explain this. In order to build a house,
one starts with the general idea of a house – that it has rooms, doorways, windows and
so on – so that there are, as it were, ‘natural law’ precepts or requirements of house
building. However, the idea of a house does not tell the architect whether the doors
must be two metres high, how many rooms and so on. The natural law precepts of
house building will require that the doorways must be more than 30 cm high, for a
doorway this low would not be functional. But no specific workable height is specified
by the mere idea of a house; this specification needs to be done by the architect and,
in the same way, while natural law requires that thieves be punished, the natural law
does not specify what the particular punishment should be, so long as its severity
corresponds in some sense or degree to the seriousness of theft. Aquinas rendered
this distinction in Latin: what the natural law lays down – or can be deduced from it
by reason alone – is specificatio, or specified. What man must practically decide about,
compatibly with the natural law but not by deduction from it, such as the proper
punishment for theft, is a matter of determinatio, determination within the boundaries
set by natural law.
Human law also has particular tasks and limits which natural law – the general
precepts of morality – does not. While some subjects of the law are naturally inclined
to be virtuous, others are of more evil or selfish disposition – which we might perhaps
all be in certain moods or times of our life. Thus the law must exert not only a guiding
but a disciplinary force to deal with the latter sort of person. The human law must also
be general, applying to all subjects, though laws applying to children and perhaps
others with limited rational capacity may justifiably differ. The human law cannot
be a counsel of perfection; it should attend to the more serious matters of human
conduct, and not try to prohibit every vice or insist on every virtue: its task is to
ensure a framework of rules which provide for a human community that is capable of
flourishing – not to create heaven on earth.
Furthermore, since humans are granted only limited reason and insight, human law
cannot be treated merely as the laying down and enforcement of rules. There will
always be exceptional cases in which a departure from the strict rule will be justified,
and human judges must maintain and nurture this sense of ‘equity’ in the face of the
rules.
Because the human law is a particularisation or determination of concrete rules and

principles, which while they must be in keeping with the natural law, are not fully
specified by it, the human law is mutable, and will be different in different times and
places. Despite this mutable character, it is unwise, according to Aquinas, to change
the human laws too often or too radically, even if within the confines of natural law,
for custom is important, and the more laws change, the less legitimacy they appear to
have; and consequently the proper coercive power of the law is diminished. The law
should only be changed if the benefits clearly outweigh these drawbacks.
According to Aquinas, a law only ‘obliges in conscience’ to the extent that it is in

keeping with the natural law. An unjust law has more the character of violence
than of law. Yet Aquinas does not draw from this the conclusion that an unjust law
is not a law – it continues to partake of the character of law in its form, and in this
sense participates in the order of law at least in this minimal way. One must always
remember that the law is, from the moral point of view, a necessary human institution
of communal practical reason. Every person has the duty to support, and to act so as to
foster, conditions for its success. Thus the fact that a law is unjust does not provide one
with an absolute licence to disobey it; one must take into account the consequences
of one’s obedience for the general project of law – disobedience might, for example,
generate a willingness amongst people to disobey the law for selfish reasons, or make
it more difficult for just laws to be administered, and so on.
1. What are the two ways in which the natural law is a source of human law?
2. Explain the difference between specificatio and determinatio.
3. What particular tasks and limitations does human law have?
4. What is Aquinas’s view on the moral obligation to obey the human law?
Activity 4.3
Read either the excerpt from Aquinas in Penner et al., pp.50–65, or the excerpt from
Aquinas in Freeman, Chapter 2: ‘Natural law’, and answer the following:
What are the strengths and weaknesses of Aquinas’s theory of the law?
Summary
Aquinas married Aristotle’s natural law theory with the Christian tradition to develop
the most refined theory of natural law before the twentieth century, and his work
is a fundamental reference point for all natural law theorists. Acquinas’s natural law
theory shows man, because of his reason, to be a participant in divine wisdom, whose
purpose is to live in a flourishing Christian community. Law is a necessary institution
in such a community, and just laws will reflect directly (specificatio) or indirectly
(determinatio) the universal morality of natural law.

uu explain the natural law theory of Aquinas, in particular the relation of natural
law to divine law and human law, and the importance of the distinction between
specificatio and determinatio in the generation of law.
4.4 Modern natural law theory I: Finnis† †

You may also find it useful
to read Hart’s introduction
Modern natural law theory is an attempt to sustain the natural law theorist’s project to the ideas of natural law in
of exposing and emphasising the importance of the connections between law and Chapter 8 of his Concept of
morality, but which has had to face squarely the objections of legal positivists. John Law.
Finnis, the most important contemporary natural law theorist, was a student of H.L.A.
Hart’s, and one of the strengths of his natural law theory is its respect for the insights
of positivism. He ultimately concludes, however, that positivism is at best a partial, and
at worst, a fundamentally flawed, theory of law.
4.4.1 Finnis’s ethical theory

Two major arguments against natural law theory must be addressed by any modern
natural law theorist. The first is moral scepticism. ‘Realists’ about morality believe
that moral values and principles exist, and ‘cognitivists’ about morality believe
that humans can come to know what these moral values and principles are, so that
statements about what is morally right can be judged to be true or false. Moral
sceptics of various kinds deny either or both of these views. Emotivists of various
kinds, for example, believe that what we call our moral beliefs are ultimately just
expressions of our emotional attitudes. As an example of a modern positivist who
clearly doubted that there were universally valid, objective moral norms that humans
could know the truth of, one can cite Kelsen (see Chapter 10). Moral scepticism has
itself been attacked as incoherent or nonsensical, but the debate remains a live
one. Clearly, if moral scepticism is right, then natural law theory is hopeless, for
there would be no objective moral standards that could connect with the law. You
should remain aware of this issue, in part because it is a necessary backdrop for
understanding Finnis’s moral theory, but more generally to understand the broader
kind of philosophical challenge that a natural law theory might face. It is well beyond
the scope of this course to study in detail the arguments of moral sceptics and their
respondents.
The second argument concerns the way in which we might know what morality
requires. You may have heard of the fact/value distinction, which is akin to the
distinction between description and prescription, or the factual and the normative.
The fact/value distinction is the distinction between statements which describe some
aspect of reality, e.g. ‘Elizabeth II is Queen of England’, and statements which evaluate
some aspect of reality, or prescribe some behaviour, e.g. ‘Killing the innocent is wrong’
or ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you’. The leading philosopher of
the Scottish Enlightenment, David Hume (1711–1776), famously pointed out that one
cannot validly infer or derive evaluative propositions from factual ones; the point is
typically put thus, ‘One cannot derive an “ought” from an “is”.’
Thus it is fallacious (though unfortunately not uncommon) for people to reason like
this: ‘Because of their biology, women can bear children; therefore, women ought to
bear children, and it is morally good that they do so, and immoral for them to avoid
having children.’ It is fallacious to reason from a description of women (that they
have the capacity to bear children) to the moral principle that they ought to bear
children. (G. E. Moore called this fallacy the ‘naturalistic fallacy’.) How does this bear
on natural law theory? You will have noticed that one of the principal organising ideas
of natural law theory is that it looks to the nature of man, or certain aspects of his
nature, e.g. that he is social, or that he has reason, or that he can know God. These are
all descriptions of man, albeit intended to be more or less ultimate descriptions of his
essential nature. But from these characterisations of man, we are supposed to derive
moral principles by which man should guide his life. But this reasoning, as we have
just seen, is fallacious. To say that man is rational is one thing; it is an entirely different
matter to decide whether acting morally amounts to acting rationally. That God says
to do so and so is one thing; it is another to decide whether one ought to obey God.
The argument, then, is that the natural law tradition is founded on the fallacy of
deriving ought from is, and it is not obvious how this argument can be countered.
John Finnis tackles this issue head-on, denying that the natural law tradition (especially
as it is represented by Aquinas) is founded on the derivation of ‘ought’ from ‘is’. Rather,
he says, natural law theory is founded on man’s ability to grasp values directly, not
inferring them from the facts of the world. According to Finnis, there are basic values
that underlie the human appreciation of the value of any particular thing and all man’s
purposive activities. As presented in his first major work on the topic, Natural law
and natural rights, originally published in 1980, these values are life, knowledge, play,
aesthetic experience, friendship, religion (not in the sense of any particular religion,
but in the value of seeking to understand man’s place in the universe), and practical
reasonableness (the value of pursuing the other values in a reasonable fashion). These
seven values are not inferred from facts about the world or man, but are appreciated
directly by humans as valuing beings. While Finnis admits that there can be debates
about the list of basic values, he is insistent that the basic values are irredeemably
plural and ‘incommensurable’, that is, the good of one cannot be directly measured
against the good of another on some common scale. Thus it is not the case that if
one is presented an opportunity to play or enhance one’s knowledge, one could
detect that one had an opportunity to get seven units of play but only five units of
knowledge, and so decide to play. Choosing to pursue one value rather than another
is not a simple process of this kind. Furthermore, the seven basic values are not mere
manifestations of some more basic or master value, such as pleasure, or utility.
1. What is moral scepticism? Why does it undermine natural law theory?
2. What is the ‘naturalistic’ fallacy? Why does it undermine natural law theory?
3. What is Finnis’s response to the claim that natural law derives ought from is?
4. What are the basic values that Finnis describes? Can they be reduced to some
more fundamental value?
4.4.2 Finnis’s natural law theory of law and the criticism of positivism
The essential claim that Finnis makes about the law is that it is a social institution
whose purpose is to regulate the affairs of people and thus contribute to the creation
of a community in which all people can flourish, i.e. a community in which everyone
can realise the seven different basic values. In this way, the law is a moral project.
Therefore, in order to rightly describe the law, one must take the position of a person
who examines the law with this person in mind (i.e. the practically reasonable
person who grasps the seven basic values and the law’s purpose in helping people to
realise them). This provides a clear connection between moral philosophy and legal
philosophy. Whether one’s description of law is correct or not will (in part, but very
significantly) depend upon whether one’s moral views are correct, for one’s moral
views will inform the way in which one conceives of the project of law. In this way,
Finnis denies that positivism provides a full or accurate picture of law. While Finnis
welcomes the insights into the nature of law that have originated with positivists,
in particular the positivism of H.L.A. Hart, he denies that these insights provide a
sufficient theory of law.
Activity 4.4
Read either the excerpts from Finnis in Penner et al., pp.68–71, or in Freeman,
Chapter 2: ‘Natural law’, 151ff. and answer the following question:
What does Finnis mean by the ‘focal’ concept of law, and why does he not intend to
explain our ‘ordinary’ concept of law?

uu explain Finnis’s modern natural law theory, in particular his employment of the
‘focal meaning’ or ‘central case’ to determine the subject matter of legal theory,
his reference to self-evident basic values, and his characterisation of practical
reason.
4.5 Modern natural law theory II: Fuller

Unlike Finnis, Fuller did not aim to produce a morality of law on the basis of a general
moral theory in keeping with the ancient natural law traditions; rather, he sought to
explain the moral content in the idea of ‘the rule of law’, i.e. governance by rules and
judicial institutions as opposed to other sorts of political decision-making or ordering,
such as military command or bureaucratic administration. The morality he describes
is morality as ‘legality’, meaning morally sound aspects of governing by rules. For this
reason, Fuller is often credited with devising a ‘procedural’ natural law theory, in that
he does not focus on the substantive content of legal rules and assess them as to
whether they are moral or not, but rather concerns himself with the requirements of
just law-making and administration.
Activity 4.5
Read the excerpt from Fuller either in Penner et al., pp.74–83, or in Freeman,
Chapter 2: ‘Natural law’, and answer the following questions:
a. What are the eight principles of the morality of law, according to Fuller?
b. Do they, in your opinion, capture the morality of the law?
c. What do you make of Hart’s criticism (Hart, H.L.A. Essays in jurisprudence and
philosophy. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1983), p. 350) that Fuller’s ‘principles
of legality’ ‘perpetrate a confusion between two notions it is vital to hold
apart: the notions of purposive activity and morality. Poisoning is no doubt
a purposive activity, and reflections on its purpose may show that it has its
internal principles. (“Avoid poisons however lethal if they cause the victim to
vomit”, or “Avoid poisons however lethal if their shape, color, or size, is likely to
attract notice.”) But to call these principles of the poisoner’s art “the morality of
poisoning” would simply blur the distinction between the notion of efficiency
for a purpose and those final judgments about activities and purposes with
which morality in its various forms is concerned.’
Summary
Finnis’s natural law theory is based on the direct appreciation of self-evidently valuable
basic goods – the purpose of law is to provide conditions in which these goods can be
realised. His theory is Aquinean in the sense that he follows Aquinas’s general theory
as regards the specificatio/determinatio distinction and its general outlook on attitude
subjects must take to unjust laws. Fuller’s natural law theory is concerned to vindicate
the notion of ‘legality’ or the rule of law, to provide a sense in which rule by law, as
opposed to executive fiat or administration, is distinctive in a morally significant way.
4.6 The continuing debate over the connection between law

and morality
Although working through this chapter will provide you with the basic ideas which
underlie natural law thought, the question of the connection between law and
morality is a vast one, and perhaps in the Western philosophical tradition, the most
important and deeply contested question there is. Thus you should bear in mind this
question as you work through the succeeding chapters. Next you will study the legal
philosophy of H.L.A. Hart, who, though a positivist, was always sensitive to the natural
lawyer’s claims, and again and again addressed the different connections he saw
between morality and law. Similarly, when you pass to the work of Ronald Dworkin,
you will examine the work of a theorist, who, like natural lawyers, sees an intimate
connection between morality and law, although from a quite different perspective.
Dworkin believes that his theory refutes positivism, in part for its failure to account
for the role moral theory plays when judges decide cases. There is, finally, a massive
literature on this subject, and while we have looked at Finnis’s work in detail, there are
also modern natural lawyers of different kinds, such as Michael Moore, who deserve
attention if you want to read more widely.
¢¢ Murphy, M. Natural law in jurisprudence and politics. (Cambridge: Cambridge

takes an original approach to the central issues of modern natural law theory, offering
an interesting alternative to the work of Finnis. Those interested in pursuing a deeper
understanding of Finnis’s natural law theory should consult the combined Issues 3 and
4 of Volume 13 (2007) of Legal Theory, a special issue devoted to papers on Finnis’s work
and concluding with a reply by Finnis.
¢¢ Gardner, J. ‘Nearly natural law’ (2007) 52 American Journal of Law and

Jurisprudence 1.
Gardner provides an exclusive positivist’s perspective on the questions natural law

theory raises. As preliminary reading one should look at the now classic:
¢¢ Gardner, J. ‘Legal positivism: 5½ myths’ (2001) 46 American Journal of Law and

Jurisprudence 199.
Not explicitly placed in the natural law tradition, though it relies extensively on
Aquinas’ thought, is the following, rather more demanding, book by Veronica
Rodriguez-Blanco:
¢¢ Rodriguez-Blanco, V. Law and authority under the guise of the good. (Oxford: Hart
Publishing, 2014) [ISBN 9781849464499].
The book argues that we can understand the nature of legal authority and normativity
if we understand both how agents exercise their practical reason under legal
directives and commands and how the agent engages their practical reason by
following legal rules grounded on reasons for actions as good-making characteristics.
This will also allow us to draw distinctions between truly normative legal systems and
only seeming, non-genuine ones.
Oxford University Press has issued a second edition of:
¢¢ Finnis, J. Natural law and natural rights. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011)
[ISBN 9780199599141]
as well as:
¢¢ Finnis, J. The collected essays of John Finnis Volumes 1–4. (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2011).
Of Finnis’s most recent work, his:
¢¢ ‘Ground of law and legal theory: a response’ (2007) 13 Legal Theory 315
provides his most recent general treatment of his overall perspective on questions in
the philosophy of law.

uu explain in detail Fuller’s ‘inner morality of law’
uu critically assess these various versions of natural law theory in light of the attack
on natural law by legal positivists.
Further reading
¢¢ Coleman, J. and Shapiro, S. (eds) Oxford handbook of jurisprudence and the
philosophy of law. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002) Chapter 1: (John Finnis),
‘Natural law: the classical tradition’, and Chapter 2: (Brian Bix), ‘Natural law: the
modern tradition’.
¢¢ George, R. (ed.) Natural law theory: contemporary essays. (Oxford: Clarendon

Press, 1992) (which includes M. Moore’s, ‘Law as a functional kind’, at
pp.188–242).
¢¢ Hart, H.L.A. The concept of law. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2012) third edition
Chapter VIII, ‘Justice and morality’, and Chapter IX, ‘Laws and morals’.
¢¢ Hart, H.L.A. Essays in jurisprudence and philosophy. (Oxford, Clarendon Press,

1983) Chapter 2: ‘Positivism and the separation of law and morals’, and Chapter
16: ‘Lon L. Fuller: The morality of law’.
¢¢ Finnis, J. Natural law and natural rights. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2011) second
edition.
¢¢ Fuller, L. L. The morality of law. (revised edition) (New Haven: Yale University
Press, 1969).
¢¢ Morrison, W. Jurisprudence from the Greeks to post-modernism. (London:

Cavendish, 1997) Chapter 2: ‘Origins: Classical Greece and the idea of natural
law’, and Chapter 3: ‘The laws of nature, man’s power, and God: the synthesis of
mediaeval Christendom’.
¢¢ Shiner, R. Norm and nature: movements of legal thought. (Oxford: Clarendon

Press, 1992).

Question 1 Why is natural law sometimes historically associated with
revolutionary movements, and sometimes with social conservatism? Does this
varying association detract from its plausibility as a theory of law?
Question 2 Besides its undoubted relevance to the history of legal thought, does
natural law theory matter any more?

Question 1 This question concerns the way in which, under traditional natural law
theory, natural law is regarded as a ‘higher’ law by which positive law is to be judged.
Since the natural law is the true dictate of morality, what any person regards as
ultimately morally right will provide the content of the natural law, and this vantage
point of criticism is available equally to the revolutionary and the conservative.
Because of this, the content of natural law will be as controversial as morality is. In one
respect, this is just as it should be, for if morality is controversial, so should the content
of natural law be; but on the other hand, it does seem to detract from plausibility of
natural law’s claim that law is intimately connected to morality. For the law seems to
be settled at any one time in a way that morality is not, and this would suggest that
the connection, if any, is a weak one, and a positivist might claim, as Hart did, that
any legal system need only give effect to a minimum content of natural law. In other
words, the law must respect basic human nature in so far as it fosters human survival
with laws against murder, theft, and so on; but beyond that, it is not determined
by morality at all. Much can also be said here about Finnis’s and Fuller’s natural law
positions. Finnis tries to render the connection between morality and law in a much
more nuanced fashion, which aims to preserve natural law’s critical perspective, while
giving little comfort to the revolutionary who fails to see the inherent moral project
of the law and would seek to overthrow legal structures per se. Similarly, the appeal of
Fuller’s natural law theory, focusing as it does on process rather than content, would
not oscillate so dramatically between reform and conservatism over time.
Question 2 This question requires an exploration of the contemporary relevance

of natural law theory, in particular the natural law theories of Finnis and Fuller,
and of people like Moore and George, if you have read more widely. It demands an
examination of whether natural law can withstand the central claim of positivism, that
it illegitimately glorifies a social institution as necessarily moral, whereas it should be
regarded as a human practice, a social technique, which can be put to good or bad
ends. You might also consider whether the prevalent moral relativism of a secular age,
or philosophical scepticism, has undermined natural law thinking. Finally, does natural
law theorising avoid committing, in one way or another, the ‘naturalistic fallacy’?
Notice how easily this fallacy can be committed – Fuller’s description of the principles
which make up the ‘inner morality of law’ commits just this fallacy if Hart is correct
in judging him to have mistakenly treated principles of effectiveness as principles of
morality.
Reflect and review



I can describe the origins of natural law in ancient Greece

and Rome and the basic ideas which inform the natural
law tradition.   
I can explain the natural law theory of Aquinas, in

particular the relation of natural law to divine law and
human law, and the importance of the distinction
between specificatio and determinatio in the generation
of law.   
I can explain Finnis’s modern natural law theory, in

particular his employment of the ‘focal meaning’ or
‘central case’ to determine the subject matter of legal
theory, his reference to self-evident basic values, and his
characterisation of practical reason.   
I can explain in detail Fuller’s ‘inner morality of law’.   
I can critically assess these various versions of natural

law theory in light of the attack on natural law by legal
positivists.   
revise?
Must Revision
revise done
4.1 The rise of natural law in ancient Greece and Rome  
4.2 The natural law of Aquinas: structure  
4.3 The natural law of Aquinas: legal reason, human law,

and the obligation to obey the law  
4.4 Modern natural law theory I: Finnis  
4.5 Modern natural law theory II: Fuller  
4.6 The continuing debate over the connection between

law and morality  
5 Introduction to Hart’s The concept of law
Contents
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66
5.1 Studying Hart . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
5.2 Hart’s aims . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68
5.3 Definition and theory in The concept of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70
5.4 Criticism of the ‘orders backed by threats’ (OBT) theory . . . . . . . . . 71
5.5 The ‘union of primary and secondary rules’ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74
5.6 The less important chapters . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76
5.7 A return to the ‘internal’ point of view . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77

Introduction
Hart’s The concept of law used to be the set book for the module, because it forms a pillar
around which much of contemporary legal theory revolves. You will soon realise that it
is impossible to understand the work and ideas of many other authors, especially those
tackling the question of the nature of law, without having appreciated and understood
Hart’s arguments not least because many of these authors set up their theories explicitly
as objections to Hart’s. This is why you are required to read the book as essential reading.
From 2016 onwards, this book has not been examined as the sole focus of a separate
section of the examination paper. However, its importance in the field of Jurisprudence
means that it is likely to appear in the examination paper as a specific question in some
form and/or as relevant to other questions, which may be phrased in general terms or
specifically focused on other theorists whose work relates to Hart’s. For detailed guidance
on the new structure of the examination paper see section 1.3.1 of this module guide.
You will soon become aware that Hart’s work touches on many of the most significant
questions about law. Whether or not you disagree with what he says, his work is an
excellent starting point for getting deeper into jurisprudence. The immediate aim
is to encourage you to obtain a very good working knowledge of a theory of law
which is not only widely accepted, but which is very frequently the starting point for
other significant theories of law. The way Hart produces his theory is also of great
interest, since it is a very ‘lawyerlike’ approach, one that pays very close attention to
the subtleties in our use of language. For your interest, Professor Hart, who was the
Professor of Jurisprudence at the University of Oxford from 1954 to 1969, personally
taught many of the English and Commonwealth judges of the present time, and also
ran a successful commercial law practice in Lincoln’s Inn. As an introduction, you
should read a very helpful account of Hart’s life and work by Joseph Raz, ‘H.L.A. Hart
(1907–1992)’. Of particular importance, this overview includes a clear account of Hart’s
views about definition and the purpose of the study of legal language, and his role and
status as a philosopher of the linguistic school.
Many judges, lawyers and academics consider that Hart’s major work, The concept of law,
first published in 1961, provides an accurate account of how we should understand law. This
work is without a doubt one of the few major contemporary classics in the field, setting the
agenda for practically all the questions that are currently raised in jurisprudence. The book
is rightly part of the literature of a proper study of law at a university level and the teachers
on the University of London Jurisprudence module believe that because of its importance
it should be required reading for all candidates taking the module.
This chapter introduces Hart’s book and looks particularly at the development of his
arguments from his initial discussion of the problem of definition, through his analysis
of the idea of a rule, and how rules much better explain law than the idea of an ‘order
backed by threats’ implicit in Bentham and Austin, to his claiming that it is in the
‘union of primary and secondary rules’ that the ‘key’ to jurisprudence is to be found.
The following chapter, Chapter 6, will examine the importance he attached to the role
of his ‘rule of recognition’ and in Chapter 7, Hart’s important defences of his theory
against criticisms of the natural law school will be examined.
Learning outcomes
By the end of this chapter and the relevant reading, you should be able to:
uu explain what Hart means by a ‘simple’ definition
uu explain the difference between an ‘internal’ and an ‘external’ point of view
uu outline the main steps in Hart’s criticism of the ‘orders backed by threats’ theory
uu provide an analysis of the concept of a rule
uu explain the major components of Hart’s ‘union of primary and secondary rules’
uu outline what Hart meant by the ‘rule of recognition’.
uu consider critically Hart’s ‘construction’ of the secondary rules from a ‘pre-legal
society’
uu offer some comments on Perry’s criticism of Hart’s methodology
uu give a critical account of Hart’s views on theorising about law.
Jurisprudence and legal theory 5 Introduction to the set book: Hart’s The concept of law page 67
Essential reading
¢¢ Hart, H.L.A. The concept of law. (OUP 3rd edition, 2012) all chapters but
particularly the Preface, Chapters 1 to 6, and Chapter 9.
¢¢ Hart, H.L.A. Essays in jurisprudence and philosophy. (1982) Essay 1.
¢¢ Hart, H.L.A. Essays on Bentham. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1982) [ISBN 0198254687]
Chapter 10.
¢¢ Simmonds, N. Central issues in jurisprudence. Chapter 5.
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Taking rights seriously. Chapter 2: ‘The model of rules I’ and Chapter 4:
‘Hard cases’.
[ISBN 9780199599134] Chapter 1: ‘Evaluation and description of law’.
¢¢ MacCormick, N. Legal reasoning and legal theory. (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
1994) [ISBN 0198763840].
¢¢ Raz, J. (1993) ‘H.L.A. Hart 1907–1992’, Utilitas Vol. 5 pp.146–56 (obtainable in

philosophy sections of any university library).
¢¢ Perry, S. (1998) ‘Hart’s methodological positivism’ in Legal Theory, extracts of

which are in Freeman, M. (ed) Lloyd’s introduction to jurisprudence, Chapter 5:
‘Modern trends in analytical jurisprudence’, pp.510–539 413ff.
5.1 Studying Hart
5.1.1 A short summary

Hart’s theory is a modern restatement of the theory of legal positivism first expounded
in the nineteenth century by Jeremy Bentham and his disciple John Austin. Hart
believed that the ideal model of law was that of a ‘modern municipal legal system’
in which laws were to be identified according to the sources of law that judges
accepted. Since what the judges accepted was a matter of empirical fact, it would not
‘necessarily’ be the case that law had a moral content. Although this seems a relatively
simple and, to many, an appealing idea, the route to this conclusion is a long one and
this chapter is designed to make the journey easier.
5.1.2 How to read The concept of law

There are some chapters of Hart that warrant closer reading than others. The topic
of definition and methodology is discussed by Hart in the Preface and Chapter 1. The
criticisms that Hart makes of what he calls the ‘orders backed by threats theory writ
large’, which is really an attack on Austin’s and Bentham’s command theory of law, are
fully contained within Chapters 2, 3 and 4. The main thesis, that law consists of a ‘union
of primary and secondary rules’, is contained in Chapters 5 and 6, and his all-important
theory of the ‘rule of recognition’ is also discussed at length in Chapter 6. Apart from
these chapters, it is only Chapter 9 that you need to read very closely, since this is
where Hart defends his thesis of legal positivism against possible attacks by natural
lawyers. A discussion of Chapter 9, because it concerns such large topics, is left to
Chapter 7 of this module guide. However, I shall briefly summarise what is contained
in the other chapters of The concept of law, all of which, I should emphasise, you need
to read, since they all contribute something to understanding Hart’s overall thesis.
However, it is also true that they need not be read to the same depth as the Preface,
Chapters 1 to 6 and Chapter 9.
Take the book bit by bit, making notes as you go. You will find it difficult at first, but
you will get used to it. It is absolutely essential to do this early on in your studies,
so that you get a flavour of what intellectually rigorous jurisprudence is about. One
way of thinking about how you should go about reading Hart’s book is to think of
each of its 10 chapters as equivalent to a large and difficult case you might have to
know thoroughly in a common law subject. The secret is to break the work down into
manageable parts. You should make careful notes on each chapter – perhaps four or
five pages of notes – and then you should at a later stage go back to these notes and
summarise them further. One of the advantages of The concept of law is that there are
no wasted words, and each paragraph provides an argument in itself. An accumulation
of note-taking and careful reading, pursued throughout the first and second terms of
your study, will give you not only a wealth of ideas and argument, but the confidence
and background – for Hart’s work has great breadth as well as depth – to write clearly
and knowledgeably in the final examination.
You will be expected to know in some detail the major theses contained in The Concept
of Law, including Hart’s methodology; that is, the reasons why Hart argued for his
conclusions in the way that he did. Since there are some doubts as to whether his
methodology was clear – for at times it seems that he is ambiguous in his arguments
– it is necessary to pay great attention to what he says early on in the work about the
nature of definition.
Once you have grasped Hart’s theory, you should become acquainted with the very
well-known criticism of it by Ronald Dworkin contained in Chapter 2 of Dworkin’s
Taking rights seriously (1977) in which Dworkin claimed that Hart’s theory gave an
account of law as rules which could not take into account the controversial nature
of legal argument. Hart was troubled intellectually by Dworkin’s criticisms and the
Postscript is largely a result of his later thoughts about The concept of law in the light of
these criticisms. (See Chapters 6 and 11 of this module guide.)
5.1.3 Discussion groups

An excellent way to learn the prescribed text would be to find one or two other
students who are studying it. (If you are not able to work with other students, simply
spend some time thinking about these discussion questions and note down your
responses.) The questions that follow each chapter summary that I provide below
would be an ideal basis for a 1–1½ hour discussion group. Students should take turns
to introduce the question and give their answers to it, with a view to discussion. In this
way you could get through, say, three or four questions, and since each of you would
concentrate on one question, this would be an efficient way of sharing work. You will
find that Hart’s work lends itself very well to discussion (there is absolutely no ‘waffle’
in it) and that often it is only when you hear the argument being put orally that you
really grasp what he is getting at. You will find that Hart’s ideas are powerful and that
it is very difficult indeed to formulate criticisms against them. But try to do so! He is
very consistent and intelligent in his thought; so trying to engage with his thoughts by
attempting some criticism is an intellectual exercise that can only be of benefit to you.
Do not attempt to answer the questions following each summary until you
have read the relevant chapter of Hart. The questions are not there to test your
understanding of my summaries. You will go very seriously wrong if you imagine that
at this stage you can get away without reading The concept of law.
Preparing for an hour’s ‘peer-assisted learning’ on Hart

An ideal number of students would be three. Each should prepare one chapter of
Hart with a view to giving a five- to ten-minute introduction – no more – to the other
two students. (You will be surprised how little you can say in ten minutes.) This
introduction should isolate about three or four main points to discuss.
5.2 Hart’s aims

Hart is clear about his aims in the early part of his work, particularly in the very short
Preface (read the Preface now). It follows that you should read it carefully. He expands
on his aims in his discussion of the nature of definition in Chapter 1. It is common for
the examination to have questions on the definitional – methodological – aspects of
his thesis and the Preface and Chapter 1 should be taken together as a topic in their
own right. An article to read in conjunction with Chapter 1 is Hart’s inaugural lecture
‘Definition and Theory in Jurisprudence’, which predates the publication of The

Concept of Law by nine years and contains some helpful and interesting comments,
especially in the first part, although the argument is essentially that to be found in the
Preface and Chapter 1 of his later book. It can be found as Chapter 1 of Hart’s Essays in
jurisprudence and philosophy (1982).
The Preface
Hart famously said it was his intention to produce what he described as an ‘essay in
descriptive sociology’ and this phrase has bedevilled both academics and examination
candidates ever since he wrote his book. It is fairly clear that he intended to describe
for us how we understand our shared ‘concept’ of law, and he was going to do this by
describing the ‘social phenomenon’ of law. It is important to note two assumptions
that he appears to make at this point. First, that there is a ‘concept’ of law that ‘we’
share, and second, that discovering this concept is a matter of description only. His
project – at first sight, at least – seems to be in accordance with common sense. After
all, we do seem to share a ‘concept’ of law such that we know in some sense what we
are all talking about when we talk about law, and it seems sensible that, to find out
more about this ‘concept’, we need to describe in more detail what this ‘concept’ is.
Perhaps it is unfortunate that Hart used the word ‘sociology’ since that word invites
us to ask why we do not find in The concept of law anything that passes for standard
sociological, empirical enquiry into legal systems.
Hart also says in his Preface that he will pay great attention to the importance of
examining language and the meaning of words, with the object of finding out what
the social phenomenon of law is. He is clear, however, that his endeavour is not one
of mere semantics, about the way we use words alone; instead he aims to give an
account of law through the increased attention to legal-related language. In his
lectures in Oxford in the 1950s, he used to draw an analogy with a captain on a ship
who concentrates on focusing his telescope while his main object is to find land, since
there is no other way to find out in which direction to steer his ship. Likewise, Hart
says, it is only by focusing on legal language that we use that we can find out more
about our real object: the social phenomenon of law to which the language refers. In
other words, Hart’s aim is to pay attention to the language of the law although only to
find out more about the social phenomenon itself.
The third and final point that Hart emphasises in the Preface is the distinction
between the internal and external points of view. He says that we cannot understand
properly what a social practice such as rule-following, and hence law, is unless we
can understand what the practice is like ‘from the internal point of view’, that is
to say, from the point of view of someone who accepts that practice as a guide to
conduct. The ‘external’ point of view is manifested by someone who does not accept
the practice in question. This point of Hart’s is very important for understanding
his analysis of the concept of a rule, in his Chapter 4, and is important in general for
appreciating what is involved over and above the mere recording of regularity of
behaviour in explaining rule-governed human practices.
The analysis of rule-following

Hart says that there are vital differences between merely habitual behaviour, that is,
†
doing things as a rule,† and rule-following, i.e. making it a rule to do something. He Colloquially, as a rule means
says that it is wrong to describe rule-governed behaviour as merely regular and ‘usually, but not necessarily
habitual behaviour. Instead, there must be acceptance that the fact that people do always’, as in: ‘When I go to
things regularly is a reason or standard for behaving in that regular way. Statements London, as a rule I take the
train’.
which appeal to standards are to be contrasted with these ‘external’ statements about
the law, which do not signify that the speaker himself accepts them. In this sort of
case, according to Hart, we do not say ‘It is the law that...’ but instead we say such
things as ‘In the United Kingdom, they recognise as law...’. Hart says that this is an
external statement because it is the natural language of an external observer of the
system who, without him or herself necessarily accepting its rule of recognition, states
the fact that others accept it.
1. What are the three main points emphasised in Hart’s Preface?
2. What does it mean to ‘describe law’?
3. Is describing law analogous to describing, say, the geographical contours of an

island?
4. What is ‘sociology’?
5. What is ‘legal related language’?
Questions for discussion

You may like to discuss these questions with tutors or fellow students.
1. Is the analogy with the captain’s focusing his telescope a good one?
2. What are the ‘internal’ and ‘external’ points of view? Is the following a
manifestation of the ‘internal’ point of view? A person who, while not accepting
the rules of the Nazi legal system, recognises that clearly a lot of people once
did.
3. Do you think that knowing whether people accept rules in their society is
important? If so, why?
Summary
Hart aims to produce a descriptive theory of law by paying attention to legal-related
language and to the internal attitude of people towards the law.
5.3 Definition and theory in The concept of law
Chapter 1
In this chapter, Hart isolates three questions of importance to be considered in
jurisprudence:
uu What is the difference between law and coercion?
uu What is the relationship between legal and moral obligation?
uu What does it mean to say that a social rule exists in a particular society?
In order to answer these three questions, he then sets up a method for understanding
the concept of law by exploring the idea of definition. Consider his ‘simple’ definition
of a triangle as ‘a three-sided rectilinear figure’. Such a definition is very useful since
it breaks down what a triangle is into simpler ideas and allows us to substitute ‘three-
sided rectilinear figure’ wherever the word ‘triangle’ is used. But he concludes that
such a definition is not possible for law because of the existence of ‘difficult cases’, by
which he means in particular international law and primitive law. International lawyers
have long debated the vexed question of whether international law is ‘really’ law since
there is no world court, nor world legislature, nor an internationally agreed form of
systematically applied sanctions against those states that do not follow international
law. Similarly, the law of primitive tribes does not seem to share certain institutions,
such as formally constituted courts and legislatures, that seem to be part of the
concept of law. There does not seem to be a ‘simple’ definition of law that could settle
these questions once and for all.
Hart therefore abandons the idea of a ‘simple’ definition for law and adopts instead
what can be described as a model of law, one against which the ‘difficult cases’ of
international and primitive law might be compared. The construction of this model of
law occupies him for most of the rest of his book, and his conclusion (outlined in detail
in Chapters 5 and 6 of The concept of law) is that the model of law is constituted by a
‘central set of elements’ that describes a ‘modern municipal legal system’. By looking
at the model (what he calls the ‘union of primary and secondary rules’) a comparison
can be made with the difficult cases of international and primitive law. Since the
modern municipal legal system has courts, and has a legislature as well as involving
the application of rules, it is then possible to say: ‘international law is law to the
extent that it shares similarities with this central case (e.g. it involves legal argument
employing rules), and not law to the extent that it does not (e.g. there is no court of
general jurisdiction)’. The same arguments can be advanced for primitive law.
Hart returns to the question of the status of international law in his final chapter,
Chapter 10, and so there is a return to the idea of definition in that chapter, too.
The aim of Chapter 10, which is not essential to the main thesis of the book, is to
demonstrate the breadth of his theory: Hart abandons ‘simple’ definition in the early
part of the book partly because of the existence of the phenomenon of international
law, proceeds to construct a ‘central set of elements’ in Chapters 5 and 6, and then
returns to international law in the final chapter to show the extent of the similarities
and dissimilarities with a modern municipal legal system.

You may like to discuss these questions with tutors or fellow students.
1. What is simple about a ‘simple’ definition? Would a triangle imposed on a
sphere be as simply defined as Hart suggests? If not, why not? Although Hart
abandons the idea of simple definition, is it clear that what he proposes instead
is different in kind, rather than degree? After all, a triangle imposed on a sphere
would in some respects be within the simple definition (if you looked at it two-
dimensionally) but in other respects not.
2. Austin thought that the ‘difficult’ cases for law were ‘international law’ and
‘constitutional law’ (see Chapter 3 of this module guide). Hart, on the other
hand, thinks that international law and primitive law are difficult cases. Is there
any reason for the difference between Austin and Hart here?
3. Why should Hart (and the history of jurisprudence) be concerned with the
differences between law and coercion, and legal and moral obligation? These
concerns seem focused more on questions of legitimacy and the limits of law,
than on mere description.
4. By what criteria should one choose a ‘central set of elements’ constituting law?
Could one choose on other than descriptive grounds? For example, could one
say that the morally best model of law would be that which served certain moral
purposes? (John Finnis argues along these lines: see Chapter 4 of this guide.)

uu explain what Hart means by a ‘simple’ definition
uu explain the difference between an ‘internal’ and an ‘external’ point of view.
5.4 Criticism of the ‘orders backed by threats’ (OBT) theory

In Chapters 2, 3 and 4, Hart provides a classic criticism of a theory he calls the ‘orders
backed by threats’ (OBT) theory of law, which is fairly closely based on Austin’s theory
of law as the command of the sovereign (see Chapter 3 of this guide). The main
criticism of the OBT theory is that it ignores the concept of rule-following because
it concentrates on thinking of law as only a set of predictions of the likelihood of
punishment from someone who gives an order, and this idea cannot explain what it
means to follow a rule. If we cannot understand what it means to follow a rule, says
Hart, then we cannot understand the important distinction between those rules that
impose duties and those that confer powers, nor can we understand the important
idea of sovereignty.
Chapter 2
In this chapter, Hart considers linguistic differences between orders and laws and this
introduces the reader to what is often called ‘the linguistic method’ or the ‘method of
linguistic philosophy’. It is common for a student new to this subject to suppose that
something rather strange is being done here, but this is not the case at all. All law
students soon learn that there are standard uses of legal words, and that a large part of
learning legal technique requires paying careful attention to words. For example,
there is a very important difference in statutory language between the use of ‘will’ and
‘shall’ such that ‘shall’ indicates a mandatory requirement. (The use of this example
should spark other examples in your mind.) Hart just applies this technique to
understanding not the meaning of particular laws, but of law in general. Famously,
Hart in this chapter draws a linguistic distinction between our standard use of the
term ‘being obliged’ (that is, being coerced) to do something and ‘being under an
obligation’ (that is, being under a duty)† to do something, saying that in the former †
The being obliged/being
case, no obligation was implied. under a duty distinction
depends on our interpreting
This seems a reasonable remark to make since it allows us to distinguish between two
‘obligation’ as a duty, that is,
cases that on the face of it are very similar: the case where a gunman points his gun at something that we ought to
a bank teller and tells her to hand over cash, and the case where a tax inspector orders do, rather than something
someone to pay a particular amount of money to the government. In the former case, that we are forced to do. We
we would have great difficulty in saying that the teller was under an obligation to hand may have an obligation to
the money over just because a gun was pointed at her head; but in the latter case, it is perform a duty such as doing
clear that the tax inspector has a legal right to make a demand, and that this creates jury service, but we are not
an obligation on the part of the citizen to pay. Going from our actual use of language forced to do so: we may find
to understanding the differences in social conduct is therefore not at all dissimilar an excuse, or simply refuse,
from what lawyers are doing all the time. It is important not to be bedevilled by the and accept the consequent
way this method of Hart’s is labelled ‘linguistic philosophy’; it is common enough and, penalties.
indeed, the method was dominant in Oxford philosophy for at least a decade from the
early 1950s.
Activity 5.1
Of particular note in this chapter is the use made of Hart’s method of picking out
distinctions in the meaning of words and then assuming that these words reflect
significant differences in the phenomena of law.
Select three examples of his using this method, and explain what, if anything, is
brought out that is significant about our understanding of law.

Would it be at all sensible, or legitimate, for Austin to reply to Hart, on learning of
Hart’s drawing attention to a distinction in our language between ‘being obliged
to do something’ and ‘being under an obligation’, that ‘he was not interested in
distinctions that we in fact draw in our language, perhaps mistakenly, only in what
is of importance to understanding law’? Consider whether Austin could be read as
encouraging us to stop thinking of legal obligation as anything more than just our
‘being obliged’ by the force of sanctions to do things that the legislature wants us to
do. Read like this, Austin’s theory would have a lot of force to some people. Further,
by commanding someone to do something, is it possible that we could thereby
create a right, or a power in someone else? Think up examples.
Chapter 3
In this chapter, Hart considers what law would be like if we took it as represented by
the model, as he says, of ‘orders backed by threats writ large’, in other words, if we
assumed that law really consisted of orders directed to us by the legal sovereign. He
makes three main criticisms.
First, the model of orders is much closer to the idea that all laws impose duties, as
though all laws were really of the sort that we find most common in criminal law and
tort. Quite apart from the difficulty that merely ordering a person to do something
only ‘obliges’ a person to do something, and does not impose a duty on them, Hart
says that the model does not take into account the existence of rules that confer
powers on people to do things. A large part of our laws does not require us to do
things, but only declares that, if we want to achieve certain goals, such as make
contracts, marry, form companies, acquire property, and so on, there are ‘power-
conferring’ rules that can ‘facilitate’ our activities.
Second, the idea of ordering a person to do something, ignores an important feature

of law – that it can just as easily and readily apply to those who make the laws; and so
the model of orders as a ‘top-down’ one, cannot adequately account for it.
Finally, the model of law as orders implies that there is a time and place in which the
law was created, when the order was ‘made’. But Hart again points out that with law
it is not necessary in every case to be able to locate the time and place of the coming
into force of the order. In the common law, for example, it is clear that it is possible
to identify law without having to locate when, and from which body, it came into
being. In particular, Hart points to the legal status of local custom. Such customs, if
reasonable, and existing from ‘time immemorial’, are legally valid and enforceable,
yet it is of the essence of customs that they arise over time and not as the result of a
particular sovereign order.
1. List the main criticisms that Hart makes of the OBT theory.
2. What are the differences, if any, between Austin’s command theory, and the OBT
theory?
3. Can power-conferring rules be recast as duty-imposing rules that are merely

hypothetical, as Hart suggests? What are the disadvantages, if any, of seeing the
law in this way?
4. Can the possibility that a will could be declared null and void have the same
motivational force as a sanction?
5. What is it about custom that creates difficulties for the OBT? Is there any
way of getting around the problem? (Hint: see what Austin says about ‘tacit’
commands, in Chapter 3 of this guide.)
Chapter 4
Hart continues his criticism of the OBT theory by criticising the idea of legal
sovereignty as brute force. Such an idea, he says, cannot cope with the problems of
the continuity of sovereignty because it overlooks the part played by rules. A habit of
obedience is fundamentally different from the important concept of rule-following,
which includes the idea of standards against which conduct may be appraised.
Therefore any idea that sovereignty can be identified as a ‘person or group of persons’
(Austin’s description of the sovereign) that relied for its existence on the continued
‘habits of obedience’ to it, would meet severe difficulties when there was a change
of sovereignty. In such a case, the new sovereign would have to wait and see whether
a habit of obedience occurred and at the very least there would be a period of
uncertainty – an interregnum. But, Hart says, if we use the idea of rule-following
rather than a habit of obedience we can see that the rule-related idea of a ‘right to
sovereignty’ is possible, such that a succeeding sovereign (which he calls ‘Rex II’) gains
the right to succession. The sovereign itself is constituted by rules, in any modern
and sophisticated legal system, and so the appropriate people are seen as occupying
offices of the sovereign rather than being the sovereign themselves. This is why, for
example, in the United Kingdom, the sovereign is ‘Crown-in-Parliament’ and is not
‘a person or group of persons’ but a complex set of rules. Like a corporation, there
is an existence without a specific body of persons, in the rule-created institution
itself. In sum, the orders backed by threats model, where those orders issue from a
determinate body of people, must fail because it ignores the corporate nature of the
legal sovereign.
Discussion topic
If we refer to the OBT theory sovereign as ‘a person or group of people’ we might
not have difficulty in agreeing with Hart about the Rex I/Rex II scenario where
we think of the sovereign as an individual person. But if the sovereign consists of
a ‘group of people’ we might think that the word ‘group’ would independently
characterise the sovereign, and so independently allow some form of legal
continuity.
What do you think? Assess the arguments for and against such a move. It would be
useful to read Tony Honoré’s article ‘Groups, laws and obedience’ in Simpson, A.W.B.
(ed.) Oxford essays in jurisprudence: second series (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
1973) [ISBN 0198253133].
Summary
Hart says that social rules involve a standard accepted by some members of a social
group, and the idea of a rule is better at explaining the law than the hierarchical,
one-off, nature of an order. Rules allowing for the distinction between legal duties and
powers can account for the fact that laws apply to the institutions that make them,
and explain why there are some laws that do not appear to have any particular origin,
such as customary law.
5.5 The ‘union of primary and secondary rules’

Chapters 5 and 6 are the heart of The concept of law, and in them, having dealt with the
problems of definition and the inadequacies of the OBT model, Hart sets out what he
thinks are the central features of law.
Chapter 5
Here Hart creates his own model of law as opposed to the Austinian model. Law
includes the idea of obligation and that idea implies the existence of strongly
supported social rules. But law also includes, in addition to obligations, rules that
confer powers, permitting people to do things, and this was one of Hart’s criticisms
of the OBT theory. In this chapter, Hart produces a more direct argument to say why
it is that the law consists also of power-conferring rules, and this argument generates
reasons why the power-conferring rules are of different types. Hart imagines a society
in which there are only duty-imposing rules and in which there are no power-
conferring rules at all. He says that this would not be a truly legal society: it would
only be ‘pre-legal’, because it would suffer from what he calls certain ‘social defects’.
Such a society, he says, would be ‘static’, ‘inefficient’ and would create undesirable
‘uncertainty’. It would be static because no-one would have the power to change
the rules to suit changing social circumstances, and so the society would not be
able to ‘progress’. It would be inefficient because no-one would have the power to
adjudicate on disputes of law and fact, or have the power to enforce the law. It would
be ‘uncertain’ because no-one would have the power to identify what the law was in
any disputed case.
To cure these defects, Hart constructs three power-conferring rules, which he now
calls the ‘secondary rules’:
uu First, there are the rules of change that introduce private and public powers of
legislation and repeal and ‘cure’ the defect of lack of progress (i.e. of being ‘static’).
uu Second, he introduces the rules of adjudication and these ‘cure’ the defect of
inefficiency by introducing the courts and other institutions of law enforcement.
uu Finally, there is the rule of recognition which, by conferring power on people to

identify the law for certain through the institution of criteria of legal validity, ‘cures’
the ‘defect’ of uncertainty.
The result of this construction from duty-imposing to power-conferring rules, creates

Hart’s well-known ‘union of primary and secondary rules’ which forms the central
‘set of elements’ that constitutes law. From his criticism of the OBT theory (and
implicitly of Austin and Bentham) he has analysed law in terms of rules, and in terms
of a distinction between duty-imposing and power-conferring rules. From this he has
created the idea of law as a set of rules instituting law as we know and see it around
us, with its public legislature, its ‘private power-conferring rules’, which enable people
to make wills and contracts, marry, etc., its courts and law enforcement institutions –
and, above all – its criteria of recognising valid law through the rule of recognition. No
wonder Hart thought that in the union of primary and secondary rules he had found
‘the key to the science of jurisprudence’.

In what sense do you think Hart uses the terms ‘defect’ and ‘cure’? These terms
connote disease! What is the ‘defect’ of uncertainty? Is it a defect, for example, of
the law of tort that it is very uncertain?
Perhaps it is not so important that we know for sure whether we will obtain
compensation in any given set of circumstances, but important only that we know
that compensation is possible when there is negligently caused injury or damage.
On the other hand, being certain about what the law requires seems important for
the criminal law, and for property law.
Chapter 6
†
This consists of an examination in greater detail of the rule of recognition† and its role Definition of the rule of
in constitutional law. The rule of recognition is identified as a matter of empirical fact recognition
and this proposition is one of the most important in the whole book, for it is by his Hart says that ‘The simplest
special means of identifying law that Hart establishes the positivistic nature of his form of remedy for the
thesis, in which law is to be seen as something independent from morality. In this uncertainty of the regime
of primary rules is the
chapter, Hart returns to the distinction he drew in his Preface, between the internal
introduction of what we shall
point of view and the external point of view, this time applying the idea to the point of
call a “rule of recognition”.
view from which the rule of recognition is understood by the ‘officials’ or judges of the
This will specify some feature
system: the internal point of view refers to the point of view of the officials who accept
or features possession of
the rule. In this chapter, Hart also defines what it means when we say that a legal
which by a suggested rule
system exists. He says there is a legal system in existence when (a) the rules issuing
is taken as a conclusive
from it are ‘by and large effective’ and (b) even if people in general need not accept
affirmative indication that
the rules (that is, they need not adopt the ‘internal point of view’ towards them), the it is a rule of the group to
officials do accept certain standards, through their acceptance of the rule of be supported by the social
recognition as setting up the criteria of legal validity of the system. More will be said pressure it exerts.’ (The
about the rule of recognition, which is the most difficult, and most significant, idea in concept of law, p. 94)
The concept of law, in Chapter 6 of this guide.

uu provide an analysis of the concept of a rule
uu explain the major components of Hart’s ‘union of primary and secondary rules’
uu consider critically Hart’s ‘construction’ of the secondary rules from a ‘pre-legal
society’
uu outline what Hart meant by the ‘rule of recognition’.

What is the relationship between what are called ‘the sources of law’ and the rule
of recognition?
What use does the rule of recognition have in legal argument? (See also Chapter 6
of this guide.)
Hart talks of the ‘necessary’ conditions for a legal system. What do you think he
means by ‘necessary’? Logically necessary? Is Roman law valid law according to his
theory, even though it hasn’t been enforced for a millennium?
Summary
Chapters 5 and 6 of The concept of law contain Hart’s central thesis that the ‘central set
of elements’ constituting law consists of ‘the union of primary and secondary rules’.
These rules are the duty-imposing and power-conferring rules respectively, and the
three power-conferring rules are the rules of change, adjudication and recognition.
These rules set up legislatures, public and private powers of legislation, courts, and
criteria of legal validity. In particular, the rule of recognition is accepted by the officials
– the judges – of the system. To say that a legal system exists means that it is by and
large effective, and at least the officials of the system accept a rule of recognition that
identifies what is legally valid within the system.
5.6 The less important chapters
Chapter 7
This chapter is relatively little read but is a very important chapter in relation to
Hart’s view of legal reasoning. He stresses the open-ended, unclear and ambiguous
character of many legal rules and discusses his famous distinction between the core
and penumbra of settled rules of the legal system. He attacks the view that law can
be reduced to a set of propositions about what judges will do, and this constitutes a
criticism by him of a school of jurisprudence in the United States that existed mostly
in the first half of the twentieth century – ‘American legal realism’. This school took
the view that statements of law were no more than predictions of what judges and
juries would do in any particular case, leading to a call for an examination of law
‘beyond the stated rules’ and into the sociological conditions that surrounded law.
Hart, naturally enough, given his analysis of rule-following as something distinct
from the mere predictions of the likelihood of the application of a sanction, as the
OBT theory seemed to require, is critical of the American realists’ lack of emphasis
on the existence of standards of conduct against which actual conduct should be
compared. Such ‘normative’ standards, of course, are what Hart thought was essential
to understanding law. His discussion of the various ways in which judges come to their
decisions is very valuable, and this chapter can be read very profitably in connection
with understanding how Hart might defend himself against Dworkin’s criticisms of
Hart’s rule of recognition.
Chapter 8
This and the following chapter concern themselves with questions of morality that
arise in relation to law. In Chapter 8, Hart considers why law and morality have so
much to do with each other but nevertheless can be distinguished in the way his
theory of legal positivism requires. The most valuable discussion is his brilliantly clear
introduction to the idea and history of the development of doctrines of ‘natural’ law.
It is one of the best introductions anywhere into this difficult subject, and is very
useful to read in conjunction with Chapter 4 of this module guide. In particular, Hart
distinguishes between that sort of justice that attaches to law (procedural justice, or
justice ‘according to law’), and that justice that attaches to substantive law (or justice
‘of the law’). He says that it is the latter concept that is more important from the moral
point of view.
Chapter 9
This is discussed separately in Chapter 7 of this module guide.
Chapter 10
This chapter has already been discussed. It is best understood as a kind of summing
up of both Hart’s theory of definition in the form of the setting up of a ‘central set of
elements’ constituting law and how international law is to be understood in terms of
his general thesis that law consists of a union of primary and secondary rules.
Summary
The chapters that you can afford to read in less depth are Chapters 7, 8 and 10. Chapter
7 is Hart’s account of legal reasoning, Chapter 8 is his classic introduction to natural
law, and Chapter 10 is his discussion of the status of international law.
5.7 A return to the ‘internal’ point of view

One of the central themes of The concept of law is the very important idea of the
‘internal point of view’. A way of understanding Hart, as well as a way of getting into a
frame of mind where you can really try to criticise Hart’s very well thought-out theory,
is constantly to ask yourself what the ‘internal point of view’ is. In Hart’s terms, it
means ‘acceptance’: the ‘internal point of view’ means nothing more than that when
a person has an internal point of view towards a set of rules, it means just that he or
she accepts those rules. But the idea of ‘acceptance’ is not unproblematic. Is there
any room for investigation into why anyone would accept the rule of recognition, for
example? The rule of recognition, as we have seen, is crucial to identifying the law
for Hart, and at the same time, we see that the distinction between the ‘external’ and
‘internal’ points of view is similarly crucial. What if we felt inclined to say that judges –
who are required to adopt the internal point of view – should only commit themselves
by their judicial oath to criteria of legal validity that have some moral decency (e.g.
a commitment of allegiance to the Nazi party would not be proper)? If we did think
that, it would mean that we would not identify any rule as valid law unless it complied
with a rule of recognition that embodied some moral decency (e.g. was democratic,
say). This would entirely demolish Hart’s theory of legal positivism since it would have
to hold that there was necessarily some connection between legal validity and moral
decency.
¢¢ Kramer M., C. Grant, B. Colburn and A. Hatzistavrou (eds) The legacy of HLA Hart:
legal, political, and moral philosophy. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008)
[ISBN 9780199542895]
is a collection of essays on Hart’s work. The essays by Finnis, Waldron and Ryan are of
particular relevance.
¢¢ Toh, K. ‘Raz on detachment, acceptance and describability’ (2007) 27 Oxford

Journal of Legal Studies 403
is a demanding, but illuminating, discussion of the best way of understanding Hart’s

‘internal point of view’.
5.7.1 Perry on Hart’s methodology

Stephen Perry has written an influential article on Hart’s methodology in which
he takes the line that Hart’s theory cannot be purely ‘neutral’ and ‘descriptive’, as
Hart maintained in his Postscript. It is a difficult read, but well worth the effort. In
‘Hart’s Methodological Positivism’ (extracts of which appear in Lloyd’s introduction
to jurisprudence pp.451–481) Perry argues that there is a difficulty in Hart’s use of a
‘descriptive-explanatory’ approach implicit in Hart’s Preface. Under this methodology,
explanatory power is determined by ‘meta-theoretical’ criteria such as predictive
power, coherence, and an attempt at ‘covering’ all the available phenomena. Hart, of
course, appears to be attempting this, for example, when he self-describes The Concept
of Law as an ‘essay in descriptive sociology’. Perry rejects this sort of method. He says
that Hart instead relies on ‘evaluative judgments’ in his choice of a ‘central case’ of
law. In other words, Hart privileges the ‘modern municipal legal system’, and so Hart’s
claim to generality is lost. Further, a description could only explain why people regard
themselves as under obligations, but not why they are under obligations. If the aim
of a description is ‘accuracy’, then it should report inconsistencies and different views
about what obligations people are under, but these too can only be understood by
addressing the central question of whether people actually are under obligations. This
requires moral argument, not just a description of ‘how things are’. Perry therefore
concludes that an internal account is required to understand the normativity (the
‘rule-governed nature’) of law.
Activity 5.2
a. What is the difference between ‘being under an obligation’ and ‘believing you
are under an obligation’? Is ‘being under an obligation’ only a matter of ‘feeling’
or ‘belief’? Think of examples where you are under an obligation but do not
believe you are, and conversely, examples where you only believe you are under
an obligation but are not actually so.
b. Is there any reason why Hart should not ‘privilege’ ‘the modern municipal legal
system’? Think of three examples where the question of whether a person has
an obligation to do something is controversial.
c. Is Perry right to say that we cannot understand the rule-governed nature of law
without an internal approach that would resolve controversial disputes?
Summary
The internal point of view is the point of view of a person who accepts some standard
for his own and/or other’s conduct such that we can say that conduct is ‘rule-
governed’. Difficulties arise over whether it is possible to say that mere acceptance
is sufficient to explain rule-following adequately, since there will always be some
controversy over what standard of conduct is to be applied.

uu offer some comments on Perry’s criticism of Hart’s methodology.
uu give a critical account of Hart’s views on theorising about law.

Question 1 Explain the role of the rule of recognition in Hart’s theory.
Question 2 Hart famously claims that The concept of law is an exercise in
sociological description. What features of his theory support this claim?

†
Question 1 Start off by providing a definition of the rule of recognition† and show the As the rule of recognition is
examiner that you are clear first about why Hart postulated the rule, and second about covered in detail in Chapter
what the rule is supposed to do. The rule of recognition was designed to ‘cure’ the 6 of this guide, you may want
‘defect of uncertainty’ in a legal system, and you should dwell for some time on what to read section 6.1 before
the uncertainty is, and why, in Hart’s view it amounted to a defect. For example, note answering this question.
that Hart thought that there were two ways that rules in a simple regime of primary
rules could be uncertain. It could be that the status of some rule as a ‘legal’ rule, as
opposed to a religious rule, or a moral rule, is in doubt. Again, once the rule is
identified as ‘legal’ there might be some doubt as to its scope (for example, does the
rule that prohibits vehicles from the park, prohibit roller-skates?). What is the rule
supposed to do in addition to curing these defects?
Hart thinks it has several roles, one of which is to turn a set of legal rules into a legal
system; another of which is to array legal criteria in a hierarchy, from a supreme
criterion of validity (in the UK, what Crown-in-Parliament enacts) to subordinate
criteria (local custom, for example). This question also requires you to consider the
central role that the rule of recognition plays in determining Hart’s legal positivism. It
is through the rule of recognition, established as a matter of empirical fact about what
judges do, that we find out what the law is, and so it is not necessary for us to make
moral judgements in order to determine the validity of law. Once you have explained
the role in some detail (more detail is required than I have indicated here) you could
then profitably move on to consider criticisms of the rule.
Question 2 This question requires discussion of Hart’s methodology. Sociological
evidence is strikingly absent from The concept of law and you must confront the
question of whether this matters, especially since Hart described his book as ‘an essay
in descriptive sociology’. Can a description of a legal system adequately be provided
in an examination of the way people, predominantly English lawyers, speak about the
law? You should look at what Hart says about the relevance of linguistic analysis, and
give examples. You should then form an opinion of your own. Clearly, we don’t need
‘sociological evidence’ to find out a great deal about a legal system. Hart’s analysis
of rule-following is full of insights, yet ‘sociological’ evidence doesn’t seem relevant.
You should consider how Hart builds up his concept of law out of the shortcomings of
an imaginary regime of primary rules, and also how he justifies the same concept, in
Chapter 9 of The concept of law, in its ability to settle certain sorts of problems (which
we deal with in Chapter 6 of this module guide).
Reflect and review



I can explain what Hart means by a ‘simple’ definition.   
I can explain the difference between an ‘internal’

and an ‘external’ point of view.   
I can outline the main steps in Hart’s criticism of the

‘orders backed by threats’ theory.   
I can provide an analysis of the concept of a rule.   
I can explain the major components of Hart’s ‘union of

primary and secondary rules’.   
I can outline what Hart meant by the ‘rule of recognition’.   
I can consider critically Hart’s ‘construction’ of the

secondary rules from a ‘pre-legal society’.   
I can offer some comments on Perry’s criticism of Hart’s

methodology.   
I can give a critical account of Hart’s views on theorising

about law.   
revise?
Must Revision
revise done
5.1 Studying Hart  
5.2 Hart’s aims  
5.3 Definition and theory in The concept of law  
5.4 Criticism of the ‘orders backed by threats’ (OBT) theory  
5.5 The ‘union of primary and secondary rules’  
5.6 The less important chapters  
5.7 A return to the ‘internal’ point of view  

6 A master rule for law: Hart’s rule of recognition
Contents
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82
6.1 Identifying the rule of recognition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83
6.2 Criticism of the rule of recognition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85
6.3 The Postscript . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87

Introduction
This chapter pays particular attention to what is probably the major focus of Hart’s
theory: the set of criteria through which laws are identified. Hart is very specific about
how we identify the rule of recognition, namely, that its existence is a question purely
of empirical fact. It is therefore appropriate in this chapter to see what he says about
legal method in his now well-known Postscript to The concept of law, because there he
affirms that his aim all along in his work was just to give a factual account of law, one
that did not import any moral judgment.
Learning outcomes
uu describe the rule of recognition in detail
uu describe what Hart calls ‘the necessary and sufficient conditions of the existence
of a legal system’
uu explain the significance of the rule of recognition for Hart for establishing his
particular form of legal positivism
uu discuss critically Hart’s claim that the rule of recognition is identified as ‘a matter
of fact’
uu outline the main arguments put by Dworkin in his criticism of the rule of
recognition theory
uu express your own opinion about the ‘ultimate’ criteria of legal validity,
supported by reasons
uu describe in general terms the position that Hart takes in the Postscript
uu give an account of the significance of the Postscript (a) for interpreting the main
doctrines of The concept of law and (b) for understanding law generally.
Essential reading
¢¢ Hart, H. ‘Postscript’.
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Taking rights seriously. (London: Duckworth, 1978) [ISBN 0715611747]

Chapter 2: ‘The model of rules I’.
¢¢ Finnis, J. Natural law and natural rights. (Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2011)
[ISBN 9780199599134] Chapter 1: ‘Evaluation and description of law’.
¢¢ Guest, S. ‘Two strands in Hart’s theory of law: a comment on the postscript to

Hart’s The concept of law’ in Positivism Today. (Aldershot: Dartmouth, 1996) [ISBN
1855216892] p. 29.

1983) [ISBN 0198253885] pp.62–72 (on the ‘core’ and the ‘penumbra’ of legal
rules).
¢¢ MacCormick, N. Legal reasoning and legal theory. (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
1978) [ISBN 0198760809] Appendix, p. 275.
¢¢ Case: R. v Registrar of Births, ex parte Smith [1991] 2 QB 393; Riggs v Palmer 115 NY
506 (1889).
Jurisprudence and legal theory 6 A master rule for law: Hart’s rule of recognition page 83
6.1 Identifying the rule of recognition
Essential reading
¢¢ Hart, Chapter 6: ‘The foundations of a legal system’, pp.94–110; Chapter 7:
‘Formalism and rule scepticism, pp.147–154, and Postscript, pp.246–268, 292–295.
While you are studying Hart, you should distinguish a narrower, professional
question from the general question – ‘What is law?’ – that Hart sets himself at the
very beginning of The concept of law. This narrower question is ‘What is the law?’ and
it is narrower because it leads to a more precise specification of the issue on which
knowledge of the law is required, and (most importantly) a specification of the legal
system to which the question relates. Someone who asks, for example, ‘What is the
law concerning mortgages in England?’ will be disappointed by the reply that ‘it is
the union of primary and secondary rules’ (the answer to the ‘general question’),
considering it to have no practical relevance.
Hart’s reply would depend on his theory of legal validity. Briefly, his answer is that the
law on a particular topic in a particular legal system is that which it is according to the
rule of recognition in that system. We need, therefore, to examine more closely what
Hart means by his rule, or rules, of recognition.
Incidentally, if you are wondering whether there is only one rule of recognition, or
whether there are several, the writer can confirm that he has asked Hart this very
question. Hart’s reply was that there is no importance in the issue. We can loosely refer to
several rules, such as, in the United Kingdom, ‘What Crown-in-Parliament enacts is law’,
or ‘What the common law courts decide is law’ and so on, or we can simply bundle them
all together in one more complicated rule such as ‘What Crown-in-Parliament enacts and
what the common law courts decide and ...is law’. Hart’s definition occurs on p. 94 of The
concept of law. The rule of recognition is defined as specifying
some feature or features possession of which by a suggested rule is taken as a conclusive
affirmative indication that it is a rule of the group to be supported by the social pressure
it exerts.
6.1.1 The supreme criterion and the ultimate rule

A rule of recognition, therefore, is simply a rule whose function is to identify whether
or not another rule is part of the legal system. Hart further distinguishes between what
he calls a supreme criterion and an ultimate rule of recognition:
uu The supreme criterion is part of the rule of recognition and is the part which
dominates over the rest. So the supreme criterion in the United Kingdom legal
system is Parliamentary enactment, and if the common law, or local or general
custom, conflicts with Parliamentary enactment, that enactment prevails.
uu The ultimate rule of the system is the rule of recognition itself because you cannot
go back further than that. It is ultimate in the sense that Kelsen’s basic norm is,
because we cannot trace validity back any further. (For a discussion of Kelsen’s
basic norms see Chapter 10 of this guide.) So we can trace back the root of title or
validity of a bylaw to an Act of Parliament but here, says Hart, we are brought to a
stop in inquiries concerning validity.
Hart uses this distinction between a supreme criterion of validity and the ultimate rule
of recognition to criticise Austin’s attempt to say that all law is the result of legislation
(remember Austin’s theory of the tacit consent of the sovereign). He claims that this sort
of confusion is caused by supposing that the supreme criterion of validity within the rule
of recognition is the rule of recognition itself, that is, in the case of the United Kingdom,
supposing that the only rule of recognition is: ‘What Crown-in-Parliament enacts is law’.
The existence of the rule of recognition is a matter of empirical fact, to be determined

by looking to the actual practice of the officials of the system. But Hart says that this
does not mean that the rule of recognition is explicitly declared, saying that in the day-
to-day life of a legal system its rule of recognition is very seldom expressly formulated
as a rule and that for the most part the rule of recognition is not stated, but its
existence is shown in the way in which particular rules are identified.
Activity 6.1
As you read the text, ask yourself the following questions and note down your
thoughts:
a. What is the importance, if any, of the rule of recognition?
b. What is the importance, if any, of a distinction between identifying law itself, as

opposed to identifying particular laws of particular legal systems?
c. Is Hart’s definition of a legal system convincing?
d. Distinguish what Hart means by ‘supreme’ criterion and ‘ultimate’ rule.
6.1.2 The definition of a legal system

The definition of a legal system (as opposed to ‘law’) is important for understanding
the relationship between effectiveness and validity in Hart’s theory. He says that it is
pointless to talk of legal validity unless the legal system is generally effective.
The criteria for the existence of a legal system are that:
uu The officials of the legal system must have the internal attitude towards the rule of
recognition of the system, and it is not necessary (although it might be true) that
private citizens have the internal attitude towards the rules. Hart says that what is
crucial is that there should be a unified or shared official acceptance of the rule of
recognition containing the systems criteria of validity.
uu The valid legal rules of the system must generally be obeyed by both officials and
the private citizens.
Note that he says that sometimes there might be a point in talking as though a legal
system was in existence, as when teaching a subject like Roman law. The Roman
legal system is no longer effective, yet, he says, a vivid way of teaching it is to discuss
the validity of the particular rules in that system as if the system were still effective.
Nevertheless, because it is no longer effective, no-one thinks that Roman law is
currently valid.
Summary
The rule of recognition answers the question ‘what is the law of a particular system?’ It
is found by recording the actual practice of judges and other officials of a legal system.
It is the ‘ultimate rule’ but it comprises both ‘supreme’ and ‘subordinate’ criteria of
legal validity. The rule of recognition is also pivotal in defining what a legal system is.

uu describe the rule of recognition in detail
uu describe what Hart calls ‘the necessary and sufficient conditions of the existence
of a legal system’
uu explain the significance of the rule of recognition for Hart for establishing his
particular form of legal positivism
uu discuss critically Hart’s claim that the rule of recognition is identified as ‘a matter
of fact’.
6.2 Criticism of the rule of recognition
6.2.1 Finnis’s critique

You should note two important criticisms of Hart’s rule of recognition. One is Finnis’s
criticism in Natural law and natural rights Chapter 1. A shorter version is to be found
in his ‘Revolutions and Continuity of Law’ in the Oxford essays in jurisprudence: second
series. His criticism is that Hart leaves insufficiently specified the sort of attitude
towards the rule of recognition that the officials have. Finnis says that there are a
number of attitudes that could be described by this phrase and that – here he employs
Hart’s own definitional technique (see section 5.3 of this module guide) – there must
be a central set of elements that constitute an official’s acceptance of the rule of
recognition.
Finnis’s own view, which is a complex variant of natural law, is that the central set
of elements constituting an official’s acceptance of a rule of recognition, is a moral
acceptance of the rule. In this way, Finnis claims to have found a conceptual, logical
link between validity and morality. A similar sort of criticism of the rule of recognition
is to be found in the final Appendix to MacCormick’s Legal rights and legal reasoning.
You might note, too, that there is a strong connection between Finnis’s thesis and
Dworkin’s thesis that a proper legal theory must explain the moral force of law and
that a proper interpretation of law requires us to make the best moral sense of our
legal practices.
The other criticism is Dworkin’s criticism in Chapter 2 of Taking rights seriously. You
should read this in conjunction with Chapter 11 of this module guide, particularly
sections 11.2 and 11.3.
6.2.2 Dworkin’s criticism of the rule of recognition

Dworkin’s theory of judicial integrity is important and the difficulty is that, although he
writes in the same rigorous intellectual mould of Bentham, Kelsen, Hart and so on, he
is not a legal positivist. You have to be prepared for some very different ideas! The best
start is to read Chapter 2 of his Taking rights seriously. Since Hart is the set book, this
article is useful because it sums up in a very neat analysis what the rule of recognition
is, before going on to give a very well-known and much argued about criticism of
Hart’s theory.
The argument in a nutshell is as follows. If we take Hart at face value (and why not?)
the point of the rule of recognition, which we identify as a matter of ‘empirical fact’
is ‘to cure the defect of uncertainty’ in a society of primary rules alone. It follows that
any rule purporting to be a rule of law, can be identified with certainty (by applying
the test of identification of the rule of recognition). It follows that any rule purporting
to be a rule of law that cannot be identified with certainty is not a rule of law at
all. And so all ‘hard cases’, in other words all those cases in which it is controversial
what the law is, and almost all those cases that come before appellate judges do not
concern law at all. To take an example, if a statutory provision prohibits ‘vehicles’ from
a park, a purported rule of law that is relied on, say, by a prosecutor, that roller-skates
are prohibited from the park (this is Hart’s example, incidentally, from Chapter 2 of
his Essays in jurisprudence and philosophy), is not a rule of law at all, just because it is
controversial. Dworkin says three things follow from this:
uu the judge has to act as a legislator to make new law for the future on whether
roller-skates are prohibited or not, and this is contrary to what we suppose the
judicial role to be (judges are not elected to legislate)
uu the judge characteristically then applies that law to the defendant, and so this
would be retrospective legislation, which is unfair and not how we think judges act
uu judges must continually be mis-describing what they are doing, because they talk
as if they were ‘finding’ the law, rather than ‘legislating’ (and lawyers, law students,
etc., also talk in this way). So, concludes Dworkin, there must be something wrong
with the positivistic picture because it is useless when it comes to giving an

account of legal argument. And since legal argument clearly plays a central role in
all matters legal, positivism fails.
You need to get a firm grasp of what Dworkin is getting at in the idea of interpretation
before you can criticise him. He argues that there is no ‘descriptive’ sense of what a
rule means independent of making an interpretation of that rule. It is very common
to suppose that ‘vehicles are prohibited from the park’ says something very clear.
Certainly, Hart was of that opinion, and he usefully distinguished between the ‘core’
meaning of a rule – the uncontroversially clear meaning – and the ‘penumbra’ in which
there is a degree of uncertainty about what the law requires (see Chapter 2 of Hart’s
Essays in jurisprudence and philosophy). For understanding Dworkin two points need to
borne in mind:
uu Clear meanings are themselves only ‘clear’ because of some interpretation. So

in the above example, to say that these words ‘prohibit’, say, ten-ton trucks,
is to apply some understanding of the ‘point’ of the words in question, and
understanding the idea of a right to prohibit, means seeing the author of those
words in a particular light. After all, if you or I write on pieces of paper ‘vehicles
are prohibited from the park’, this does not create a legal prohibition. So, to
understand the words in a particular way is not merely to read them, but to
interpret them, because we have assigned point to them.
uu Unclear meanings really bring out the above. There is no answer to the question
‘what does “vehicles” include?’ in advance of an actual example and an argument.
Consider s.51 of the Adoption Act 1951. This section states:

If any person applies in the prescribed manner for his or her birth certificate, the Registrar-
General shall supply that person with the required certificate.
Now ask yourself what that statutory provision means. Does it apply to everyone? Does
it place an absolute duty upon the Registrar of Births to supply a birth certificate to
whomever applies for one in the correct manner? Or do you have to know the precise
facts first?
Now read R v Registrar of Births, ex parte Smith [1991] 2 QB 393. Smith was a mentally
disordered person who was in Broadmoor psychiatric hospital because he believed
that his ‘troubles’ were caused by his natural mother in placing him for adoption and
he had tried to murder one person, and successfully murdered another, because in
both cases he mistakenly thought his victims were his natural mother. (Broadmoor
is a secure psychiatric hospital situated about 70 km west of London.) He applied for
his birth certificate in order to find out who she was and, of course, there was clearly
evidence that he might cause serious harm to her. When you are faced with this
situation it seems much more difficult to say that section 51 clearly gives him a right to
his birth certificate, despite what the words say, because it is difficult to suppose that
Parliament intended to place the natural mother at such risk. After all, Parliament had
also declared the aiding, abetting, procuring and counselling of criminal offences to
be illegal, and handing this birth certificate to Smith would have been like handing a
gun and ammunition to someone who has made it clear that they intend to commit a
crime (this would be a classic case of procuring a criminal offence).
Summary
Finnis criticises Hart’s rule of recognition for its over-emphasis on identification
through empirical fact, raising the question whether some evaluative criteria are
required; if a moral evaluation (that, for example, the rule of recognition must serve
some moral function such as enabling us to lead our lives in a better way) is required,
then there will be a ‘necessary’ link between law and morality. Dworkin criticises the
rule of recognition because it leaves judicial reasoning outside the realm of law. Since
legal reasoning in hard cases is controversial, he says, the rule of recognition cannot
adequately identify the law to be applied.

uu outline the main arguments put by Dworkin in his criticism of the rule of
recognition theory
uu express your own opinion about the ‘ultimate’ criteria of legal validity,
supported by reasons.
6.3 The Postscript
Essential reading
¢¢ Hart, ‘Postscript’.
¢¢ Guest, S. ‘Two strands in Hart’s The concept of law’ in Positivism Today (1996).
This chapter concentrates on the detail of the Postscript to The concept of law in which
Hart counter-attacks Dworkin’s attack on legal positivism and his perceived attack on
Hart’s method of legal theory.
6.3.1 Hart versus Dworkin

Hart affirms that his theory was intended to be both descriptive and general, in the
sense that is not tied to any one particular legal system. By ‘descriptive’ he says that
he intended it to be morally neutral and with no justificatory aims. He says that this
is a radically different enterprise from that envisaged by Dworkin which, he says, is in
part evaluative and justificatory and addressed to a particular legal culture. Then he
says that because of these differences, he and Dworkin are not in conflict (Finnis has
maintained they are in conflict); it is just simply, so it seems, that they are each writing
with different aims in mind.
Further, Hart takes exception to Dworkin’s having labelled him as one of those linguistic
theorists guilty of the ‘semantic sting’. (The ‘semantic sting’ criticism, to be found
in Chapter 1 of Law’s empire, is that no adequate account of law can be based on a
description solely of how people speak (the truth conditions of law linguistic practices).)
Hart denies that he ever had such a theory and says that the charge confuses the
meaning of a concept with the criteria for its application. He clearly means by this
the distinction that Dworkin often makes between the elaboration of a concept and a
conception, with the clear implication that he (Hart) thinks that his theory allows for
the elaboration of a conception of law. This is interesting particularly in the way the
first four chapters of The concept of law develop, for there one would certainly be led
to believe that Hart’s aim was in fact to capture linguistic practices that are a plain
fact about the world. However, it becomes clear by the end of the book, especially
in the very important Chapter 9, that Hart is choosing between concepts (note the
telling sentence in that chapter when he discusses the Nazi grudge informer case:
plainly, we cannot grapple adequately with this issue if we see it as one concerning the
proprieties of linguistic usage).
Hart disagrees with Dworkin that the point or purpose of law or legal practice is to
justify coercion: ‘it certainly is not and never has been my view that law has this as its
point or purpose’ (p. 248). He refers, for example, to his invocation of the pre-legal
world and says that the proposed introduction of the secondary rules, of adjudication,
of recognition and of change, was not intended to answer any question about the
justification of the application of the coercive powers of the state.
Hart still maintains the view that the Nazi-type legal system, while undeniably of
moral wickedness, was nevertheless law since the various features it shares with
other modern municipal legal systems are too great for a universal-descriptive legal
theory to ignore. He points to Dworkin’s suggestion that such a legal system might
be described as such in his pre-interpretive sense and then says that Dworkin’s
concession there about the flexibility of legal language strengthens rather than
weakens the positivist’s case:
...it does little more than convey the message that while he insists that in a descriptive
jurisprudence the law may be identified without reference to morality, things are
otherwise for a justificatory interpretive jurisprudence according to which the
identification of the law always involves a moral judgment as to what best justifies the
settled law. (p. 271)
Consequently, in line with what Hart argues at first in his Postscript, that he is about
universal description and Dworkin is about justification of state coercive powers,
Hart rather reasonably concludes that, in characterising the Nazi legal system, he and
Dworkin are really talking at cross purposes.
You should think about the following problem with this account. To what extent can
you make sense of a human practice without being a person who is (as it were) part
of that practice? Let us take mathematics. Could you produce a descriptive account
of mathematics (what mathematics is; what it can achieve; what sorts of problems
it deals with; etc.) without yourself being a mathematician of some sort? It is easy to
imagine that the more versed in mathematics a person is, the better account that
person will give. Why? Because what is interesting about mathematics is what it is that
people who are engaged in it are doing – who better to give an account, then, than
someone engaged in mathematics? (Assuming they are capable of communicating
it!) There is a quicker way to this point: could a person who was unable to do even the
simplest arithmetical sums tell us anything at all about mathematics? Could a person
who was stone-deaf give us an adequate description of what music is? Well, in the case
of law, the more detached a person is (in Hart’s terms, the more external), the less rich
the explanation will become. Imagine that you suddenly find yourself in the role of a
Nazi judge. Nazism is contrary to your moral beliefs; how would you fare, do you think,
in interpreting immoral laws? It might not just be hard to get yourself into the Nazi
mind set, it might be impossible. What do you think? Does the analogy with engaging
in mathematics work?
6.3.2 Principles and the rule of recognition

Hart also thinks that Dworkin is wrong to suppose that there is such a sharp distinction
between rules and principles. Hart concedes there to be a difference in specificity and,
perhaps weight. But he thinks Dworkin exaggerates the differences and refers to the
Riggs v Palmer decision which Dworkin famously uses to show how principles decide
cases (see Taking rights seriously, Chapter 2). Hart thinks this decision shows clearly
not a clash between two principles but between a rule and a principle. Here you must
make up your own mind. Hart just asserts that there was a clear rule of succession that
a murderer could not inherit from the estate of the person he murdered; Dworkin
denies that there was any such rule but that there was a general principle (outweighed
in that case by another – that no man should profit from his own wrong), that the clear
words of a valid will should be closely adhered to.
Hart thinks that while large theoretical differences exist between Dworkin and himself
on this point, nevertheless they both share the view that there are certain basic facts
of legislative history which each of them thinks limit the application of law by judges:
‘...his explanation of the judicial identification of the sources of law is substantially the
same as mine’ (267). But the main difference, he says, lies in the fact that there are few
legal systems outside the US and the UK in which legal reasoning takes the form of the
all-embracing kind (holistic) that Dworkin says is involved in the idea of constructive
interpretation.
Activities 6.2–6.3
6.2 Provide and compare examples of legal rules and legal principles.
6.3 Read Riggs v Palmer. Was this a clash between a principle and a principle, or a
rule and a principle? Try to come to a conclusion about what is the better way to
explain the decision, giving reasons. In coming to your conclusion, make it clear
what the principles are, and if you think a rule is involved, say what the rule is.

6.3.3 Judicial discretion

Hart addresses the question of the difference between himself and Dworkin on the
question of how best the unregulated cases (as Hart appears to call hard cases) should
be resolved. His answer is straightforwardly assertive: he thinks that there are cases
where judges exercise their judicial discretion by acting as judicial law-makers and
he does not think that this poses a great threat to democracy. You must make up
your own mind: see, for example, whether you agree with the following statement:
‘...the delegation of limited legislative powers to the executive is a familiar feature
of modern democracies and such delegation to the judiciary seems a no greater
menace to democracy’ (p. 275). I find this remark disappointing in drawing insufficient
attention to the very great differences of role and function between the executive and
the judiciary. The executive must govern the community as a whole but we don’t think
that judges are like that at all. We think that they should concern themselves with the
merits of the dispute relating to the respective rights and duties of the parties before
them.
Hart also takes Dworkin to task for saying that it is a defect of legal positivism that it
supposes that judicial discretion in unregulated cases is retrospective in effect (which
Hart must concede happens if he allows for judicial law-making). He simply says that
if there were law there – in the cases, or the arguments, or whatever – as Dworkin
supposes, it wouldn’t be retrospective, true, but a decision made by the judge would
be just as surprising to the defendant as where the law is made by the judge (the
positivist position). A possible insight into the issue of whether judges make or only
apply the law is to suggest that they can do both: like a pianist playing a piece by
Beethoven, but doing so creatively. (The score is always the same, but the performance
is always different.)
Consider the following defence of Dworkin. Surely, if we are to choose between two
theories of adjudication, we must choose the one that says that, characteristically, the
judge is punishing (or awarding compensation or whatever) for acts which at the time
that they were done were against or within the law. The defendant who is surprised
by a decision that is the result of retrospective legislation is worse off in this sense
than the defendant who is surprised at a decision about the law existing at the time
he did the act. It is a simple matter of the rule of law: no one should be punished, or
whatever, unless there is a law which prohibited (or whatever) the act at the time that
it was done. This principle is frequently referred to as the nulla poena sine lege principle
(‘no punishment without law’). We could remember in this connection that it was this
principle which Hart so effectively invoked in the important Chapter 9 of The concept of
law.
Summary
In the Postscript, Hart repeats the line that is apparent in the early part of The concept
of law, that is, that legal theory involves a descriptive account of the concept of law. He
specifically denies that legal theory is interested in any questions of justification and
distinguishes himself from Dworkin on this ground. He also reaffirms his belief that evil
legal systems are as much law as moral legal systems.
Test your understanding of Hart’s positions by making brief summaries of:
1. the main line that Hart takes in his Postscript.
2. Hart’s views on:
a. the nature of legal theory
b. the idea of interpretation
c. the relationship between the rule of recognition and principles
d. the relationship between law and morality.


uu describe in general terms the position that Hart takes in the Postscript
uu give an account of the significance of the Postscript (a) for interpreting the main
doctrines of The concept of law and (b) for understanding law generally.

Question 1 Explain the role of the rule of recognition in Hart’s theory.
Question 2 ‘...the rule of recognition exists only as a complex, but normally
concordant, practice of the courts, officials, and private persons in identifying
the law by reference to certain criteria. Its existence is a matter of fact.’ (Hart, The
concept of law).
Discuss.
Question 3 ‘Dworkin’s theory is fundamentally a normative theory of law, offering
guidance to the judge as to his judicial duty. Hart’s is a descriptive theory, offered to
historians to enable a discriminating history of legal systems to be written.’ (Finnis)
Discuss.
Question 4 ‘Judges are not elected and so they should not make law’.
Discuss.
Question 5 How effective is Hart’s Postscript in meeting the objections of his
various critics?

Question 1 This requires looking at the reasons Hart gives for the rule of recognition
in terms of certainty (see section 5.5 of this guide). What ‘defect’ was the rule of
recognition supposed to ‘cure’? In Chapter 9 of The concept of law it is clear that
Hart wants the law to be distinct from morality for a practical purpose of a perhaps
different kind: he wants people to be able to see that the fact that some rule is legally
valid is ‘not conclusive of the question of obedience’. So the rule of recognition, by
defining law by reference to ‘actual empirical facts’, is pivotal in establishing Hart’s
legal positivism.
Questions 2 and 3 The focus of both of these questions is on the extent to which
Hart’s theory, particularly the rule of recognition (because it identifies the laws of a
legal system), is descriptive only. Obviously there are different emphases (in Question
2 it is more on the rule of recognition; in Question 3 is more on Hart’s linguistic-
descriptive method) but each question is fundamentally about the same point. Both
questions are relevant to a discussion of Dworkin’s discussion of interpretivism (see
Chapter 11 of this module guide).
Question 4 This is pretty straightforward but a start would be Dworkin’s criticisms of

the rule of recognition.
Question 5 To prepare for this question you should read thoroughly the Postscript
(best done towards the end of your year’s study in Jurisprudence, so that you have
absorbed by this time other approaches to Jurisprudence). Only at that point should
you consider whether his claims in the Postscript meet the criticisms (mainly
Dworkin’s). You might particularly concentrate on the way Hart argues for legal
positivism in his discussion of the Nazi informer case (and here you could refer to the
debate he had with Fuller (see Chapter 7 of this guide).
Reflect and review



I can describe the rule of recognition in detail.   
I can describe what Hart calls ‘the necessary and sufficient

conditions of the existence of a legal system’.   
I can explain the significance of the rule of recognition

for Hart for establishing his particular form of legal
positivism.   
I can discuss critically Hart’s claim that the rule of

recognition is identified as ‘a matter of fact’.   
I can outline the main arguments put by Dworkin in his

criticism of the rule of recognition theory.   
I can express my own opinion about the ‘ultimate’ criteria

of legal validity, supported by reasons.   
I can describe in general terms the position that Hart

takes in the Postscript.   
I can give an account of the significance of the Postscript

(a) for interpreting the main doctrines of The concept of
law and (b) for understanding law generally.   
revise?
Must Revision
revise done
6.1 Identifying the rule of recognition  
6.2 Criticism of the rule of recognition  
6.3 The Postscript  

Notes
7 Hart’s defences against natural law and Fuller’s
criticism
Contents
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94
7.1 Morality in the ‘penumbra’ of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95
7.2 The Nazi grudge informer and legal positivism’s virtue of clarity . . . . . 96
7.3 The eight principles of the ‘inner morality’ of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99
Reflect and review . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 102

Introduction
This chapter introduces you to positivist defences against the idea that moral
judgments are an integral part of the law. It is therefore a chapter closely connected to
Chapter 4 and you should re-read that chapter.
Learning outcomes
uu describe the main arguments of the Hart/Fuller debate
uu describe the realist criticism of positivism
uu discuss Hart’s methodology in Chapter 9 of The concept of law
uu discuss the so-called ‘grudge informer’ case
uu appreciate the significance of Fuller’s eight principles of procedural justice.
Essential reading
¢¢ Hart, Chapters 8 and 9.
[ISBN 9780199599134].
¢¢ Fuller, L. ‘Positivism and fidelity to law – a reply to Professor Hart’ (1958)

Harvard L.R. 630 (and see Freeman, Chapter 6: ‘Modern trends in analytical
jurisprudence’, pp.348ff. for extracts from both Hart and Fuller).
¢¢ Fuller, L. The morality of law. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1970)
[ISBN 0300010702].
¢¢ Hart, H. Essays in jurisprudence and philosophy. Essay 2: ‘Positivism and the

separation of law and morals’ and Essay 16: ‘Lon L. Fuller: the morality of law’.
Jurisprudence and legal theory 7 Hart’s defences against natural law and Fuller’s criticism page 95
7.1 Morality in the ‘penumbra’ of law

Hart produces several defences of positivism against the charge that it is impossible
for questions of legal validity not to be infiltrated by arguments about morality. (One
argument, not dealt with here as it is more appropriately dealt with in the discussion
of natural law in Chapter 4 of this module guide, is what is known as the ‘minimum
content of natural law’ thesis).
Hart’s argument against ‘legal realism’

The first important defence to be discussed here concerns Hart’s argument against
an American school of thought known as Legal Realism which expressed a particular
view about the nature of legal reasoning. It accused the positivists of being formalistic
and of ignoring the facts of adjudication and judicial lawmaking. The jurists of this
school said that the real law occurred in the courts, and that to insist upon a rigid
distinction between law and morality as positivism does simply ignores what judges
are doing when they come to their decisions. In these hard or difficult cases, where
litigants argued opposing points of view as to how a judge should decide, the realists
argued that there was a merger or intersection of law and morality. As you read the
texts, consider whether there is a difference between what the law is, and the words
that express it. It is a serious point that words, generally speaking, can’t put you in
prison, but law can! Take the case of Riggs v Palmer (see Chapter 6 of this module guide,
particularly sections 6.4.1 and 6.4.2, and Dworkin’s discussion of the case in Chapter 2
of Taking rights seriously. The beneficiary of the will murdered his grandfather to obtain
the benefit of the will, since he thought his grandfather was about to disinherit him.
Was there a ‘core’ meaning of the will that said he was the beneficiary? In one sense
there was. On the other hand, once we learn that he murdered the testator, doesn’t it
seem as though:
uu we are no longer talking about the meanings of words, but the rights those words
have a bearing upon, and
uu the case is one that raises a penumbra of doubt?
Hart says that it was a central insight of the realist school to draw attention to these
hard cases. Hart’s famous example is that of a legal rule which forbids us to take a
vehicle through the park. In the absence of judicial or statutory definitions of the word
‘vehicle’, such a rule plainly forbids a car, but does not plainly forbid or plainly permit
bicycles, roller-skates, or toy cars, or even helicopters. But, as Hart says:
if we are to communicate with each other at all ...that a certain type of behaviour be
regulated by rule, then the general words we use like ‘vehicle’ must have some standard
instance in which no doubts are felt about its application.
Hart says that there must be a core of settled meaning, as well as a penumbra of
debatable cases which will share some similarities but not others with the core. He
agrees that judicial decisions made in penumbral cases cannot be made as a matter of
logical deduction, because a decision has to be made whether to classify the item as
coming within the language of the enactment.
Hart sides with the realists in their denunciation of formalistic, deductive reasoning
in hard cases. But, he says, it does not follow from the fact that formalistic reasoning
is wrong in these areas of the law, that judges do in fact, or ought, to decide morally.
It is possible to make rational choices within the penumbra of rules in a legal system
dedicated to evil aims. He gives the example of sentencing in criminal cases. Here
there seem to be good grounds for saying that the judge must exercise moral
judgment in coming to his or her decision, for example, the judgments that society
should be protected from violence, that too much suffering should not be inflicted
upon the victims, that efforts should be made to enable the defendant to reform
himself, and so on.
You should note the addendum to this argument. Hart suggests that we perhaps
ought to be prepared, in the light of what the American realists say, to revise our
conception of what a legal rule is. Perhaps we should, he says, include in the idea of a
legal rule all the various aims and policies in the light of which all the penumbral cases
are to be decided, simply because their aims have as much right to be called law as
in the case of legal rules whose meaning is settled. We would then, he says, not talk
of judges coming to decisions in penumbral cases as debating what the law ought
to be and then deciding what the law should be for the future, but consider them as
discovering what the law is by drawing out of the settled meaning of the legal rule,
what is already latent in it.
This gives us a view of judicial decision-making that was essentially the same as deciding
what the settled meaning of a rule was, although involving a more complicated process
of extrapolating the law from the settled meaning. Hart rejects this idea, however. Hart’s
argument here, often overlooked, is useful to bear in mind when reading Dworkin on
legal argument in hard cases (see Chapter 11 of this module guide).
A question to ponder:
The sign on the escalator to the London tube (underground railway) at Chancery
Lane station instructs passengers that they ‘must carry dogs on the escalators’. Do
people who don’t carry dogs because they don’t have any dogs act contrary to this
instruction? If not, why not?
Summary
Hart says the American realist insistence that morality intrudes into the law through
judicial decision-making is mistaken because although it often does, it does not do so
necessarily. Just as often, immoral aims can intrude into the law in precisely the same
way.
7.2 The Nazi grudge informer and legal positivism’s virtue of

clarity
Essential reading† †
As you read the texts, ask
¢¢ Hart, Chapter 9: ‘Laws and morals’. yourself – and make notes on
– the following questions:
¢¢ Hart, H. Essays in jurisprudence and philosophy. Essay 2: ‘Positivism and the • What are the assumed, or
separation of law and morals’. hypothetical, facts of the
grudge informer case? (This
The grudge informer case arises in well-known debate between Professor Hart and
is very important: see The
Professor Lon Fuller of the Harvard Law School in 1958. The debate is a classic of
concept of law p. 254, and
modern jurisprudence, Hart taking the positivist line and Fuller the anti-positivist
the note relating to p. 204.)
natural law line.
• What is the nulla poena
Hart takes on the criticism of positivism of a German jurist called Gustav Radbruch. sine lege principle? Is it a
The history of Radbruch’s thought about law was that he was originally a positivist. moral, or a legal principle,
After his experience of the Germany of the 1930s and during the war, his views radically or both?
changed and he became convinced that legal positivism was one of the factors that • Why does Hart think that
contributed to Nazi Germany’s horrors. Among other things, he said, the German legal retroactive legislation is the
profession failed to protest against the enormity of certain laws they were expected to better decision in the Nazi
grudge informer case?
administer. In the light of this, Radbruch claimed that a law could not be legally valid
• What is the ‘Radbruchean
until (a) it had passed the tests contained in the formal criteria of legal validity of the
position’?
system, and, more importantly, (b) it did not contravene basic principles of morality.
• What does Hart’s response
This doctrine meant that, according to Radbruch, every lawyer and judge should to the grudge informer
denounce statutes that contravened basic principles of morality not just as immoral, case tell you about Hart’s
but as not having any legal character, that is, being legally invalid, and therefore methodology?
irrelevant in working out what the legal position of any particular plaintiff or
defendant was.
A general argument was used in several West German criminal cases involving
allegedly criminal acts of informing on other people during the Nazi period and
thereby securing their punishment by the Nazis. The form of the defences to these
alleged offences was that such actions were not illegal according to Nazi laws in
force at the time they were done. Hart refers to one of these cases and you can see an
account of it in (1951) 64 Harvard Law Review 1005.
You should be clear about the decision and the facts in this case, because it is often
completely misunderstood. The facts were that in 1944 the defendant denounced her
husband to the Gestapo for having said something insulting about Hitler when the
husband was home on leave from the German army. She had a ‘grudge’ against him –
such cases were not uncommon at the time. The husband was arrested and sentenced
to death in accordance with a Nazi statute that made it illegal to make statements
detrimental to the German government. In 1949, the wife was charged, in a West
German Court, with having committed the offence of unlawfully depriving a person
of his freedom which was a crime under the German Criminal Code of 1871, which had
remained in force continuously since its enactment. (The Nazi statute that had made
it illegal to make disparaging statements about the German government had been
repealed by 1949.)
The wife pleaded in defence that what she had done was lawful when she did it in
1944. That is, she had not unlawfully deprived her husband of freedom, because it was
made lawful by the Nazi statutes in force then. When the case came to the appeal
court, although the woman was allowed her appeal on other grounds, the court
accepted the argument that the Nazi statute would not have been valid if it were so
contrary to the sound conscience and sense of justice of all decent human beings. If
so, it would have followed that this statute did not make it lawful to deprive people
of their freedom when they denounced Hitler, so that, at the time the defendant
informed the Gestapo about her husband’s remarks, she could have committed an
offence under the German Criminal Code of 1871.
This reasoning is along the lines proposed by Radbruch. The Nazi statute had met the
formal tests laid down by the criteria of legal validity of the Nazi legal system, but
was nevertheless not law because it contravened fundamental principles of morality.
Hart is critical of the argument, which was apparently followed in a number of similar
cases. His short criticism, to be found in Chapter 9 of The concept of law, is that this is
too crude a way to deal with delicate and complex moral issues. The better way, he
says, to deal with the problem of punishing the Nazi informers under the law would
have been to do this by retrospective law declaring the Nazi statute to be invalid.
Then the woman in this particular case would have been criminally liable not because
when she did what she did it was illegal, but because a later statute made it illegal
retrospectively.
This way of looking at the problem of legally justifying punishing the woman, Hart
says, brings to view the full nature of the moral issues involved. His suggested way
of dealing with the matter brings another element into the equation of justification.
This is that, although he thinks it was wrong to do what the woman did, he also thinks
it wrong to punish a person when what they did was permitted by the state, that is,
was lawful. The moral principle here, and one endorsed by many legal systems, is that
of nulla poena sine lege (Latin for ‘no punishment without law’). The rationale of this
principle is that if you are acting within the law at any one time then it should not be
later declared that what you were doing was against the law.
Make sure you understand that Hart is not saying that this principle can never be
sacrificed to some other moral principle, but rather that a transgression of that
principle is part of the equation, and must be taken into account in determining
whether the woman should be punished. Hart says, for example,
Odious as retrospective criminal legislation and punishment may be, to have pursued it
openly in this case would at least have had the merits of candour. It would have made
plain that in punishing the woman a choice had to be made between two evils ...
Hart’s arguments can be summed up in his own words. What follows are his moral
reasons for preferring the wider, positivist conception of law that separates law from
morality by declaring all rules formally identifiable by reference to the factual test
of the rule of recognition. These quotations are also to be found in Chapter 9 of The
concept of law:
What surely is most needed in order to make men clear sighted in confronting the official
abuse of power, is that they should preserve the sense that the certification of something
as legally valid is not conclusive of the question of obedience …A concept of law which
allows the invalidity of law to be distinguished from its immorality enables us to see the
complexity and variety of these separate issues; whereas a narrow concept of law which
denies legal validity to such rules may blind us to them.
It is important to note how this section in The concept of law gives insights into Hart’s
approach, his methodology (see Chapter 2 of this module guide). The title of his
book The concept of law, and his Preface (in which he claims he is writing an essay on
descriptive sociology), suggest he aims to describe. But this section indicates that,
whether he is aware of it or not, he has other than descriptive grounds for choosing
the wider conception of law over the narrow. Perhaps he should have called his book A
conception (or theory) of law.
You should also be aware of the remainder of the Harvard Law Review debate, which
continues on the theme of Hart’s minimum content of natural law. Also you should
be aware of Fuller’s reply, well covered in the secondary sources, although well worth
reading in the original if you can obtain a copy. His book The Morality of Law is not long,
and provides insights and, above all, is readable. You should be aware of the internal
and external aspects of what he terms the law’s morality.
¢¢ Epstein, R. ‘The not so minimum content of natural law’ (2005) 25 Oxford Journal
of Legal Studies 219.
In a useful discussion, Richard Epstein expands the idea of the ‘natural minimum’ to go
well beyond maxims that tend towards human survival.
¢¢ Green, L. ‘The morality in law’ in L. Duarte d’Almeida, J. Edwards and A. Dolcetti

(eds) Reading H.L.A. Hart’s The concept of law. (Oxford: Hart Publishing,
2013) (a version is also available here: http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.
cfm?abstract_id=2223760).
Leslie Green makes an interesting point in relation to Hart’s argument that all law
contains a minimum moral content. He argues that where there is a legal system, it
will provide institutional support to morality through rules ‘oriented to a wide range
of morally important concerns’. Failing to do so, however, does not amount to a failure
to be a legal system altogether (therefore the minimum moral content argument not
undermining the basic positivist thesis regarding the separation of law from morality).
The New York University Law Review ((2008) 83 NYULR 993) has published the papers
from a symposium: The Hart-Fuller debate at fifty.
¢¢ Peter Cane (ed.) The Hart-Fuller debate in the twenty-first century. (Oxford: Hart
Publishing, 2010) [ISBN 9781841138947]
is another collection of interesting essays on the debate and its extensions in light of
developments over the past 50 years.
In fact, Fuller’s jurisprudence has enjoyed somewhat of a resurgence recently. Kristen

Rundle has produced a detailed account of Fuller’s work on the rule of law (also
drawing on biographical data).
¢¢ Rundle, K. Forms liberate: reclaiming the jurisprudence of Lon L Fuller. (Oxford: Hart
Publishing, 2012) [ISBN 9781849461047].
She also defends Fuller’s theses on the basis that, for Fuller, the rule of law flows from
respect for law’s subjects as moral agents with the capacity to reason practically.
¢¢ Green, L. ‘Positivism and the inseparability of law and morals’ (2008) 83 NYULR
1035
is an excellent discussion of the ways in which law and morality are related.
Summary
According to positivism, the grudge informer acted legally but immorally. According
to natural law, her immoral action did not afford her a legal defence. Hart says the
positivist way of understanding the position is better because it rightly allows the
grudge informer a defence. If that defence is morally weak in comparison with a moral
requirement that she be punished, a retrospective law will be necessary to remove the
defence altogether. The advantage of doing it this way will show that something – the
rule of law – is being breached in doing what, overall, is morally right. This argument
suggests that Hart thinks positivism must be justified by reference to its producing in
practice morally better results than natural law. If so, that implies that there is a moral
basis to his theory of positivism.
7.3 The eight principles of the ‘inner morality’ of law
Essential reading
¢¢ Fuller, L. The morality of law. (New Haven: Yale University Press,
1970) [ISBN 0300010702] 33–44; 91–151; 187–242.
¢¢ Guest, S. ‘Why the Law is Just’ [2000] Current Legal Problems 31.
¢¢ Hart, H. Essays in jurisprudence and philosophy. Essay 2: ‘Positivism and the

separation of law and morals’ and Essay 16: ‘Lon L. Fuller: the morality of law’.
As you are doing the reading:
Constantly ask yourself if Hart is really understanding the spirit of Fuller’s theory. If you
go through each of the eight (plus one) principles below, consider whether there is a
moral principle underlying each one. For example, why should laws be general? Here is
a suggested answer: if laws are general, then no person gets ‘special treatment’ and so
there is a principle of equality behind it. Try this with all of Fuller’s principles and then
try to formulate a general principle that encompasses them all. Does that principle
accord with any sense you have about the relationship between law and justice
(see Guest’s article, ‘Why the Law is Just’)? Does it say anything about the proper
relationship between the governors and the governed?
Hart’s well known criticism of Lon Fuller’s equally well known eight principles of the
inner morality of law must be understood. These principles, which loosely describe
requirements of procedural justice, were claimed by Fuller to ensure that a legal
system would satisfy the demands of morality, to the extent that a legal system
which adhered to all of the principles would explain the all important idea of fidelity
to law. In other words, such a legal system would command obedience with moral
justification.
Fuller’s key idea is that evil aims lack a logic and coherence that moral aims have. Thus,
paying attention to the coherence of the laws ensures their morality.
To remind you of the eight principles of the ‘inner morality of law’; laws should:
uu be promulgated
uu not be retroactive
uu be general
uu be clear
uu not be inconsistent
uu not require the impossible
uu be ‘congruent’ (consistent) with official action
uu be reasonably stable (that is, not change too frequently).
I have added a ninth article of my own, which takes the line that:
uu in the end, law is a scheme of justice.

7.3.1 Hart’s rejoinder to Fuller
Essential reading
¢¢ Hart, H. Essays in jurisprudence and philosophy. Essay 16: ‘Lon L. Fuller: the
morality of law’.
Hart’s criticism is that we could, equally, have eight principles of the inner morality
of the poisoner’s art (use tasteless, odourless poison; use poisons that are fully
eliminated from the victim’s body; etc.) Or we can improvise further. We can talk of
the principles of the inner morality of Nazism, for example, or the principles of the
inner morality of chess. The point is that the idea of principles in themselves with the
attendant explanation at a general level of what is to be achieved (racial cleansing as
a means to an end, the end being to enable the German race to ‘fulfil its destiny’) and
consistency is insufficient to establish the moral nature of such practices. The eight
principles are, says Hart, ‘compatible with great iniquity’.
What is unfortunate about Hart’s criticism is that it obscures Fuller’s point. This is
that there is an important sense of legal justification that claims made in the name of
law are morally serious. At the least, the person who makes a genuine claim for legal
justification of an immoral, Nazi-type legal system, must believe that there is some
moral force to his claim. At its best, we believe, that when we make some claim about
our law our claim carries some moral force. It is not enough simply to deny this. At
least some explanation is required for our belief that this is so if, in fact, we are wrong.

uu describe the main arguments of the Hart/Fuller debate
uu explain the realist criticism of positivism
uu discuss the so-called ‘grudge informer’ case
uu discuss Hart’s methodology in Chapter 9 of The concept of law
uu appreciate the significance of Fuller’s eight principles of procedural justice.
1. What are the main arguments of the Hart/Fuller debate?
2. What is the realist criticism of positivism?
3. What is the connection between the hard cases and the core/penumbra
distinction?
4. What was Radbruch’s solution to Nazi laws?
5. What is the nulla poena sine lege principle?
6. Discuss Hart’s methodology in Chapter 9 of The concept of law.

Question 1 Is the law necessarily moral? Compare Fuller’s view (the ‘internal
morality’ of the law) to Hart’s (the ‘minimum content of natural law’).
Question 2 What, if any, is the point of Hart’s Nazi grudge informer example?

Question 1 This is a general question about the relationship between law and
morality, and so directly on the point of legal positivism and the methodology
involved. You obviously need to be acquainted with the ‘minimum content of natural
law’ thesis of Hart and you should re-read Chapter 4 of this module guide for that.
But the question also requires an understanding of why Fuller advances his ‘internal
morality’ thesis, and so you need to try to get the sense of Fuller. This is best done by
being as critical as you can of Hart’s criticisms discussed above. Does Hart’s ‘minimum
content of natural law’ theory have any moral point to it? This writer thinks not, but
you must form your own view.
Question 2 This question, fairly common in one form or another, requires you to
consider the practical and moral reasons why Hart is so keen in the grudge informer
case, to preserve the nulla poena sine lege principle. Obviously, the hypothetical facts
of that case must be spelt out, and then a thorough and sympathetic understanding
of what Hart says in the latter part of Chapter 9 is required. Hart’s argument is on the
laboured side, and there is plenty of room for comment.
Reflect and review



I can describe the main arguments of the Hart/Fuller

debate.   
I can describe the realist criticism of positivism.   
I can discuss Hart’s methodology in Chapter 9 of

The concept of law.   
I can discuss the so-called ‘grudge informer’ case.   
I can appreciate the significance of Fuller’s eight

principles of procedural justice.   
revise?
Must Revision
revise done
7.1 Morality in the ‘penumbra’ of law  
7.2 The Nazi grudge informer and legal positivism’s virtue

of clarity  
7.3 The eight principles of the ‘inner morality’ of law  

8 Raz on practical reason and the authority of law
Contents
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 104
8.1 The paradox of authority and Raz’s ‘service’ conception of authority . . 105
8.2 The ‘normal justification thesis’ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107
8.3 Exclusionary reasons: the deliberative and executive phases of

practical reason . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 108
8.4 The authority of law and the limits of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110
8.5 The debate with soft positivists and Dworkin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 111

Introduction
You will recall from your study of Hart that one of the ways in which the law is not
simply the ‘gunman’ situation writ large is that the law is regarded as having authority
over its subjects, while the gunman has no authority over his victims. Joseph Raz is
probably Hart’s most important intellectual heir, and much of his work has been on
the nature of authority and the authoritative character of law. This work has been
revolutionary in political and moral philosophy as well as in the law, but in the law its
particular importance owes to the fact that, according to Raz, once the authoritative
nature of the law is appreciated, then the connections between morality and law can
be drawn more clearly, and this serves to vindicate many positivist theses about the
law, in particular Hart’s claim that judges exercise discretion in hard cases.
Learning outcomes
uu explain the paradox of authority and why Raz’s service conception of authority
seems to point the way to a solution of the paradox
uu explain Raz’s ‘normal justification thesis’ of authority, and say how authorities
may be justified in issuing directives to their subjects, and how they may fail to
justify authority over them
uu say what an ‘exclusionary’ reason is, and explain how it works as a device of
practical reasoning
uu using examples, explain how one can draw a distinction between the
deliberative and executive phases of practical reason, and explain the force and
scope of exclusionary reasons
uu describe in step-by-step fashion how applying Raz’s theory of authority to the
law results in the claim that the law cannot depend on moral truths, and that
typical legal systems empower judges to exercise a discretion to make new law
when the law makes reference to moral standards
uu explain how, if Raz’s theory of the authority of the law is correct, soft positivism
and Dworkin’s theory of law are undermined, and explain what possible
responses soft positivists and Dworkin might make.
Essential reading
¢¢ Penner et al., Chapter 10: ‘The current debate’ pp.427–72, or Freeman et al.,
Chapter 5: ‘Modern trends in analytical jurisprudence’.
Further reading
¢¢ Coleman, J. and Shapiro, S. (eds) Oxford handbook of jurisprudence and the
philosophy of law. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002) Chapter 3 (Andrei
Marmor), ‘Exclusive legal positivism’, Chapter 4 (Kenneth Himma), ‘Inclusive
legal positivism’, and Chapter 10 (Scott Shapiro), ‘Authority’.
¢¢ Dworkin, R. ‘Thirty years on; a review of Jules Coleman, The practice of principle’,
115 Harvard LR (2002), pp.1655–87.
¢¢ Penner, J. E. ‘Legal reasoning and the authority of law’ in Meyer, L. et al. (eds)
Rights, culture and the law. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003) [ISBN
0199248257] pp.71–97.
¢¢ Raz, J. The authority of law. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1979) [ISBN 0198254938]
especially Chapter 1: ‘Legitimate authority’ and Chapter 2: ‘The claims of law’.
¢¢ Raz, J. The morality of freedom. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1986) [ISBN 0198248075]
Part I: ‘The bounds of authority’.
¢¢ Green, L. ‘Three themes from Raz’ (2005) 25 Oxford Journal of Legal Studies 505.
Green usefully discusses Raz on discretion (also useful for Chapter 11), on authority and
on value pluralism (also useful for Chapter 14).
Jurisprudence and legal theory 8 Raz on practical reason and the authority of law page 105
¢¢ Raz, J. ‘Incorporation by law’ (2004) 10 Legal Theory 1.
Joseph Raz returns to his account of legal positivism, often called ‘hard positivism’
because it denies that law can be identified by use of moral judgment in any case.
He defends it against the ‘incorporationists’ who, while claiming that they are legal
positivists, concede that there are occasions when the law has to be identified by
moral judgment when some authorising legal instrument has ‘incorporated’ moral
judgment into the criteria for identifying law. Raz sums up his thesis in the following
sentence (p.17): ‘If morality applies to people and courts alike anyway, then we are all,
courts included, bound by it even before its incorporation.’
¢¢ Himma, K. ‘Just ’cause you’re smarter than me doesn’t give you a right to tell me
what to do: legitimate authority and the normal justification thesis’ (2007) 27
Oxford Journal of Legal Studies 121.
Kenneth Himma tackles Raz on the way in which the ‘normal justification thesis’
works. Roughly, Himma argues that the ‘pre-emptive’ nature of authoritative directives
cannot be justified by the normal justification thesis. Rather, at least in the normal
case, they at most justify giving authoritative directives great weight; giving them pre-
emptive weight is not justified in light of the loss of autonomy involved.
¢¢ Priel, D. ‘Trouble for legal positivism?’ (2006) 12 Legal Theory 225.
You might also have a look at this article, which argues that moral considerations
are the most plausible candidates for the evaluative considerations that positivists
acknowledge underpin the identification of legal norms.
¢¢ Raz, J. Between authority and interpretation: on the theory of law and practical
reason. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010) [ISBN 9780199596379].
Raz’s collection of essays contains much of his recent thought on law, morality and
authority, and the particularly important essay, ‘The problem of authority: revisiting
the service conception’ (originally published in (2006) 90 Minnesota Law Review 1003).
¢¢ Sherman, J. ‘Unresolved problems in the service conception of authority’ (2010)

30 Oxford Journal of Legal Studies 419.
¢¢ Darwall, S. ‘Authority and reasons: exclusionary and second personal’ (2010) 120
Ethics 257.
¢¢ Smith, D. ‘Must the law be capable of possession authority?’ (2012) Legal Theory 1.
¢¢ Raz, J. ‘On respect, authority, and neutrality: a response’ (2010) 120 Ethics 279.
The debate between Raz and his critics continues apace. For enthusiasts, these are
some of the more recent offerings.
¢¢ Raz, J. From normativity to responsibility. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011)

[ISBN 9780199693818].
is Raz’s most recent collection of essays.
¢¢ Martin, M. Judging legal positivism. (Oxford: Hart Publishing, 2014)

[ISBN 9781849460996]
is a book-length critique of Raz’s account of authority on the basis of its internal

consistency and coherence.
8.1 The paradox of authority and Raz’s ‘service’ conception of

authority
8.1.1 The paradox of authority

Authorities claim the right to tell us what to do or believe. A practical authority,
like the law, tells us what to do, e.g. stop at red lights. A theoretical authority, like a
physicist, tells us what to believe, e.g. that the universe is expanding. Often authorities
have a mixed role of telling us both what to believe and what to do, because, for
obvious reasons, how we act will often turn on what we believe. Thus a medical
doctor is both a theoretical and practical authority, in that if you are unwell he will
tell you both what is wrong with you (what to believe) and what drugs to take (what
to do). Religious authorities are also typically mixed authorities, telling you what to
believe about your God and what he (or she) wants, and therefore guiding your action.
The paradox of authority claims that following an authority is irrational, and goes
like this: if the authority tells you the right thing to do/believe, then you should do/
believe that anyway for the reasons which make it the right thing to do/believe. So the
authority’s saying it is the right thing makes no difference. And if the authority tells
you to do/believe something wrong, then you shouldn’t follow the authority for that
would lead you astray. The result is that authority seems to make no difference in any
case: if the authority tells you the right thing, it is redundant, for what is right is right
independently of anything the authority says, and if the authority tells you the wrong
thing, then you should not listen to it. If this is right, then there is never a justification
for following an authority. (People who accept this argument are called ‘philosophical
anarchists’.)
8.1.2 The service conception of authority

The traditional solution to the paradox of political authority resorts to an idea about
the legitimacy of power, but this solution is not very satisfactory in overcoming the
paradox. The justification for political authority is thought to arise because, it is
supposed (political anarchists would disagree with this), that things would be just
much, much worse if there were no political authority at all. The most famous of these
defences of political authority is that of Hobbes (see Chapter 3 of this guide), who
founded the legitimacy of the state on the supposed social contract by which men
could escape the state of nature, the ‘war of all against all’. But even the legitimacy
of democratic states, on this view, does not derive from the idea that the directives
of democratic states are any less redundant when they tell us the right thing to do,
and any less irrational to follow when they tell us the wrong thing to do. Although we
may believe that democratic states are likely to get it right more often than autocratic
states, the foundation of their legitimacy as authorities again turns on the idea that
they are the least bad way of keeping social order, and perhaps of enhancing people’s
life prospects. This is why these sorts of solutions are unsatisfactory; none touches the
basic issue, which is the rationality of following authorities.
Now, as an attentive reader, you might point out that the same sort of problem
does not seem to attend the case of theoretical authorities. The reason you listen
to a doctor is that he or she knows medicine and you don’t. Thus the doctor has
an understanding of the facts about your condition that you don’t, and so it would
seem perfectly rational for you to believe what he or she says about your condition.
Indeed, it would be irrational of you to ignore the doctor’s advice, because you are
serving your interests by learning what is wrong with you and how to deal with it. To
ignore the doctor would be equivalent to ignoring what a medical textbook, which
summarises centuries of laborious investigations by many people, says. Thus, if you
are to act rationally in the case of your illness, you will have to rely on knowledge and
understanding which you cannot acquire all by yourself. In this way, listening to the
authority serves your interests in the only way your interests can be served, and to
take advantage of the authority in this way is perfectly rational. This is the service
conception of authority which Raz capitalises on to explain the rationality of following
practical authorities like the law. For if the authority serves you by solving a problem
that you are not able or likely to solve yourself then it is obviously not irrational to
follow that authority, and this is so even if the authority sometimes gets it wrong, so
long as it is likely to get it right more often than you are yourself.
8.2 The ‘normal justification thesis’
8.2.1 The balance of reasons

Normally, when we reason about what to do (reason practically), we look at all the
reasons to act one way rather than another, and decide on the ‘balance of reasons’. I
may be hungry, and there’s a restaurant on the corner, which together indicate that I
should get something to eat there, but on the other hand, the restaurant is expensive
and I am skint† this week, and furthermore I am trying to eat healthily, and the †
Skint: slang word meaning
restaurant only serves various combinations of grease, starch, and ground meat. I ‘having no money’; there are
weigh up these opposing reasons, and decide what to do. Of course this is a simplified numerous slang synonyms
example, but the model of practical reason seems impeccable. The essence of Raz’s for this.
theory of authority is that an authority serves you by helpfully mediating between you
and the balance of reasons that apply to your situation.
8.2.2 The normal justification thesis

A doctor mediates between you and the facts which medical science has revealed and
which indicate how to handle your illness – the doctor doesn’t give you a short lesson
in medicine, revealing all those facts to you (though a good doctor tells you what is
wrong with you and gives you some idea of the nature of your condition); rather, he or
she gives you a prescription. Similarly, a legislature considers all the reasons that apply
in deciding, say, whether or not wills should be formalised by being written, signed
and attested by two witnesses, and then passes a law one way or another, which
everyone must now follow. An authority is legitimate when it actually serves you by
mediating between you and the reasons that apply to you in this helpful way, and
this is the normal justification thesis: an authority is justifiably an authority for you
when you are more likely to act correctly on the balance of reasons that apply to
you if you follow the directives of the authority than if you were to act on your own
assessment of the balance of reasons.
Activity 8.1
It is clear how a theoretical authority like a doctor meets the normal justification
thesis, for the doctor’s authority lies in his or her expertise. But the application of
the thesis is not so straightforward in the case of the authority of the law. On what
basis might the law be justifiably an authority over you? On the basis of expertise?
On some other basis? One of the things the law is said by many theorists to do is to
solve ‘coordination problems’ by creating ‘conventions’, i.e. to lay down a common
rule where no one particular rule is required but a common rule is, such as the rules
requiring one to drive on the left side of the road in some countries, but on the
right in others. What might give the law authority to criminalise rape and theft? To
punish crimes like rape and theft? To make traffic regulations? To impose taxes? To
require the wearing of safety belts?
Make notes on these questions.
Summary
The ‘paradox of authority’ states that it is irrational for anyone to follow an authority,
because what is right to do or believe is never determined by what an authority says.
Raz’s ‘normal justification’ thesis purports to dissolve the paradox, by pointing out
that it is rational to follow an authority if the authority is in a better position than you
to understand the reasons that apply to you, an obvious example being the case of a
doctor and patient.
8.2.3 The scope of authority

It is one of the features of Raz’s account of legitimate authority that the law does not
have equally justified authority over all of its subjects in all areas of law. It would, for
example, have no justified authority over a road safety expert regarding the wearing
of safety belts. And it may have very little authority over any of us when it purports to
lay down laws concerning sexual morality. Some view this as a defect of Raz’s account,
for the law appears to claim equal authority over all in all areas that it regulates, and
this would suggest that the legitimacy of an authority is an all-or-nothing proposition.
But others find this aspect a virtue of Raz’s account. The law, by its nature, claims
authority in all it does, but it is also generally believed that the law does not have
equal authority in all the areas it chooses to regulate. For example, many people do
not think the state has any authority to deny people pleasures that cause no harm to
others, such as gambling, using prostitutes, or taking drugs, while perfectly accepting
the law’s authority to punish crime and regulate traffic.

uu explain the paradox of authority and why Raz’s service conception of authority
seems to point the way to a solution of the paradox
uu explain Raz’s ‘normal justification thesis’ of authority, and say how authorities
may be justified in issuing directives to their subjects, and how they may fail to
justify authority over them.
8.3 Exclusionary reasons: the deliberative and executive phases

of practical reason
The notion of authority fits into a broader, more general picture of practical reasoning
which Raz constructs. The core element of that picture is the ‘exclusionary’ reason.
Recall that normally, when reasoning what to do, we act rationally if we decide on
the balance of reasons. We have seen, however, that sometimes we should follow
the directive of an authority rather than decide on the balance of reasons ourselves.
When we do this, we take the authority’s directive as an ‘exclusionary reason’. By that,
we mean that we follow the directive, not the balance of reasons as we have assessed
it – the authoritative directive is a reason for acting which excludes our acting on the
balance of reasons directly.
8.3.1 Separating the deliberative and executive phases of practical

reason
What exclusionary reasons† do is provide a means to allocate the deliberative and †
Think of exclusionary
executive phases of practical reason to different occasions or different people or both. reasons as a certain
The ‘deliberative’ phase of practical reason is the consideration and weighing up of the technique of practical
reasons that bear on the issue, and coming to a decision about what to do. The reason which is employed in
‘executive’ phase is acting on the basis of that decision. Consider the procedures of a committee decisions, judicial
body like a student law society, deciding how much to subsidise tickets to its summer decisions, and much else.
ball. Various factors are considered, such as how much money the society has, what
other projects the money could be spent on, how many extra students a subsidised
ticket price will attract, and so on, and decides on a subsidy, perhaps by majority vote.
This decision ends the deliberative phase of the practical reasoning process.
Now we pass to the executive phase: the various officers of the society organising the
ball must now treat the issue of the subsidy as decided, and implement the society’s
decision. They must treat the society’s decision as an exclusionary reason governing
their behaviour; they must not re-consider all the factors that went into the decision
and then act on what they themselves would decide. If they did that, the society’s
decision would have been pointless, for it would not, practically speaking, have
decided anything. Exclusionary reasons work in the same way in respect of judicial
decisions. Lawyers for the parties are entitled to make representations to the judge,
but once the judge decides, the deliberative phase is over, and the parties must then
act on what the judge orders, taking his decision as an exclusionary reason. If the
parties were free to act on what they thought was the right result in law, it would
defeat the whole purpose of bringing the dispute to court. Similarly, when Parliament
passes a law following debate, the law must henceforward be taken as an exclusionary
reason for action by the subjects of the law. In this way, the separation of the
deliberative and executive phases of practical reason and the issuing of exclusionary
reasons provides for the coordination of behaviour by different people who share
general goals and values but where it is unlikely that this coordination can be achieved
by people acting on their own assessment of all the relevant facts.
Activity 8.2
How does the notion of an exclusionary reason explain the binding force of
promises?
8.3.2 The force and scope of exclusionary reasons

Authorities have the right to issue authoritative directives based upon their
deliberation on the relevant facts. They are justified in doing so (often they are not –
not all de facto authorities are justified, or de jure, authorities) when their directives
are more likely to reflect the balance of reasons than are their subjects deliberating on
their own. But it is important to notice the nature of exclusionary reasons in order to
understand their force and scope.
In the first place, exclusionary reasons replace all the reasons that would otherwise
be balanced in coming to a decision, because the exclusionary reason represents
those reasons as the conclusion of a deliberation which took those reasons into
account. Thus it is wrong to think that an authority’s directive is just another reason
for a subject of the authority to add to the balance of reasons as he or she considers.
That would be to double-count reasons – the authoritative directive has already taken
all the reasons into account, and so can’t be added to them in any rational fashion
by a further balancing exercise. This explains the ‘peremptory’ force of exclusionary
reasons – they are meant alone to determine what is to be done.
But exclusionary reasons concern action, not thinking. Nothing in the exclusionary
reason stops a subject from considering the balance of reasons, or speaking about
them, so long as the subject accepts that he or she is not entitled to act on those
deliberations. This is clear in the way that politicians accept the authority of the law.
Opposition parties often continue to criticise a law long after it has got onto the
statute book, but they do not, typically, counsel the subjects of the law to break the
law because they believe it is wrong. And when, rarely, they do so, it is regarded as
defying the authority of the law, and this is taken extremely seriously.
Finally, exclusionary reasons have scope. They only cover those reasons which were
considered in the deliberative process. This is why the discovery of significant new
evidence is grounds for upsetting a trial decision, though obviously it is no easy matter
to decide what counts as significant. No trial could be determinative if its decision
could be upset by pointing out insignificant or minor facts which were not brought
to the court’s attention. Similarly, exclusionary reasons are not exclusionary to the
extent that the process of deliberation was somehow faulty, if, for example, the judge
was drunk, or a clear error of reason is evident. (A clear error is not the same thing as a
great error – a clear error is one in which it is obvious that something has gone wrong,
as, for example, if a judge applied a statute that had been repealed.)

uu say what an ‘exclusionary’ reason is, and explain how it works as a device of
practical reasoning
uu using examples, explain how one can draw a distinction between the
deliberative and executive phases of practical reason, and explain the force and
scope of exclusionary reasons.
Summary
Practical reasoning can be broken down into two stages, the deliberative and the
executive, i.e. the stage at which a decision is made what to do, and the stage at which
that decision is implemented. Decision-making bodies like committees are authorities in
that the results of their deliberations are taken as exclusionary reasons which are meant
thereafter to govern the actions of those people subject to them. This analysis shows
how authorities are an important kind of technique or device of practical reasoning in
social contexts. The directives of authorities have the force of the balance of reasons their
deliberations represent, and have a scope limited by those reasons. Directives lose their
exclusionary force due to faults in the procedure by which they were arrived at.
8.4 The authority of law and the limits of law

As we have seen, Raz’s theory of authority and the normal justification thesis explain
how the paradox of authority can be overcome, so that it can be rational to follow
an authority’s directives. We have also looked at some of the bases upon which the
law might claim to have authority, such as expertise, the ability to solve coordination
problems by setting conventions, and so on. Now we must look at how this theory of
the authoritative nature constrains what counts as a good theory of the law.
8.4.1 The law claims authority

You will recall from Chapter 4 that a theory of law must take into account how
the officials and subjects of the law conceive the law, for the law is an intentional
practice, and what people think they’re doing is part of what defines what they’re
doing: explaining what chess is involves explaining that the players understand
the moves as moves in a game, as opposed to, say, pushing oddly shaped figures
around a chequered board to make pretty patterns. It is indisputable that the law
claims authority, i.e. it claims the right to lay down rules which subjects of the law
are expected to comply with, whether or not those subjects believe the law is just or
unjust, wise or foolish. This claim is reflected every day in the practices of legislators,
judges, lawyers and legal subjects. Under Raz’s theory of authority, this is a claim by
the law to mediate between the balance of reasons and its subjects, by deliberating
on the balance of reasons and laying down rules for its subjects to follow. Different
legal systems manifest different attitudes to, and procedures for dealing with, civil
disobedience, but when the law treats civil disobedience differently from normal
criminal behaviour, it claims to decide this for itself – this is an expression, not a self-
denial, by the law of its supreme authority.
8.4.2 The limits of law

Because the law has this authoritative character, the law is limited by the bounds
on what can constitute an authority. In particular, the law is a body of authoritative
directions. Thus a law cannot serve as a law unless it can serve as an authoritative
direction. From this apparently straightforward consequence of the authoritative
nature of law, Raz draws a very significant conclusion – what the law is on any
particular point cannot depend upon moral arguments or what morality would dictate
to be the right answer. The argument proceeds as follows:
1. In order for an authority to be an authority at all, it must be capable of mediating

between the balance of reasons and its subjects.
2. The way an authority mediates in this way is to deliberate over the balance of
reasons, and then lay down a directive (which can be more or less vague, e.g. a rule
or a more general principle) which guides the behaviour of its subjects.
3. An authoritative directive does not work, i.e. cannot be authoritative, if it does

tell the subjects what they are to do; in particular, it doesn’t work if its effect
is merely to make them weigh up the balance of reasons by themselves. So for
example, when one is faced with a moral dilemma, such as whether to take up a
career opportunity that will take one away from one’s family a great deal, a moral
directive to ‘do the right thing’ is useless as an authoritative directive, because it

doesn’t provide any guidance to the subject as to what to actually do. It merely
instructs the subject to weigh the balance of reasons. Authoritative directives must
make a practical difference to their subjects.
4. With respect to the law, the law is only authoritative when it tells its subjects
in more or less specific terms what to do. If a directive requires the subject
to determine for himself what ‘the law’ requires, then the law is not being
authoritative, and such a directive would not count as law. It follows that a law
which requires the subject to act according to what morality dictates is not
authoritative, not really a legal directive, because morality is controversial and in
order to sort out what this ‘law’ is, the subject will have to weigh all the relevant
considerations himself to determine what to do.
5. Nevertheless, there are directives of this kind in the body of law. The law may
require its subjects to act ‘fairly and reasonably’ in certain circumstances, or
perhaps in a bill of rights, state that a law will be ineffective in so far as it violates
the right to life, for example. Most commentators accept that determining what
these directives demand will require resort to moral argument, and thus on Raz’s
view these can not be authoritative demands imposing duties on subjects of
the law to act in certain ways. How, then, are they to be understood – as power-
conferring laws? Irrespective of the form in which they are stated, what these laws
authoritatively direct, or authoritatively accomplish, is to confer powers on judges
to make orders based upon their understanding of what these moral requirements
are, and if the system treats judicial decisions of higher courts as sources of
law, then judges in these higher courts will lay down specific laws as a result of
exercising this power to decide on the basis of the judge’s grasp of morality.
6. The basis of this argument is the truism that ‘you can’t do what you can’t do’.
Try as it might, an authority cannot direct behaviour if the behaviour it wants
to direct cannot be specified. The problem is not peculiar to the controversial
nature of morality – the law could be made to turn on whether Goldbach’s
conjecture (that every even number greater than 2 is the sum of two primes) is
correct, or whether the universe is expanding, although it’s difficult to envisage
such cases. Thus the problem is the general one of the law’s making reference
in its authoritative directives to issues or matters which can only be dealt with
by further deliberation. Such directives necessarily fail to allow the subject to
proceed to the executive phase of practical reason; in which case, they aren’t truly
authoritative directives. The most such directives can do in a system of regulation
such as the law is to empower judges to make actual orders in cases or, if they are
entitled to make law, lay down actual, workable, directives, within the constraints
of the power, e.g., so long as the order or new law is reasonably within the bounds
of what is ‘just and fair’.
Activity 8.3
Read the excerpt from Raz in Penner et al., pp.457–65, or in Freeman, Chapter 6:
‘Modern trends in analytical jurisprudence’, pp.465–482. Explain in your own words
how Raz applies his theory of the authority to the law and concludes that judges
have discretion. Can you think of any ways in which this conclusion might be
challenged?
8.5 The debate with soft positivists and Dworkin

Soft positivism is the view that while the law need not ever incorporate moral criteria
into the law, it can do so. Notice this claim is not Raz’s claim, that law can make
reference to morality and so empower judges with a discretion to resolve cases; †
For detail of Dworkin’s
rather, it is the claim that the law incorporates what is morally right. Thus soft theories, and his ideal ‘Judge
positivism is also sometimes called ‘incorporationalism’ or ‘inclusive legal positivism’. Hercules’, see Chapter 11 of
It has clear affinities with the theory of Dworkin,† though Dworkin believes that the law this guide.
is always ultimately dependent on what is morally right, such that any apparent law
might turn out not to direct the subjects in the way it apparently does, for it is always
theoretically possible that a new legal argument drawing upon a superior Herculean
moral/political theory of justice could show the law always to have been mistakenly
understood in the past.
If Raz is right about the authoritative nature of the law, then both these theories are
thwarted for, according to Raz, the law cannot be authoritative in so far as the law
is not specified to its subjects prior to their getting to court, and because morality
is controversial, reference to morality ensures that the law is unspecified. In order
to decide what to do, the subjects of the law must deliberate themselves and,
furthermore, their conclusions must be uncertain, for there is no guarantee that the
court will decide the same way. For these reasons, such laws can only be construed as
conferrals of power on judges to decide cases based on their own views as to what is
morally right.
One might respond to this by taking very seriously the form in which laws are cast.
The law typically directs its subjects to act justly or reasonably, and it would violate
the sense of these laws to construe them as giving powers to judges. If this argument
is taken up, it leads one to suspect that Raz’s theory of authority has gone wrong
somewhere, and a critic should try to specify where.
Recently Dworkin (in his article ‘Thirty years on’, 2002) has attacked Raz’s theory of
authority with the following argument: Raz is wrong to claim that in our ordinary
understanding of authority, an authoritative directive cannot incorporate a moral
standard, and that issuing such a directive would not make a practical difference
to the behaviour of its subjects. For they would now be required to reflect carefully
on the moral standard the law imposes before they act; thus the law would make a
practical difference to their behaviour, and they would claim they were following the
law when they acted on the basis of this reflection. Presumably Raz would reply in the
following way: True, the directive in this case has made a practical difference, but not
the right one. The law did not require its subjects to reflect on morality before acting,
such that if they did so they would be regarded as complying with the law; rather,
the law required them to act on the moral standard as correctly understood. There is
nothing the subject can do to ensure that they comply with that. They are not relieved
of liability if they prove that they reflected on the standard before acting, and so the
practical difference in their behaviour is not matched by what the law tells them to do.
Therefore to treat this law as an authoritative directive must be mistaken.
As a conclusion, Raz’s general antipathy to the position of the soft positivists and
Dworkin can be framed in this way: Raz thinks it is absurd to say that what the law is,
i.e. what it is right now and what binds the subject of the law, may be something no
one has ever thought of before, including the legislature and all the judges. It might
be something completely unpredictable from the point of view of the legal subject.
Yet this is what the soft positivists and Dworkin believe, for in tying what the law is to
what the truth of morality is, the law is as open-ended as the ultimate moral truth is. It
would be as absurd to say that the law right now might be what science may discover
the ultimate truth of the universe to be. No one can direct their behaviour on this
speculative basis, no matter in what way laws are framed. By pointing to the facility
of judges to decide all cases before them, though constrained by moral and other
values, Raz attempts to show how typical legal systems normally empower judges not
only to apply the law, but to modify or expand it or otherwise make new law to meet
particular cases.
Summary
For an authoritative directive to be valid, it must be possible to follow it according
to its terms without having to resort to deliberating about the problem the directive
was created to solve. According to Raz, laws which make reference to what morality
requires are invalid as authoritative directives, for they require subjects of the law to
‘solve the problem’ themselves, for they will themselves have to weigh up the moral
reasons in play. Thus laws making reference to what morality requires can only be
understood as directives empowering judges to give concrete orders in particular
cases, or to create concrete laws, orders or laws which can be followed by people
without further deliberation. Since it seems all legal systems contain laws of this kind,
it follows that all legal systems empower judges to do this, which vindicates Hart’s
claim that judges typically have the power to exercise their discretion to make law in
certain cases.

uu describe in step-by-step fashion how applying Raz’s theory of authority to the
law results in the claim that the law cannot depend on moral truths, and that
typical legal systems empower judges to exercise a discretion to make new law
when the law makes reference to moral standards
uu explain how, if Raz’s theory of the authority of the law is correct, soft positivism
and Dworkin’s theory of law are undermined, and explain what possible
responses soft positivists and Dworkin might make.

Question 1 ‘Raz’s theory of authority completes Hart’s project, for it explains
the importance of Hart’s secondary rules, in particular the rule of recognition, as
devices of practical reasoning that makes the institution of law effective.’ Discuss.
Question 2 What are the reasons for and against the claim that judges typically
have a discretion to make new law in ‘hard’ cases?

Question 1 This question requires a brief recapitulation of Hart’s theory of law, in
particular as framed as the union of primary and secondary rules, and his explanation
of the different rules of duty-imposing and power-conferring rules. This should be
followed with an examination of how this fits with Raz’s theory of authority as a device
of practical reason, showing how the analysis of practical reason into deliberative
and executive phases illuminates the way legislatures and judges act, and how their
directives can be taken as exclusionary reasons for action. As the question suggests,
the rule of recognition should be given particular attention: contrasting with Hart’s
original claim that the rule of recognition is power-conferring, Raz claims it imposes a
duty upon officials to identify laws of the system. Given the peculiar nature of the rule
of recognition, as essentially a matter of fact but at the same time the chief rule of the
legal system, the rule can be seen to embody, or be the clearest manifestation of, the
claim to authority that the law makes, i.e. that it determines what shall be regarded as
an authoritative directive applying to its subjects.
Question 2 This will involve a discussion of Hart’s and Dworkin’s views, and the views
of any theorist, like Coleman, who has argued in detail for the soft positivist position,
and will require a weighing of these views against those of Raz. The general structure
of Dworkin’s theory, including his reference to the ‘rights thesis’, the ‘right answer
thesis’, and the role that moral and political theory plays in Hercules’ adjudicatory
technique should be discussed. Raz’s theory of authority should be presented in
outline, but his argument that judges typically have the power to make law where the
law is unsettled should be presented in detail.
Reflect and review



I can explain the paradox of authority and why Raz’s

service conception of authority seems to point the
way to a solution of the paradox.   
I can explain Raz’s ‘normal justification thesis’ of

authority, and say how authorities may be justified in
issuing directives to their subjects, and how they may
fail to justify authority over them.   
I can say what an ‘exclusionary’ reason is, and explain

how it works as a device of practical reasoning.   
I can, using examples, explain how one can draw a

distinction between the deliberative and executive
phases of practical reason, and explain the force and
scope of exclusionary reasons.   
I can describe in step-by-step fashion how applying

Raz’s theory of authority to the law results in the claim
that the law cannot depend on moral truths, and that
typical legal systems empower judges to exercise a
discretion to make new law when the law makes
reference to moral standards.   
I can explain how, if Raz’s theory of the authority of

the law is correct, soft positivism and Dworkin’s theory
of law are undermined, and explain what possible
responses soft positivists and Dworkin might make.   
revise?
Must Revision
revise done
8.1 The paradox of authority and Raz’s ‘service’ conception

of authority  
8.2 The ‘normal justification thesis’  
8.3 Exclusionary reasons: the deliberative and executive

phases of practical reason  
8.4 The authority of law and the limits of law  
8.5 The debate with soft positivists and Dworkin  

9 Practical reason and law
Contents
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116
9.1 What is a norm? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117
9.2 Standard classifications of norms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119
9.3 The Hohfeldian characterisation of legal norms . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121
9.4 Following rules . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124
9.5 The variety of hard cases . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126

Introduction
This is a ‘nuts and bolts’ chapter, which is largely aimed at getting you to acquire a
more sophisticated understanding of terms and ideas that you will already be very
familiar with from your life in general and your legal study so far. While you no doubt
use the words ‘right’ and ‘rule’ all the time, here we will look carefully at the way rights
and rules work, and consider some of the philosophical puzzles to which they have
given rise.
Learning outcomes
By the end of this chapter and the relevant reading you should be able to:
uu explain what a norm is, and the way in which rules, rights, duties and powers are
norms, drawing upon Raz’s theory of ‘exclusionary reasons’
uu explain what the terms ‘general’ and ‘special’, ‘in personam’ and ‘in rem’ mean
when applied to norms
uu explain the differences between the ‘will’ or ‘choice’ and ‘interest’ theories of
rights
uu explain in outline the Hohfeldian concept of legal norms, in particular its
emphasis on correlativity, and be able to explain each of the eight foundational
elements and point out some of the theory’s shortcomings
uu explain Hart’s ‘practice’ theory of rules and its deficiencies
uu describe how trying to understand how we follow rules can give rise to a
philosophical paradox, what rule scepticism is, and explain how Wittgenstein’s
ideas might contribute to resolving these problems
uu explain the classical notion of equity
uu give examples of different sorts of hard cases, explain why they can give rise
to theoretical difficulties, and suggest the different ways in which judges and
lawyers can respond to them.
Essential reading
¢¢ Penner et al., Chapter 13: ‘Hohfeld and the analysis of rights’, pp.595–647, and
Chapter 14: ‘Legal reasoning’ pp.649–717.
¢¢ Freeman et al., Chapter 5: ‘Modern trends in analytical jurisprudence’.

Jurisprudence and legal theory 9 Practical reason and law page 117
9.1 What is a norm?

As this section will draw upon what you learned in Chapter 8 on Raz’s theory of
exclusionary reasons, it is best to review section 8.3 now.
A ‘norm’ in the broadest sense is nothing more or less than a standard against which
human behaviour or some other event is assessed. In statistics, one speaks about
a norm as a ‘central tendency’ in a data set, or of a ‘normal’ distribution. In law and
morality, however, norm has a more particular meaning: a ‘norm’ is a standard with
which we expect someone to comply and by which we judge someone’s behaviour in
moral or legal terms. Thus norms have a dual aspect, though an internally related one,
of both guiding behaviour and being used as a standard for judging behaviour.
9.1.1 Rules and orders

The most obvious cases of norms are rules and orders. Although the distinction is
vague at the borderline, rules are usually conceived of as general directives that apply
to more than one instance, such as the law requiring income earners to pay income
tax. They are obviously normative, in that they guide the behaviour of subjects of the
legal system, who are in turn judged by whether or not they comply with the rule.
In contrast, orders are usually ‘one-off’ norms that guide the behaviours of one or a
defined set of persons on one occasion, as, for example, a judge’s order to a defendant
to pay the plaintiff £1,000, or a lieutenant’s order to his platoon to charge the enemy’s
position. In Razian terms, both rules and orders are to be taken as exclusionary reasons
by the persons to whom they are directed.
9.1.2 Rights
Rights are norms expressed from the perspective of the individual. It is possible in
some cases to translate a norm framed in terms of a right or power into a rule: for
example, the right to life is easily treated as equivalent to a rule prohibiting killing.
Yet the formulation of norms in terms of rights has a point, not only because it allows
for simpler descriptions of the way particular norms guide behaviour and serve as
standards for judging behaviour, but because rights frame norms in terms of the
interests of individuals which justify the existence of those rights. Unlike rules, then,
rights tend to name the interest or value which is the reason why the right exists, as in
the right to life or free speech or to be paid £10 for services rendered under a specific
contract.
Rights are normative in an obvious way, in that rights correlate with duties. (We will
look at the correlativity of rights with duties in greater detail, in section 9.3.) If I have a
right, then someone must be under a duty to guide their behaviour in some respect of
the interest the right names. Thus my right to life entails that others are under a duty
to act taking into account my interest in life; typically, by not taking my life. Notice
that because rights tend merely to name an interest, they rarely specify on their face
the exact contours of the right–duty relationship that defines what the right really
amounts to. The right to free speech is not a right to say anything you want at any
time, for there are laws of secrecy and laws of defamation and laws against speech
which incites racial hatred. Your right, then, does not extend to a correlative duty on
the government to respect your speech when you break any of these laws, and so a
right to free speech does not encompass a right to defame someone. In general then,
we see the normativity of rights in terms of the normativity of their correlative duties.
Indeed, this must be the case in terms of those rights which do not protect anything
the right-holder might do, but rather a state or position he’s in, such as being alive (the
right to life) or being unharmed and unrestrained (the right to bodily security). You
cannot exercise your right to life as you can your right to free speech. Of course, there
may be good moral as well as legal reasons for doing this – can you think of any? Hint:
consider the value of autonomy.
But in regard to those rights which can be exercised, rights to free speech or religion
or assembly, and so on, which are all rights to liberties, rights can be normative in
another way, in that they can be seen to establish a standard on the behaviour of the
right-holder, which can guide his behaviour and by which he can be judged. Because
rights are instituted to protect the interests of individuals, they entitle individuals to
act in reference to their own interests. In particular, to return to Razian terms, they
entitle (though they do not require) individuals to decide to act solely on the basis
of their own interests, rather than on a more general ‘balance of reasons’ which takes
into account the interests of others. This is particularly clear in the case of legal rights.
On the balance of reasons, it might be immoral for you to post naked pictures of
yourself on the internet, but nevertheless you have the legal right to do it. It is in this
sense that exercising your rights can appear to be selfish or at least self-centred, and
it also explains the idea of having a ‘right to do wrong’. In this sense, the normative
impact of the institution of rights to liberties is to lower the standard by which people
must act, and would otherwise be judged, from that of acting on the whole balance of
reasons, to acting only on the balance of reasons that affect their own interests.
As we have seen with the right to free speech, the existence of the right does not mean
it is an unlimited right. Specific restrictions upon a right may be instituted for the very
reason that an unlimited entitlement to act only on the basis of your own interests is
incompatible with social order – note that I did not say ‘incompatible with the rights of
others’ – this is a common but mistaken formulation. We could all have equal rights to
kill each other. The problem in such a situation is not that our rights are not equal, but
that it would give rise to complete social disintegration. All systems of rights reflect
some general sense of the limits that must be imposed on allowing individuals to act
purely on their own sense of their own best interests, in order to preserve a working
or, more hopefully, flourishing, social order.
9.1.3 Powers
A power is a normative capacity or ability to create, alter or abolish the norms (rights,
rules, duties or other powers) that would otherwise apply to oneself or others. A
legislature has the power to make new laws, or amend or abolish old ones. A judge
has the power to make orders. Individuals have the power to enter into (and agree
to terminate) contracts, make wills, and so on. Unlike rights, which can be to states
of affairs such as being alive, powers are always powers to do something; powers
are exercised. Powers are often confused with rights to liberties, but they are very
different. One may have certain powers in respect of which one has no entitlement
to consider one’s own interests at all – some powers are entirely governed by one’s
duties. A judge has the power to issue orders, but this power is governed entirely by
the duties of the office.
Of course, it is in one sense true to say that a judge ‘has the right to make an order’
disposing of a case, but this is misleading if it suggests that the judge is able to do so
because it reflects our concern for the interests of judges. The judge has the power as
an essential aspect of his or her task as a judge to dispose of cases. And in this sense he
or she has no ‘right’ to make orders, but only a duty to do so when properly demanded
in the present case. Think also of your power to write a cheque and so order your bank
to pay money to someone. You may be under an obligation to exercise that power
because of a judge’s Court Order. Powers must be distinguished from rights and duties
because typically one has both rights and duties that apply to the exercise of one’s
powers. You have the general property right to dispose of what you own as you wish, a
right which allows you to use your power to transfer title to property to anyone you
wish. But if you use that power to transfer Blackacre† so as to defeat the interest of †
Blackacre: a conventional
your mortgagee, then you have breached your contractual duty with the mortgagee lawyer’s term for a
not to do so. The main normative importance of powers is that they identify actions hypothetical piece of land.
which the law specifically makes effective to make positive changes in the norms that
apply. The law favours the practice of individuals making contracts, wills, and
marriages, of legislatures passing statutes, and of judges making decisions in cases,
and so provides a recognisable means for doing so.
There are, of course, other ways of giving rise to norms, which do not count as
the exercise of powers. Some norms arise by operation of law, that is, the law
regards certain norms as arising purely on the basis of certain facts. Thus when you
beat someone up you will, by operation of law, now be liable to pay damages to
compensate for the harm you caused. Tortious and criminal liability are the classic
examples of norms arising by operation of law, though there are many others
(constructive trusts, estoppels, loss of rights through passage of time by limitation
acts, a duty to report income to the Inland Revenue in the year it was earned if you
earned income, and so on). The law does not give rise to rights to sue a tortfeasor for
the reason that this would be a good technique by which tortfeasors could transfer
money to their victims. Thus you do not have a power to transfer money to people
by running them down with your car, and it would be perverse to look at running
someone down as a novel way of conferring a benefit on them. You have a duty not to
run people down, and their right to bring an action against you if you do is to provide
for their compensation. Powers, then, are abilities to alter norms whose exercise the
law in general favours and provides for.
9.1.4 Duties
The normativity of duties is obvious. Duties are exclusionary reasons, in Razian terms.
Notice that duties can correlate to rights, or can be imposed simply by rules for a host
of reasons. Many of the duties we have under the law are not clearly associated with any
particular rights. For example, duties under the road traffic laws can, in one sense, be
thought of as correlating to the rights of others not to be injured, and while of course
road safety is an important concern, these duties can also just be seen as the result of
putting in place a reasonable scheme to facilitate traffic flow. The facilitation of traffic
flow is in everyone’s interests, but we do not organise our thinking on this issue in terms
of the public’s or any particular person’s ‘right’ to a working road network.
1. What is a norm?
2. Explain the normativity of rules, rights, powers and duties.
3. In what respect are rights to liberties norms which suggest self-interestedness

or selfishness?
4. Explain the difference between the normative effect of powers and the way in
which norms may arise by operation of law.
Activity 9.1
Hart famously criticised Kelsen’s theory of law (the subject of Chapter 10 of this
guide) in the following way: Kelsen regarded the basic form of law as a permission
to officials (e.g. judges) to impose a sanction upon individuals when they
committed a delict.† He therefore held a ‘sanction’ theory of law. But, argued Hart, †
Delict: an infringement of a
on this basis, one cannot distinguish a tax from a fine. Look again at the distinction law. See also Latin in flagrante
between norms arising by operation of law and the operation of powers, and try to delicto = ‘[caught] in the very
explain Hart’s criticism. act of committing an offence’.
9.2 Standard classifications of norms
9.2.1 General and special norms

We can distinguish between norms which apply to everyone, and norms which have a
much more restricted scope. Consider the right not to be killed in comparison to the
right to be paid £10 under a contract. The first is a general right. Its origin lies in the
recognition of such a right by the legal system, either in legislation or the common
law, and it applies to all subjects of the legal system. Contractual rights, on the other
hand, are special, in that they arise because of a specific transaction between legal
subjects, and apply to particular, specifiable persons. Although the distinction is most
often applied to rights, it can be used to distinguish all kinds of norms. For example,
legislated legal rules are typically general, whereas court orders, specific directives
that are given by judges and addressed to specific litigants, are special. The duty not
to trespass on the property of others is general, whereas the duty owed to one’s
contractual partner to carry out some work under the contract is special. The power
to make a will is general, but the power of an agent to enter into contracts or sell
property on behalf of his principal is special.
9.2.2 Norms in rem, norms in personam

‘In rem’ and ‘in personam’ are Latin phrases which attempt to mark the distinction
between norms that make essential reference to things and those that make essential
reference to individuals. Property rules, rights, duties and powers respecting land or
chattels are the most obvious example of norms in rem. One’s property right to a car,
say, exists only so long as the car exists, and in one’s legal relations to others in respect
of one’s property right it is in terms of the way they interact with one’s car that is the
essential aspect of the right: they are, for example, under a duty not to take, or damage,
one’s car. By contrast, rights in personam do not depend upon the existence of any
particular thing. A duty to perform work under a contract is a right in personam. And
where a norm in personam does make reference to a thing, the existence of the thing is
not essential to the norm’s existence. A contractual duty to transfer £100 or a specific
piece of property, say a piano, exists whether or not one has any money or has possession
of the piano. The distinction between norms in rem and norms in personam is quite
intuitive, though stating in precise terms what the difference is has troubled many
theorists.
Activity 9.2
Give an example of:
a. A general right in rem.
b. A special right in rem.
c. A general right in personam.
d. A special right in personam.
9.2.3 The ‘choice’ or ‘will’ versus the ‘interest’ theory of rights

Hart made numerous contributions to jurisprudence, and in this chapter we will look
at (a) his ‘will’ or ‘choice’ theory of legal rights and (b) his ‘practice’ theory of rules (see
section 9.4.1). According to Hart, a legal right is not equivalent to a benefit guaranteed
by law. A right is ‘power-like’ in that it is capable of exercise, and in consequence,
legal rights may or may not be exercised by their bearers; their exercise turns on
the decision or choice to do so by their bearers, and as such count as expressions
of their bearers’ wills. This theory does have some intuitive resonance. We do speak
of ‘exercising our rights’, and it does seem to explain examples such as the position
of third party beneficiaries under a contract at common law. At common law, third
parties may benefit from the performance of a contract, but are not regarded as
having any right to enforce the contract, nor any right to their benefit under it, even
though the benefit arises through the performance of a legal duty by a contracting
party. Hart argues that this can be explained by distinguishing legal benefits from legal
rights on the basis that the latter are enforced at the choice of the bearer.
Despite the initial attractions of Hart’s theory, most theorists now follow MacCormick
and Raz in preferring an ‘interest’ theory of rights. As MacCormick famously pointed
out, on Hart’s theory some of the most important legal rights, like the right to life, are
not rights because their bearers cannot waive them: ‘We are all accustomed to talking
and thinking about some rights as “inalieanable”. But if the will theory is correct, the
more they are inalienable, the less they are rights’ (see MacCormick, 1977). The will
theory also cannot account for the rights of those who cannot enforce their rights on
their own behalf, such as children, or animals, if animals have rights. According to the
interest theory, a person has a right not when he has an exercisable power to enforce
his will, but rather when an interest of his is protected by the imposition of a duty on
another or others. Thus a right exists when both (1) an important interest is at stake,
and (2) there is some appropriate relation between the interest bearer and another
or others such that the latter should be under a duty to serve, or protect, or not act
so as to harm, that interest. On this theory, a right is waivable when it is in the interest
of the bearer that it should be, and this makes sense because it is not always the case
that an individual’s overall interest is served by having each of the interests in respect
of which he has a right enforced on every occasion. On the other hand, some interests,
like the right to life, are never waivable for it is never in the bearer’s overall interests
for this particular interest, in life, not to be enforced. (Or so the law presently thinks;
those who believe in the legitimacy of euthanasia would describe situations in which
this would not be so.)
The position of the third party beneficiary under a contract is explained by the interest
theory in this way; at common law, only the interests of the parties to the contract
were regarded as important. A contracting party, A, could enforce a contract with the
result that a third party, B, benefited, but the contract was regarded as being enforced
for A’s interest (including A’s interest in seeing B benefited), but not for B’s interest. B’s
benefit was just a side-effect of A’s interest being enforced, and so B was not regarded
as having any rights under the contract.
Summary
Norms are standards of behaviour with which we expect people to comply. Rules,
rights, duties and powers are all examples of norms, though they are differently
framed. Rights can be general, being held more or less by everyone, or special, being
held only by specified individuals, and have broad scope, such as a right in rem, which
binds, or governs the behaviour of, everyone, or in personam, which binds only a
specified individual or individuals. The ‘choice’ or ‘will’ theory of rights counts as rights
only those which can be ‘exercised’ by a right-holder who can choose to exercise them
or not. The ‘interest’ theory of rights, which is probably more in favour today, treats the
essence of a right that it is framed in terms of, and protects the interest of, the right-
holder, whether the right-holder can exercise or waive the right or not.

uu explain what a norm is, and the way in which rules, rights, duties and powers are
norms, drawing upon Raz’s theory of ‘exclusionary reasons’
uu explain what the terms ‘general’ and ‘special’, ‘in personam’ and ‘in rem’ mean
when applied to norms
uu explain the differences between the ‘will’ or ‘choice’ and ‘interest’ theories of
rights.
9.3 The Hohfeldian characterisation of legal norms

Hohfeld† wrote early in the last century, and his characterisation of legal norms is a †
W. N. Hohfeld was professor
product of the times; he followed in the footsteps of such early ‘American Legal of Jurisprudence at Yale
Realists’ as Oliver Wendell Holmes, who tried to frame legal norms in terms of their University. His Fundamental
actual force in litigation. He therefore developed a very ‘court-centred’ explanation of legal conceptions as applied
legal norms. This had the following essential feature: legal rights, powers, liberties, and in judicial reasoning was
so on, must be shown to correlate with duties, liabilities and so on of various kinds. published in book form in
Roughly, if I have a right, someone must have a duty; if I have a power, someone else 1919.
must have a liability (i.e. there must be someone whose legal rights or duties change
when I exercise my power) and so on. This ‘polar’ concept of legal norms reflects the
typical two-party private law litigation format of plaintiff and defendant. What he
came up with, as a result of this strong correlativity thesis, was a set of ‘jural relations’
which explained the interrelationship of the ‘basic legal conceptions’ in terms of
correlatives and opposites. In the diagram of these basic legal conceptions (Figure 1),
‘correlations’ run horizontally, whereas ‘oppositions’ or ‘contradictions’ run diagonally.
Right
Duty
(‘claim right’)
Liberty
No-right
(‘privilege’)
Power Liability
Immunity Disability
The first thing to notice is that all of those conceptions in the left-hand column are
sometimes called rights. If one has a legal claim against Y, one can be said to have a
right against Y. If one has a liberty, say the right to practice one’s religion, then one may
be said to have a right that Y (or any number of Ys) not interfere. A power to make a
will is also sometimes called a right to make a will. And an immunity, such as an
immunity not to be prosecuted in England because one is a diplomat of another
country, can be said to be a right not to be prosecuted. Hohfeld was keen to
distinguish one use of ‘right’ from another.
The first sort of right, in the top left corner of the first square, right in the ‘strict
sense’ according to Hohfeld, is a claim right: the right of X to demand of Y, who is
under a correlative duty, that Y should act in some way. A liberty (which Hohfeld
idiosyncratically called a ‘privilege’) is a right to do something oneself: if X has a right
to speak freely, or to enter contracts, or to vote, he has a liberty right, or just a liberty.
Very importantly, notice that this sort of right does not correlate with any duties upon
anyone else; on the Hohfeldian analysis it is an error to say that my right to assemble
correlates with your duty not to break up my meetings. Rather, it correlates with your
‘no-right’ that I not assemble; this awkward terminology is adapted from the notion
that my liberty to assemble exists because you have no right that I don’t. And here’s
where the notion of jural opposites comes in. A no-right is an opposite of a right, and
a liberty an opposite of a duty, because:
uu if you have ‘no right’ that I not assemble, then you don’t have a right that I don’t
assemble; this seems obvious enough, but it is important to realise that Hohfeld
regarded a ‘no-right’ as a genuine jural conception – it is not just the absence of a
right, but the opposite of a right
uu and if I have no liberty to assemble, then I must have a duty not to assemble.
The same working of correlatives and opposites applies mutatis mutandis to the
second square of jural relations.
9.3.1 Problems with Hohfeld’s analysis

The point of Hohfeld’s analysis is to clarify the different normative relations that can
exist and to provide a systematic set of terms which can be used to avoid confusion.
In this respect the system can probably be regarded as a total failure. Almost no one
in law or legal philosophy regularly or consistently employs Hohfeldian terminology,
for several reasons. First of all, the system is extremely counter-intuitive and fiendishly
difficult to operate correctly. For example, we regularly pair rights to do something
(liberties in Hohfeld’s scheme) with duties on others not to interfere with us when
we do that thing; thus we say that my right to assemble correlates with your duty not
to break up my meetings; but this is impermissible on Hohfeld’s scheme, for liberties
cannot correlate with duties. In ‘Some Professorial Fallacies About Rights’ ((1972–3) 4
Adelaide LR 377), Finnis, while arguing that Hohfeldian analysis can be illuminating, also
shows in various ways why people are prone to get into a muddle when using it.
The second major problem is simply that it is not clear whether the analysis delivers a
true representation of legal norms. Why should an analysis which is supposed to clear
up confusions be so counter-intuitive and hard to work? This strongly suggests to
some theorists that Hohfeld’s analysis is more like a dogma, a re-ordering of our beliefs
about rights rather than a more precise description of them. Consider, for example,
whether Hohfeld’s prohibition on a liberty right correlating with a duty makes sense
on the ‘interest’ theory of rights, described above. On the interest theory, my right to
speak freely protects my interest in free speech, and correlates with your duty not to
interfere with me when I speak. On the Hohfeldian scheme, we would have to declare
this correlation of liberty right and duty a mistake. We would rather have to explain
first that the primary jural conception that applies when I have the liberty to speak
is that others have no-right that I don’t. But one may well wonder what the point is
of looking first to the interest of others in my speech when the interest protected
is my interest in speaking without interference. Finally, Hohfeld holds the view that
in the case of rights in rem, such as a right to Blackacre, the owner of Blackacre does
not have a single right of property, which others are under a duty to respect (not to
trespass, etc.), but rather that the owner has an individual right in personam against
each other person in the legal system, and they are each under an individual duty
in personam, not to trespass, etc. While this analysis purports to solve the problem
of devising a workable distinction between norms in rem and norms in personam, it
does so by abolishing the distinction. In doing so, it appears merely to generate other
problems in understanding the nature of property rights and other rights in rem (see,
for example, Penner 1997a, 1997b).
Summary
Hohfeld’s scheme of jural correlative and opposites imposes an order on the different
shades of meaning that accompany the term right, distinguishing claim rights from
liberties, powers and immunities. It is not clear, however, that the scheme genuinely
reflects the concepts as they operate in the law. In particular, it may not be justified to
deny that liberty rights can correlate with duties.
Activity 9.3
Consider the following situation:
Erica has an easement – a right of way – across Ben’s garden. She often slows her
pace on her way to admire Ben’s flowers, which annoys Ben. One day Ben blocks
Erica’s access to her right of way, and Erica, in response, brings an action in court
seeking an injunction requiring Ben to remove the obstruction, and damages.
Describe as best you can the legal situation in terms of Hohfeld’s basic legal
conceptions.
9.4 Following rules

Rules are one of the most important means by which people coordinate their
activities. Complex activities with a particular value or point, such as games, or
bureaucratic administration, essentially depend upon rules to function at all.
Obviously the law too relies heavily upon rules to function. Indeed, prior to the
humanist re-orientation of morality which occurred during the Renaissance and the
Enlightenment, there was no ‘rights’-based way of looking at morality or law which
would have served as the basis for legal reasoning. Rules, principles, orders, and so on,
were the only tools upon which a legal system could draw.
In Chapter 8 we looked at rules from the perspective of Raz’s theory, as exclusionary

reasons, which reflect the balance of reasons that apply to a situation (or type of
situation). The following of these rules constitutes the executive phase of practical
reason, which comes after the deliberative phase, which results in laying down the
rule. Here we look at two other perspectives on rules, Hart’s practice theory of rules,
and the question of understanding what rules require us to do.
9.4.1 Rules as reasons and the ‘practice theory’ of rules

As you may already appreciate from your study of Hart, rules play a central role in
his theory. Hart emphasised that the following of a rule could not be treated merely
as a behavioural regularity. It is a rule that we stop at red traffic lights, but not a
rule that we go to the cinema every Friday, even if we go through red lights more
frequently than we fail to go to the cinema Fridays. The difference, Hart pointed out,
lay in our attitude towards them. There is social pressure to conform with rules, and
we criticise people for breaking them, whereas no such similar pressure or criticism
attends a failure to, say, go to the cinema each Friday. Thus, reasoned Hart, rules can
be distinguished from mere behavioural regularities because rules are ‘practices’ of
a particular kind, practices which are attended by social pressure to conform and
criticism when people deviate. Unfortunately, this ‘practice’ theory of rules fails on
several counts.
Activity 9.4
Read the excerpt from Raz in Penner et al., pp.653–55, and explain in your own
words the three reasons Raz gives for rejecting the practice theory of rules.
9.4.2 Understanding and following rules: the influence of Wittgenstein

The question to be addressed here is, how do we know we are following a rule correctly,
and how do we criticise others for failing to follow a rule? This might seem like a trivial
question, but consider the following case. You and I sit down to play chess, as we have
done many times in the past. But this time my behaviour seems strange to you, because
I start moving the bishop as we formerly moved the knight, and I move the knight as I
used to use the bishop. You ask me to stop that, and play by the rules. But I reply that I
am. I say that these are the rules of chess: when you are under 25 years of age, one moves
the knight and bishop as we did before, but when you are over 25, one moves them as I
am now doing, and I turned 25 yesterday. How are you to respond to that?
Here’s the paradox of rule-following this example generates. There is nothing in our
past behaviour which shows that this wasn’t the rule we were following, because
before today playing with the knight and the bishop in the former way was perfectly
right under my understanding of the rule as well as yours. You might try to avoid
the problem by reformulating the rules of chess to avoid this result, by offering a
new interpretation of the rule, and so on, but as Wittgenstein demonstrated, this
is hopeless, for one follows rules in interpreting formulations and interpretations,
and I could just as easily avoid the intention that lies behind your reformulations by
interpreting them as I wish (interpreting your words as having different meanings, and
so on). Of course you could provide further interpretations of these interpretations,
but that will just go on forever.
Because of these sorts of considerations – and all philosophers regard these points
raised by Wittgenstein as points which have to be addressed – some people become
rule sceptics, i.e. they don’t believe that rules actually guide people’s behaviour. There
have been legal theorists who are rule sceptics of various kinds, most notably some
American Legal Realists and, more recently, some critical legal scholars (see Chapter
16). Certain American Legal Realists argued that judges are not really bound by rules,
and that they could manipulate rules in such a way as to get the results that they
thought provided the best result in the case. You should realise something of the
plausibility of this perspective, for in reading legal cases you will have come across
occasions where different judges interpret a statutory rule or a rule of the common
law in very different ways, yet all claim that they are giving effect to the rule. The
considerations above could provide a philosophical basis for pointing out that rules
are flexible, and can be manipulated to generate the result one desires. However,
we do notice that rules seem to have some effect, and rule sceptics generally try to
show why the decisions of judges tend to be reasonably consistent even though this
consistency cannot be put down to the constraint of following rules; critical legal
scholars, for example, typically argue that whatever consistency there is in the case
law can be attributed to the fact that lawyers and judges share the same ideological,
i.e. socio-economic and political, outlook. They bring this shared outlook to the cases
they decide, and it is because of that, they claim, the law has remained reasonably
coherent.
Wittgenstein, however, was no rule sceptic. He argued, rather, that following a rule did
not consist in extending a string of past applications of the rule each time we apply the
rule, nor in our following some bullet-proof formulation or interpretation of what the
rule required. The philosophical details are quite complicated (and controversial) but
the general approach is to point out that following a rule reflects something akin to an
ability. To understand a rule and be able to follow it is primarily a matter of knowing
how to do something, rather than knowing that this string of past cases exists, or
knowing this or that formulation of the rule. We are capable of following rules and
understanding what they require in a particular case because we share the same
judgments about what counts as doing something in the ‘same’ way, what counts as a
relevant similarity and what counts as a relevant difference.
On this ‘knowing how’ view of rules, the paradox dissolves. The considerations that
seem to make rule-following paradoxical arise because we are looking in the wrong
place to see how we follow rules.
Understanding rules this way, however, does not merely dissolve the paradox. It also
tells us something about the nature of rules. In particular, it emphasises that rules are
devices of practical reasoning, which are used to do things with a purpose in mind.
Therefore, rules do not apply in every sort of circumstance that may arise. Rather, rules
serve a purpose in those situations in which it makes sense to follow them. Rules are
†
defeasible.† Hart, who was aware of the work of Wittgenstein, also made this point, Defeasible: capable of being
when he talked about rules having a core area of application, and a penumbra† of defeated, overturned or
uncertainty. Thus a rule which states, ‘No vehicles in the park’, applies perfectly well to made void.
bar cars and lorries from the park, which is the sort of traffic the makers of the rule had †
Penumbra: a less distinct
in mind when the rule was instituted. But it may not apply easily at all to other cases;
region surrounding a core
the case of scooters, the case of emergency vehicles on the way to a rescue, the case of area. The word derives from
citizens who wish to mount a vintage car as a statue. Wittgenstein would say that it is the Latin word for ‘shadow’.
part of a mistaken ‘mythology’ of rules that they should ‘self-apply’ in every possible
circumstance. We apply rules, and we can see where their application is doubtful or
problematic.
(Note: accepting this point does not resolve the dispute between Hart and Dworkin
in Hart’s favour, on the basis that Wittgenstein showed that there were gaps in the
law, i.e. those areas where rules do not apply straightforwardly. For Dworkin does not
claim that there is never uncertainty or doubtfulness in the application of legal rules,
but rather that a judge may always determine a right answer in a case, not by showing
the ‘true meaning’ of any particular rule, but rather by showing that there is, in the
principles and theoretical resources of the law, a true answer to the question, ‘what is
the law on this point?’)
Summary
Hart’s practice theory of rules, by which a rule is said to exist where there is a practice
of acting, deviation from which attracts criticism, is deficient for not being able to
distinguish rules from generally accepted reasons, and for failing to reproduce the
normativity of rules, which doesn’t depend upon whether they are practised or not.
Wittgenstein’s consideration of rule-following denies that rules are standards which
are logically dictated by past precedents, or by unmisinterpretable formulations of
what a rule requires; rather, we follow rules and understand deviations from a rule
because we share a practical understanding of what counts as going on in the same
way given the context and our purposes. Rules are defeasible in the sense, roughly,
that they do not apply to cases which lie outside the context in which the rules
achieve the practical purpose we intended.

uu explain in outline the Hohfeldian concept of legal norms, in particular its
emphasis on correlativity, and be able to explain each of the eight foundational
elements and point out some of the theory’s shortcomings
uu explain Hart’s ‘practice’ theory of rules and its deficiencies
uu describe how trying to understand how we follow rules can give rise to a
philosophical paradox, what rule scepticism is, and explain how Wittgenstein’s
ideas might contribute to resolving these problems.
9.5 The variety of hard cases

The purpose of this short section is merely to point out some of the different ways in
which a system of rules, like the law, can generate cases which are difficult to decide.
The commonplace that rules generate hard cases has been realised from antiquity;
both Aristotle in ancient Greece, and Aquinas in the thirteenth century, understood
this, and both articulated the classical notion of ‘equity’. This concept of equity (not
to be confused with the English jurisdiction of the Court of Equity) holds that justice
requires a departure from the rules in some cases. Justice according to the rules must
be tempered with equity, to do perfect justice. Here then, are some different kinds of
hard case:
1. Where the rules lead to an unjust or harsh result

This is the sort of case where the classical notion of equity most clearly applies. It
is also the case where judges of the common law are most apt to argue that the
differences in the case require them to make an exception to a common law rule or
principle. On the other hand, such cases also give rise to the slogan ‘hard cases make
bad law’. The slogan is a warning about creating ad hoc exceptions to the rules just
because the result seems harsh. Sometimes it is just to leave people with the bad
consequences that follow from applying the law; consider the ancient common law
slogan, ‘The law does not bend to protect fools’. Otherwise the law might become so
riddled with exceptions and be regarded as so susceptible to judicial modification
that no one could say with certainty what the law required, and no one could plan his
affairs taking account of the law.
2. Where the rules require a difficult judgment in their application

Often the law uses broad or abstract considerations, such as reasonableness, in
framing its rules, and applying such considerations requires judgment, and it may be
far from easy to decide many cases. Consider a case like Bolton v Stone [1951] AC 850, in
which the question to be decided was whether a cricket club had unreasonably failed
to address the risk of injury when a passer-by was struck by a cricket ball hit out of the
ground, even though only six balls had been hit out of the ground in the last 30 years.
Positivists sometimes mistakenly treat this sort of case as one where a judge must
exercise his discretion to reach a decision, but this is not so. Rather, it is simply a very
difficult case of judging whether the risk of injury was so low as to make it reasonable
to do nothing, taking into account that if the risk occurred, as it did in this case, the
injury was likely to be severe. There is simply no easy answer here.
3. Where the rules conflict

This happens fairly frequently in the law. Sometimes, the rules formally conflict, as
where there are opposite rules arising from the decisions of different high courts. The
law often provides means of dealing with conflicts of this kind. For example, there is
the hierarchical structure of the courts, in which a House of Lords’ decision prevails
over any conflicting decision given in a lower court; should a conflict be found in
the rules provided in different statutes, the rule of the later statute prevails, and
so on. Sometimes a court must merely judge which rule to be the more important.
For example, in Midland Bank v Green [1981] AC 513 the court was asked to apply an
equitable principle to ‘read down’ the rules of a land registration statute, to prevent
a person who knowingly entered into a transaction at an extreme undervalue from
defeating someone else’s interest in land. The principle was in clear conflict with the
rule, and the judge did not merely say that a statutory rule always defeated a judge-
made principle. Rather, he judged that the strict reading of the registration rule was
necessary for the workability of the registration scheme as a whole. The rule was, in
this context, simply more important than the principle. Much more common than
these formal conflicts, where the different rules would dictate different decisions in
the cases, are what might be called pragmatic conflicts between rules. These are cases
where the rules of the system apply more or less straightforwardly to give a result, but
appear to violate the general principle of justice than ‘like cases should be decided
alike’. The rules, taken together, make the law look unprincipled and haphazard. Such a
sense might in part have underlain the decision in Donaghue v Stevenson [1932] AC 562;
it might have seemed to the majority that it was just too unjust to allow the purchaser
of a bottle of ginger beer who was poisoned by it to recover from its manufacturer, but
not the woman for whom he bought it.
4. Where two or more different rules could plausibly underlie a series of cases or
a statutory provision
This is common. As we have seen in our look at Wittgenstein’s examination of rule-
following, a set of past decisions cannot logically show that only one particular rule
justified those decisions. In some cases, two or more rules with different purposes
could plausibly account for the decisions. The same can be said for determining
what rule a statutory rule formulation actually requires. Rule formulations can
be interpreted in different ways. If you are a Hartian positivist, you may say that
such cases may require the judge to develop the law, making new law. If you are a
Dworkinian, you will argue that the body of law, properly theorised, will reveal which
rule is correct.
5. Where the scope of the rule is uncertain

This difficulty typically arises in complex legal systems, often in the case of statutory
provisions. Sometime statutes try to avoid this problem by defining terms such as
‘property’ or ‘person’ for the purposes of applying the statute only. But often it is
difficult to know whether a court decision or a statutory provision concerning some
legal concept or legal rule is meant to apply only in one area of law, or across all areas
of law in which the concept or rule has application. So, for example, does a court
decision that ‘abstracting electricity without the consent of the electricity company’
constitutes theft mean that electricity is a new kind of property, to which all the rules,
in particular the rules of private law, apply? Does a bill of rights which protects persons
against unlawful search apply only to individuals, or also to companies, which are
‘legal’ persons?
Activity 9.5
There has been much controversy as to whether corporations, as legal persons,
can be criminally liable for murder or manslaughter. Assume you are a judge faced
with the issue of whether a railway corporation can be criminally tried for the
death of passengers in an accident caused by a broken rail, which resulted from the
deliberate decision of the directors not to invest more money in track maintenance.
What considerations would you bring to bear in making your decision?
Further reading
¢¢ Hohfeld, W. Fundamental legal conceptions as applied in judicial reasoning. Ed.
Cook, W. W. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1919) (originally published
in 1913, 23 Yale LJ 16 and 1917, 26 Yale LJ 710). This book was re-issued in an
expensive edition by Dartmouth Publishers, 2001. [ISBN 185521668X].
¢¢ Raz, J. Practical reason and norms. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999)
[ISBN 0198268343].
¢¢ Penner, J. E. ‘The analysis of rights’ 10 Ratio Juris (1997a) 300–15.
¢¢ Penner, J. E. ‘The elements of a normative system’, Chapter 2 of The idea of

property in law. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997b) [ISBN 0198260296] pp.7–31.
References
¢¢ MacCormick, N. ‘Rights in legislation’ in Hacker, P.M.S. and Raz, J. (eds) Law,
morality and society: essays in honour of H.L.A. Hart. (Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1977).
¢¢ Penner, J. The idea of property in law. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997a) pp.23–31.
¢¢ Penner, J. ‘Hohfeldian use rights in property’ in Harris, J.W. (ed.) Property

problems: from genes to pension funds. (London: Kluwer, 1997b) p. 164.
¢¢ Englerth, M. ‘Responsible trimmings – the political case for the interest theory of
rights’ (2004) UCL Jurisprudence Review 105.
Markus Englerth provides a formidable challenge to Kramer’s insistence on ‘formal’

and ‘logical’ accounts of rights. In his essay on the ‘interest’ theory of rights, Englerth
argues that since ‘rights talk’ is crucially important in political argument, it is very
difficult to see how it may be detached from ‘arguments of power distribution’.
¢¢ Sen, A. ‘Elements of a theory of rights’ (2004) 32 Philosophy & Public Affairs 315.
Professor Amartya Sen, the Nobel Prize winner in economics, presents a theory
of rights linking all he says to the contemporary debates and comments on the
arguments used in them. Warning: it is a difficult article and you need to take it very
slowly. But it is full of insights.
¢¢ Wenar, L. ‘The nature of rights’ (2005) 33 Philosophy & Public Affairs 223
is a similar overview, but of the logic of rights with reference to Hohfeld’s theory of
rights.
¢¢ Kramer, M. and H. Steiner ‘Theories of rights: is there a third way?’ (2007) 27

Oxford Journal of Legal Studies 281
provides an examination of the strengths and weaknesses of the ‘will’ and ‘interest’
theories of rights.
¢¢ Penner, J.E. ‘An untheory of the law of trusts, or some notes towards
understanding the structure of trusts law doctrine’ (2010) 63 Current Legal
Problems 653–75.
Penner challenges the idea that legal doctrine is structured by underlying moral
principles. He develops, in the context of trusts law, a Razian perspective on the
practical reason of solving co-ordination problems, and the sort of expertise lawyers
and judges bring to bear in resolving conflicts.

The material you have looked at in this chapter is of value not only in its own right,
but as a basis for thinking about the concepts and ideas that underpin the legal
theories that have been presented in other chapters. It is therefore important that
you return to this chapter when you review the theories of Austin and Bentham,
Kelsen, Hart, Dworkin, and others. When you return to these questions you will be
able to give richer answers than you are in a position to do now.
Question 1 ‘Any legal theory relies on a conception of fundamental norms.’ Discuss.
Question 2 What is a right?
Question 3 ‘Once one understands the nature of rules, one is driven to the
conclusion that law is more than a system of rules.’ Discuss.

Question 1 The law is a normative system, which generates its guidance by issuing
rules and instituting rights, duties, and so on. Any theory of law must address the
normativity of law, and so will typically explain the nature of rules and rights, duties,
and so on, in a particular way. A good answer to this question might oppose command
theories of law, with their characterisation of duties in terms of liabilities to sanctions,
to theories such of that of Raz, who argues that norms must be explained as reasons
of a particular kind, exclusionary reasons. You might also address the way in which
different theories explain how the law deals with hard cases or conflicts of rules,
opposing Hart’s to Dworkin’s theory for example, or consider Dworkin’s claim that
his theory of law is ‘right-based’ rather than ‘duty-based’, and how the role of Judge
Hercules in his theory works to explain the nature of legal rights (see Chapter 8).
Question 2 This is a simple question to make an essay plan for, but not an easy one
to execute. You must, of course, consider Raz’s treatment of rights as exclusionary
reasons, discuss the interest and will theories of rights, and address Hohfeld’s
characterisation of rights. The difficulty is judging which aspects of these different
perspectives on rights generate an improved understanding of rights, and which
seem to make false claims about rights or which seem to obscure the nature of rights.
This, alas, you must try to do yourself, but a good starting point is to consider cases or
statutes with which you are familiar, and try to show how they can be explained using
one or other theoretical perspective. As a comparison, you might also try to answer
‘What is a duty?’ or ‘What is a rule?’
Question 3 This question could be taken as directly addressing the Hart–Dworkin

debate, and that is perfectly acceptable. Pointing out some of features of the hard
cases we have considered, one might point out that the limitations of rules require
judges either to have a law-making power, or that judges must have recourse to
considerations like moral and political philosophy to act effectively. A broader framing
of the answer might address rule scepticism, and consider whether the statement
implicitly adopts a rule sceptical stance. Such an answer might draw in the theories of
American Legal Realists, critical legal scholars and others, such as, perhaps, feminist
legal theorists and critical race theorists. On this broader framing, one might consider
more generally the claim that legal decisions are driven by ideology, not a calculus of
rules, and here one might also consider Marxist theories of law. On any approach, it is
necessary to discuss the nature of rules as described by Raz, Hart and Wittgenstein.
Reflect and review



I can explain what a norm is, and the way in which rules,
rights, duties and powers are norms, drawing upon Raz’s
theory of ‘exclusionary reasons’.   
I can explain what the terms ‘general’ and ‘special’,‘in

personam’ and ‘in rem’ mean when applied to norms.   
I can explain the differences between the ‘will’ or

‘choice’ and ‘interest’ theories of rights.   
I can explain in outline the Hohfeldian concept of legal

norms, in particular its emphasis on correlativity, and am
able to explain each of the eight foundational elements
and point out some of the theory’s shortcomings.   
I can explain Hart’s ‘practice’ theory of rules and its

deficiencies.   
I can describe how trying to understand how we

follow rules can give rise to a philosophical paradox,
what rule scepticism is, and explain how Wittgenstein’s
ideas might contribute to resolving these problems.   
I can explain the classical notion of equity.   
I can give examples of different sorts of hard cases,

explain why they can give rise to theoretical difficulties,
and suggest the different ways in which judges and
lawyers can respond to them.   
revise?
Must Revision
revise done
9.1 What is a norm?  
9.2 Standard classifications of norms  
9.3 The Hohfeldian characterisation of legal norms  
9.4 Following rules  
9.5 The variety of hard cases  

10 Kelsen’s theory of law
Contents
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 132
10.1 Background to Kelsen’s theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133
10.2 How Kelsen characterises law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135
10.3 Legal revolution . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138
10.4 Criticisms of Kelsen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 140

Introduction
This chapter introduces you to the influential theory of law of the Austrian lawyer and
philosopher, Hans Kelsen (1881–1973). Although he was not of Anglo-American birth,
the idea of the ‘purity’ of his account of law, his views on legal structure and on the
general form that all laws took, and his theory of legal validity, have all become part of
the Anglo-American tradition of legal positivism (see Chapter 3 of this guide). Studying
his theory gives us insight into this theory and, through careful comparison, into
both the command theory and Hart’s theory. In particular, Hart’s rule of recognition
has some significant similarities with, but also substantial differences from, Kelsen’s
famous Grundnorm. (Grundnorm just means ‘ground norm’ or ‘foundation norm’ in
German, and because it is a proper noun, in the German fashion, it takes a capital letter
‘G’. )
Useful insights into methodology arise from studying Kelsen, and many scholars are
resistant to what they see as a formal, morally cold and over-descriptive account. Fans
of Kelsen think that what he says about law’s structure rightly emphasises how law
is at its best, which is in being rigorously clear, guiding and independent of anything
controversial, such as moral statements.
Learning outcomes
uu describe in detail each of the two major parts of Kelsen’s theory: law as a ‘specific
technique of social organisation’ and the theory of the Grundnorm
uu explain the following Kelsenian terminology: Grundnorm, ‘transcendental’,
‘epistemological’, ‘norm’, ‘ethical-political postulate’
uu compare and contrast Kelsen’s Grundnorm with Hart’s rule of recognition
uu explain Kelsen’s theory of validity and its relationship to effectiveness
uu explain Kelsen’s theory of revolution, applying that theory to some
constitutional cases of illegal change of government
uu explain Kelsen’s views on the unity of the legal system
uu comment, using your own view, on the general usefulness of Kelsen’s theory.
Essential reading
There is nothing like reading Kelsen himself. There are good extracts in Freeman.
The best commentaries on Kelsen are by Hart, Raz and Harris.
¢¢ Harris, J. W. Legal philosophies. (London: Butterworths Law, 1997) second edition
[ISBN 0406507163]. The chapter on Kelsen is a good start to understanding
Kelsen.
¢¢ Davies, H. and Holdcroft, D. (eds) Jurisprudence: text and commentaries. (London:

Butterworth, 1991) [ISBN 0406504288]; Chapter 5 contains the essential original
works by Kelsen.
¢¢ Raz, J. The concept of a legal system. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1973)
[ISBN 0198251890] Chapter 5.
¢¢ Raz, J. The authority of law. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1979)

[ISBN 0198254938] Chapter 7 (also useful is Raz’s ‘The purity of the pure theory’,
sufficiently extracted in Freeman, Chapter 4: ‘The pure theory of law’, pp.357–368
300ff.).
¢¢ Hart, H.L.A. Essays in jurisprudence and philosophy. (Oxford: Oxford University

Press, 1983) [ISBN 0198253885] Chapters 14 and 15. You should read the
comparison drawn by Hart between his rule of recognition and Kelsen’s
Grundnorm at p. 292.
¢¢ Also, there is commentary in Penner et al. Chapter 5 and Wayne Morrison’s

Jurisprudence: from the Greeks to post-modernism Chapter 12.
Jurisprudence and legal theory 10 Kelsen’s theory of law page 133
Further reading
¢¢ Paulson, S. ‘J.W. Harris’s Kelsen’ and Dickson, J. ‘Interpreting normativity’
in Endicott, T., J. Getzler and E. Peel (eds) Properties of law. (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2006) [ISBN 9780199290963]
are two essays for those interested in pursuing Kelsen in greater detail.
¢¢ Duxbury, N. ‘Kelsen’s endgame’ (2008) 67 Cambridge Law Journal 51.
Duxbury has written a short essay on Kelsen’s switch from holding that the basic norm
was a ‘presupposition’ of legal thinking to a kind of ‘fiction’.
¢¢ Ross, A. (trans. H.P. Olsen) ‘The 25th anniversary of the pure theory of law’ (2011)
31 Oxford Journal of Legal Studies 243
is a translation and reprint of Alf Ross’s 1936 tribute and critique of Kelsen’s pure
theory of law. It makes very interesting reading, giving a sense of the way Kelsen’s
theory was viewed by an important scholar in the early part of the last century.
¢¢ Heidemann, C. ‘Facets of “ought” in Kelsen’s pure theory of law’ (2013) 4(2)

Jurisprudence 246
is an historical and theoretical account of Kelsen’s conception of the ‘ought’.
10.1 Background to Kelsen’s theory
10.1.1 The ‘pure theory’

Kelsen’s theory presents a consistent and coherent whole (You should read some
Kelsen. The style is often a little unwieldy, but this is partly because much of his work is
translated from German.) He was a practising lawyer of great distinction, drafting the
new Austrian Constitution in 1921, and writing the first detailed (and still authoritative)
guide to the United Nations Charter. His theory is complex, and difficult to criticise,
though it is subject to the criticisms that are directed at legal positivism in all its forms.
Many of the criticisms in the secondary sources are fairly superficial, and sometimes
they are clearly not based on what Kelsen said at all.
Kelsen’s main works on legal theory are The pure theory of law which was first
published in German in 1934, and in English in 1960, and General theory of law and state,
first published in 1945. There is considerable overlap between these works. Kelsen’s
aim in producing what he called his ‘pure theory’ was to enable us to think of law
independently of any ideological content. Thus Kelsen would have objected to the
statement ‘Tory law is not law’ made by Arthur Scargill, leader of the National Union of
Mineworkers, during the long and bitter miners’ strike in the UK in 1984–85, justifying
breaches of recently enacted law relating to trade unions. He would have had similar
objections to claims by the German Nazis that ‘Jewish liberal law is not law’.
Among the key points to note in Kelsen’s ideas are these:
1. Kelsen says that the description of law, even though it is a set of ‘ought-
propositions’, is something different from saying what the law ought to be; that
is, it is something different from prescribing the ‘content’ of law. Kelsen draws a
clear distinction between the content and the form of the law. So his view is that,
although the description of law is a description of ‘oughts’, these certainly do
not describe what the moral content of the law ought to be. So, in a well-known
affirmation of the ‘purity’ of his theory he defined his legal positivism in the
following terms:
Legal norms may have any kind of content. There is no kind of human behaviour that,
because of its nature, could not be made into a legal duty corresponding to a legal right.
2. A norm, in Kelsen’s terms, is in essence action-directing, and should not be thought

of only as imposing a duty, but also as including the idea of a permission or power,
as where the norm permits or empowers the judge to do something. For example,
the law may permit a judge, but does not place a duty on him or her, to impose a
prison sentence up to a maximum defined by law.
3. Kelsen distinguishes between legal, moral and other norms. Moral norms
are merely, in his view, propositions describing our subjective preferences
for behaviour, and he is critical of ‘natural lawyers’ who think that morality is
something objective. Kelsen actually said that he thought that all of our moral
judgments are irrational, because they could do no more than express our feelings
or intuitions. In other words, and by his own admission, Kelsen is a moral relativist.
4. Kelsen is also concerned with drawing a clear line between fact and norm, because
the former cannot generate the latter. This is why he is averse to Hart’s idea that
law is reducible to a social practice (the rule of recognition). In other words, he
tries to establish law as a normative order in a way that is independent both from
morality (because he thinks that there is no such thing as objective morality)
and fact (consider here the difficulties that Hart faced in accounting for law’s
normativity).
Activity 10.1
To remind yourself of important concepts that we dealt with in earlier chapters,
write down a brief definition of legal positivism.
10.1.2 Mythology and obscurity in Kelsen

It is important to remove the mythology surrounding Kelsen. Although parts of his
work – such as his famous Grundnorm – might seem obscure at first, even these can
be successfully ‘demythologised’. The rest of the difficulties are mostly due to his
occasional use of technical terms of German philosophy. You can understand anything
at all in Kelsen if you can understand the following. He said of his Grundnorm that
‘since it [the Grundnorm] is only the transcendental-logical condition of this normative
interpretation, it does not perform an ethical-political but an epistemological
function’. (This quotation comes from his The Pure Theory (1978) University of California
Press ISBN 0520036921 at p. 218). See also section 10.2.3 below.
The following should make it clearer and take the ‘mythology’ out:
uu ‘transcendental’ means ‘outside’ and independent from experience, facts
uu ‘normative’ means ‘a matter of rules’
uu ‘performing an ethical-political function’ means for Kelsen ‘making an evaluative

statement of morality or politics’
uu ‘epistemological’ (coming from ‘epistemology’, which means ‘a theory of

knowledge’) means in this context ‘making clear how we can know something’.
And so the Grundnorm is an assumption that stands outside the law that shows us how
we can know what is law. Even at this early stage of this chapter you should be able to
see what Kelsen is driving at. To use his example, the tax inspector acts in accordance
with law because we ultimately assume that his acts have legal validity. We can
contrast this case with that of the man with a gun raiding a bank. We make no such
assumption that such an act is within the law. Another example is that to make sense
of what we are doing, say, in a criminal law tutorial, we must have assumed that the
Theft Act 1968, for example, is valid law. You have to admit that this is not a particularly
difficult idea. Now have another look at how Kelsen expressed it.
Apart from my point above about ‘transcendental epistemological postulates’, I

suggest that you don’t worry too much about words such as ‘norm’, either, since for
our purposes here, it can be used interchangeably with ‘rule’. Kelsen’s terminology
sometimes follows the philosophic tradition created by the great German philosopher
Immanuel Kant and the ideas can be reasonably translated into clear English.
Activity 10.2
Define Grundnorm, using your own terms, as clearly as you can.
Summary
Kelsen represents Continental legal positivism.† He argued that law could be identified †
‘Continental’ = in the
solely by its form and not its content, and so his theory, as he said, was ‘pure’. European rather than
Furthermore, finding the law was matter of ‘objectively’ describing a set of ‘action- the English tradition.
directing’ rules of behaviour, or ‘norms’, which would impose duties or confer powers Whether England (Britain)
on people. Morality, he said, was a matter of ‘mere subjective opinion’. Some of his is considered part of ‘the
language is difficult because of (a) its translation from German and (b) the technical Continent’ varies according to
terms used in German philosophy, but these can be easily ‘decoded’. The Grundnorm is, the context and the speaker.
straightforwardly, an assumption that a set of laws is valid.
10.2 How Kelsen characterises law
10.2.1 The legal norm

It is important to note how Kelsen characterises law in general. It is necessary first
to look at how Kelsen views the legal phenomena that he sets out to describe. His
views are clearly laid out in the first chapter of General theory of law and state, the first
sentence of which states that ‘Law is an order of human behaviour’ which ‘designates a
specific technique of social organisation’. By this he means that law is a mechanism for
making people do things.
Kelsen has views about the form this ‘specific technique of social organisation’ takes. It
is that the technique is essentially one of coercion, by the systematic use of sanctions,
and is applied by agents or officials authorised by the legal order to apply sanctions.
He says that these two attributes – coercion and officialdom – mark out what is
‘unique’ about law and is what is common to all uses of the word ‘law’ (when that
word is used in connection with legal systems). This, he says, enables the word ‘law’ to
appear as the expression of a concept with a ‘socially highly significant meaning’. As
a result he gives us a very specific characterisation of what a legal rule (in his jargon,
‘legal norm’) is. This is that a legal norm is a direction to an official to apply a sanction
when certain circumstances arise.
The key to the whole of Kelsen’s theory is to understand that law consists of directions
to officials to apply sanctions. An immediate objection to this view would be that
we do not ordinarily think of laws as being directed to the officials of a system. For
example, we think of the criminal law as imposing duties upon citizens to do, or
forbear from doing, certain kinds of things. Or we think of laws – those governing
the creation of wills, say – as conferring powers upon citizens to make wills. Kelsen’s
answer to this is simply that he is bringing to light something in the legal phenomena
of which we are not normally aware, namely, that law is essentially a form of social
control that proceeds by way of imposing duties or conferring powers upon officials to
apply sanctions.
10.2.2 The delict

In fact, a citizen, according to Kelsen, does not strictly speaking have a norm directed
at him or her at all. If a citizen does something which gives rise to the circumstances
under which an official ought (or may) apply a sanction, that citizen has not done
anything contrary to that norm, simply because it is directed at the officials. The
citizen has instead committed what Kelsen calls, borrowing from Roman law, a
‘delict’.† Kelsen say that if we take a law such as ‘one shall not steal’ then everything †
‘Delict’ = an infraction of
contained in the meaning of that law is contained in the meaning of ‘if somebody a law or rule. See also the
steals, he shall be punished’. Latin phrase in flagrante
delicto, meaning ‘in the act of
committing an offence’.
It is thus not necessary to refer to ‘one shall not steal’ at all. Kelsen nevertheless says
that it ‘greatly facilitates matters’ if we do, although he emphasises that it is not a
‘genuine’ legal norm. He says that he prefers to express the first norm, rather as the
‘secondary’ norm, and the second norm – the ‘genuine’ legal norm – as the ‘primary
norm’. Thus, he says, only officials can genuinely break the law, because when we are
speaking of the citizen we are only talking of him or her committing a delict, which
is fulfilling the condition for the application of a sanction by an official. (In sum, law
applies to officials not to citizens. The citizen merely creates circumstances (e.g.
commits theft) that ‘trigger’ the legal power, or duty, of a judge to punish.) So, in one
of the most famous statements of jurisprudence in the twentieth century, he says:
Law is the primary norm, which stipulates the sanction, and this norm is not contradicted
by the delict of the subject, which, on the contrary, is the specific condition of the
sanction.
10.2.3 The basic norm (Grundnorm)

Going up the chain of validity, or hierarchy, of law in order to find its root of title, we
must at some point come to an end, says Kelsen. If we were to continue the process,
then we would never be able to establish the validity of any norm, because we would
have to go on to infinity. But, since we can in fact establish the validity of legal norms,
then we must be able to get back to some ultimate norm that confers validity upon
all other norms. This norm – and it must be a norm, because only norms can confer
validity on norms – Kelsen calls the Grundnorm, or the basic norm. How do we come
across it in practice? We get to it, says Kelsen, when we cannot, in principle, trace our
chain of validity back any further. (Kelsen’s argument here is a reductio ad absurdum:
since we can do X, then the assumption that we go on to infinity is false.) For example,
if we try to trace the root of title of a bylaw, then we eventually get back to a point
beyond which we can go no further, namely, to the point where we find that the bylaw
was ultimately validated by Crown-in-Parliament. What is the reason for the validity of
the enactments of Crown-in-Parliament? His answer is that this is just what we assume.
10.2.4 Comparison of Kelsen with Austin
Activity 10.3
Write a brief summary of Austin’s theory (see Chapter 3). Try to get it down to its
‘bare bones’. Now divide up what you have written in terms of an answer to each of
the following questions:
a. What is law (for Austin)?
b. What is the law of a particular legal system (for Austin)?
Kelsen’s theory is more plausible than Austin’s theory because the notion of a norm is
much more like that of a rule than that of a command. You might consider, therefore,
whether the following two advances are made on the command theory:
a. the idea of a norm, imposing duties or conferring powers upon officials, replaces
Austin’s crude idea of a predictable sanction with the psychological element of
fear, which cannot distinguish the social phenomenon of being obliged from that
of being under an obligation
b. the source of validity of the norm rests, for Kelsen, not on the fact that its is issued
by a habitually obeyed and determinate person or group of persons, but upon
another norm.
10.2.5 Comparison of Kelsen with Hart

Kelsen’s basic norm is not identified as a matter of fact but is, rather, a presupposition
that certain rules are valid. Kelsen explains the ultimate test of validity by saying that
we, or possibly the legal scientist or jurist, presuppose laws to be valid. This leaves
open the possibility of not presupposing the validity, say, of a revolutionary regime.
We can simply decide not to interpret the laws of the new revolutionary regime as
legally valid, whether or not they are effective, and whether or not they have general
support. This cannot happen with Hart. In his view, if the officials of a legal system
use a rule of recognition to identify valid law, then that is the test of validity of that
particular system.
The rule of recognition need not be presupposed to be valid. Hart thinks that is a
waste of time. All we need do is to point to the rule of recognition’s factual existence
as a test of validity. We just say that it is in fact accepted as the test of validity by the
officials of the United Kingdom legal system. In a sense the basic norm always has the
same content. It is that the constitution should be obeyed or, in the Kelsenian way of
expressing it, coercive acts ought to be applied in accordance with the constitution.
Kelsen, however, is loath to reduce the Grundnorm to a social practice, because one of
his primary concerns is to keep norm and fact (as well as law and orality) separate. On
the other hand, Hart’s rule of recognition sets out the factual test of legal validity in
any particular system, so it will differ in content from legal system to legal system.
Consider these two general principles for understanding Kelsen:
a. The basic norm is that (coercive) acts ought to be done (by officials) in accordance
with the historically first constitution; it is not the fact of the first constitution. (You
should be careful not to say that the constitution itself is the basic norm, because
the constitution is a fact, not a norm. Rather, the basic norm is: acts ought to be
done in accordance with the constitution.)
b. Effectiveness is not a sufficient condition for the validity of a legal order, but it is
a necessary condition (had it been a sufficient condition, then norm would be
reduced to fact).
Activity 10.4
Both of the propositions above are necessary for understanding Kelsen’s famous
theory of legal revolution. Answer the following questions about them:
1. Give an example of an ‘historically first constitution’.
2. Give an example of an ‘historically second constitution’? How would it relate to

the first?
3. Could an unwritten constitution ever be the ‘historically first’?
4. Why does Kelsen insist that the Grundnorm is not the same thing as the
‘historically first constitution’?
5. What is the difference between a ‘sufficient’ and a ‘necessary’ condition? (You

can answer this question by using common sense examples, drawing upon the
ordinary meanings of these terms.)
6. Could a legal system exist in any meaningful or useful sense even though it is no
longer effective? (Think of Roman law.)
Summary
Kelsen characterises law in a very idiosyncratic way. Law tells officials when and how
they should apply sanctions, and so it is officials who disobey laws, not citizens, who
only commit ‘delicts’. Kelsen’s theory of validity requires a ‘chain’ of validity ultimately
resting on a norm, the Grundnorm, that relies only on an ‘assumption’ of validity.
Kelsen’s theory of validity is thus different from Austin’s and Hart’s, since these two
jurists pose criteria of legal validity that rest on facts, not assumptions. Nevertheless,
Kelsen says that effectiveness, which is factually determined, is a ‘necessary condition’
of the existence of a legal system.

uu describe in detail each of the two major parts of Kelsen’s theory: law as a ‘specific
technique of social organisation’ and the theory of the Grundnorm
uu explain the following Kelsenian terminology: Grundnorm, ‘transcendental’,
‘epistemological’, ‘norm’, ‘ethical-political postulate’
uu compare and contrast Kelsen’s Grundnorm with Hart’s rule of recognition
uu explain Kelsen’s theory of validity and its relationship to effectiveness.
10.3 Legal revolution
10.3.1 Revolution and validity

This could be a full-scale bloody social revolution, perhaps with a period of civil war, or
a simple and bloodless coup d’état whereby a new government, or an old government
in a new guise, introduces a new constitution not in accordance with the previously
existing one.
Kelsen’s theory of revolution cannot be understood unless my second general

principle for understanding Kelsen’s basic norm is understood. It is that the
effectiveness of a legal system is a necessary condition for saying it is valid: Kelsen calls
this ‘the principle of legitimacy’. When a revolution occurs, Kelsen says that all the
old laws in force under the old regime lose their validity because the basic norm that
validated them can no longer be presupposed because the old regime is no longer
effective (see Kelsen’s General theory of law and state pp.117–21).
Thus, he says :
A revolution ...occurs whenever the legal order of a community is nullified and replaced
by a new order in an illegitimate way, that is in a way not prescribed by the first order itself
…From a juristic point of view, the decisive criterion of a revolution is that the order in
force is over-thrown and replaced by a new order in a way which the former had not itself
anticipated. (General theory, p. 117)
Be careful that you appreciate that Kelsen’s theory of revolution arises from his theory
of the relationship between validity and effectiveness: the old laws are no longer
effective; therefore, we cannot, logically, presuppose the existence of a basic norm
(Grundnorm) that makes them valid.
Equally, you should note that the new regime does not automatically have validity. It
is effective, de facto, but that isn’t sufficient to make us presuppose that a new basic
norm exists. We actually have to assume the new basic norm, even if unconsciously.
Note that Kelsen has to explain why it is that a lot of laws that exist under the old
regime will appear to continue to exist under the new legal order. He does this by
employing the idea of a ‘tacit’ vesting of validity of the content of the old laws, by
the new basic norm, if it is presupposed. Let us say that we presuppose the norms
of the new order – that is, the directions given to officials by the new revolutionary
government to apply sanctions in certain circumstances – to be valid. If we assume
that certain of the old laws are valid, then Kelsen says we can only do so – meaningfully
– by thinking of them as being validated by the new basic norm. So he says:
If laws which were introduced under the old constitution ‘continue to be valid’ under the
new constitution, this is possible only because validity has expressly or tacitly been vested
in them by the new constitution …
…the laws which, in the ordinary inaccurate parlance, continue to be valid are, from a
juristic viewpoint, new laws whose import coincides with that of the old laws. They are
not identical with the old laws, because the reason for their validity is different ...Thus,
it is never the constitution merely but always the entire legal order that is changed by a
revolution. (General theory, pp.117–18)
10.3.2 Kelsen’s theory of revolution applied in practice

There are several important cases in which significant reference is made to Kelsen’s
theory of revolution. You are not expected to read them (one of them, Madzimbamuto,
for example, is well over 1,000 pages long!) but you will be able to glean sufficient from
the secondary sources what the main facts are. You should, however, be able to use
the basic facts and basic decisions in them to work out for yourself whether Kelsen was
properly described in these cases and whether Kelsen’s theory has any relevance at all
to the proper resolution of these cases. Remember that the subject is jurisprudence
and not constitutional law, and if you were asked a question on Kelsen you should not
try to answer it case-law style. You only need be aware of the basic facts and the use
that was made of Kelsen in the cases.
The main case you should know is the first one, which was The State v Dosso PLD
(Pakistan Legal Decisions) 1958 SC 533. This case is difficult to get hold of, and in London
it only appears to be in the law library of the School of Oriental and African Studies. But
the facts given below should be sufficient for your purposes. Some variation on these
facts was repeated in all subsequent revolution cases.
In 1958, the President of Pakistan, by simply issuing a Proclamation, declared the 1956
Constitution to be null and void, dismissed the Cabinet and dissolved Parliament.
Shortly afterwards, he promulgated the ‘Laws Continuance in Force Order’ which
purported to validate all laws other than the 1956 Constitution. There were no other
claims to power. The Chief Justice, Muhammad Munir, referred to Kelsen’s General
theory of law and state and said (539):
If the revolution is successful in the sense that the persons assuming power under the
change can successfully require the inhabitants of the country to conform to the new
regime, then the revolution itself becomes a law-creating fact because thereafter its own
legality is judged not by reference to the annulled constitution but by reference to its own
success.
Apply the second principle of understanding Kelsen and you see immediately that the
Chief Justice is mistaken because he equates effectiveness (‘successfully requiring the
inhabitants …to conform’) with validity (‘…becomes a law-creating fact …’).
A similar series of events arose eight years later in Uganda in Uganda v The
Commissioner of Prisons, ex parte Matovu [1966] EA (East African Reports, also in
SOAS) 5l4 and there was a similar decision. And again in Rhodesia, in Madzimbamuto
v Lardner-Burke 1966 RLR (Rhodesian Law Reports) 756 it was almost the same,
except that the judges said the revolution was not clearly effective and so they
said the revolutionary government was ‘illegal’ but that they would recognise that
government’s acts as enforceable on the grounds of what they called the ‘principle of
necessity’ since someone had to govern and an illegal government was better than no
government at all. Eventually, in R v Ndhlovu SA 1968 (4) 5l5 (South African law reports),
the Rhodesian courts accepted that the illegal government had become ‘legal’
through effectiveness.
The point in both Dosso and Uganda as far as Kelsen’s theory is concerned, is that
each case decided a question of fact: did, in each case, the revolutionary government
control? Each court referred to the doctrine of effectiveness in Kelsen as though,
for Kelsen, the mere fact of effectiveness was sufficient for legal validation of the
revolutionary government’s acts. But this interpretation was contrary to what Kelsen
actually said. Remember that he said that while effectiveness was necessary for
validity, it was not sufficient, meaning that the mere fact of control was not enough.
Activity 10.5
Consider the following revolutionary scenarios, and decide what conclusions
Kelsen’s theory of revolution would have for them:
a. A rebel army seizes power and elects its commander Head of State. All
opponents are killed. The commander of state rules by general decree for five
years before being deposed.
b. Rebels within government illegally depose the prime minister, and impose their
own ‘constitution’. The balance of power is unclear for three months, until a
majority of the judges clinch the matter by declaring the rebel constitution to
be the ‘valid’ constitution. A significant number of judges remain opposed.
c. A former colony breaks away from an imperial power by declaring a

‘constitution’ that is contrary to the constitution of the imperial power. The
imperial power threatens sanctions, but nothing comes of it.
d. After 80 years of communism, capitalism returns in State A. X, an heiress in A,

offers up 120-year-old Government bonds for redemption.
10.3.3 Harris on legal revolution

There is an interesting view taken by J. W. Harris on all this. In Legal philosophies Harris
says that the mere fact that a set of norms can be characterised in Kelsen’s form as a
set of norms validated by a possible Grundnorm, provides ‘suggestive force’ for a judge
to make that decision. In his article ‘When and why does the Grundnorm change?’
([1971] Cambridge Law Journal, 125, at 132), Harris argues that Kelsen’s theory ‘assumes
that legal science is a socially useful activity’. One argument against Harris’s view is
that this assumption might not be allowed within Kelsen’s theory. Kelsen might well
have taken a strictly positivist line that recognising revolutionary governments is
an impure ‘political’ act and so legal science by design cannot make that move. To
recognise such a government might have been to ‘dress up an essentially political
decision in legal garb’, as several commentators said at the time. The alternative,
favoured by Kelsen, is that where law is silent, it should be seen to be silent, so that it
is crystal clear to all what is happening is politics, and not law.
10.3.4 Later cases on revolution

You could note later cases in which the ‘Kelsenian principles’ have been expressly
disapproved of. Perhaps the most important one is Jilani v The Government of Punjab
PLD 1972 SC l39 in which the Pakistan Supreme Court overruled Dosso and said that
Kelsen’s theory of legal revolution was merely a ‘jurists’ proposition about law’ and did
not authorise or lay down any legal norms, which were ‘the daily concerns of judges,
legal practitioners or administrators’. For a similar comment you should note Lakanmi
v A.G. (West) (1970) 5 Nigerian Law Quarterly l33 in the Nigerian Supreme Court.

uu explain Kelsen’s theory of revolution, applying that theory to some
constitutional cases of illegal change of government.
10.4 Criticisms of Kelsen
10.4.1 The ‘unity’ of Kelsen’s theory
The unification of civil and criminal law

According to Kelsen, all laws are directed to officials, who are required to apply
sanctions, and so no distinction is drawn between the criminal and civil law. He
says on p.50 of his General theory of law and state that ‘...the difference between
civil and criminal sanction – and, consequently, between civil and criminal law – has
only a relative character ...’ and on the next page, ‘in spite of the difference which
exists between the criminal and the civil sanction, the social technique is in both
cases fundamentally the same’. To use the one term – or notion – to link punishing a
person for committing a murder with making a person pay damages is, as Kelsen said
critically: ‘to purchase the pleasing uniformity and pattern to which it reduces all laws,
at too high a price’.
All laws directed at officials

In practice laws don’t seem to be primarily directed to officials. Kelsen realises this
because he allows for the existence of a ‘secondary, non-legal, norm directing citizens
how to behave; remember he says (General theory, p. 61) that ‘One shall not steal’; is
‘contained in’ the norm ‘if somebody steals, he shall be punished’ and then says ‘Law
is the primary norm, which stipulates the sanction’. On the same page, he says: ‘the
representation of law is greatly facilitated if we allow ourselves to assume also the
existence of the first norm’. But if it ‘greatly’ facilitates the representation of law to talk
of this ‘first norm’, why did Kelsen say it was not a true law?
Activity 10.6
Write three or four paragraphs commenting on the two criticisms in section 10.4.1.
You should consider carefully what possible advantages there could be in seeing
law in these two ‘unified’ ways.
10.4.2 The idea of a legal system in Kelsen’s theory

We don’t think of legal systems as changing every time there is an unconstitutional
change. We don’t believe that past laws continue by virtue of a ‘tacit’ testing of their
validity (this view is confirmed in Sallah v A.G. (1970) in Ghana, incidentally). The
criticism here is that there is no logical relationship between legal systems, at least as
we ordinarily think of them, and Kelsen’s legal orders, which are, simply, the sum total
of all the laws authorised by one, unique, basic norm. For example:
uu We can think of two legal systems (states) which are nevertheless dependent, in
Kelsen’s theories, on one Grundnorm for their validity. The United Kingdom and
New Zealand legal systems are separate and distinct legal systems yet the New
Zealand legislature gained its legislative powers from the UK.
uu We can think of one legal system where, nevertheless, according to Kelsen’s theory,
there should be two. The law-making powers of the revolutionary Rhodesian
legislature were not ‘derived from’ the 1961 Constitution. But there seems no
oddity or difficulty in just saying that there was an unconstitutional change of
legislative powers within the one legal system, at least where, as in the Rhodesian
case, the changes were initially very few.
You should note that there are some unconstitutional changes that seem to change
the whole identity of the legal system, such as, for example, the Bolshevik revolution
of 1917. There, it would be difficult to say that the Tsarist legal system was the same one
as the Communist one. Kelsen’s concept of law is really of the sum total of valid laws
in a particular society and it is clear that this ignores questions unrelated to questions
of validity, such as the history of laws, their purposes and the way that they relate to a
particular society’s culture and general way of living. In other words, while concentrating
on laws themselves raises questions of validity, concentrating on legal systems raises
questions rather of identity with particular societies, and the history of these societies.
Topic for discussion

The following question would be ideal for a short discussion among three or four
Jurisprudence students:
What is a legal system?
Is the idea of a legal system a significant one? If so, is it significant to practical lawyers?
When we think of the English legal system, we don’t first think of questions of legal
validity. It is more natural to think of ‘the jury system’, the Magna Carta, the notion of
the ‘fair trial’ or ‘the Englishman’s day in court’, or the position of the Crown and its
battle with Parliament over the centuries – that is, with the way the system works as a
whole.
On the other hand, international lawyers need to be able to identify states, and it seems
natural to equate states with legal systems. (A gold-mine of analysis of what we mean
by ‘legal system’ is Joseph Raz’s work The Concept of a Legal System. This book generally
takes the line that ‘legal system’ is not a lawyer’s concept, but a concept belonging more
naturally to history or sociology. Do you agree?) And, also, when we think of courts, we
think of the question of what counts as legal jurisdiction, which is surely a question of
validity. There is another set of questions, too, where we ask (as Fuller asked) whether
it makes any sense at all to suppose that an inherently evil and wicked legal system
(perhaps such as the Nazi legal system) really deserves to be called a ‘legal system’ as it
will lack, in Fuller’s terms, the moral ‘aura’ and ‘majesty’ that law should have.
10.4.3 The possible redundancy of the Grundnorm

1. Could the Grundnorm help us to identify (i.e. distinguish between) legal systems? It
does not do so if the points noted in section 10.4.2 above are correct.
2. Could the Grundnorm tell us what the valid laws of that legal system are? It might,
because, as you will remember, all laws, after a root-of-title search, must be traced
back to one Grundnorm. But this is a little general, since pointing to the Grundnorm
of the United Kingdom, which is, ‘coercive acts ought to be applied by officials in
ways from time to time determined by custom’, does not take us far. If we try to
work the other way, from the laws themselves, we need some means of identifying
first what the ‘laws’ are. It is difficult to see how the Grundnorm helps in relation to
identifying legal systems here.
3. Thirdly, perhaps the basic norm explains for us – unlike Austin’s theory – what
it means to follow a rule. Remember that Kelsen thought that Austin’s theory
wrongly derived ‘oughts’ of law from the ‘is’s’ of the fact of habitual obedience to
a sovereign. His answer was to invent the concept of a norm and to say that, since
norms only exist in the world of norms, they must therefore only be validated by
norms. This, of course, led him to postulate a hierarchy of norms which led him in
turn, in order to avoid an infinite regression, to postulate a basic norm. Thus, the
whole idea of the ‘oughtness’ or normativity of law is bound up in the idea of the
basic norm. Perhaps the basic norm is the ‘ultimate justification’: certainly Kelsen is
led towards this by the ‘root-of-title’ nature of his theory. That is, at the very end of
any process of justifying criticising someone’s deviation from a norm, according to
Kelsen you can justify it by pointing to an ultimate or basic norm that says that ‘you
ought to do this (i.e. apply coercive acts) in accordance with ...’.
Raz’s article, ‘Kelsen’s theory of the basic norm’ in Raz, The authority of law p. 122, is
helpful for discussing this problem and for linking Hart and Kelsen’s work on validity.
Raz says that Kelsen’s theory of the basic norm is a theory of ‘justified normativity’,
that is, that ultimately any statement that any person makes about law must be in his
own terms ultimately justified in terms of an assumption made by him that, legally,
this thing ought to be done. Raz says that he sees no reason why we should accept this
theory since we can more simply say that laws are normative because they consist of
rules. These rules do not have any ultimate justification but are merely identified by
the fact that some people – say, judges and lawyers – in fact identify them as laws: all
we have to do in order to identify what the laws are is look to the social facts of what
judges and lawyers do to identify them. Such a better theory, in order to explain how
it is that legal rules arise, Raz calls a theory of ‘social normativity’ and he says that Hart
has such a theory. (See Raz, J. The authority of law: essays on law and morality. (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1983) [ISBN 0198254938] p. 122.)
Hart makes the same point in The concept of law. There he says that no question of
validity can arise about his rule of recognition because it is the test of what is valid. All
that is necessary to do is to point to the fact that it exists. According to his theory that
means to point to the factual existence of a social rule among the officials of a system
which identifies what the valid rules of the system are. And, as Hart says:
To express this simple fact by saying darkly that its validity is ‘assumed but cannot
be demonstrated’, is like saying that we assume, but can never demonstrate, that
the standard metre bar in Paris which is the ultimate test of the correctness of all
measurement of metres, is itself correct. (The concept of law, p. 109)
These objections might be addressed if we think differently about what Kelsen
means when he says that the Grundnorm is a ‘transcendental presupposition’. The
argument would go roughly as follows: (i) we form knowledge of valid legal norms,
e.g. we cognise that, say, s.1 of the Theft Act 1968 is law (i.e. has objective normative
force); (ii) for this to be possible, we must presuppose the category of the Basic Norm
(iii) because we must presuppose it, then the Basic Norm is true. If this argument
(which is neo-Kantian in orientation but you do not need to worry too much about
the intellectual history of it) works, then many of the objections would disappear. The
Grundnorm would be established as independent from experience, independent from
morality, and uncontroversial in the sense that no one who does have cognition of
law would be able to reject it. There are, however, some basic problems with it, which
do not quite allow it to get off the ground. The most important of these problems is
that it relies on premises that one does not necessarily have to accept. This reading of
the Grundnorm can be quite demanding because it relies on philosophical literature,
with which you will not be familiar. Nevertheless, read the following piece for a clear
account of it: Stanley Paulson, ‘The neo-Kantian dimension of Kelsen’s pure theory of
law’ (1992) 12 Oxford Journal of Legal Studies 311-332, reprinted as the ‘Introduction’ in
Hans Kelsen, Introduction to the problems of legal theory (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992).
Activity 10.7
You will find it useful to read Raz’s article ‘Kelsen’s theory of the basic norm’ before
tackling this activity.
a. What is the difference between ‘social normativity’ and ‘justified normativity’?
b. In Raz’s theory, who precisely is supposed to ‘do the justification’?

uu explain Kelsen’s views on the unity of the legal system
uu comment, using your own view, on the general usefulness of Kelsen’s theory.

Question 1 Consider carefully Laski’s famous dismissal of Kelsen’s theory as ‘an
exercise in logic with no application in real life’. Do legal theorists have a social
obligation?
Question 2 Examine critically Kelsen’s theory of legal validity. Is the basic norm a
‘fiction’, as he once said it was?

Question 1 Harold Laski, the famous British historian, once said critically of Kelsen’s
theory that it was ‘an exercise in logic, not in life’. All too often in answering a question
like this, candidates do not consider what the question is getting at. Ignoring those
candidates who think this is just an excuse to ‘write all they know’ about Kelsen, it is
not enough just to consider what the practical use of Kelsen’s theory is. You need to
analyse a question like this. There are in fact three distinct questions here:
1. Is Kelsen’s theory of no application to ‘real life’?
2. Are theories of legal positivism in general of no application to ‘real life’?
3. Do legal theories have to have practical value to be successful?
In questions like these, you will gain marks for making the examiner aware that you
can unpick the various strands, as I have just begun to do. (There are other strands,
too. For example, could a theorist perform a ‘social obligation’ in producing something
of ‘no application in real life’, as when a brilliant mathematician solves a very difficult
problem which has no obvious application?) But whatever approach you take to these
questions, it is necessary to give a short and accurate account of Kelsen’s theory. You
should put the main focus on the ‘purity’ aspect of Kelsen’s theory, since that is the bit
that most people, following Laski, take to be more closely connected to ‘logic’ than
anything concerning ‘real life’. You might make a comment that logic does, of course,
relate to ‘real life’. After all, it is logicians who are mainly responsible for the Boolean
logic behind the computer language driving Gameboys and the robots in car factories,
for example. But it would be wise to structure your answer around the three questions
above.
Q1 Examine whether Kelsen’s theory makes sense of some laws with which you are
acquainted. Does the ‘root-of-title’ theory of legal validity make some sense of aspects
of the judicial review of administrative action? It seems to explain what we mean
when we say someone has acted ultra vires, for example. Then it would be sensible
to investigate what Kelsen means by ‘ultimate validity’ and that would bring you
naturally into a discussion of the Grundnorm. A reasonable conclusion might be that
the idea of ultimate validity in Kelsen is too obscure to have application in ‘real life’.
Q2 Here you need to broaden out. Legal positivism clearly offers a solution in
revolution cases (and other cases, too) because it allows for a sharp distinction to
be drawn between ‘political’ and ‘moral’ questions of allegiance to a revolutionary
government and questions of legal validity. An account of how Kelsen’s theory
works here, by referring to some of the constitutional cases in which his theory was
mentioned, would be helpful, although there would be no need to dwell at great
length on them. Perhaps some reference to the doctrine of ‘necessity’ would suggest
that legal systems can cope with such situations because there are ‘principles of
revolutionary legality’ (see Eekelaar, ‘Principles of revolutionary legality’ in Simpson
(ed.) Oxford Essays in jurisprudence: second series. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1973)
that can bridge a gap of constitutional illegality.
Q3 This question is a fundamental one about the methodology of legal theory and is
difficult. But you could give a brief account of the criticisms made of legal positivism
by the natural lawyers Fuller and Finnis and you could also mention Dworkin’s idea
of interpretivism. Their general criticism is that any theory of law that attempts just
to ‘describe’ the legal phenomenon, assumes a picture of law and its relation to the
world that is simply not true. These theorists think that reasoning about law requires
that what we see to be law must be a result of our striving to see what would be the
most socially useful way of viewing law. Fuller thinks it is in terms of compliance with
certain procedural values, Finnis is concerned with problems of social co-ordination
and Dworkin with seeing law as the assertion of individual rights. This third question
is the most difficult, but it is only part of the more specific question about Kelsen’s
theory, and so this section need not be very long (three or four paragraphs at most)
but a succinct account of Kelsen’s methodology, with some comment, would certainly
gain good marks.
Question 2 This question divides into two parts. The essential bit of the first part
is in the word ‘critically’. It requires a clear and accurate account of Kelsen’s theory
of validity, and so there is no need to refer to his general characterisation of law as
a ‘specific technique’ of ‘social organisation’ and, indeed, you would lose marks for
doing so since it is irrelevant to the question asked. Then you should, of course, tell
the examiner what it is about Kelsen’s theory that you find persuasive, and why, and/
or conversely what it is that you find unpersuasive and why. Don’t fall into the trap of
supposing that you are meant (by the word ‘critically’) to show the theory’s failings.
‘Critically’ means that you should adopt a particular attitude whereby you stand
outside the theory and appraise it. It is not inconsistent with this attitude to find that
Kelsen’s theory makes a lot of sense to you. (And, clearly, there is a lot of sense to
Kelsen’s theory. It is not that different from Hart’s theory, for example.)
Reflect and review



I can describe in detail each of the two major parts of

Kelsen’s theory: law as a ‘specific technique of social
organisation’ and the theory of the Grundnorm.   
I can explain the following Kelsenian terminology:

Grundnorm, ‘transcendental’, ‘epistemological’,
‘norm’, ‘ethical-political postulate’.   
I can compare and contrast Kelsen’s Grundnorm

with Hart’s rule of recognition.   
I can explain Kelsen’s theory of validity and its

relationship to effectiveness.   
I can explain Kelsen’s theory of revolution, applying

that theory to some constitutional cases of illegal
change of government.   
I can explain Kelsen’s views on the unity of the legal

system.   
I can comment, using my own view, on the general

usefulness of Kelsen’s theory.   
revise?
Must Revision
revise done
10.1 Background to Kelsen’s theory  
10.2 How Kelsen characterises law  
10.3 Legal revolution  
10.4 Criticisms of Kelsen  

Notes
11 The integrity and interpretation of law
Contents
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148
11.1 The idea of interpretation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149
11.2 Judge Hercules . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 152
11.3 Principles and policies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153
11.4 Arguments of ‘fit’ and ‘substance’ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 154
11.5 Concepts and conceptions: law as an argumentative attitude . . . . . . 155
11.6 The ‘one right answer’ thesis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 156
11.7 Evil legal systems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158
11.8 Dworkin on Hart’s Postscript . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158

Introduction
This chapter sets out the points over which candidates have in previous years had most
difficulty. The important point with Dworkin is not to underestimate his subtlety and
intellectual power. His theory directly contradicts legal positivism and he has spent
much of his career attacking that theory, which he thinks cannot do justice to the
power of legal argument. One of Dworkin’s problems is that nowadays legal positivism,
as a theory of law, has an appeal arising from its simplicity. Dworkin’s theory of law has
no ‘master rule’ such as the Grundnorm or Hart’s rule of recognition or something like
‘what the Sovereign commands’, and this makes the theory hard. It is much easier, too,
for someone to be told that ‘the law’ is that which is identified by ‘what the judges say’
than, as Dworkin says, by ‘the best theory of what our existing legal practices justify’.
And legal positivism has a simple appeal in practice, too. We can argue both sides of
the abortion debate from the moral point of view, but the legal debate is fairly simple.
We just need to read what the Abortion Act 1967 says to learn that, whatever the moral
position, in some circumstances, abortions are legally permissible.
But simplicity is not the only criterion of a successful theory. Perhaps law is not so
simple that a simple theory is possible. The moral of this is that throwaway lines in the
examination such as ‘Dworkin cannot be taken seriously because he says that there is
only one right answer in all law cases and where would you find it?’, which are all too
common in the examination, are superficial. Dworkin is attacking the sort of theories
which provide ‘places’ which tell you what the law is, such as the Grundnorm or rules of
recognition. Dworkin is difficult, but I should add, very rewarding.
Learning outcomes
uu state the difference between the pre-interpretive, interpretive and post-
interpretive stages of legal argument
uu describe the role of Hercules as the ideal judge
uu show the distinction between arguments of principle and arguments of policy
uu show the distinction between arguments of fit and arguments of substance
uu state the various interpretations of the House of Lords case of McLoughlin v O’Brian
uu explain and define integrity as a virtue of law and legal argument
uu understand the conception of law as primarily about justifying legal arguments
uu discuss Dworkin’s arguments against the ‘social sources’ theory of law
uu explain the purely defensive nature of the one right answer thesis.
Essential reading
Chapter 4: ‘Hard cases’ and Chapter 5: ‘Constitutional cases’.
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Law’s empire. (Oxford: Hart Publishing, 1998) [ISBN 1841130419]

particularly Chapter 3: ‘Jurisprudence revisited’, Chapter 5: ‘Pragmatism and
personification’ (especially pp.164–75), Chapter 6: ‘Integrity’, Chapter 7: ‘Integrity
in law’, Chapter 8: ‘The common law’ and Chapter 10: ‘The constitution’.
¢¢ Guest, S. Ronald Dworkin. (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1997)

[ISBN 0748608052] Introduction.
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Justice in robes. (Harvard University Press, 2006)

[ISBN 9780674027275].
Dworkin’s book, although largely made up of essays published previously, is worth

looking at for the introduction at least. In this, the author lays out a new series of
‘stages’ in which a theory of law is supposed to operate, so as to guide judges when
they decide cases. The stages are: a ‘semantic stage’, a ‘jurisprudential stage’, a
‘doctrinal stage’ and an ‘adjudicative stage’. These stages would appear to refine or
replace the pre-interpretive, interpretive and post-interpretive stages described in
Law’s empire.
Jurisprudence and legal theory 11 The integrity and interpretation of law page 149
11.1 The idea of interpretation
11.1.1 Dworkin’s definition of interpretation

It is best to begin with Dworkin’s statement that the essential idea in interpretation is
‘making the best of something that it can be’, and that this very abstract idea is to be
applied to the idea of law. We can describe the idea of making the best of something
in a number of ways. One way that Dworkin puts it is to say that we should place
something ‘in its best light’, and assume that the thing has some point. We then
examine it as thoroughly as we can to see what is the most sensible way of viewing it.
Dworkin gives a good account by of his views on interpretation in Chapter 2 of Law’s

empire. You will discover that he is primarily talking about ‘constructive’ or ‘artistic’
interpretation, and you should carefully distinguish this from ‘scientific interpretation’
(which you can largely ignore) and ‘conversational interpretation’. The latter is
important, since it is Dworkin’s criticism of the use of this form of interpretation for
law that forms the backbone of his arguments about interpreting legislation.
It is useful to start with Dworkin’s description of the simple social practice of

‘courtesy’. His account is intended to show that we adopt an ‘interpretive’† attitude †
‘Interpretive’: this is
towards social practices, by which he means the attitude of looking for the point of Dworkin’s personal spelling;
the practice. Courtesy changes when interpretation, as he says, ‘folds back into itself’ it is more usual to spell the
(see next section). He claims that the concept of interpretation is itself an interpretive word ‘interpretative’, but we
concept and that the interpretation of social practices is: will use Dworkin’s version
here.
uu like artistic interpretation, which interprets the thing created by people as
separate from them
uu unlike scientific interpretation, which interprets things not created by people
uu and unlike conversational interpretation, which interprets what people say (see
Law’s empire pp.422–25).
In order to interpret a practice, Dworkin says, one must engage in it in a committed

way. Otherwise it is only a report of various opinions that those engaging in the
practice have. So interpreting a practice is the report of neither individual or group
opinions.
11.1.2 Analytical attitudes

Dworkin says that we may understand a social practice in three analytical attitudes:
the ‘pre-interpretive’, the ‘interpretive’ and the ‘post-interpretive’. These important
ideas can be described by the use of a simple example.
Take the pre-interpretive attitude, first. Imagine a society in which there is a social
practice requiring that men doff† their hats to women. In this society, no attitude is †
‘Doff’: this old-fashioned
struck towards the value of the rule. No point is ascribed to it. An interpretive step may word means to remove the
now be described. We can now imagine that, after a while, people begin to ask hat as a courteous salute, for
questions about this practice of courtesy and what the reasons are for conforming to example when a man meets
it. It is easy to imagine, too, that people will differ about their understanding of it and a woman.
will argue among themselves about what the practice requires in particular cases.
It is useful to refer here to games, such as cricket, in which a description of the rules
can be distinguished from a discussion of its point. We may establish its point by
asking questions like: Is it fun? Does it test skill? Is it competitive? Is it educational?
Does it make money? On the other hand, when we want to know about how the
different rules are interpreted we ask questions like: Does bowling include throwing?
Or underarm bowling? and so on.
Dworkin says there is a third, post-interpretive phase where interpretation ‘folds back
into itself’ and has the effect of changing the original rule. So, in our example, some
people, perhaps through argument and discussion, will come to have an altered
perception of the original hat-doffing rule and this altered perception will lead them
to modify it. Imagine there arises a general agreement that the point of the hat-doffing
rule is that it is a mark of respect for women, because they are ‘more moral’ or ‘are
responsible for bearing children’, or whatever. There then might be a dispute about
whether the rule should be extended, so that it also becomes a requirement to doff
the hat to certain men in the society to whom respect was due – say, those who were
great jurists. Conversely, hat-doffing might be withdrawn from certain women who
were considered not to deserve respect, such as prostitutes.
These three phases of interpretation make it clear that Dworkin thinks there is a lot
more to understanding a rule than merely ‘describing’ it. You have, as it were, to
‘get under the skin’ of the rule, and determine its point. When you’ve done that, you
will discover that the point you ascribe to the rule will supply various principles of
interpretation. Note the sceptical possibility in Dworkin that such principles could
destroy the rule. Thus it is possible to imagine someone arguing that respect, properly
understood, perhaps as ‘equality of respect’, was inconsistent with anything so
deferential as ‘hat-doffing’, thinking that ‘hat-doffing’ was a male form of curtseying, as
if to the Queen. Such an argument could easily conclude by saying that the rule on hat-
doffing should be abandoned. Dworkin calls this sort of argument ‘internal scepticism’
(see Law’s empire, Chapter 2).
Activity 11.1
a. What does ‘get to the point of something’ mean? Try to express this idea in at
least three different ways, writing if necessary a paragraph to explain it, and
using a least one example.
b. Consider our understanding of the ‘hat-doffing rule’ at the ‘pre-interpretive’

phase. Is it possible to understand a rule if we don’t know its point?
Further reading
There are various critics of Dworkin’s idea of interpretation. You will gain a lot
(and be entertained) by reading anything that Stanley Fish has written on the
subject. See his Doing What Comes Naturally (1989) Chapters 4 and 5. Perry’s article
‘Interpretation and methodology in legal theory’ is very good: and you should read
something by Marmor. See the list of useful further reading on p. 187.
Note should also be taken of the following articles:
¢¢ Endicott, T. ‘Adjudication and the law’ (2007) 27 Oxford Journal of Legal Studies 311
which looks again at the power of judges to create law by imposing a new liability
upon a defendant.
¢¢ Green, L. ‘Dworkin’s fallacy, or what the philosophy of language can’t teach us

about the law’ (2003) 89 Virginia L Rev 1897.
¢¢ Green, L. ‘Does Dworkin commit Dworkin’s fallacy’ (2008) 28 Oxford Journal of

Legal Studies 33
which critically analyses the semantic theory lying behind Dworkin’s interpretivism.
¢¢ Bix, B. ‘Global error and legal truth’ (2009) 29 Oxford Journal of Legal Studies 535
in which Bix questions whether the law is objective in the sense that all lawyers could
be mistaken about what the law is, a possibility which seems to be required on one
reading of Dworkin. This is a short piece which sets out the question very clearly.
¢¢ Allan, T.R.S. ‘Law, justice, and integrity: the paradox of wicked laws’ (2009) 29
claims that on Dworkin’s characterisation of authority, properly understood, no truly

wicked law could really be a law. Therefore Dworkin should not endorse the view that
one has only a prima facie obligation to obey the law, which would be over-ridden in
the case of wicked laws. Rather, if a legal system shows integrity, one has an obligation
to obey its laws, because a system with integrity would not include wicked laws.
¢¢ Leiter, B. ‘Explaining theoretical disagreement’ (2009) 76 University of Chicago

Law Review 1215.
Leiter asks whether the theoretical disagreement identified by Dworkin is really

prevalent in the law; the article is interesting for the attention it focuses on the
reasoning of the judges in Riggs v Palmer.
¢¢ Hershovitz, S. (ed.) Exploring law’s empire: the jurisprudence of Ronald Dworkin.

This collection of essays contains a number of worthwhile essays discussing Dworkin’s

work and, perhaps more importantly, Dworkin’s replies. Maybe the most interesting
essays for the Dworkin scholar are two essays by Greenberg (Chapters 10 and 11)
because Dworkin agrees with Greenberg’s interpretation of his work.
¢¢ Plunkett, D. ‘A positivist route for explaining how facts make law’ (2012) 18 Legal
Theory 139.
Greenberg’s work is in turn discussed in this article.
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Justice for hedgehogs. (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press, 2011) [ISBN
9780674046719].
Dworkin sets out his latest views on law, politics and morality, and furthers his project
of giving an interpretive account of the fundamental value of human dignity which
gives them their shape.
Dworkin largely based his theory of law on the facts of disagreement and
argumentation in legal practice. This remained a constant in his work from the
beginning to its final stages.
¢¢ Plunkett, D. and Sundell, T. ‘Dworkin’s interpretivism and the pragmatics of legal

disputes’ 19(3) Legal Theory 242–81.
¢¢ Melissaris, E. ‘A social and legal theory of re-enchantment: interpretivism,

argumentation, and law’ (2012) 19(4) Constellations 609–23.
These two articles take issue with Dworkin’s account. In the former, it is argued
that Dworkin misunderstands the nature of disagreement in law and the latter that
argumentation is constitutive of the character of modern law rather than an indication
that law has a context-independent subject matter.
¢¢ Dworkin, R. ‘A new philosophy for international law’ (2013) 41(1) Philosophy &
Public Affairs 2–30.
Ronald Dworkin died in February 2013. Shortly after his death this article of his on
the grounding of international law was published. This essay is not only of interest to
theorists of international law but also to students of general jurisprudence. Rejecting
positivism in international law (which he considers as animating consent-based
theories), Dworkin applies his interpretivist theory of law to the international sphere.
He addresses specifically the obvious problem that in international law there is no
uniform institutional structure in the same way as one is identifiable in sovereign
states (recall that an already existing institutional structure is the first step in the
process of interpretation). Dworkin addresses this by introducing the principle of
salience: ‘If a significant number of states, encompassing a significant population,
has developed an agreed code of practice, either by treaty or by other form of
coordination, then other states have at least a prima facie duty to subscribe to that
practice as well, with the important proviso that this duty holds only if a more general
practice to that effect, expanded in that way, would improve the legitimacy of the
subscribing state and the international order as a whole’ (p.19). The ‘principle of
mitigation’ compels sovereign states to adjust their practices, when these are shown
to fall short of standards of moral rightness. This will gradually lead to a cosmopolitan
moral and legal integration (Dworkin also makes some tentative remarks as to how
this may be institutionalised).
A symposium on Dworkin’s Justice for hedgehogs was published in Jurisprudence:

An International Journal of Legal and Political Thought (2015) 6(2). See, in particular,
George Pavlakos’ contribution (although it is a rather demanding text), in which he
tries to highlight the tension between, on the one hand, Dworkin’s thesis that all
disagreement and argumentation about the ought is necessarily first-order (recall
what Dworkin believed about the possibility of neutral, descriptive jurisprudence from
the Archimedean point of view) and, on the other hand, Dworkin’s insistence that
morality is independent.
You might also be interested in the following article, which interprets Dworkin’s legal
theory as a version of Kant’s philosophy of right.
¢¢ MacInnis, L. ‘The Kantian core of law as integrity’ (2015) 6(1) Jurisprudence: An

International Journal of Legal and Political Thought 45–76.
Summary
Dworkin’s methodology in legal theory is explicit. He thinks law consists of human
practices and that the theorist’s job is to interpret them. ‘Interpret’ means, to him,
‘to make best sense of a practice’ so that we bring out its point; he calls this form
of interpretation ‘constructive’ or ‘artistic’ interpretation as opposed to ‘scientific’
interpretation which interprets things, and ‘conversational’ interpretation which
interprets what people mean. If a practice is placed in its best light, and no point to it
can be discerned, this, to him, is the best argument for its abolition.

uu state the difference between the pre-interpretive, interpretive and post-
interpretive stages of legal argument.
11.2 Judge Hercules

You should be particularly careful in understanding this part of Dworkin’s theory (see
particularly, Chapter 4 of Taking Rights Seriously). Many people, in particular lawyers,
who are introduced to Hercules in Dworkin’s article ‘Hard Cases’ simply dismiss him by
saying that no such judge ever existed. But why cannot we hypothesise the existence
of an ideal judge, against whom we can measure bad or distorted legal arguments?
Here a bad argument is one that, in the ideal world, a judge would not have made; a
good argument is one that Judge Hercules would have made.
It is necessary for Dworkin to posit an ideal judge because his theory is about law as
an argumentative attitude. He has to provide a scheme of argument which, amongst
other things, is sufficiently abstract to allow for controversial argument. The model
of Hercules is intended to point the way to correct legal argument. It is not that there
is a method which will come up with the right answer. If a problem is raised about
whether there could be such a right answer, it is one about the objectivity of legal
argument, not a criticism of the ideal model of Hercules.
The key to what Hercules does is in the following idea:

If a judge accepts the settled practice of his legal system – if he accepts, that is, the
autonomy provided by its distinct constitutive and regulative rules – then he must accept
some general political theory that justifies these practices. (Dworkin: Taking rights seriously)
What does Hercules do when constructing the arguments in all the hard cases put
before him? We can assume, says Dworkin, that he accepts most of the settled rules of
his jurisdiction, rules which lay out for us what are the familiar characteristics of the
law. For example, the constitutive and regulative rules that grant the legislature the
powers of legislation give judges the powers of adjudication and the duty to follow
previous cases, as well as all the settled rules of the various areas of law, such as tort,
contract and so on.
According to Dworkin, Hercules can produce theories underlying all these rules.
Democracy, in some form, clearly underlies the legal jurisdictions of the United States
and the United Kingdom. So we have there a basic justification for judicial coercion in
accordance with what the legislature has required. But this is only the beginning. The
justification for the common law doctrine of precedent lies in the idea of fairness, the
idea of treating people in a consistent way. The justification for particular applications
of statutes and the common law lies within more elaborately worked out theories, or
reasons, such as (to give some examples at random):
uu a theory of responsibility in the criminal law (and attendant theories about mens
rea and the idea of recklessness)
uu a theory of relevance in the law of evidence
uu a theory of the division of capital and income in the law of taxation
uu a theory of consideration in the law of contract.
The list is huge and is familiar to anyone who has studied law for long enough.
Activity 11.2
Would it matter for Dworkin’s theory if no judge had ever existed with Hercules’
powers?

uu describe the role of Hercules as the ideal judge.
11.3 Principles and policies

Dworkin is well known for the distinction he drew between legal arguments of
principle, which are arguments about a person’s rights, and arguments of policy, which
are arguments about community goals. The distinction is important to Dworkin:
uu it is intended to be largely descriptive of the distinctions that in fact are drawn by

lawyers
uu it represents for him the line to be drawn between the legitimate jurisdictional
activities of judges and the decisions of government as required by a properly
understood democratic separation of legislative and judicial powers
uu it represents his main assault on the most popularly understood version of

utilitarianism.
You should understand that principle and policy are ‘terms of art’ for Dworkin.
Technically, that means that he has stipulated his own particular meanings for them.
He gives definitions for them in Chapters 2 and 4 of Taking rights seriously and in Law’s
empire he accepts these definitions without modification. (You should read these
chapters of Dworkin and make a note of his definitions.)
Policy causes difficulties for different reasons, none of which strikes at Dworkin’s
thesis. Is the following such an absurd thing to say, however? Judges (and lawyers, and
law students) know they should not decide, or argue, on the kinds of grounds that
Dworkin calls policy grounds. They know that judges have a function specific to the
litigants, and specific to determining the rights of those litigants. They know that the
kinds of arguments relevant to making such determinations are different from those
which aim at some goal independent of the litigants’ rights. For example, it is clear
that a person has a right not to be assaulted, and it is also clear that she has no-right
that the government pursue a goal of decreasing expenditure on defence.
11.4 Arguments of ‘fit’ and ‘substance’

For Dworkin, legal argument in most hard cases will develop as the result of a tension
between two dimensions of argument, one that argues towards a fit with what is
accepted as settled law, the other that argues towards substantive issues of political
morality. For example, a decision to allow damages for negligently caused injury ‘fits’
the common law precedents, but where there are no precedents, a ‘substantive’
argument – one based on fairness, justice, reasonableness, etc. – would be advanced
for a particular decision. In a nutshell, ‘fit’ means ‘consistent with the settled law in
both statutes and past cases’. While it is the twin abstract injunctions to make the best
sense of law and to treat people as equals that propel Dworkin’s legal and political
philosophy, it is the distinction between substance and fit that forms the cutting edge,
for him, of legal argument.
It is necessary to follow Dworkin’s analysis of a case decided in the House of Lords,

that of McLoughlin v O’Brian (1983) 1 AC 410. In Dworkin’s view, substantive arguments
(relating to the people’s right to be treated as equals) have to be selected to fit (the
already existing case law). Mrs McLoughlin learned that her husband and children
were involved in a car accident. She set out for the hospital some miles away, and
when she got there she was told her daughter was dead and she saw that her husband
and other children were seriously injured. She suffered severe shock and she sued,
among others, the driver of the vehicle, whose negligence caused the accident.
Dworkin says that Judge Hercules might begin by considering the following six
possible interpretations of the case law:
1. Success (for the plaintiff) only where there is physical injury. [We can rule this out
immediately because it does not fit the law of tort. It is clear from the case law that
damages may be obtained for nervous shock.]
2. Success only where the emotional injury occurs at the accident, not later. [But,
says Dworkin, this would just draw a morally arbitrary line.] ‘Morally arbitrary
line’: here Dworkin is attacking the idea that there is law plus moral principle. He
thinks finding out what the law is, as opposed to what it ought to be, includes the
relevant principle.
3. Success only where a practice of awarding someone like Mrs McLoughlin would be
economically efficient. [This, Dworkin says, is a matter of government policy, and
so is irrelevant to the question of the plaintiff’s rights.]
4. Success only where the injury, whether physical or emotional, is the direct
consequence of the accident. [He rules this interpretation out because it
is ‘contrary to fit’, contradicting the clear case law, where there is a test of
foreseeability which limits the liability of the person who causes the accident.]
5. Success only where the injury is foreseeable (by the defendants).
6. Success for foreseeable injury, except where an unfair financial burden is placed
on the person who causes the accident. (By ‘unfair’, Dworkin means that the
compensation would be disproportionately large compared with the moral blame
in causing the accident.)
According to Dworkin, 5 and 6 are the best contenders. To develop the analysis further:
uu 1 and 4 are ruled out because they contradict the requirement of ‘fit’. The claim
that psychological trauma is not recoverable in a negligence action simply
contradicts the line of decisions. Thus the claim does not ‘fit’ the law. The same
goes for the claim that Mrs McLoughlin cannot succeed because her injury was
‘indirectly’ caused, since it is clear that many actions in negligence have succeeded
where the injury was indirectly caused (most nervous shock cases, in fact).
uu 2 is ruled out because it is an interpretation that relies on an arbitrary assertion

that only people at the scene can recover. It is ‘morally irrelevant’ to draw a
distinction between what happened in the case and the same scenario occurring
at the scene of the accident, since this was obviously in the ‘aftermath’ of the
accident (as the Court of Appeal said) and, of course, it was not as if Mrs McLoughlin
was a stranger to the victims.
uu 3 is ruled out because it relies on policy, not principle.
Summary
Dworkin illustrates his interpretive method for judges. The method is ideal, that is
to say, it is designed to illustrate what the best judging would be and so he employs
the idea of an ideal judge, whom he calls Hercules. Judges should ideally not assume
the role of the legislator as that is not right since judges, amongst other things, are
not elected to represent the community; they must not, therefore, decide issues of
policy because these aim at community goals. Their decisions should therefore ‘fit’ the
present law, and where there is controversy, they should resolve those controversies in
favour of what treats people with equality of respect.

uu show the distinction between arguments of principle and arguments of policy
uu show the distinction between arguments of fit and arguments of substance
uu state the various interpretations of the House of Lords case of McLoughlin v
O’Brian.
11.5 Concepts and conceptions: law as an argumentative

attitude
Dworkin argues that there are important contrasts between different levels of
abstraction. A ‘concept’, he says, is something that can be described more or less
without controversy. A concept is understood to be where ‘agreement collects around
discrete ideas that are uncontroversial employed in all interpretations’ (Law’s empire,
p. 71). A ‘conception’ is where ‘the controversy latent in this abstraction is identified
and taken up’ (same page). The conception is much more interesting in Dworkin’s view,
because it represents what the interpreter brings to it, as an exercise of judgment.
Activity 11.3
Being as exact as you can, try to describe ‘the concept’ of law, as Dworkin claims
it to be, that is, absent of controversy. Again, in Dworkin’s terms, what is Kelsen’s
‘conception’ of the concept, and what is Hart’s ‘conception’ of the concept?
11.5.1 Scepticism about interpretation

Dworkin then discusses scepticism about interpretation. A major challenge is that
there is no right answer because we cannot ascribe truth to what are essentially
non-provable matters of opinion. But, he says, there is no difference between saying
‘My opinion is that slavery is wrong’, ‘slavery is wrong’ and ‘that slavery is wrong
†
‘Global internal scepticism’
is true’. Only what he calls ‘global’ internal scepticism† threatens the enterprise of
(see Law’s empire) means
interpretation of law because ‘external’ scepticism is ‘disengaged’. In Chapter 3 of
being sceptical about the
Law’s empire, entitled ‘Jurisprudence revisited’, Dworkin famously declares that the
point or purpose of law in
point of law is to restrain governmental coercion. Coercion should only be used as
general.
licensed by individual rights flowing from past political decisions (cf. the ‘rule’ of law,
p. 93). There are three rival conceptions of law under this abstract banner:
uu conventionalism, which enhances predictability and procedural fairness. When

convention is spent, forward-looking grounds must be sought
uu pragmatism, which is ‘sceptical’ because it looks always to the future
uu integrity, which secures equality among citizens and makes community more
genuine.
Dworkin concludes that the relationship between law and morals is not semantic
but interpretive, arguing that, because we assume that the most general point of law
is to establish a justifying connection between past political decisions and present
coercion, the argument is just a debate among rival conceptions of law. He further
considers whether Nazi law is law. His answer is that interpretations are directed
towards particular cultures, and so we:
have no difficulty in understanding someone who does say that Nazi law was not really
law, or was law in a degenerate sense, or was less than fully law. For he is not then using
‘law’ in that sense; he is not making that sort of pre-interpretive judgment but a sceptical
interpretive judgment that Nazi law lacked features crucial to flourishing legal systems
whose rules and procedures do justify coercion. (pp.103–104.)
In other words, Dworkin thinks that Nazi law can be called ‘law’ as long as we
understand that Nazi law is not law in its fully developed sense, which includes a moral
content.
11.5.2 The argumentative attitude

A very abstract account of Dworkin’s approach to law is to think of his characterising
a way of thinking about law that is fundamentally argumentative. Dworkin urges us
not to think of law as nothing more than a huge quantity of rules. He urges us, rather,
to think of law as an attitude of mind, that attitude being one of argumentativeness.
This is an important and attractive feature of Dworkin’s work in legal philosophy. In the
final chapter of Law’s empire, he says:
Law is not exhausted† by any catalogue of rules or principles, each with its own dominion †
‘Exhausted’: here the word
over some discrete theatre of behaviour. Nor by any roster of officials and their powers means ‘completed described’,
each over part of our lives. Law’s empire is defined by attitude, not territory or power or in the same sense as to do
process. something ‘exhaustively’.
The sense Dworkin is getting at is the following. Observe some real, live, practical-
minded lawyers at work. Arguments are what make or break their day. The invention of
a new argument that makes sense, that works, is what an advocate thrives on, what a
judge understands and – very importantly – what a law student studies.
Summary
Dworkin’s interpretive account of law, coupled with his use of a difference between
‘conceptions’ and ‘concepts’, allows him to assess different candidates for law. He
dismisses pragmatism because it doesn’t make sense of rights, and conventionalism
because it lacks an adequate account of community. He thinks integrity makes best
sense: it accounts for rights, unites the community and allows a ‘rich’ account of legal
reasoning.

uu understand the conception of law as primarily about justifying legal arguments.
11.6 The ‘one right answer’ thesis
Essential reading
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Taking rights seriously, Chapter 13: ‘Can rights be controversial?’.
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Law’s empire, pp.76–86.
¢¢ Cohen, M. Ronald Dworkin and contemporary jurisprudence. (London: Duckworth,

1984) [ISBN 071561813X] Chapter 8 and pp.275–78.
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Taking rights seriously, pp.248–53.
¢¢ Dworkin, R. ‘On interpretation and objectivity’ in A matter of principle (1985) p. 1611.

This topic has to be treated carefully. Dworkin in fact never produced such a theory,
as he believes that everyone thinks there are right answers to questions, even though
they can’t be proved to be right. You have to make up your own mind. But consider
this: that most of what you assert, claim and argue consists of your stating what you
believe to be true. Thus even when you deny the ‘one right answer’ thesis, you are
claiming that the following statement is true: ‘there are no right answers’. So you will
always contradict yourself. You don’t have to agree with Dworkin, but you must be fair
to his point which is that most people act, talk, argue, speak, write, claim, assert, etc.
(particularly lawyers, he adds) as if there were right answers even where there is no
possible means of proving them to be right, or of satisfying all sides. Here are some
common responses, none of which on close examination is any good in his view:
uu ‘To say something is true, or right, is just a matter of opinion.’
Dworkin says the answer is yes, but presumably this is an opinion about what’s true or
right, and so this is perfectly consistent with there being a right or wrong of it.
uu ‘There aren’t true or right answers, only “better” answers, or “best” answers.’
The answer to this, in a legal case, is that if the better arguments favour the defendant,
why isn’t the right answer that the defendant wins?
uu ‘There aren’t true or right answers when you can’t prove them.’
The answer to this (as stated above) is that anyone who says this doesn’t think he or
she can prove that there are only true or right answers when you can prove them.
(This takes a bit of thinking; but just try to prove the truth or rightness of the first
sentence of this bulleted paragraph.)
uu ‘If you ever say that what you say is “true” or “right” you are only doing it to
persuade or convince people, but there is no real truth or rightness there.’
But why would they ever be persuaded, or convinced, if they thought that what you
said couldn’t possibly be true, or right? And wouldn’t you be more convincing if you
really believed that what you said was true?
Activity 11.4
If you are not convinced by the view that there is a right answer for controversial
questions, write down as many reasons as you can in favour of the view that there
are no right answers in such situations.
After having answered the questions in the last sentence of the feedback, ask yourself
whether murder is wrong because 100 per cent of people think it wrong. Is there any
fundamental difference in meaning between the statement ‘abortion is wrong’ and ‘in
my opinion, abortion is wrong’? If there is, what is it? Is there a difference between a
‘judgment’, say, that abortion is wrong and a matter of ‘taste’, say, that Chablis† goes †
Chablis: a quality white wine
well with trout? If so, what is the difference? from the Burgundy region of
France.
uu explain the purely defensive nature of the one right answer thesis.
Further reading
¢¢ Dworkin, R. Life’s dominion. (London: HarperCollins, 1993) [ISBN 0006863094]
pp.207–208.
¢¢ Waldron, J. ‘The irrelevance of moral objectivity’ in George, R. P. (ed.) Natural law

theory. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992) [ISBN 0198248571] especially pp.176–78.
11.7 Evil legal systems
Essential reading
¢¢ Dworkin, Law’s empire, Chapter 3: ‘Jurisprudence revisited’, particularly
pp.101–13 and the notes at pp.429–30.
Dworkin distinguishes between what he calls the grounds of law and the force of law.
The grounds of law are obtained by looking interpretively at the legal practices of
some community from the point of view of a participator in those practices. It would
be possible, from this standpoint, to work out how a judge in Nazi Germany might
decide a case. We can call him Siegfried J. Imagine some horrific hard case under the
Nuremberg laws,† say, to do with sexual relations between a Jew and a ‘true’ German †
The Nuremberg Laws on
national. We could take account of theories of racial superiority – widely believed in Citizenship and Race: on 30
Germany at the time – to provide detailed arguments about which way the case September 1935 the Nazi
should be decided. We could learn how to argue a case by learning the ground rules, regime in Germany brought
as it were, of an evil legal system. To do this means accepting that ‘evil law’ is still law. into force these laws, which
deprived Germans of Jewish
But to produce an argument from the grounds of law is not thereby to endorse it. A origin of their citizenship
full-blooded political theory, according to Dworkin, requires an explanation not only rights and gave legal backing
of grounds, but also of the moral force of law. He adds that philosophies of law are to discrimination against
usually unbalanced because they are usually only about the grounds of law. So, we can them.
judge Nazi law from Siegfried J’s point of view, in the sense that we can predict what
he will do, in the same way as we might imagine how a magistrate, in Roman times,
would decide a point of Roman law.
Do not fall into traps here. Some critics, Hart notably, have supposed that Dworkin
had merely created an amended, and confused, form of positivism. Thus, with some
vehemence, Hart says (Essays on Bentham p. 151):
If all that can be said of the theory or set of principles underlying the system of explicit law
is that it is morally the least odious of morally unacceptable principles that fit the explicit
evil law this can provide no justification at all. To claim that it does would be like claiming
that killing an innocent man without torturing him is morally justified to some degree
because killing with torture would be morally worse.
Dworkin’s reply to this is difficult and involves several strands of argument. His main
idea, I think, is an appeal to the fact that one problem of law is that we do have some
duties, sometimes, to obey laws which we believe to be morally bad. Why? Because
almost any structure of community power will have some moral force:
...the central power of the community has been administered through an articulate
constitutional structure the citizens have been encouraged to obey and treat as a source
of rights and duties, and that the citizens as a whole have in fact done so.
Is Dworkin a natural lawyer? If the question is whether Dworkin believes that making
moral judgments is partly about determining whether the community has a right or
duty to use its coercive powers, then he is a natural lawyer. If the question is whether
he believes immoral legal systems are not law, then he is not a natural lawyer. If the
question is whether he thinks that there is a natural answer out there, one which
supplies objectivity to moral and legal argument, he certainly is not a natural lawyer.
11.8 Dworkin on Hart’s Postscript

Dworkin’s general response is critical of Hart’s approach in the Postscript and his
criticism mainly focuses on Hart’s statement there that:
My account is descriptive in that it is morally neutral and has no justificatory aims: it does
not seek to justify or commend on moral or other grounds the forms and structures which
appear in my general account of law …
Dworkin says that this remark sums up legal positivism by affirming that moral
judgments are not needed to identify law. Even though the law thus identified might
have moral content, or may allow officials to incorporate their own moral judgments,
this is what is common to all theories known as ‘legal positivism’.
A noted representative of legal positivism is Hart’s student, Joseph Raz, together with
a number of Raz’s own students. Dworkin says that Raz’s account of law – that law is
identified ultimately by reference to ‘social sources’ – is not supported by legal practice
in the real world because, as you would expect Dworkin to say, lawyers characteristically
debate substantive (that is evaluative and moral) claims of law. Lawyers clearly do,
Dworkin says, argue for and against the claim, for example, that certain commercial
practices are unfair and therefore contrary to law. But the social sources method for
identifying law clearly tells lawyers that unfair practices are not contrary to law, because
there is no social source – a statute, or a judicial decision – that prohibits them. In other
words, the consequences of the social source theory are normative, for they direct a
result impinging upon people’s interests; namely, they tell people that it is not contrary
to law to engage in certain unfair practices. It is difficult to see how Raz could answer this
argument, except by denying that lawyers argue about what the law is.
In developing this point, Dworkin considers three senses in which legal theory might
be descriptive.
uu Legal theory may be ‘semantically’ descriptive.
Dworkin says that Hart’s claim could be read semantically as a project to find what
criteria of application of language rules lawyers would agree to be the rules they
actually follow in speaking about law’s prohibitions and permissions. But this project,
he says, would fail because the semantic claim assumes that there are ‘shared criteria’
for ascribing ‘the law prohibits, requires, etc.’ and there simply are no shared criteria of
application, for example, in the unfair commercial practices case.
uu There may be a ‘natural kind’ or ‘type’ for law, as there are natural kinds in science,
such as the DNA molecule, or tigers.
But, Dworkin says, Hart cannot be looking for the equivalent of a gene or ‘tigerhood’
for law. It seems really odd to think of there being the equivalent of a DNA molecule,
for example, for any evaluative proposition, say, such as liberty. And if there is no DNA
for liberty, then it would seem that there is none for law, either.
uu Hart may be engaging in empirical generalisation.
No, says Dworkin, Hart cannot have been making an empirical generalisation in the
sense of making discoveries from empirical studies of the patterns and repetitions
in collected data. In any case, if he were, this poses an initial stumbling block, since
clearly neither Hart, nor any of his followers, has engaged in the amassing of such data.
There is no empirical investigation in The concept of law. More importantly, if there were
empirical generalisations they would fail to account for the empirical data constituted
by lawyers’ characteristic behaviour in arguing for and against legal propositions.
‘Soft positivism’
There are also the so-called ‘soft positivists’, such as Jules Coleman. They defend the
social sources thesis for identifying law in the opposite direction from Raz, whose
theory is sometimes known as ‘hard’ or ‘exclusive’ positivism. Their view engagingly
addresses the phenomenon of moral disagreement about which legal rules apply in
particular circumstances by saying – in general agreement with Hart’s remark that the
social sources that identify the US Constitution ‘incorporate moral standards’ – you
make a moral judgment to identify the rules identified by the social sources. In short,
you resolve the unclarity apparent in the Eighth Amendment’s prohibition against
‘cruel and unusual punishments’ by making a moral judgment as to what the social
sources criterion requires. Dworkin says that this is vacuous because, first, it means
only that ‘judges should decide cases in the manner that judges should decide cases’
(which, in Law’s empire, he says ‘collapses into integrity’) and second, in any case, it
supposes wrongly, for example in the United States, that there has to be a convention
among judges that this is the way they should decide cases.
To sum up these points, Dworkin says it is ‘deeply unclear’ to him how Hart, or his
followers, could:
uu suppose that propositions about the ‘sources’ thesis could be of a different logical
character from ordinary propositions of law
uu think that their project was ‘descriptive’.
(These issues are discussed in greater depth in Dworkin’s article reviewing Coleman’s
book The practice of principle: in defense of a pragmatist approach to legal theory. (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2001) [ISBN 0198298145] which appears in Volume 115 (2002)
Harvard Law Review 1655. In particular, you will find Dworkin’s account of what he
regards as mistaken interpretations of his work in his Appendix to this Review, entitled
‘Points of personal privilege’.)
Activity 11.5
Consider ‘soft positivism’ and Dworkin’s argument against it. Then check Hart’s
famous definition of legal positivism on the first page of Chapter 9 of The concept of
law and ask yourself whether ‘soft positivism’ and that definition are reconcilable.
Summary
Dworkin thinks there are right answers to legal and moral questions because that
makes sense of the way lawyers – and indeed all of us – act and speak. Further, since
evil and moral legal systems share common characteristics, it makes no sense
to say that evil legal systems are ‘not law’, although evil legal systems will lack
moral justification for coercive acts done in their name. It follows that Dworkin is
not a natural lawyer, since he does not think that there is a ‘natural morality’ that
determines what law is, and he thinks that evil legal systems exist. But it doesn’t follow
from this that he is a positivist. In answer to Hart’s claim in the Postscript to The concept
of law, and Raz’s claim that law is identified by a social source alone, Dworkin says that
without a reference to what the point of identifying law with a social source is, it is
impossible to find what that social source is. It couldn’t be identified by the meanings
of words, since we disagree about these; nor could it be identified as some sort of
common element, like a DNA molecule, as there is clearly none for law; nor, finally,
can Hart or Raz be making empirical generalisations because they offer no empirical
evidence. Hart’s further claim that moral principles can be part of the law – what is
known as ‘soft positivism’ – would require, Dworkin says, making moral judgments in
identifying the law, and so would be contrary to Hart’s definition of legal positivism.

uu discuss Dworkin’s arguments against the ‘social sources’ theory of law.
Further reading
¢¢ Guest, S. Review of Law’s empire. (1988) Law Quarterly Review 155.
¢¢ Marmor, A. Interpretation and legal theory. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992)

[ISBN 0198256914] Chapters 3 and 4 (especially pp.73–84).
¢¢ Perry, S. ‘Interpretation and methodology in legal theory’ in Marmor, A. (ed.)

Law and interpretation: essays in legal philosophy. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1995)
[ISBN 0198258755].
¢¢ Cohen, M. (ed.) Ronald Dworkin and contemporary jurisprudence. (London:

Duckworth, 1984) [ISBN 0715618172] Chapters 5, 6 and 9 (and see the replies by
Dworkin at the back of this book to these three articles).
¢¢ MacCormick, D. N. Legal reasoning and legal theory. (Oxford: Oxford University

Press, 1978) [ISBN 0198760809] Chapters 4 and 11.
¢¢ Dworkin, R. A matter of principle. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1985)
[ISBN 0674554604] Chapter 1: ‘Political judges and the rule of law’.
¢¢ Fish, S. Doing what comes naturally. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1989)

[ISBN 019812998X].
¢¢ Waldron, J. Law and disagreement. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001)

[ISBN 0199243034].
¢¢ Dworkin, R. ‘Hart’s postscript and the character of political philosophy’ (2004) 24

is a long and important article that remarks on Hart’s approach to jurisprudence and
focuses on how the Postscript to The concept of law should be understood. In particular,
he repeats his line that Hartian legal philosophy, as expounded in The concept of
law, is best understood as a morally committed construction of a conception of law
that served certain practical purposes. Another important discussion is to be found
in Dworkin’s development of the idea of legality (pp.23–37). Immediately after this
article in the same issue of the journal is one by David Dyzenhaus taking up the same
general theme (‘The genealogy of legal positivism’ p.39). Dyzenhaus argues here that
the ‘positivist tradition’ is best understood as a political tradition that is at odds with
the way in which some contemporary positivists interpret that tradition. These two
articles are powerful, clear and readable. They should not be missed.
¢¢ Patterson, D. ‘Dworkin and the semantics of legal and political concepts’ (2006)
26 Oxford Journal of Legal Studies 545.
Here, Patterson considers Dworkin’s treatment of concepts in the above article and
argues forcefully for the conclusion that it undermines his theory of law as integrity.
The argument is straightforward and the writing accessible.
¢¢ Schauer, F. ‘The social construction of the concept of law: a reply to Julie Dickson’
(2005) 25(3) Oxford Journal of Legal Studies 493 (see above, Chapter 1, in relation
to the article by Julie Dickson).
Schauer argues that there is no ‘fixed’ concept of law, only a shifting variable which is
chosen with reference to its instrumental value.

Question 1 What does Dworkin mean by ‘integrity’? How does integrity in legal
decision-making serve the ends of justice?
Question 2 Is there any sense in the idea that there are right answers to legal
cases? Discuss with reference to a case that you think was wrongly decided.
Question 3 What do you understand the difference to be between ‘principle’ and
‘policy’? Can cases be decided solely on the ground of policy?

Question 1 Pay attention to the two separate questions here. The first asks
straightforwardly for an explanation of Dworkin’s account of integrity, but the second
is a more difficult question. Discuss the two senses of ‘integrity’ that Dworkin uses:
‘legislative integrity’ and then ‘judicial integrity’. It is easier to start by describing
‘legislative’ integrity since you can then contrast justice and fairness with integrity
(remember Dworkin’s derivation of integrity as a form of ‘internal’ compromise
between the requirements of justice in the ideal world and the requirements of
fairness in the real world). Then it is a matter of showing that ‘judicial’ integrity is the
virtue that judges should have in interpreting law: they should ‘make sense’ of the law
by assuming that the law ‘speaks with one voice’. If you approach the question this
way, you are in a position to comment on whether ‘integrity in legal decision-making’
(in other words, ‘judicial’ integrity) can ‘serve the end of justice’. The question is hard,
as it is problematic in Dworkin what the precise relationship between justice and
integrity is. At one stage in Law’s empire he appears to take the view that if integrity
suggests a result that justice does not, judges may have to ‘lie’ in order to bring
about the ‘right result’. It is problematic to suppose that judges should sometimes
lie. Waldron in his Law and disagreement (see page 187) takes the view that integrity
is a useful way of reconciling different conflicting views of justice. It is doubtful if
Dworkin would like this since his view is presumably that only right perceptions of
justice count, and so there should not be a reconciliation effected with anything that
is unjust.
Question 2 The marks for this question are in the second part. You should not
attempt a question like this unless you can think of a wrongly decided case. There is
an argument for being bold in an examination. Don’t assume that you can only display
your intelligence and knowledge by drawing upon prepared answers (indeed, this
can be a recipe for disaster, where the examiner can discern you are merely parroting
an essay you had previously written). Think of a case that was, in your view, wrongly
decided. Say why you think so, and then consider the implications of what you say if
you didn’t think that what you said was true. It will be the way you handle this idea
that will produce good marks for you. Here are some points to consider:
uu What does it mean to say that the court ‘got the law wrong’ when that court’s
decision is final? You could refer to the distinction Hart drew in Chapter 1 of his
Essays in jurisprudence and philosophy (his inaugural lecture, entitled ‘Definition and
theory in jurisprudence’) between a statement of the law made by a judge and one
made by anyone else.
uu Is there any sense in which you could prove or demonstrate to the satisfaction of
all that the court got the law wrong?
uu By what means would you attempt to persuade, convince or otherwise bring round
anyone who thought that the court was right in its judgment?
Question 3 This question requires some subtlety in addressing the difference

between how you understand policy arguments, and whether the way you
understand them is the same as the way Dworkin understands them. Dworkin’s
definitions of principle and policy are technical, which is to say they don’t rely on
the way these terms are ordinarily used. Much the best way of answering this sort
of question is to use examples from decided cases. You can start with McLoughlin v
O’Brian since Dworkin uses that case, and it was a case where the Court of Appeal
addressed the question whether courts, as opposed to Parliament, should decide on
the ground of policy; but you will make a better case for the examiner that you have a
good grasp of this area if you produce cases of your own.
Reflect and review



I can state the difference between the pre-interpretive,

interpretive and post-interpretive stages of legal
argument   
I can describe the role of Hercules as the ideal judge   
I can show the distinction between arguments of

principle and arguments of policy   
I can show the distinction between arguments of fit and

arguments of substance   
I can state the various interpretations of the House of

Lords case of McLoughlin v O’Brian   
I can explain and define integrity as a virtue of law and

legal argument   
I can understand the conception of law as primarily

about justifying legal arguments   
I can discuss Dworkin’s arguments against the ‘social

sources’ theory of law.   
I can explain the purely defensive nature of the one right

answer thesis.   
revise?
Must Revision
revise done
11.1 The idea of interpretation  
11.2 Judge Hercules  
11.3 Principles and policies  
11.4 Arguments of ‘fit’ and ‘substance’  
11.5 Concepts and conceptions: law as an argumentative

attitude  
11.6 The ‘one right answer’ thesis  
11.7 Evil legal systems  
11.8 Dworkin on Hart’s Postscript  

Notes
12 Social theory and law
Contents
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 166
12.1 Thinking of law and society: encountering a case . . . . . . . . . . . . 167
12.2 Internal and external accounts, insiders and outsiders . . . . . . . . . 170
12.3 Durkheim and the consensus theory of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 172
12.4 The rationalisation of the world: the analysis of Max Weber . . . . . . . 176
12.5 The transformation of jurisprudence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 180

Introduction
It should be by now apparent that there is no single strand to contemporary legal
theory, or jurisprudence. While the dominant tradition in modern Western society
that this module guide is concerned with has been a broadly liberal one – originating
with the breakaway from classical natural law theories with the prototype command
theory of Thomas Hobbes and moving through the utilitarianism of Bentham, Austin
and John Stuart Mill to the work of Kelsen, Hart, Ronald Dworkin and Joseph Raz –
many of the exciting insights today come from the incorporation of sociological
perspectives. Those perspectives seek to find law as ‘it really is in society’ rather than
to deal with law on the terms that appear in the law books (whether those books are
textbooks, case reports or doctrinal commentaries) or look to a philosophical analysis
of law.
It is, of course, impossible to do justice to the array of work being undertaken in legal
theory in any one course, but the central theme of sociological accounts of law is that
law can not be analysed on its own terms. Moreover, this approach says that traditional
jurisprudence may be seen as an insider’s view of law while social theoretical accounts
are outsiders’, or external accounts of the operation of law. This chapter will put
the argument for conceiving of law in terms of social theory broadly, and then look
in more detail at two of the ‘founding fathers’ of sociology, Max Weber and Emile
Durkheim. Further chapters will consider Karl Marx, critical legal studies, feminism
and critical race theory, all of which can be seen as programmes that undercut the
traditional canon of jurisprudence or, at least, add dangerous supplements.
Learning outcomes
uu explain the difference between internal and external accounts of law (insiders
and outsiders)
uu identify the key concerns of social theoretical accounts of law
uu describe the central ideas of Emile Durkheim and Max Weber
uu explain how the ideas of Durkheim and Weber might be relevant to a
contemporary analysis of the role of law in society.
Essential reading
¢¢ Penner, et al., Chapter 6: ‘Classic social theory and law’.
¢¢ Freeman, Chapter 8: ‘Sociological jurisprudence and the sociology of law’.
¢¢ Morrison, pp.275–90, on Weber.

Jurisprudence and legal theory 12 Social theory and law page 167
12.1 Thinking of law and society: encountering a case

In the example that follows, I ask what we can learn from the events surrounding the
voyage of the slave ship Zong. This is one of the most infamous instances of cruelty on
the so-called ‘middle passage’† of the Atlantic slave trade, and the way in which this †
The Atlantic slave trade
came before the English courts was equally controversial. was a highly profitable
business between European
12.1.1 The voyage of the Zong† ship owners and traders,
north and south American
The facts are indisputable. The Zong was a slave ship owned by James Gregson and a and Caribbean traders
number of others who were directors of a large Liverpool slaving company. In 1781 it and plantation owners
travelled the triangle from Liverpool to West Africa and onwards with a cargo of slaves and certain African tribal
to the Caribbean, thence to return with a cargo of sugar for the English tea-houses. The leaders. The ‘middle passage’
Zong sailed from West Africa on 6 September with a cargo of 470 slaves bound for was a term created in the
Jamaica. When it approached its destination some 12 weeks later more than 60 eighteenth century by British
Africans and seven of the 17-man crew had died.† The captain, Collingwood, had packed sailors for the middle part
even more slaves on board than usual. Shyllon (1974) states that ‘chained two by two, of the triangle from England
right leg and left leg, each slave had less room than a man in a coffin’. The result was a to Africa, Africa to America/
high mortality level, for both black and white, but commentators consider it nothing Caribbean, and America/
like the catastrophic losses suffered by some other slave ships. The British ship the Caribbean back to England.
Hero, for example, once lost 360 slaves (over half of its cargo), while the Briton lost over The terrible conditions on the
ships carrying slaves on the
half of its 375 slaves on one voyage. The main cause of death in the middle passage was
‘middle passage’ were such
generally a terrible dysentery that the sailors called the ‘flux’, though some slaves
that the death rate for slaves
could be lost by being beaten to death or in the case of women, killed when resisting
was on average 168 per 1,000
rape. Many slaves also tried to starve themselves to death as an act of resistance and
slaves loaded in Africa.
had to be force-fed using mechanical devices that prised open their jaws.
On 29 November Luke Collingwood called his officers together and put forward the †
You may like to read the
suggestion that sick slaves should be jettisoned – thrown overboard – in order to novel created by Fred
secure the rapidly dwindling supplies of water and to allow the shipping company to D’Aguiar Feeding the ghosts
claim their loss on insurance. In Walvin’s words (1992): ‘It was, even in the age of the (London, Chatto and Windus,
slave trade, a grotesque suggestion.’ 1997 [ISBN 0701166681])
loosely based on the Zong
Given the conditions, there were plenty of slaves who appeared sick. An abolitionist
facts. D’Aguiar imaginatively
account reported that, in addition to the dead, ‘a great many of the remaining slaves
recreates the voyage from
…were sick of some severe disorders, and likely not to live long’. Collingwood told the perspective of one of the
his officers: ‘if the slaves died a natural death, it would be the loss of the owners captives.
of the ship; but if they were thrown alive into the sea, it would be the loss of the
underwriters’. As a ‘humane’, though obviously specious, justification, he suggested †
A voyage with favourable
that ‘it would not be so cruel to throw the poor sick wretches into the sea, as to suffer
trade winds from Senegambia
them to linger out a few days, under the disorders with which they were afflicted’. Of
to Barbados might take as
course, no such proposal was made to put an end to the suffering of sick crewmen.
little as three weeks, but a
Charles MacInnes (1934) explains that such actions were not uncommon:
ship travelling from Guinea or
If the ship proved unseaworthy or if the food and water began to run short in Angola might be becalmed by
consequence of an unduly prolonged voyage resulting from calms, adverse winds, or any lack of wind or be driven back
other difficulties, a simple remedy lay at hand. A sufficient number of slaves would be by storms and take as long as
thrown overboard. three months.
What was the law? In that same year, a digest of insurance laws and practice was
published in London on behalf of the Clarendon Press of Oxford. It stated:
The insurer takes upon him the risk of the loss, capture, and death of slaves, or any other
unavoidable accident to them: but natural death is always understood to be excepted:– by
natural death is meant, not only when it happens by disease or sickness, but also when the
captive destroys himself through despair, which often happens: but when slaves are killed
or thrown into the sea in order to quell an insurrection on their part, then the insurers
must answer. (John Weskett, A complete digest of the laws, theory and practice of insurance,
1781, p. 525)
So the ‘law’ was clear! But was sickness alone a sufficient reason for drowning the slaves?
Collingwood’s excuse was that the ship was running short of water, due in part to his
own navigational error that had mistaken Hispaniola for their destination, Jamaica.
His argument was that to kill the sick slaves would mean that the healthy could be
sustained on the dwindling supplies. Not to kill the slaves would be to jeopardise the
safety and health of everyone on board. To the commentators, this is an unconvincing
line of self-justification not least because water was not rationed until after the killing
of the slaves had begun and, secondly, because no attempt was made to put ashore
to replenish supplies. Moreover, according to the sailors’ accounts, before all the
sick slaves had been killed, ‘there fell a plentiful rain’, which was admitted to have
‘continued a day or two’. They collected six casks of water, which was ‘full allowance
for 11 days, or for 23 days at half allowance’. When the Zong landed in Jamaica on 22
December, it had 420 gallons of water on board. It had left in its wake 131 drowned
slaves.
According to reports, some of the crew at first objected to the proposal to drown
the slaves but Collingwood insisted, and the killings began. The crew selected those
who ‘were sick, and thought not likely to live’. On 29 November, the first batch of 54,
was pushed overboard. A day later 42 more were drowned, and on the third day 26
were thrown into the sea. ‘And this act was done, it seems, in the sight of many of the
unhappy slaves who were upon deck at the time. And such an effect had the sight
on them, that apprehending a similar fate, and dreading, it would seem, the being
fettered, ten more of them in despair jumped overboard, and were likewise drowned.’
One of the jettisoned slaves managed to catch on to a rope and climbed back safely on
board. In Walvin’s words: ‘A total of 131 slaves were coolly murdered from the deck of
a Liverpool vessel, for no good reason save the economic calculations of Captain Luke
Collingwood and the physical compliance of his crewmen’.
Walvin has no trouble calling this ‘murder’, but was it murder in the eyes of the law?
Granville Sharp was a well-known individual living in London who had spent the
best part of 20 years campaigning against the existence of slavery in England. He had
already had a notable success in putting forward an escaped black slave for a writ
preventing his ‘masters’, who had recaptured him, taking him away from England. That
case, Sommersett’s Case, has gone down in history as stopping slavery in England with a
phrase usually noted as coming from Lord Mansfield that:
the air of England has long been too pure for a slave, and every man is free who breathes it.
Every man who comes into England is entitled to the protection of English law, whatever
oppression he may heretofore have suffered, and whatever may be the color of his skin.
(Sommersett’s Case, 1772, 20 State Trials, 1)
On 19 March 1783 Sharp was visited by Olaudah Equiano (sometimes called Gustavus
Vassa), an African and former slave who was emerging as the most prominent
spokesman for the black community living in London: ‘Gustavus Vassa, Negro, called
on me with an account of 130 [sic] Negroes being thrown alive into the sea, from on
Board an English Slave Ship’. The Zong affair was already before the courts some two
weeks earlier, when the case of Gregson v Gilbert had been heard in the Guildhall in
London. Gregson, on behalf of himself and the other ship owners, were claiming for
the loss of their slaves (£30 each) from their underwriters (Gilbert). The latter refused
to pay, and the case was presented as a simple matter of maritime insurance.
The jury in that trial sided with the ship owners, ordering the insurance company to
pay compensation for the dead slaves. In a letter to the Morning Chronicle, an eye-
witness at the trial wrote: ‘The narrative seemed to make every one present shudder;
and I waited with some impatience, expecting that the jury, by their foreman, would
have applied to the Court for information how to bring the perpetrators of such a
horrid deed to justice.’ Perhaps one way out was the suggestion that Captain Luke
Collingwood – by now safely dead – ‘was in a delirium, or a fit of lunacy when he gave
the orders’. Whatever the reason, the case retained its basic inhuman simplicity: a
claim for insurance. Yet this correspondent was absolutely correct to argue in the
newspaper that the Zong affair transcended the particularities of an argument about
compensation:
That there should be bad men to do bad things in all large communities, must be
expected: but a community makes the crime general, and provokes divine wrath, when it
suffers any member to commit flagrant acts of villainy with impunity …it is hardly possible
for a state to thrive, where the perpetration of such complicated guilt, as the present, is
not only suffered to go unpunished, but is allowed to glory in the infamy, and carries off
the reward for it.
Walvin’s language is clear and is worth reading for his invocation of the close ties
between the law and the economic system:
The crime had been committed on board a British ship, and was so startling in the crudity
and extent of its violence that it clearly shook observers. But where would the pursuit
of criminality end if, let us say, the crew were arraigned for their crimes? Although the
murder of African slaves was unusual, it was common enough in pursuit of slaves, in
securing the safety of a slave ship, in defeating ship-board resistance – to say nothing of
the endemic violence which helped keep slavery in place throughout the American slave
colonies. Slavery begat the slave trade, and the slave trade was, in origin, in conduct and in
its very being, the crudest of violations, which encompassed, when necessary, the death
of its victims. For the system to survive in its economic viability, some slaves had to pay
the ultimate sacrifice. It took no great leap of the imagination to appreciate that the logic
of pursuing the murderers of the slaves on the Zong would be the first tug which would
unravel the entire garment of the slave system. And in some respects this is precisely what
happened, for it was around the small band of men of sensibility, outraged by events on
the Zong, that there developed the first powerful body of abolitionist feeling and action.
The line of dissent from the Zong to the successful campaign for abolition was direct and
unbroken, however protracted and uneven.
Granville Sharp tried to get together a body of like-minded men to pursue the
prosecution of the Zong sailors. He was not to succeed. The Zong affair came to trial
again on a matter of insurance for the underwriters refused to pay the compensation
ordered, and the matter came before Lord Justice Mansfield sitting with two other
judges in May 1783. The slave-owners, claiming the insurance on the slaves, were
represented by none other than John Lee, the Solicitor-General. What was Lee’s
professional and ethical interest in the case? He certainly seemed aware of the
potential implications of the case. At the trial he turned towards Granville Sharp in
the public gallery and argued that there was a person in court who intended to bring
on a criminal prosecution for murder against the parties concerned: ‘but it would be
madness: the Blacks were property’. Walvin describes the line he adopted as ‘casually
dismissive’:
What is all this vast declaration of human beings thrown overboard? The question after all
is, was it voluntary, or an act of necessity? This is a case of chattels or goods. It is really so:
it is the case of throwing over goods; for to this purpose, and the purpose of the insurance,
they are goods and property: whether right or wrong, we have nothing to do with it. This
property – the human creatures if you will – have been thrown overboard: whether or not
for the preservation of the rest, that is the real question.
Stated with such boldness, this seemed an outrageous claim; in essence it was,
however, true. The slave system hinged on the concept of the slave as a thing: a
chattel, a piece of property. It was a concept which from the first contained an
obvious contradiction: how could a human being be a thing? But since law and
economic practice had, from the early days of the Atlantic slave trade, accepted the
chattel status of the slave, what objection could there be to the killing of chattel?
Lord Mansfield himself accepted the point: ‘they had no doubt (though it shocks one
very much) that the case of the slaves was the same as if horses had been thrown
overboard’.
Mansfield conceded the importance of the case and agreed to order a new trial. Walvin
relates that at this point the historical trail goes cold since no one has found any
evidence of a further trial being held or even identified the next legal step in the Zong
affair. The owners of the Zong were not the last slave-ship owners to claim insurance
for dead slaves. Granville Sharp continued his campaign and tried to persuade
government officers to bring murder charges against those involved, telling Admiralty
officials that he had ‘been earnestly solicited and called upon by a poor Negro for my
assistance, to avenge the blood of his murdered countrymen’. Marshalling all the
supporting evidence he could find, Sharp hoped to present an unanswerable case for a
prosecution.† But as Walvin concludes this section: †
Although there was
Again, he confronted that official silence and inactivity born of the realisation that any no further legal action
such action would corrode the system. Once an English court began to discuss murder Parliament was petitioned.
and cruelty in the conduct of the slaving system, there was no knowing where the It refused to intervene,
questions – and the consequent material damage – would end. accepting that only ‘cargo’
was involved. The Quakers
Activity 12.1 organised a general petition
a. How do you react to the story of the Zong? for the abolition of the slave
trade but encountered
b. What was the role of law in the above narrative? How can we grasp this? the strong resistance of
commercial interests. Four
c. Can a formal account of law, or put another way, can an analysis of the above
years later Granville Sharp
narrative in terms of legal categories tell us of the social reality of law? Can law
joined with many others to
be analysed on its own terms?
form the Anti-Slave Trade
d. Was the legal system operating ‘justly’, or is that an irrelevant concern? Was the Society. Today, this society
legal system simply ‘processing’ a case on the terms that were presented to it as continues to fight against
the social context of the time allowed? modern forms of slavery and
child trafficking that occur
in many places around the
How are we to conceive of the relationship between ‘law’ and the persons who are to world.
be ‘subjects’ of that law?
Perhaps we may fee some sympathy for the realists who like Felix Cohen (1935) argued
that:
legal concepts …are supernatural entities which do not have a verifiable existence except
to the eyes of faith. Rules of law, which refer to these concepts, are not descriptions of
empirical social facts …nor yet statements of moral ideals, but are rather theorems in
an independent system. It follows that a legal argument can never be refuted by a moral
principle nor by any empirical fact. Jurisprudence, as an autonomous system of legal
concepts, rules and arguments …is a special branch of the science of transcendental
nonsense.
12.2 Internal and external accounts, insiders and outsiders

When considering the work of H. L. A. Hart in earlier chapters you will have
encountered his argument for adopting an ‘internal’ view of legal practice. To Hart only
an insider to a practice can hope to adequately account for it and an understanding
of the role of rules is crucial. A Martian, we were told, could never hope to understand
the practice of stopping at red lights and going when the lights turn green. However,
by way of contrast read Chapter 1 of Roger Cotterrell’s The politics of jurisprudence.
Cotterrell there contrasts what he calls normative legal theory (the philosophy of law)
and empirical legal theory (the sociology of law), with normative legal theory of most
use for practitioners to give them orientating notions, concepts and ideals concerning
the nature of their practices, while empirical legal theory sought to locate the actual
practices in wider frameworks and tell the truth of their social effects, etc. Thus we
can differentiate internal from external perspectives. Sociology is the attempt to
have a science of society and all the processes, institutions and practices that operate
within it. Thus we should not talk – in the terms of the sociological canon – of law and
society, but of law in society. This would, of course, logically imply that sociology was
a superior discourse to jurisprudence (at least a narrowly defined jurisprudence), in
that its categories could explain jurisprudence itself. Therefore normative legal theory,
the concepts of legal practioners and others, such as law teachers and jurisprudential
scholars, would be treated as just one of the many forms of practical knowledge
utilised in their specific areas of practice.
Consider how different the attempt to create a self-sustaining and self-enclosed

jurisprudence is – or more accurately perhaps, how different it appears to be. Because,
as a proper contextual analysis of individual scholars usually demonstrates, most
†
jurisprudential scholars (Austin† and Kelsen would be good examples) were only too J. L. Austin: not to be
aware of the need to analyse and understand the role and effects of law in society; confused with our John Austin
(see Chapter 3), as whoever
only their particular programme of work was restricted to a analytical analysis or, in
prepared the footnotes
Kelsen’s case, a normative reconstruction of laws essence.
for Dworkin’s Law’s empire
Yet consider the strange case of Hart, who even claimed that his major work could be actually did!
seen as ‘an essay in descriptive sociology’ and about which Harris once said if this was
sociology it really was a sociology fit for a Martian! Hart’s methodology was in large
part derived from the linguistic philosophy fashionable in the Oxford department of
philosophy he worked in before taking the Chair in Jurisprudence. The philosophy
department, under the direction of J. L. Austin, drew upon the work of the philosopher
Wittgenstein and adopted a methodology whereby the analysis of concepts
proceeded through the analysis of everyday language usage (such as in distinguishing
between saying one was ‘being obliged’ and one was ‘under an obligation’). This
ordinary language analysis or linguistic philosophy (see Cotterrell, The politics of
jurisprudence, Chapter 4, and Morrison, Jurisprudence, Chapter 13) did not of course
attempt to answer the really big questions; it was always intended to be an orientation
that dissolved philosophical issues into the categories and difficulties of everyday life.
Moreover, from a sociological point of view it is naïve to treat all accounts of social
life as equally trustworthy. Sociology (at least in its empiricist tradition dating back to
the methodological claims of the Scottish writer David Hume) proceeds from a first
premise of scepticism or systematic doubt concerning the accounts of the people
immersed in a practice. Sociologists wish to fit these into broader accounts. The
sociologist is like the Martian in that the sociologist consciously adopts an external
perspective and ideally the Martian sociologist may well have knowledge of transport
systems in a variety of planets and would want to fit the practice of stopping at red
light and going on green into a theory on the operation of transport systems in the
Earth and throughout the known universe.
If such is the case we can perhaps talk of different projects, contrasting jurisprudence,
as the ‘normative’ study of law, with sociology of law, as the empirical study of law.
Is a coherent sociology of law possible?† †

Wittgenstein was said to
have once described his
This question may appear perplexing to a person who has surveyed the field in light of
ordinary language analysis
the marked growth of the literature in this field in recent decades. Yet the sociology
(used by H.L.A. Hart) as
of law does not have a consensually validated definition of the subject matter
follows: A fly is buzzing
and boundaries of this field. Is this good or bad? There is no dominant paradigm around in a bottle in such a
undergirding this field, as these three quotations demonstrate: way that it will exhaust itself
The sociology of law has as its task not only to register, formulate and verify the general and die. Your aim is to provide
interrelations existing between the law and other social factors (law could then be him with an analysis such
regarded as an independent or dependent variable), but also to try and build a general as to calm him down and
theory to explain social processes in which the law is involved and in this way link this lead him out of the bottle
discipline with the bulk of sociological knowledge. (Podgorecki, 1974, p. 33) to safety. But you can not
tell him the meaning of the
The purpose of the sociology of law is nothing more nor less than the study of how
bottle’s existence nor how
actors achieve in concerted social action those activities which pertain to law. Law in the
bottles fit into the overall
context of social action is the proper object of attention, not law generically defined and
pattern of the cosmos. That
identifiable independently of routine social activity. (Grace and Wilkinson, 1978, p. 291)
would be metaphysics …
The sociology of law seeks to explain the nature of law in terms of the empirical conditions By contrast some do want
within which legal doctrine and institutions exist in particular societies or social to know the meaning of the
conditions. As a study aimed at the explanation of social, phenomena through analysis existence of law generally and
of systematically organised empirical data it must concern itself centrally with under- how law fits into the overall
standing law as it is, rather than as it might or should be. (Cotterrell, 1984, p. 303) pattern of the cosmos (and
humankind’s participation
in it!)
In fact there is a bewildering array of definitions: what then? Is it a good thing or a bad
thing that there is such an array of definitions?† However, at least one general, if vague, †
From a sociology of
theme emerges, namely, that the field explores the relationship of law and social, science perspective this
political and economic contexts. diversity of views is not a
serious deficiency. As in
A methodological problem is simply: does one want to work within legal traditions,
the case of other areas of
take seriously legal categories of thought on their own terms, or move outside? specialisation in the social
Note the difference between the internal and the external, between the participant sciences, research continues
and the ‘observer’ – the difference between: on the assumption that the
cumulation of knowledge will
uu accepting law as a normative phenomenon, where normative precepts or ideals – eventually point the way to
statements of oughts – are appropriate language a clarification of the subject
matter.
uu and the world of facts, where statements of is are the proper expression.
There are others who appear to see law in negative terms, as required only by the
failings of human society (anarchists, Marxists). They associate law and the operations
of the legal system closely with coercive governmental structures which compel
humans into artificial associations, where law distributes a structure of unearned
benefits and enforces unjust relationships. Others, rejecting the coercive image of
law, see it as an expression of societal ideals, as articulating principles and standards
of human worth (human rights, etc.), and the legal system as providing an array of
protective devices for citizens to use.
12.3 Durkheim and the consensus theory of law

In the next chapter you will be presented with the work of Karl Marx. In many
sociology courses the usual opponent to Marx that students are presented with is
Emile Durkheim. The holder of the first chair in sociology ever established, Durkheim is
often taken as a classic insider – the presenter of the consensus theory of law.
12.3.1 Durkheim’s idea of ‘role differentiation’

In an earlier chapter we considered Thomas Hobbes and his argument that the natural
condition of humankind was that of a war of all on all. His solution was that we must
combine to form a sovereign and sovereigns have power to order and provide
discipline to society. In the later hands of the utilitarian individualists of Bentham and
James Mill, collective identity seemed to be derived from order imposed on individuals
in civil society. Durkheim, on the other hand, can be seen to argue that discipline and
social solidarity are simply natural features, albeit in different forms, implicit in the
idea of society itself and we must be able to come to know the conditions under which
discipline and social solidarity operate by empirical analysis of social order and social
interaction.† †
As Durkheim put it in his
‘Rules of the Sociological
In student texts, Durkheim is often treated in a simplistic form, being wheeled out
Method’: ‘The Principle which
to propose a division between the pre-modern and the modern – a distinction
we espoused would create
between ‘mechanical’ and ‘organic’ forms of ‘solidarity’. Focusing primarily upon the
a sociology which sees in
relative differentiation of roles, Durkheim held that in a society marked by what he the spirit of discipline the
termed ‘mechanical solidarity’, every individual does many different types of tasks. essential condition of all
This society has only a low level of technology and operates as a subsistence society. common life, while at the
Little interchange of goods ensues. In a stratified subsistence economy there is little same time founding it on
differentiation in lifestyle between chief and lesser members. Modernity, however, reason and truth.’ (La Capra,
benefits from role-differentiation and specialisation, which leads in turn to the 1972, pp.229–30)
exchange of products – a society characterised by a complex division of labour. This
later form of society Durkheim characterises as held together by ‘organic solidarity’.
Durkheim saw the division of labour not simply in terms of a more productive
economic order but as ushering in a new type of moral life, which he called moral
individualism.
Societies with marked role-differentiation have many more norms than do societies
with smaller amounts of it, for norms create roles, and the greater the number of roles,
the greater the number of norms. In such societies, roles become more complicated
and sophisticated, and hence the norms become more complicated and sophisticated.
Simpler societies have not only fewer norms, but less complicated ones as well.
In his early work Durkheim’s rather limited system of ideal types can be seen to have
cut down the complexity of any analysis of this situation. He separates juridical rules
into ‘two great classes, according as they have organised repressive sanction or only
restitutive sanctions’ (1933, p. 69). Furthermore, Durkheim asserted that ‘the only
common characteristic of all crimes is they consist ...in acts universally disapproved of
by all members of each society’ (ibid., p. 73). This disapproval came out of the
‘collective’ or ‘common conscience’ of the society, which he defined as ‘the totality of
beliefs and sentiments common to average citizens of the same society’, and which
formed a ‘determinate system which has its own life’ (ibid., p. 79). This same collective
conscience is the source of repressive punishments: ‘because they are found in all
consciences, the infraction committed arouses in those who have evidence of it or
who learn of its existence the same indignation. Everybody is attacked; consequently,
everybody opposes the attack’ (ibid., p. 109). Hence Durkheim is able to propose that
the relative strength of this reaction becomes a function of the solidarity of the
collective conscience.† †
‘The division of labour
The criminal law stems from the collective conscience: appears to us otherwise than
it does to the economists. For
thus we see what type of social solidarity penal law symbolises. Everybody knows that
them, it essentially consists
there is a social cohesion whose cause lies in a certain conformity of all particular
in greater production. For
consciences to a common type which is none other than the psychic type of society ...the
us, this greater production is
nature of the collective sentiments accounts for punishment ...Moreover, we see anew
only a …repercussion of the
that the power of reaction which is given over to government functionaries, once they
phenomenon. If we specialise,
have made their appearance, is only an emanation of what has been diffuse in society
it is not to produce more,
since its birth [i.e. the collective conscience]. (Division of labour in society, pp.104–05)
but it is to enable us to live in
This view is seen to be the basis for a whole tradition of ‘consensus’ views of law which new conditions of existence
that have been made for us.’
provide a foundation for the relationship of law and society for a large number of
(Durkheim, 1893/1933, p. 275)
theorists. Friedmann (1964), for example, said:
The state of the criminal law continues to be – as it should – a decisive reflection of

the social consciousness of a society. What kind of conduct an organised community
considers, at a given point of time, sufficiently condemnable to impose official sanctions
...is a barometer of the moral and social thinking of a community. (p. 143)
Likewise M. Hart (not H. L. A. Hart) in 1958:
[Criminal laws] speak to members of the community, in other words, in the community’s
behalf, with all the power and prestige of the community behind them.
The tradition to which Marx has given rise is presented in sharp contrast. For example,
Reid in 1979 sums up the Marxist position thus:
the conflict theorists argue that the criminal law does not reflect custom but, rather, the
desire of the ruling class to maintain its own interests at the expense of those being ruled.
Quinney could state in 1975:

contrary to popular belief, law is a tool of the ruling class providing the mechanism for
forcefully (and sometimes violently) controlling the rest of the population’.
Seen in such simplistic terms, the two concepts of consensus and conflict appear as a
black-and-white division in which the two sides are so far apart that alternative world
views are presented which are incapable of reconciliation.
However, Durkheim is actually quite some distance away from suggesting that there
is some easy consensus of norms and qualitative judgments in modern society.
The determinist, positivistic, framework which Durkheim gave in his early work on
suicide and the division of labour, where social control was explained largely in terms
of external constraints, i.e. by ‘social facts’, must be seen in conjunction with his
developing notion that social norms, far from being mechanically imposed on the
individual by the actions of the surrounding society, came to be internalised in the
personality of social actors. This process of internalisation is a process whereby society
came, so to speak, to reside inside us, and thus became part of the individual’s psyche
through both informal and formal processes of socialisation. Thus the essence of
social control for the mature Durkheim lay in the individual’s sense of moral obligation
to obey the rule, the voluntary acceptance of social duties, rather than in simple
conformity to outside pressures. Durkheim appears to argue that the moral demands
of society are part of the constitutive elements of the individual personality.
Durkheim implicitly suggests this process is extremely problematic in modernity

since it depends on the nature of the social structure and in particular the state of
the division of labour. Thus in societies with a minimum division of labour, i.e. pre-
modernity, essentially a similar process of socialisation is held to be experienced by
all. But in societies of advanced division of labour, i.e. modernity, differential processes
of socialisation are experienced. Therefore, the collective conscience becomes more
difficult to achieve in modernity – this is the hidden meaning of his laws of penal
evolution, since Durkheim assumes that evaluations of conduct are intense only to the
extent that they are shared, i.e. truly collective or uniform. Because of the supposed
decline of the offence to the collective conscience that conduct in modernity causes
(due to an increased division of labour) the intensity of punishment decreases (the
change from repressive to restitutive sanctions).
Is Durkheim right? Surely he is, at least in the fact that the collective conscience is
much more problematic in the conditions of modernity – conditions of the social
order post-God and amidst a complex division of labour. This does not mean that
law changes its penal element in the way that Durkheim envisages. Indeed, several
empirical studies have claimed exactly the opposite result. Furthermore, Durkheim
neglects the role of the modern state and the strength of repression which the
technologies of surveillance and control give to central authority in diverse situations.
He neglects also the role of elites in the power structures of complex societies and the
structural ability of inhibitors of certain positions in the division of labour to ensure
the lineage of their offspring in similar positions.
12.3.2 Themes and influences of Durkheim

All three of our classical social theorists, Marx, Weber and Durkheim, are grappling
with the complexity of modernity and the social relations in which modern law will
operate. Each can be seen to emphasise certain themes and downplay others.
Durkheim places the growth of capitalism as just one of the dominant features of
modernity. He also considers:
uu the growth of industrial society and the increased division of labour
uu urbanism
uu liberal democracy
uu the concrete role of abstract concepts such as norms and property rights
uu the necessity for institutionalisation
uu a functionalist account of social processes (note how this applies to punishment,

which we will use as a case study, but also the interaction of ‘identity’ and
‘otherness’)
uu the human effects such as anomie, alienation – for a sociological account the
personal life is a site of social forces.
Consider the widespread and commonsense nature of our modern functionalist

accounts, for example, the American jurist Roscoe Pound (1942), who like Marx is
concerned with happiness and with desire; his position, however, is a more mundane
and ‘pragmatic’ approach seeking to work through the institutions thrown up by
modern society.
...we all want the earth. We all have a multiplicity of desires and demands which we
seek to satisfy. There are very many of us but there is only one earth. The desires of each
continually conflict with or overlap those of his neighbours. So there is, as one might
say, a great task of social engineering. There is a task of making the goods of existence,
the means of satisfying the demands and desires of men living together is a politically
organised society, if they cannot satisfy all the claims that men make upon them, at least
go round as far as possible. (pp.64–65)
One account of the role of law can be as part of the transformative effects reshaping
social relations in line with the functional needs of the complex forms of social
structure. For example, while pre-modern and early modern society relied upon
external differences, which are social in origin, such as hierarchies based upon skin
colour or gender, Durkheim saw internal differences, such as genetic differences in
capabilities or aptitudes, as becoming more important. Thus changing substantive
forms and content of legal regulation can work to eliminate external inequalities.
Thus we can see legislation attempting to aid increasing equality of opportunity and
the structuring of a social order allocating wealth or power according to internal
inequalities and the functional demands of occupation.
Cotterrell (1999, p. 217) says the Durkheimean project contains certain methodological
injunctions for the study of law:
uu law is to be focused upon as something external to the individual, exerting

coercion upon him (not necessarily violence or force)
uu law is a social phenomenon that has in some important senses an existence

independent of the human beings who create, interpret or apply it
uu law must always be seen as a concrete historical phenomenon, to be understood

empirically in its specific time and place.
Law was thus an observable social fact, inevitably changing as part of the
developmental structures of modernity. He gave it a central role in mediating
disputes, of expressing a society’s moral valuations. In general Durkheim downplays
the importance of class concepts in favour of seeing conflict as a feature of
the dysfunctional effects of industrialisation. The weakening, and occasional
disappearance, of class scenarios and the ascendancy of the functionalist character
of society has contributed enormously to the rearrangement and ‘modernisation’
of traditional political patterns and programmes. The Durkheimean conception of
society and social change critiqued and replaced the understanding of the state as a
class agency with the demand for more sophisticated conceptions which presented
more complex structures of social interaction.
What of his legacy today? Consider part of the conclusion Roger Cotterrell draws in his
Emile Durkheim: Law in a Moral Domain, (1999, pp.228–29):
Durkheim’s agenda remains a focus of optimism in a contemporary world that often

forgets what an important product of history law is, if it is seriously and consistently
informed of the values he tried to express as the cult of the individual. The worst legacy
of Durkheim’s legal theory would be complacency about law’s weaknesses and injustices,
the adoption of a romantic moralism that cannot see law’s blatant immoralities and
cruelties, or its innumerable, mundane inadequacies as an agent of social solidarity. The
best legacy would be to inspire critical analyses of law to explore in new ways how to
make legal ideas and practices morally meaningful to the regulated; in other words, to
help to change legal regulation and its environments so as to make Durkheim’s ‘focal’
view of law seem less partial and more comprehensive as a perspective on legal reality in
contemporary society.
Summary
Durkheim, an almost exact contemporary of Marx, grappled with the problems of
dramatic social transformation and the emergence of modern society. He downplayed
the issues of economics and power in favour of a science of positive ‘morals’ that was
mildly optimistic. Durkheim believed that law was an index of underlying social forms,
the forms of social solidarity. Thus we could study law to uncover the forms of moral
regulation in society. Society was for him a moral phenomenon, social solidarity a
normal state for social life and the action of law a index of that.
For Durkheim law was an aspect of social morality. Law played a functional role in
social life (this has led many commentators in later times to try and draw up a list
of law’s functions and social purposes and argue that law should be reformed and
directed in such a way as they are achieved). Durkheim’s core belief was of the need
to go beyond the common sense views of the layman and re-examine them to look
for the social functions, roles and forces that give them ‘true’ significance. Durkheim’s
work influenced the development of a whole range of sociology, from conservative
sociology, through managerialism, to the strain and control theories of criminology.
For a long time his legacy was cast in terms of functionalism, that is that sociologists
should develop a scientific explanation of human behaviours from the premises that
any society is a functioning whole, resting on a consensus of morals and values. Today
it is more his argument that we need to develop a new form of ‘moral individualism’
that excites attention than his functionalism. The fact remains that he is along with
Marx and Weber one of the founding ‘fathers’ of modern social analysis.
12.4 The rationalisation of the world: the analysis of Max Weber

Max Weber’s (1864–1920) most famous theme is that modernity is crucially constituted
by a growing rationalisation of the social world. Weber’s contributions to a sociology
of law are diverse and complex; they are also buried in his grand scheme of ideal types
and the development of legal rationality in Western civilisation and the role of law
in the origins and development of capitalism. Weber (1954, in Rheinstein, ed., p. 303)
gave a thesis on evolutionary stages:
The general development of law and procedure may be viewed as passing through
the following stages: first, charismatic legal revelation through ‘law prophets’; second,
empirical creation and finding of law by legal honoratiores …; third, imposition of law
by secular or theocratic powers; fourth and finally, systematic elaboration of law and
professionalized administration of justice by persons who have received their legal
training in a learned and formally logical manner.
12.4.1 Weber and modernity

Modernity demands reasons for action as opposed to following custom and tradition.
Do you consider yourself an emancipated modern individual? Do you consider that
you are responsible for mapping out the course of your life? That in living your life you
are going to follow your own chosen thoughts and life plans and not merely follow on
expected paths which others, say family or social group, have mapped out for you?
If we claim to be a true modern it appears central to our modern self-image as freed,
truly modern, self-directing individuals, that we do not live in the customary and
tradition-bound ways that people inhabited for the previous thousands of years. We
do not follow traditions as if they were the natural form of life. We take ourselves away
at a distance from the traditions and follow courses of action depending upon our
choices – we map out paths, choose rationally. What are the ends we want to achieve –
what are the appropriate means? Action becomes rational, efficient, anti-traditional.
Central to modernity is the use of reason and the desire to assert control over the
process and forms of the world. If we are to become, as the Enlightenment French
philosopher Descartes claimed, ‘the masters and possessors of the earth’, then
subjecting the processes of the world to rational (scientific) investigation and
following reason to organise ourselves and our institutions appears to be the naturally
enlightened way of operating.
Although this appears to be the only route to success, rationality has a price. For if
modernisation takes place though increasing rationalisation, what happens to those
aspects of social life that cannot be thought of as truly rational? Do they become
downgraded, to be cast away?
Weber thought rationality would dominate in three ways:
uu the control of the world through calculation (note the growth of the
technological attitude – the world becomes a problem to be solved with the
correct technology)
uu the systematisation of meaning and value into an overall consistent scheme
uu the methodological living of daily life according to rules. Rationality means

following a rule, or an abstract moral principle, rather than acting on impulse,
randomness or emotionality. Rationality means building up a logically consistent
pattern linking our thoughts and actions and following this pattern to its
conclusion. It means consistency in linking our words and actions, our aims and
like activities, creating an efficient ordering of means to ends.
As a consequence Weber thought we faced an inevitable systematisation of belief,

the elimination of logical inconsistencies, the disarming of the magical and mystical,
the movement away from particular, or local, forms of thinking, to the more abstract
or general. This entailed the reduction of all individual instances of experience
and of thought, whatever their diversity, to the status of general classes. Moreover,
rationalisation demanded that we purge our ways of thinking and acting of forms
that could not be justified on the basis of their anticipated consequences, themselves
rationally justified by more generally defined ends and rendered predictable by
generally valid empirical laws. Rationalisation is the systematisation of belief; it is
the systematisation of action. But it is the destruction, the stifling of a great deal of
the human being. What happens to the non-rational aspects of humanity? Does the
resonance go out of life? The tragedy? Are we doomed to live out formally effective
lives with little magic or warm human contact?
The commitment to reason as the mode of organising life takes on a meaning of

itself – this Weber calls formal rationality. The tribal person who believed in demons
and Gods, who followed customs and traditions, may have been consistent in his
thoughts, actions and beliefs, in that if we imagine ourselves inside his beliefs
then he is behaving in a rationally consistent fashion; this rationality Weber calls
substantive. Under substantive rationality there are certain things – values – which
are simply accepted as true and fit a picture of the cosmos (world) so accepted. But
we ‘moderns’ argue that everything has to be subjected to the test of sceptical reason
and if something cannot survive rational testing then we reject these beliefs while
committing ourselves to reason itself. Rationality becomes something that dominates
life. It does not matter what beliefs that we have substantially we must be rational.
12.4.2 The nation state and the rise of capitalism

The rise of modern rationality is closely linked to the development of capitalism as a
†
mode of economic and social life and the rise of the nation state. One of the determining Although Weber draws upon
the Marxist Leon Trotsky for
contexts for modern law is the growth in importance (and now possible decline) of
his definition of the state, this
the nation state. Like John Austin, Weber saw the state as a particular form of political
agreement does not commit
association and was clear on the necessary linkage between the ability of the modern
Weber to the particular
state to function and law. In his famous lecture ‘Politics as a Vocation’, Weber asks the
Marxist argument within
question: ‘but what is a political association from a sociological point of view?’
which Trotsky’s view of the
His answer: state is embedded. Weber
highlights the centrality
Ultimately one can define the modern state sociologically only in terms of the specific of force in identifying the
means peculiar to it as to every political association, namely, the use of physical force. state, while also pointing to
Every state† is founded on force, said Trotsky. That is indeed right. If no social institution the need for legitimacy, the
existed which knew the use of violence, then the concept of state would be eliminated, exercise of a monopoly on
and a condition would emerge that could be described as anarchy in the specific sense of force, and a territorial limit.
this word. Of course, force is certainly not the normal or the only means of the state
– nobody says that – but force is a means specific to the state. Today the relation
between the state and violence is an especially intimate one. In the past the most varied
institutions have known the use of physical force as quite normal. Today, however, we have
to say that a state is a human community that (successfully) claims the monopoly of the
legitimate use of physical force within a given territory. Note that ‘territory’ is one of the
characteristics of the state. Specifically, at the present time, the right to use physical force
is ascribed to other institutions or to individuals only to the extent to which the state
permits it. The state is considered the sole source of the “right” to use violence. Hence,
‘politics’ for us means striving to share power or striving to influence the distribution of
power, either among states or among groups within a state.
To give more of the flavour of Weber:

Like the political institutions historically preceding it, the state is a relation of men
dominating men. A relation supported by means of legitimate (considered to be
legitimate) violence. If the state is to exist, the dominated must obey the authority claim
†
by the powers that be.† You may like to consider
how close this is to the
12.4.3 Obedience and authority position of John Austin.
Weber was more interested in the question of when and why men obey and upon
what inner justifications and what external means this domination rests.
Let us consider for a moment the social context of Weber. He witnessed the unification
of Germany under Bismarck and the emergence of the modern German state, founded
in part at least upon the strength of Prussian hegemony. In his later life he saw the
phenomenal growth of industrialisation in Germany, the failed attempt to create a
German empire and the culmination of great power rivalry in the catastrophe of World
War I. In many ways the social processes Weber witnessed in the latter part of the
nineteenth century had been foreshadowed in the social processes which Austin and
later Marx were to witness in the UK in the first half of the century. Weber is concerned
with the maintenance of political authority. To maintain political authority, power
based purely on physical force is unstable and ineffective. It is important to achieve
domination, i.e. ‘the probability that a command with a given specific content will be
obeyed by a given group of persons’. How does such obedience come about? Weber
proposes a model of three ‘ideal types’ of authority:
uu Traditional authority – which rests on an established belief in the sanctity of

immemorial traditions and the legitimacy of the status of those exercising
authority under them. This form of authority had dominated in the history of the
world.
uu Charismatic authority – which rests on devotion to the specific and exceptional

sanctity, heroism or exemplary character of an individual person, and of the
normative patters or order revealed or ordained by him. This form was unstable
and unpredictable.
uu Rational legal authority – which rests upon the rational grounds and a belief in the
‘legality’ of patterns of normative rules and the right of those elevated to authority
under such rules to issue commands. This form was coming to dominate modern
western societies.
Weber considered the growth of rational legal authority as the predominant aspect in
that process he called the rationalisation of the modern world. Whereas for most of
human existence the legitimacy of social systems had rested on traditional, magical
or religious elements, modern society appeared to be founded on an authority
which itself became rational; that is, it was understood as a calculated form of social
structuring, enabling the functional integrity of a society or social organisation. This in
turn, Weber thought, depends upon:
uu A legal code which consists of legal norms which are established by agreement
or by imposition but which are accepted on grounds of expediency or rational
values or both. This has a claim to obedience of at least the crucial members of the
corporate body and usually claims the obedience of all members of the society or
organisation.
uu A logically consistent system of abstract rules which are applied to particular cases.
Thus social order exists within the limits laid down by legal precepts and following
principles which are capable of generalised formulation.
uu The typical person in authority occupying an ‘office’, which defines his or her
responsibilities. That person – who is an official, even the elected president of the
state – is also subject to the impersonal regulation of the law.
uu The person obeying authority does so only by virtue of his or her membership of
the corporate group (that is, not on any personal basis) and what is obeyed is the
law (rather than the person in authority).
uu Obedience is given to officials not as individuals but to the impersonal order they
represent. An administrative staff (that is, a bureaucracy) is formally charged with
looking after the interests of the corporate body within the limits of the law.
uu The power of the state officials resides in their legal office not themselves.
Activity 12.2
How far do these legitimising factors work this way in practice? If they work
imperfectly, what does this suggest about the law?
Thus it is law, its precise demand and its administration, which encapsulates the
element of calculation in rational legal authority. Weber considered that the
emergence of the Western form of capitalism had given an immense stimulus
to rational-legal authority and the calculative attitude. But what provides the
substance to law? Weber’s analysis cannot tell us that. While we move within the
confines of legal-rational domination the rationality involved is a formal rationality:
a commitment to reason which leaves the content uncertain, flexible according to
the presuppositions which we bring to bear. It cannot answer the question ‘what will
ensure the just or good society?’ If, however, we could agree a touchstone, a frame of
reference, we could have a structure to make the system able to achieve the just or
good society. Bentham and Austin thought that they had achieved the search for such
a touchstone in utilitarianism; however, even with the work of J. S. Mill who refined
utilitarianism with the additional principle of liberty, most have thought that only in
the most general terms can the pursuit of happiness be cast in utilitarian terms.
Weber considered that the emergence of the Western form of capitalism had given
an immense stimulus to rational legal authority and the calculative attitude. The
predictability of relationships and outcomes required for capitalist interaction was
enabled by the formally rational structure of legal domination.
In comparing Austin to Hart, for example, we can partly see that Austin stands in
a social context which is experiencing the process of rationalisation which Weber
detects and that close analysis of the work of Austin will demonstrate this, in particular
a fuller understanding of what Austin perceived himself to be doing in creating the
science of jurisprudence. Moreover, we can see the distance from Austin to H. L. A.
Hart not in terms of Hart improving on Austin’s one-sided theory, i.e. in terms of legal
theory correcting itself or working itself pure, but in terms of Hart inhabiting a social
system where legal rational domination had been successfully achieved. Whereas for
Austin this was still something to be achieved.
12.4.4 Weber’s pessimistic mood

In the post-enlightenment Europe of the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries
the appeal to reason – to rationality – was often on behalf of the desire to be free.
Freed from the bondage of false belief and the hierarchies of feudal society, humanity
would enter into an age of enlightenment. Modernity should bring freedom – the
liberation from the restraints of substantive rationality, the necessity to believe X
because that is what your social group or society socialised you into. Freed from
illusion we can choose our values, develop new ones in the interaction with other
individuals, cultures, ways of life in the variation of the world. This freedom of culture
could mean the potentiality for a more varied and exciting world than anything
previously in history. But Weber was pessimistic. Modernity was more likely to become
a gloomy bureaucratic state where administered uniformity severely limited freedom.
He talked of the ‘iron cage’ of bureaucracy and rationality. Individuals were not likely
to have the capacity to choose among the possible array of life chances, of values;
instead a vast administered state would dominate. What would individuals do? Weber
thought that their life would be dominated by their functional role, their public space
outlined by the social rationality, and the only happiness would be in the anti-rational
spaces. The individual would find solace in personal relationships, romantic love and
escapist music, the experience of art, the cultivation of a limited private sphere, as
worldly escapes from institutional routines. The only hope was that we could sustain
a will not to be ruled like sheep – but this was doubtful. His fears were proved right in
the great disasters of fascism, Stalinism and Maoist communism, among others.
Summary
Weber’s thesis on rationalism has proved enduring. It denotes a new relationship of
individuals to each other and to social authority. In the West Weber claimed that law
was divided into a set of separate spheres: sacred and secular, private and public, civil
and criminal. Occidental rationalism has resulted in the modern state which operates
according to the precepts of a scientific jurisprudence, administered by professionally
trained jurists (lawyers) and administrators according to the principles of rational
legal administration. The emergence of capitalism and its corresponding structures
of value and activity has been ‘the most fateful force in our modern life’. Moreover, in
a disenchanted world the problem of trying to follow values comes to the fore: social
life is split between values which are believed in on a personal level and reason which
binds us in the great systems of capitalist administration we live and work within.
12.5 The transformation of jurisprudence
12.5.1 What is a critical study of law?

While most lecturers would today wish their students to take a ‘critical’ approach to
law, critical legal studies refers to a rather loose but meaningful label for a particular
approach to legal studies. Perhaps something can be gauged by looking at a
representative quotation (Horwitz, 1981):
By and large, the dominant tradition in Anglo-American legal scholarship today is

unhistorical. It attempts to find universal rationalising principles ...The underlying
structure of the law class remains that of forcing the student to reconcile contradictions
that cannot be reconciled. If you do well, then you become a professor and you demand
it of your students and you continue to do it in your legal scholarship. The ideological
‘tilt’ of current legal scholarship derives from this attempt to suppress the real
contradictions in the world, to make the existing world seem to be necessary ...to be part
of the nature of things. It is history that comes to challenge this approach by showing
that the rationalising principles of the mainstream scholars are historically contingent.
Consequently, analytic scholarship is anti-historical: it regards history as subversive
because it exposes the rationalising enterprise.
This call to an historical awareness is only one possible tactic. Critical legal studies
(CLS) is a broad label encompassing a variety of subversive enterprises to traditional
analytic scholarship. While traditional legal scholarship is viewed as desperately
making sense of the world, of holding out law as a coherent and rational body of
rules and principles, CLS uses a range of techniques to bring out underlying fissures,
contradictions and tensions. Where traditional scholarship finds the guidance of rules
and principles, CLS tells us of the inescapably political nature of life.
12.5.2 Law as a living phenomenon

Jurisprudence is produced by people in social contexts striving to write about
the truth of law. Whether conceptually, drawing out abstractions from what they
encounter, or using narratives of their life experiences (as with feminists today), the
writer looked at here worked in specific social, economic and historical contexts but
tried to draw out general things about law.
What does it mean to put the writer in context and how can this be conveyed in the
stressful activity of writing the examinations? Take Marx: examiners tire of seeing
statement such as ‘Marx was depressed by what he saw in the Lancashire Cotton mills
and ...’. The point is not whether Marx actually visited any cotton mills in Lancashire
but that scholars have used the example of Lancashire almost as shorthand expression
for the Industrial Revolution and the whole range of dramatic social changes that
accompanied it.† The reading room of the British Museum has as much claim to be the †
As Eric Hobsbawm said in
context of Marx’s work as the cotton mills (see Figure 1). The age of revolution:
‘What does the phrase “the
industrial revolution broke
out” mean? It means that
some time in the 1780s, and
for the first time in human
history, the shackles were
taken off the productive
power of human societies
which henceforth became
capable of the constant,
rapid and up to the present
limitless multiplication of
men, goods and services.’
(1962, p. 45)
Figure 1 The Reading Room of the British Museum as it was in Marx’s time.
There Marx read accounts from many other scholars and popular writers. The themes
were the transformations of the social world and the Industrial Revolution The
Industrial Revolution refers to the transformation of western economies (at first the
British) from being based primarily upon agriculture to one based primarily upon
manufacture.
With this came a whole series of changes – in the technology of production, e.g. new
machines, and changes in the social relationships that surround the organisation of
production, as well as the great expansion of urban life. The cotton industry was at the
centre of the early industrial revolution. In Industry and empire (1968) the historian Eric
Hobsbawm put it like this:
Whoever says Industrial Revolution says cotton …The British Industrial Revolution was by
no means only cotton, or Lancashire or even textiles, and cotton lost it primacy within it
after a couple of generations. Yet cotton was the pacemaker of industrial change, and the
basis of the first regions which could not have existed but for industrialisation, and which
expressed a new form of society, industrial capitalism. (p. 56)
New machines meant that cotton could be weaved, rather than hand-spun, an
advance but still small scale; but then came the ‘spinning jenny’, the ‘water frame’ and
the ‘mule’ (all new devices that enable mechanised spinning of cotton to take place)
that gave rise to huge cotton factories. For over 50 years ‘cotton was king’ and even in
the 1830s cotton products were over half of total British exports. The Lancashire cotton
mills came to represent the new factory system. Hobsbawm again:
A new industrial system based on a new technology thus emerged with remarkable
speed and ease among the rainy farms and villages of Lancashire …It represented a new
economic relationship between men, a new system of production, a new rhythm of life,
a new society, a new historical era, and contemporaries were aware of it almost from the
start. (1968, pp.64, 65)
Not only was this part of a global network – cotton was largely produced by slaves
in the new world of the Americas, slaves that were transported from Africa – but the
technology soon spread globally (in recent years I have for example visited garment
factories in Bangladesh and Thailand that share many of these features). What Marx
was then trying to grasp was a new global framework and a division of labour that
transformed people’s life experiences. The workers, particularly women and children
in the early years of textile manufacture, were taken out of the familiar environment
of the home and placed in the new impersonal factory. This imposed a regularity, a
routine and a monotony that was quite unlike the pre-industrial ways of work. It gave
rise to
…such visions as working men narrowed and dehumanised into ‘operatives’ or ‘hands’
before being dispensed with altogether by completely ‘self-acting’ (automated)
machinery …The ‘factory’ with its logical flow of processes, each with a specialised
machine tended by a specialised ‘hand’ all linked together by the inhuman and constant
pace of the ‘engine’ and the discipline of mechanisation. (1969, p. 68)
To cope with the social effects came the two great ‘progressive’ (at least in the sense
of trying to take charge and organise this modernity) projects of modernity, namely
classical liberalism (which stressed a central role for law and individualism) along
with utilitarian rationalism, and utopian socialism (which rejected the dehumanising
nature of capitalism although accepting industrialism as a inevitable part of the
evolution of mankind). Against this was posed the reactionism of conservativism or
fascism.

uu explain the difference between internal and external accounts of law (insiders
and outsiders)
uu identify the key concerns of social theoretical accounts of law
uu describe the central ideas of Emile Durkheim and Max Weber
uu explain how the ideas of Durkheim and Weber might be relevant to a
contemporary analysis of the role of law in society.

Question 1 Discuss critically Weber’s contribution to our understanding of law.
Question 2 Is a study of the sociology of law worthwhile? Answer this question
with reference to either the works of Max Weber or the works of Emile Durkheim.
Question 3 ‘Karl Marx said nothing of relevance to a practising lawyer.’ Discuss.
[Note: you will need to read Chapter 13 before attempting this question.]
References
¢¢ Cohen, F. ‘Transcendental nonsense and the functionalist approach’, Columbia
Law Review 34 (1935) p. 821.
¢¢ Cotterrell, R. The sociology of law: an introduction. (London: Butterworths, 1984).
¢¢ Cotterrell, R. Emile Durkheim: law in a moral domain. (Edinburgh: Edinburgh

University Press, 1999).
¢¢ Durkheim, E. The division of labour in society. (New York: Macmillan, 1933). [First
published 1893.]
¢¢ Durkheim, E. ‘Rules of the sociological method’ in La Capra, D. (ed.) Emile

Durkheim: sociologist and philosopher. (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1972)
pp.229–30.
¢¢ Friedmann, W. Law in a changing society. (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1964/1972).
¢¢ Grace, O. and P. Wilkinson Sociological inquiry and legal phenomena. (New York: St
Martin’s Press, 1978).
¢¢ Hart, M. ‘The aims of the criminal law’, Law and contemporary problems, 23 (1958)
(3) pp.401–441.
¢¢ Hobsbawm, E. J. The age of revolution: Europe, 1789–1848. (London: Weidenfeld

and Nicholson, 1962).
¢¢ Hobsbawm, E. J. Industry and empire: economic history of Britain since 1750.

(London: Weidenfeld and Nicholson, 1968).
¢¢ Horwitz, M. J. ‘The historical contingency of the role of history’, Yale Law Journal,
90 (1981).
¢¢ La Capra, D. (ed.) Emile Durkheim: sociologist and philosopher. (Ithaca, NY: Cornell
¢¢ MacInnes, C. England and slavery. (London: Arrowsmith, 1934).
¢¢ Podgorecki, A. Law and society. (London: Routledge , 1974).
¢¢ Pound, R. Social control through law. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1942)
[1996 edition Transaction Publishers].
¢¢ Shyllon, F. O. Black slaves in Britain. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1974)

pp.184–209.
¢¢ Tattersfield, N. The forgotten trade: comprising the log of the ‘Daniel and Henry’ of
1700 and accounts of the slave trade from the minor ports of England, 1698–1725.
(London: Jonathon Cape, 1991) pp.141–54.
¢¢ Walvin, J. Black ivory: A history of British slavery. (London: HarperCollins, 1992)

pp.16–20.
¢¢ Weber, M. and M. Rheinstein (ed.) Max Weber on law in economy and society.
(Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1954).
¢¢ Himma, K. ‘Do philosophy and sociology mix? a non-essentialist socio-legal

positivist analysis of the concept of law’ (2004) 24 Oxford Journal of Legal Studies
717
is a useful recant of the arguments about the relationship between philosophy and
sociology. It is a critical review of Brian Tamanaha’s book A general jurisprudence of
law and society (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001) [ISBN 0199244677].
Reflect and review



I can explain the difference between internal and

external accounts of law (insiders and outsiders).   
I can identify the key concerns of social theoretical

accounts of law.   
I can describe the central ideas of Emile Durkheim and

Max Weber .   
I can explain how the ideas of Durkheim and Weber

might be relevant to a contemporary analysis of the
role of law in society.   
revise?
Must Revision
revise done
12.1 Thinking of law and society: encountering a case  
12.2 Internal and external accounts, insiders and outsiders  
12.3 Durkheim and the consensus theory of law  
12.4 The rationalisation of the world: the analysis of Max Weber  
12.5 The transformation of jurisprudence  

13 Marx, Marxism and Marxist legal theory
Contents
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 186
13.1 Marx’s basic ideas of ideology, economy and society . . . . . . . . . . 187
13.2 The Marxist theory of the state . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191
13.3 Marx’s theory of law in Das Kapital . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 192
13.4 Soviet Marxism and the law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 193
13.5 Setting Marx the right way up: Western Marxism . . . . . . . . . . . . 195
13.6 Marxism, law and international economy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 197

Introduction
This chapter will provide an introduction to Marxist jurisprudence. Firstly, we will look
at Karl Marx’s ideas on law, economy and society, and see that they emerged from
his criticisms of other philosophers. Then we will turn to scholars who work within a
Marxist tradition, and see how these writers attempted to build a Marxist theory of
law. In the latter part of the chapter, we will look at some more recent Marxist scholars
who, it will be suggested, are developing a Marxist jurisprudence that is relevant to
our times. Marx lived from 1818 to 1883.
Learning outcomes
uu outline Marx’s ideas of ideology, economy and society
uu identify the philosophical tradition out of which Marx’s thought emerges
uu describe Marx’s ideas of law and of the state
uu describe the characteristics of Soviet jurisprudence
uu explain the development of Marx’s theories of ideology, economy and law by
Louis Althusser
uu indicate how Marx’s thought might be relevant to a contemporary theory of
international law.
Essential reading
¢¢ Douzinas, C. and A. Gearey Critical jurisprudence: a textbook. (Oxford: Hart, 2004)
[ISBN 184113452X] Chapter on Marxist theories.
¢¢ Freeman, Chapter 13: ‘Marxist theories of law and state’.
¢¢ Morrison, Chapter 10: ‘Karl Marx and the Marxist heritage for understanding law
and society’.
¢¢ Penner and Melissaris, Chapter 13, ‘Marxist and post-Marxist theories of law’.
Jurisprudence and legal theory 13 Marx, Marxism and Marxist legal theory page 187
13.1 Marx’s basic ideas of ideology, economy and society

In a sense, it is difficult to read Marx today, though you will usually find that his
writings are more accessible than those, say, of Kelsen. His thought is seen to be largely
discredited by the Soviet system in what was the USSR. With the fall of the Berlin
Wall in 1989 and the collapse of ‘communism’, it appeared that the epoch of Marxism
had come to an end. However, it is possible that these events actually allow us to
start to read Marx properly for the first time. We need to appreciate that Marx was a
philosopher, and his work is more important, and less simplistic, than what has been
taken to be ‘Marxism’. Perhaps it is necessary to discount, from the beginning, Marxism
as a political movement, and to stress that we are concerned with a way of thinking;
and in particular a way of thinking about law. Furthermore, when editorials on the
‘essentially correct’ nature of Marx’s thinking of economy can appear in a heavyweight
journal such as The Economist, we cannot afford to dismiss Marx as a discredited
thinker of the century-before-last.
13.1.1 Marx and Hegel

Marx has to be read as a philosopher, whose ideas come out of his own re-reading
of important philosophers. Marx was himself a scholar of jurisprudence; but he
approached the theory of law in a particular way:
The first work which I undertook to dispel the doubts assailing me was a critical re-
examination of the Hegelian philosophy of law …My inquiry led me to the conclusion that
neither legal relations nor political forms could be comprehended whether by themselves or
on the basis of a so-called general development of the human mind, but that on the contrary
they originate in the material conditions of life, the totality of which Hegel …embraces within
the term ‘civil society’; that is, the economy. [Preface to A critique of political economy (1859)]
This passage introduces a number of key themes. Marx is relating the form of the law
not to the ‘development of the human mind’, but to ‘material conditions of life’. We
will return to these themes presently, but at this stage we can point out that this is
rooted in Marx’s criticisms of the German philosopher Hegel. To understand what Marx
means, we must thus return to the text, and try to isolate what Marx means when he
refers to the ‘human mind’, ‘civil society’ and ‘economy’.
For the moment, we can focus on the key idea. What is meant by ‘the material
conditions of life?’ This is stressed in the following extract, which is also an important
provisional outline of some of Marx’s key ideas.
I was led by my studies to the conclusion that legal relations as well as the forms of State
could neither be understood by themselves, nor explained by the so called general
progress of the human mind, but that they are rooted in the material conditions of life,
which are summed up by Hegel after the fashion of the English and French writers of
the eighteenth century under the name of civil society, and that the anatomy of civil
society is to be found in political economy …The general conclusion at which I arrived
and which, once reached, continued to serve as the guiding thread in my studies may be
briefly formulated as follows: In the social production which men carry on they enter into
definite relations that are indispensable and independent of their will; these relations
of production correspond to a definite state of development of the material powers
of production. The totality of these relations of production constitute the economic
structure of society – the real foundation, on which legal and political superstructures
arise and to which definite forms of social consciousness correspond. The mode of
production of material life determines the general character of the social, political and
spiritual processes of life. It is not the consciousness of men that determines their being,
but, on the contrary, their social being determines their consciousness. [Preface to a
critique of political economy (1859)]
Perhaps the most important feature of this famous passage is that Marx presents law
as part of a total picture of society. We can describe this total picture as a totality. It is
necessary to see law as related to other social and political elements; in other words,
to understand law, you have to look outside the law. But Marx’s argument goes much
further:
At a certain stage of development, the material productive forces of society come into
conflict with the existing relations of production or – this merely expresses the same
thing in legal terms – with the property relations within the framework of which they
have operated hitherto. From forms of development of the productive forces these
relations turn into their fetters. Then begins an era of social revolution. The changes in the
economic foundation lead sooner or later to the transformation of the whole immense
superstructure. In studying such transformations it is always necessary to distinguish
between the material transformation of the economic conditions of production, which
can be determined with the precision of natural science, and the legal, political, religious,
artistic or philosophic – in short, ideological forms in which men become conscious of this
conflict and fight it out. Just as one does not judge an individual by what he thinks about
himself, so one cannot judge such a period of transformation by its consciousness, but, on
the contrary, this consciousness must be explained from the contradictions of material
life, from the conflict existing between the social forces of production and the relations of
production. (ibid.)
The key to understanding society, and hence to understanding law, is to look to

economy, and any given society’s economic organisation. Marx uses a special term
for his analysis of economy; he refers to the means of production. He is referring to
the ways in which people make their living – ways of producing social wealth. More
fully, we could refer to ‘means of production, distribution and exchange’, to refer to
all kinds of economic activity. Marx also makes a reference to the mode of production
determining the ‘general character of society’: economic organisation is thus
fundamental. To a certain extent this is accurate. If one looks at medieval society in
western Europe, for example, one finds that modes of economic organisation did have
an important effect. For instance, if wealth is bound up with land, then those with land
are powerful. Those without land have to work for those with land: one does indeed
find a rural peasantry who were legally tied to the land of their masters. Of course,
there was also a merchant class; merchants had the social and financial power that
comes from trade, and certainly did not have to sell their labour on the land.
Marx argues that your sense of your self, or your view of the world, is determined by
your material position in society. If you have to sell your labour to survive, your view
of the world will be very different from that of a merchant or a lord. Marx refers to
these material positions as class positions. More formally, class is determined by an
individual’s relationship to the means of production.
Marx describes such ideas or beliefs about the world as ‘ideologies’. An ideology is a
world view that contains assumptions about how the world works, what one’s place is
in the world, and how one views others. Thus, a peasant’s ideology will include a belief
in deference to established authority, his lord and the Church; it may also include ideas
about his or her relationship to family or community. The ideology of a peasant will
be very different from that of a landowner. A landowner’s view of the world will be
determined by the need to maintain his authority. Of course, this analysis is crude, but
it is only meant to suggest the broad outline of Marx’s ideas.
The second important strand of Marx’s idea of ideology is that it mystifies. Thus, a
peasant will ‘believe’ in the authority of the lord, but will not appreciate that this belief
is ultimately based on no more than the lord’s wealth and power. If, as we will see, law
has an ideological aspect, then it is used primarily to preserve or further the interests
of a particular class. This is thus a very different approach from that of theorists who
stress the law’s social neutrality.
To have a good grasp of Marx’s theory of the law, it is necessary to see it in this context.
Law is part of a social totality. Before we turn to the law, it is necessary to make sure
that we understand these fundamentals of Marx’s thought.
1. What is a social totality?
2. What are the means of production?
3. What role does economy play in Marx’s theory of social totality?

4. What is class?
5. What is Marx’s basic insight into the nature of law?
Let’s now look in some more detail at Marx’s understanding of the law. The following
extract is an analysis by Bankowski and Mungham (1976) of a statement by Marx about
the nature of jurisprudence or legal theory:
‘…your jurisprudence is but the will of your class made into law for all’ (Marx, 1884). But,
though it is this signature of a society, you cannot know a society by looking at its law. For
that gives undue importance to the law, in that it assumes that law can be an object of
study unconstituted by any theory. For us, however, law is an object of study only in so far
as it is constituted by Marxist theory.
Let’s try to develop these themes. Law as an object of study is to be constituted as

an object of an expressly political theory; robbed of its autonomy, law is to appear
in its nakedness as an instrument of class power. In other words, law is no longer
the guardian of freedom, neutral and above direct political influence. Law is part
of a social structure that is ultimately reducible to its economic organisation. This
analysis follows the ‘guiding thread’ of Marx’s analysis announced in the Critique of
Political Economy. Law’s relationship to society is explained in the famous metaphor
of the base and superstructure. At the base (or ‘foundation’, as Marx called it in the
extracts above) is the mode of production, the organisation of the economy; all other
social institutions can be understood by reference to this essential determinant.
Any economy passes through a number of stages of organisation, and a pattern
of development can be plotted with the same certainty that a natural science can
describe the development of phenomena.
So, according to Bankowski and Mungham, a philosophy of economy can provide

the necessary insight into law. Although law may have its own particular ‘form’, its
own discourses and practices, these can only be understood by reference to a more
fundamental truth that remains ‘beyond’ it, in economy. However, this view can be
criticised: it is a restricted way of thinking about law. An attempt to produce a general
jurisprudence thus degenerates into a reductive thinking. It is no wonder that this
version of Marxism is seen by many to represent an intellectual dead-end. We need to
ask further critical questions. Of course, there are many difficult issues here; but we
could broadly sketch the contours of the problem. We need to return to Marx’s own
writing.
We will see that Marx does attempt to think of law as part of a total picture of a society,
but that this cannot just be related to economy in a simplistic way. We need to look
at Marx’s understanding of history, and then return to the issue of the relationships
between law and economy.
Activity 13.1
What view of jurisprudence and law is provided by Bankowski and Mungham?
†
No feedback provided. Friedrich Hegel: Georg
Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel
13.1.2 Marx’s critical reading of Hegel 1770–1831, German
philosopher. ‘Of all the major
Marx’s key writing on Hegel† and law is his Contribution to a critique of Hegel’s philosophy
Western philosophers, Hegel
of law in Vol. 3 of Marx and Engels: collected works (Moscow: Progress Publishers, has gained the reputation of
1975). The most basic problem with which Marx grapples in his critique is Hegel’s being the most impenetrable.
presentation of law as located in history and social experience. What intrigues Marx He was a formidable critic of
about Hegel’s thought is an element of his dialectical method – that history develops his predecessor Immanuel
through the resolution of contradictions. Law is given as an exemplar of this process: Kant, and a formative
…in Hegel’s philosophy of law, civil law superseded equals morality, morality superseded influence on Karl Marx.
equals the family, the family superseded equals civil society, civil society superseded Through his influence on
equals world history. Marx, Hegel’s thought
has changed the course
Hegel argues that the state law comes out of the contradictions that exist in forms of of …history.’ (The Oxford
social arrangement that pre-date the modern, secular state. Society only becomes companion to philosophy, 1995,
p. 339)
modern and rational when it is ordered by law. This kind of thinking is important
because it is not simplistic. To understand the law one has to place it within a complex
historical and social totality.
Activity 13.2
Summarise Hegel’s view of law and society.
But what if Hegel was wrong? What if he did not understand that law, and indeed
other social phenomena, can be traced to economic relationships? We need to look at
a significant paragraph:
Under the patriarchal system, under the caste system, under the feudal and cooperative
system, there was a division of labour in the whole of society according to fixed rules. Were
these rules established by a legislator? No. Originally born of the conditions of material
production, they were raised to the status of laws only much later.
In denying that law can be understood by reference to a legislator, there is, of course,
a denial of the positivist theory of law. But we need to remember that this is also part
of the critique of Hegel, and hence also part of the question of method. Law is born of
‘the conditions of material production’. To return to the critique of Hegelian method,
this cannot be thought of as a progression of historical schemas; rather there is
another possibility.
Marx is not only critical of Hegel’s understanding of history. He is critical of the

way in which Hegel confuses different historical forms. Let’s trace this problem
with reference to the law. Marx observes that the Hegelian state is held together
by property. It is not the ethical life of the family, the life of ‘love’ that is central
to the state; there is something more: something that must preserve objectivity
and continuity. Behind the form of law is private property. Marx is able to suggest
an analogy between sovereignty and property: just as the state is expressed in its
generality as the monarch, property is ‘the supreme objectivity of the state …its
supreme law’ (Critique, p. 108). However, not all states are built on private property.
Consider Roman law. Here the roots of the law of private property are found in civil
law. In contrast with German law, though, this civil law does not become the law of
the state. Public power, furthermore, was not seen as resting on private power. Like
property it is based on a fact: the ‘sovereignty of empirical will’ (Critique, p. 110). Private
property relationships were not the apotheosis of the state, but merely one set of
relationships that composed the public bond.
Law, then, is not of a piece. The law of the rational, Prussian absolute state (i.e. that
with which Hegel was most familiar) is not that of the Roman Republic or Empire; nor
indeed is it identical with the law of the early German communities. The point here is
not so much that each of these modes of law relates directly to modes of production;
although Marx does not deny this possibility. Rather, he says, the form of law is
determined more broadly by historical and material circumstances. Marx goes on to
criticise the Hegelian method, which reduces history to an ideal pattern or schema.
Marx also resists Hegel’s idea that law reaches its most perfect form in the Prussian
state!
Activity 13.3
a. Why is Marx critical of Hegel’s theory of history?
b. What is Marx’s view of legal history?

As a consequence of this it would be wrong to see Marxist legal theory as based on a
schema that simply repeats this scheme and describes a movement from primitive
law, through feudal law to an apotheosis in the capitalist form of law.
One has to appreciate that what Marx is describing here is the way that capital can
takes a juridical form that changes over time. Indeed, the definition of capital with
which one of the sections of Marx’s ‘Paris Manuscripts’ (written in 1844) opens makes
precisely this point: ‘Even if capital itself does not merely amount to theft or fraud,
it still requires the co-operation of the legislation to sanctify inheritance.’ The most
important thing to grasp is that economy is a set of relationships that have to be
seized as a dynamic totality. How does the state function within this totality?
Summary
Marx develops his thought based on a critique of Hegel’s ideas. These presented a
broad picture of human history and development, and the mechanisms that Hegel
believed drove history in progressive directions. Marx rejected Hegel’s idealism
(particularly the view that the culmination of history was in the state of Prussia),
and instead tried to locate social institutions such as the law within a materialist
understanding of the social and economic context.
13.2 The Marxist theory of the state

For Marx, the state reflects a particular historical fact:
Through the emancipation of private property from the community, the State has become
a separate entity, beside and outside civil society; but it is nothing more than the form
of organisation which the bourgeois necessarily adopt both for internal and external
purposes, for the mutual guarantee of their property and interests. The independence
of the State is only found nowadays in those countries where the estates have not yet
completely developed into classes, where the estates, done away with in more advanced
countries, still have a part to play, and where there exists a mixture; countries, that is to
say, in which no one section of the population can achieve dominance over the others.
(The German ideology, written 1845–46 but not published until 1932.)
What is the central factor in the modern form of the state?
The state has fallen entirely into the hands of those who own property – a class that †
Bourgeois, bourgeoisie:
Marx called the bourgeoisie.† The bourgeoisie organises itself politically and takes
French words meaning
control of the state. The state (and its institutions) therefore come to serve the
literally ‘dwellers in a
interests of this property-owning class.
town (bourg)’. Marx used
How is this elaborated? ‘bourgeois’ to refer more
Since the State is the form in which the individuals of a ruling class assert their common narrowly to the ‘middle’ class
interests, and in which the whole civil society of an epoch is epitomised, it follows that who lived by investing their
the State mediates in the formation of all common institutions and that the institutions capital in manufacturing
receive a political form. Hence the illusion that law is based on the will, and indeed on the and commerce. They were
will divorced from its real basis – on free will. Similarly, justice is in its turn reduced to the a middle class because
actual laws. (Marx, The German ideology) they were in between the
aristocracy (owners of
How does law relate to the state?
land) and the peasantry
Marx argues that the state rests in class interest. If a class controls the state, then those and proletariat (owners of
aspects of the state that are used to regulate society will reflect those interests. Thus, nothing except their labour
the law reflects the interests of the bourgeoisie; the prevailing ideas of justice and power).
equality, likewise, will reflect those interests.
How can this be demonstrated?

With modern peoples, where the feudal community was disintegrated by industry and
trade, there began with the rise of private property and civil law a new phase, which
was capable of further development. The very first town which carried on an extensive
maritime trade in the Middle Ages, Amalfi, also developed maritime law. As soon as
industry and trade developed private property further, first in Italy and later in other
countries, the highly developed Roman civil law was immediately adopted again and
raised to authority. When later the bourgeoisie had acquired so much power that the
princes took up its interests in order to overthrow the feudal nobility by means of the
bourgeoisie, there began in all countries – in France in the sixteenth century – the real
development of law, which in all countries except England proceeded on the basis of the
Roman Codex. In England, too, Roman legal principles had to be introduced to further
the development of civil law (especially in the case of movable property). (It must not be
forgotten that law has just as little an independent history as religion.)
This is a theory of the history of law as an expression of class power. The forms of law
are not neutral and universal, but reflect the needs of a particular (ruling) class to
achieve certain ends. This is both coherent with Marx’s general thesis that we look to
material history to understand the law, and with the notion that the state ultimately
becomes the most rational and efficient way of achieving this end.
13.3 Marx’s theory of law in Das Kapital

Marx’s account of the operation of the capitalist mode of production in Kapital is seen
as his most mature and complex work. We cannot consider in detail what is a major
work of both philosophy and economy, but we can look at one of the sections where
Marx does explicitly discuss the law, and ask how they fit into the ideas that we have
outlined so far in this chapter.
In volume 1 of Kapital, Marx analyses the way that legislation† was used in the †
The first British factory
nineteenth century to regulate the length of the working day in factories in western legislation (the Health and
Europe and the United States: Moral of Apprentices Act)
appeared in 1802. This, like
The passion of capital for an unlimited and reckless extension of the working-day,
subsequent statutes, was
is first gratified in the industries earliest revolutionised by water-power, steam, and
restricted to the textile
machinery, in those first creations of the modern mode of production, cotton, wool, flax,
industry. Not until 1860 was
and silk spinning, and weaving. The changes in the material mode of production, and
any other industry legislated
the corresponding changes in the social relations of the producers gave rise first to an
for (the Bleach and Dye Works
extravagance beyond all bounds, and then in opposition to this, called forth a control on
Act).
the part of Society which legally limits, regulates, and makes uniform the working-day and
its pauses.
In Marx’s opinion, class interests lie behind the struggle for the regulation of the
working day. This struggle is fought out between the representatives of capital, who
want to increase their profits, and those who work in factories and mills, and whose
labour is a major source of those profits. Technological changes bring about the
promise of increased productivity. This leads, first of all, to changes in society in favour
of the requirement to leave the working day unregulated; in other words, to allow
factory and mill owners to determine how long a worker should work. There is then a
call to regulate the time spent working through law.
Marx adds detail to this account of the regulation of the working day:
This control appears, therefore, during the first half of the nineteenth century simply as
exceptional legislation. As soon as this primitive dominion of the new mode of production
was conquered, it was found that, in the meantime, not only had many other branches
of production been made to adopt the same factory system, but that manufactures with
more or less obsolete methods, such as potteries, glass-making, &c., that old-fashioned
handicrafts, like baking, and, finally, even that the so-called domestic industries, such
as nail-making, had long since fallen as completely under capitalist exploitation as the
factories themselves. Legislation was, therefore, compelled to gradually get rid of its
exceptional character, or where, as in England, it proceeds after the manner of the Roman
Casuists, to declare any house in which work was done to be a factory.
What does this tell us about the law?
Law attempts to keep pace with social and technological change. At first, attempts to
regulate the working day are exceptional pieces of legislation. However, as the impact
of the new technologies increases, and has a profound influence on forms of industries
that had previously been differently organised, the law must respond to this fact as
well. Thus the legal definition of ‘factory’ has to be expanded to cover ‘any house in
which work was done’. This allows an insight into the form of law. Legal definitions are
driven, in part, by the requirement that law should regulate the world of economy.
Marx draws the following conclusion:

The creation of a normal working-day is, therefore, the product of a protracted civil war,
more or less dissembled, between the capitalist class and the working-class.
What does this tell us about the ability of the law to achieve social justice?
Marx seems to be cynical about law’s role. Any achievement of the regulation of the
working day is driven not by the law, but the way in which the organised working class
uses the law. This is entirely coherent with Marx’s general theory of the law. If what
is central is the relation to the means of production, then social change can only be
achieved by those who are universally exploited, joining together. This is the ‘civil
war’: it goes beyond trade unionism. Marx seems to be suggesting that the only way in
which social justice will be achieved is to sweep away an economic order, and hence
an order of the state and of law. Social justice is achieved through revolution.
Summary
Marx’s complex work of social and economic theory, Das Kapital (to give it its original
German title) contains a theory of law. Law is determined by the economic interests
that it serves. Marx seems to suggest that if those exploited by the economic system
were able to organise themselves, they may be able to use law in their interests.
However, social justice could only be achieved through a transformation of the
economy.

uu outline Marx’s ideas of ideology, economy and society
uu identify the philosophical tradition out of which Marx’s thought emerges
uu describe Marx’s ideas of law and of the state.
13.4 Soviet Marxism and the law

The Russian revolution of 1917 is one of the key points in the development of Marxist
thought, and hence also in the Marxist theory of the law. If we accept that 1917 was
indeed a successful socialist revolution, then the ultimate fate of the Soviet Union
must suggest that there was something badly wrong in the way that Marx’s thought
was understood and ‘applied’. This is the next problem with which we will grapple.
We will look briefly at Soviet writers, and examine whether or not the revolution does
achieve social justice, and a new form of law.
13.4.1 Lenin and the state

What is the fate of the state?
We have already said above, and shall show more fully later, that the theory of Marx
and Engels of the inevitability of a violent revolution refers to the bourgeois state. The
latter cannot be superseded by the proletarian state (the dictatorship of the proletariat)
through the process of ‘withering away’, but, as a general rule, only through a violent
revolution. (Lenin, The state and revolution)
In this extract, Lenin is referring to a particular development of the Marxist notion

of the state. If it follows from Marxist theory that the state is the agent of the ruling
classes, then the revolution must destroy the state, and put in its place a socialist state.
This is only one element in a complete re-working of society. Remember, this is an
argument about social justice.
Law cannot achieve equality and justice unless it is linked to an economic order that
ensures communal ownership of the means of production. ‘Bourgeois law’ will only
ever reflect private property ownership; i.e. it must reflect the fact that social order is
based on the private ownership of the means of production. Lenin goes on to argue
that:
And so, in the first phase of communist society (usually called socialism) ‘bourgeois
law’ is not abolished in its entirety, but only in part, only in proportion to the economic
revolution so far attained, i.e., only in respect of the means of production. ‘Bourgeois
law’ recognises them [the means of production] as the private property of individuals.
Socialism converts them into common property. To that extent – and to that extent alone
– ‘bourgeois law’ disappears. (ibid.)
This is a practical argument. Bourgeois law is ‘swept away’ to the extent that it
relates to private ownership. But this is a gradualist approach. In the first phase of the
achieved utopia, other forms of bourgeois law may remain.
13.4.2 Evgeny Pashukanis

We are not concerned in this chapter so much with the practical work of
reconstruction that Lenin and the Bolsheviks achieved. We are more concerned with
the theory of law that they promulgated. In keeping with this argument, we turn to
one of the most celebrated Soviet writers on law: Evgeny Pashukanis. Pashukanis’
legal theory reflects the fact that there had been a successful overthrow of the old
government, and a socialist system was being put in place. This makes his work very
different from that of Marx himself, who was offering a theory or philosophy of law
prior to any successful socialist revolution.
What are Pashukanis’ main themes? Like Lenin, Pashukanis argues that with the
triumph of the planned economy and the destruction of private property, law
will cease to have a function. However, Pashukanis is also providing a history and
philosophy of ‘bourgeois’ law, and it is in this sense that he goes further than Lenin.
Law is derived from the form of private property. To extend this argument would mean
that the legal form is seen as reaching its most developed state in a certain historic
epoch: with the rise of bourgeois capitalism. Capitalism presupposes a market, where
goods can be freely exchanged. This contrasts with feudalism. Pashukanis argues
that in medieval times, the relationship of subservience and dominance is not legally
articulated: ‘the slave is totally subservient to his master’. In the capitalist epoch,
economic relations are ‘mediated’ through particular economic forms, the contract
for example:
the economic relation of exchange must be present for the legal relation of contracts
and purchase to be able to arise. Political power, can with the aid of laws, regulate, alter,
condition and concretise the form and content of this legal transaction in the most
diverse manner. The law can determine in great detail what may be bought and sold, how,
under what conditions and by whom. (Pashukanis, A general theory of law)
If bourgeois law is linked to the regulation of the market, how should law operate in a
society that has rejected the market? The failure to answer this question is the great
failure of Soviet Marxism. Indeed, the Soviet state became a monolithic body. Law
served to regulate and enforce the state’s dictats, rather than providing any real limits
on the state’s power to plane and shape economy and society. Let’s consider this point
a little further. Pashukanis’ critique was:
…fraught with theoretical and political problems. Since Pashukanis saw law as based
on exchange relations and since he equated capitalism simply with the generalisation
of exchange (rather than with exploitative relations of production which derive from
the exchange of labour power), he could only conclude that all exchange was capitalist
exchange and all law was bourgeois law. The result was a one-sided critique which
excluded the possibility of socialist legality and neglected any question of democratising
and socialising the law. This played into the hands of the evolving Stalinist regime, which
deployed his theory of the primacy of technical regulation under socialism to justify the
power of the bureaucracy and its disregard for legal constraints. (Sol Picciotto and Robert
Fine, ‘On Marxist critiques of law’ The critical lawyer’s handbook. See http://nclg.org.uk/wp-
content/uploads/2011/10/The_Critical_Lawyers_Handbook_Volume_1.pdf)
Activity 13.4
What criticisms can be made of Pashukanis’ work?
13.5 Setting Marx the right way up: Western Marxism
13.5.1 Marxist critiques of Soviet Marxism

The demise of the socialist dream in Soviet Russia should not be seen as exhausting
the Marxist project. We can refer to a later phase of Marxism that was as critical of
Western societies as it was of ‘state socialism’. Fine and Picciotto argue that:
The revival of Marxism in Western Europe in the 1960s and 1970s was a reaction against the
failures both of a Stalinism, which supported the dogmas and tyrannies of state socialism,
and of complacent liberalism, which ignored or tolerated the inequalities and oppressions
of capitalism. Consequently Marxist critiques of law and the state have had a twofold
dynamic, focusing on the limits both of bourgeois freedom in systems based on private
property, and of ‘sociaIist’ freedom in systems based on state property.
Perhaps the most interesting and relevant contemporary forms of Marxism are
developed by French, German and Italian writers, attempting to update Marx’s insights
to describe modern, Western capitalism. We will look at the work of the French Marxist
philosopher, Louis Althusser (1918–90).
Althusser poses the question: ‘Is there a different way of reading Marx?’ To achieve this
we would have to return to the central contribution of Marx’s theory: an account of
economy.
Perhaps Marx’s account of economy has been misunderstood. Marx was careful
to point out that superstructural development cannot be plotted in the same
way as economic change. In other words, one cannot make a simple link between
economic forms like capitalism or feudalism and forms of law. There is a differential
development between base and superstructure. What does this mean? At any given
moment there will be a complex relationship between the economic system and the
other institutions that compose the social structure.
13.5.2 How can one begin to re-read Marx?

The key is to turn to the theory of economy that Marx presents. Marx is not arguing
that a given mode of economic production will necessarily produce a given legal
form. It is necessary to think in terms of the base and the superstructure developing in
different ways.
To develop these ideas, we will turn to the writings of Louis Althusser in the seminal
text Reading Kapital.
Althusser builds on Marx. At the heart of Althusser’s system is the economic, or the
mode (or relations) of production. Althusser’s thinking moves from the economic
through to a positing of the entire social totality; thus to describe the social totality
is to ‘define’ the economic, just as defining the economic will allow a positing of the
social totality. For example, a feudal means of production will result in a society that is
organised ‘feudally’; a ‘capitalist’ mode of production a ‘capitalist’ society.
Activity 13.5
a. In what ways are Marxists critical of both Western liberalism and Soviet
communism?
b. What criticisms of the law are made by Fine and Picciotto?
c. In what ways does Althusser’s work build on Marx’s basic theory?

This approach would be entirely coherent with the basic tenets of Marxist theory as
outlined above. It displays both the strengths and weaknesses of the Marxist account.
It can present a total image of a social structure: a way of thinking the relationships
between various aspects of society; it also carries the risk that one looks to economy
to understand society.
In Reading Kapital, Althusser is suggesting that it is too simplistic to describe the

inherently complex set of relationships and inter-relationships that characterise social
being in terms of isolated instances: even dividing up the social into ‘economy’, ‘law’
and ‘culture’ imposes a crude analytical device that posits definable and isolatable
‘instances’ – parts of a complex whole, that can be divided off from each other and
labelled by the observer. Furthermore, the very idea that the social can be modelled
on the basis of a ‘whole’ – a coherent assembly in which the parts fit together – is also
too simplistic.
However, one needs to remember that this is an analytical language. We must not
abandon Althusser too soon. How can we think about the law, the ‘legal instance’ in
this complex conjugation? Can we build a model of complexity, or, does it fall back
into a crude distinction between base and superstructure?
Althusser makes a distinction between production, or economy, and the ‘legal-

political and ideological superstructure’ (Reading Kapital, p. 177). In each of these
instances, law and economy, we would have to find a differentiation; a complexity. In
other words, a combination of law and economy would characterise economy, just
as it would law. Sure enough, in economic production, there is a distinction between
the objects of production, such as land, and the instruments of production. Agents of
production (human beings, that is) are split into direct agents, whose labour is directly
used in production, and another group who own the means of production, but do not
labour in it directly. Economic ‘formations’ are thus defined by the result of different
combinations that are at once economic and legal.
Following Althusser’s theory, we could see law as essential to the structuring of

economy, and economy as therefore inseparable from law. We would thus be able to
produce an account of the law that can take into consideration the law’s specific form,
while allowing that this form also enters into relationships with economic concepts
and practices.
What are the key elements of Althusser’s re-reading of Marx?

Althusser is breaking down the distinction between base and superstructure, to
produce a theory of the economic determination of the social as one of complex
conjugation. Alongside this re-thinking of economy, we can see Althusser producing a
new theory of ideology.
As we have seen, the Marxist tradition understands the state as an instrument of the
ruling class. The instruments at its disposal are not just the repressive institutions
such as the police, and, in emergencies, the army. A full list of the state apparatus is
open-ended, but would include: ‘the Government, the Administration, the Army, the
Police, the Court [and] the Prisons’. Merely as a point of clarification at this stage, it is
arguable that these ‘repressive’ state apparatuses (RSAs) do not all operate through
physical repression, even though this may be true in the last instance. ‘Administration’,
for instance, works through bureaucratic structures that regulate and distribute
resources. Moreover, it is a commonplace of political theory that rule through physical
repression alone is inefficient, and encourages resistance.
Accounting for the law through violence, though, is not enough. Clearly the modern
state does not justify itself through its control over the monopoly of violence.
Capitalism is a social formation that must reproduce the conditions of its own
production (Althusser, 1984). That is to say that both the productive forces and the
relations of production must renew themselves. This is a global operation that laces
together the various sectors of the economy. It also produces the double requirement
of ideology, which must reproduce the skills necessary to work, manage and co-
ordinate and, at the same time, reproduce subjection to the ruling order.
In what ways does Althusser build a new theory of law and ideology?
Althusser argues that law is central to the creation and continuation of ideology. He
characterises law as an ‘ideological state apparatus’ (ISA). ISAs are far more subtle
than the repressive apparatus of the state (RSAs) that we considered above. They
actually create the world in which we live. This is a real development of Marx’s theory
of ideology.
Instead of the notion that ideology is a veil that separates the real from the unreal,
it becomes the very ‘point’ or a ‘hinge’ that connects the subject to the real world.
Ideology is thus a way of describing the mechanism through which the subject is
inserted into a given material reality. In its most extended form, it is a materialist
theory of the subject as ‘made’ by material circumstance. Thus ‘subjective’ states are
not to be seen as ‘essences’, ‘ideas’ or ‘spiritual substances’, but the very complexes
that attach the subject to an external world; in a sense the private, inner world of
the separate self disappears. Consciousness, freely formed, and belief are thus the
points when the subject is the least free, when the subject is ‘inscribed into material
practices’. Of course, these material practices relate finally to the reproduction of the
means of production.
So ‘we’ are created by our relationship to the means of production. What Althusser is
suggesting is that your sense of ‘self’ is ultimately explicable by the role you play in the
economy. Law lends support to this creation of the self. Law positions us as buyers or
sellers of goods, criminals, fiduciaries, husbands and wives. In other words, you aren’t
what you think you are. You ‘are’ to the extent that law and economy allow you to be!
Activity 13.6
What are Althusser’s ISAs and how do they operate?
Summary
Althusser produces a sophisticated re-reading of Marx that relates social being to
economy in a more subtle way than was implied by Marx’s rather deterministic notion
that the economic ‘base’ drives the social and ideological ‘superstructure’.
13.6 Marxism, law and international economy

One of the most interesting contemporary readings of Marx comes from the work of
those scholars who are trying to understand the operation of law and global economy.
In some senses, the focus of study shifts from questions of class and the nation state,
to issues of global governance. Perhaps Althusser’s notion of ideology can help us
understand how people are positioned in networks of global exchange, and new
identities are created. In other words, maybe ideology plays a part in determining
those ‘selves’ who are positioned as economic migrants or managers, bankers or
refugees. Moreover, perhaps world trade and the law that regulates world markets,
for instance, can be understood in terms of the perpetuation of relationships of
dominance and subservience between developing and developed nations.
We can make a distinction between developed metropole and undeveloped satellites.

This division is based on a global division of labour, a requirement that production is
for the market. To borrow the language of Baran (1957, p. 142) the ‘unilateral transfers’
of wealth from the colonised nations to those of Western Europe can be seen as
a primary reason why intense industrial development in First World nations was
accompanied by the traumatic dislocation of agricultural societies forced to service
the requirements of their colonial masters. This interference in the process of capital
accumulation could be seen as having a serious impact on the development of the
colonised territories (Kiely, 1995, pp.40–47).
A total critique of the very terms in which the global framework operates can be found
in Wallerstein’s (1974) world systems theory. The underpinnings of the disequilibria
in world economy can be related to the interaction of certain key factors. World
economy can be seen as a product of the geographical expansion of Western power
from the sixteenth century onwards. This process is coupled with a zoning of the
world; a specialisation of different areas in the production of materials and labour for
manufacture. In turn, this zoning relates to interactions between colonial expansion

and economic development along capitalist lines. The process is accompanied by
an institutional logic that locates the development of strong states at the centre
of economic networks that can ensure the ongoing transfer of resources to the
developed economies.
How can we read this into the law? We could look at international trade law.
Conventional accounts present the efforts of governments and international
organisations to ‘bring some order into the chaos of international trade’ (Jackson,
1999, p. 2). Indeed, the American desire to create a regime based on free trade and
non-discrimination remains one of the principles underlying GATT (Dam, 1970). The
defenders of this approach raise the argument that trade tends towards the most
rational organisation of resources, and the legal regulation helps to achieve this end.
However, could we not see international trade and trade law as a historical
phenomenon, as bound up with the creation of the nation state, colonialism and
the post-colonial? We need to appreciate a power dynamic that runs through the
operation of trade and financial systems.
WTO figures show that between 1990 and 2002, although developing nations may
have maintained their share of world trade, they have remained on the margins of the †
For instance, although
world trade system as a whole.† How has this persistent problem been approached?
export earnings have grown
Development was put firmly on the agenda in 1999 with the failure of the Seattle
(2002 showed a 4% growth to
Ministerial Conference (amid large-scale protest demonstrations) to agree another
US$38 billion), imports have
round of talks. Seattle led to another questioning of the ability of the WTO to
still exceeded exports (2002
co-ordinate world trade; in particular the consensus-orientated approach was
showed an increase of 3%).
criticised by developing nations. See Cancun Press Briefing at
The WTO’s own version of affairs contrasts this stalemate with the ‘breakthrough’ that http://web.worldbank.org/
was achieved at the next ministerial meeting in Doha, 2001, with the publication of the WBSITE/EXTERNAL/NEWS/co
Doha Development Agenda (DDA). This document stressed the need for developing ntentMDK:20126037~menu
nations to achieve greater access to world markets, and initiated a work programme PK:34465~pagePK:640030
15~piPK:64003012~theSite
to push forward the development initiative. The WTO acknowledged ‘the particular
PK:4607,00.html
vulnerability of least-developed countries and the special structural difficulties they
face in the global economy’.
Can these problems be resolved by law? It would be possible to argue that the law
should not be concerned with issues of international social justice, but has a narrower
role as a formal tool to regulate world markets. Might it be possible to suggest then,
that if those markets operate to the benefit of certain parts of the world, and to
the marginalisation others, then the Marxist insight into the nature of capital is still
relevant? Moreover, the basic Marxist jurisprudential insight remains accurate. To
understand the law, you must look to the economic forms that underlie the law: to
understand globalised law, one has to understand the global market.
Activity 13.7
To what extent is a Marxist approach to trade law useful?
Conclusion: If you tolerate this, your children will be next† †

‘If you tolerate this, your
Iraq since being conquered in 2003 has been opened to private companies and children will be next’:
originally a Republican slogan
investors. The reconstruction of Iraq is particularly attractive to private companies,
from 1936–39 Spanish Civil
offering many more opportunities than those that existed in the aftermath of the 1991
War; latterly a pop song by
Gulf War. The country’s oil revenues, and the projected return of skilled Iraqis from
the radical British group
exile abroad, make for enticing construction and development prospects. Contracts
Manic Street Preachers.
for the reconstruction of Iraq are estimated to be worth $100 billion (though in
practice, during 2004 nearly half of the funds earmarked for reconstruction were
being spent on ‘security’ for the contractors involved).
European companies were placing pressure on their governments to make their

cases to the American administration, and the International Herald Tribune reported
a ‘corporate scramble’ that extended to ‘corporate scouts’ operating with military
forces in Iraq. Corporate scouts are ‘reserve officers’, who, while fulfilling military
functions, identify business opportunities. One particular issue is the control of the
communications industry. It is alleged that Vodaphone has been making overtures,
but the differences in telecommunications technology between Europe and the US
strongly suggest that this share of the market will be awarded to US companies.
Marxism as an outdated nineteenth-century theory that can tell us nothing about our
world? Think about it.

uu describe the characteristics of Soviet jurisprudence
uu explain the development of Marx’s theories of ideology, economy and law by
Louis Althusser
uu indicate how Marx’s thought might be relevant to a contemporary theory of
international law.
References
¢¢ Althusser, L. Essays on ideology. (London: Verso, 1984).
¢¢ Bankowski, Z. and G. Mungham Images of law. (London: Routledge, 1976).
¢¢ Baran, P. The political economy of growth. (New York: Monthly Review Press,
1957).
¢¢ Bottomore, T. and P. Goode Readings in Marxist sociology. (Oxford: Oxford

¢¢ Dam, K. W. The GATT: Law and international economic organization. (Chicago:

University of Chicago Press, 1970).
¢¢ Jackson, J. H. The Jurisprudence of GATT and the WTO: Insights into treaty law and
economic relations. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999).
¢¢ Kiely, R. Sociology and development: The impasse and beyond. (London: Routledge,
1995).
¢¢ Wallerstein, I. The modern world system: capitalist agriculture and the origins of
the european world-economy in the sixteenth century Vol. 1. (New York: Academic
Press, 1974).
Reflect and review



I can outline Marx’s ideas of ideology, economy and

society.   
I can identify the philosophical tradition out of which

Marx’s thought emerges.   
I can describe Marx’s ideas of law and of the state.   
I can describe the characteristics of Soviet

jurisprudence.   
I can explain the development of Marx’s theories of

ideology, economy and law by Louis Althusser.   
I can indicate how Marx’s thought might be relevant

to a contemporary theory of international law.   
revise?
Must Revision
revise done
13.1 Marx’s basic ideas of ideology, economy and society  
13.2 The Marxist theory of the state  
13.3 Marx’s theory of law in Das Kapital  
13.4 Soviet Marxism and the law  
13.5 Setting Marx the right way up: Western Marxism  
13.6 Marxism, law and international economy  

14 Liberalism and law
Contents
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 202
14.1 Utilitarianism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 203
14.2 Criticisms of utilitarianism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 204
14.3 Liberalism: liberty and equality . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 205
14.4 Disagreements about morality: can they be resolved rationally? . . . . 206
14.5 Equality . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 207
14.6 The economic analysis of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 208

Introduction
This chapter introduces you to the general topic of what liberalism is, and how
ideas of liberalism interact with law. It begins by looking at the modern versions of
utilitarianism, in particular rule-utilitarianism, and its criticisms, and so it builds on the
reading that you will have done for Chapter 3 of this module guide, since the origins
of utilitarianism are to be found in the works of Jeremy Bentham. Utilitarianism is a
liberal doctrine. It aims at happiness, or in more modern terms, preference satisfaction
or welfare, and this idea fundamentally gains its power from its emphasis on liberty. In
turn, since one person’s liberty is another person’s lack of freedom, a moral principle
of equality can be uncovered, that regulates each person’s relationship with each
other. This relationship particularly comes out in the idea of the marketplace, where
we expect people in the ideal world to be as far as possible free to bargain without the
constraints created by inequalities of bargaining power. The idea was taken up in the
1970s, most famously by the Chicago School of Law, and its doctrines became known
simply as ‘the Chicago School’. Also discussed in this chapter is the idea that moral
disagreements can sometimes be resolved by rational means.
Learning outcomes
uu explain modern utilitarianism
uu outline your attitude towards the idea of liberty
uu describe Lord Devlin’s, Hart’s and Mill’s views on liberty
uu discuss the idea that the criminal law should be used to enforce morality
uu comment on the nature of moral disagreement
uu comment on the importance of moral equality
uu discuss critically the economic analysis of law.
Essential reading
Chapter 9 (generally on reverse discrimination but particularly his distinction
between treating people as equals and equal treatment) and Chapter 10
(particularly the section ‘The concept of a moral position’).
¢¢ Dworkin, R. A matter of principle. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1985)

[ISBN 0198255748] Chapters 12 and 13 (the classic criticisms of the Chicago
school).
¢¢ Fletcher, G. Basic concepts of legal thought. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996)
[ISBN 0195083369]. See the final part, ‘Morality in the law’, particularly Chapter
10. This provides an excellent account of the economic concepts in frequent use.
¢¢ Glover, J. Causing death and saving lives. (London: Penguin, 1990)

[ISBN 0140134794] Chapter 2.
¢¢ Harris, J. Legal philosophies. (London: Butterworths, 1997) second edition

[ISBN 0406507163] pp.42–47 (and see the very useful reading list on p. 48).
¢¢ Mill, J. On liberty. (1859) (many editions are available, and the famous ‘harm
principle’, which you should know, is widely described on the Internet; you
should type ‘Mill’s harm principle’ into your search engine).
¢¢ Raz, J. The morality of freedom. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986)

[ISBN 0198247729] Chapters 4, 14 and 15 (particularly Chapter 15, for a re-
interpretation of Mill’s ‘harm principle’).
Jurisprudence and legal theory 14 Liberalism and law page 203
14.1 Utilitarianism
Essential reading
Sweet & Maxwell, 2002) [ISBN 0421741201] Chapter 1.
¢¢ Rawls, J. A theory of justice. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999)

[ISBN 019825055X] pp.22–27 and 46–53.
¢¢ Smart, J. J. C. and B. Williams Utilitarianism: for and against. (Cambridge:

Cambridge University Press,1977). [ISBN 052109822X] This is most comprehensive
– a long but very useful read. The Williams reply is difficult but is regarded by
many as the classic attack on utilitarianism.
Further reading
¢¢ Shaver, R. ‘The appeal of utilitarianism’ (2004) 16 Utilitas 235
is a nice account of what it is about utilitarianism that continues to appeal even

though it can be criticised so readily. Shaver argues that it is because the theory places
so very much weight on welfare (happiness and well-being).
¢¢ Nussbaum, M. ‘Rawls’s political liberalism: a reassessment’ (2011) 24 Ratio Juris 1
is a concise and insightful overview of Rawls’s later views on the nature of liberalism
and the issues to which it gives rise.
A frequent criticism of Rawls’ liberalism is that it draws too sharp a distinction

between political relations between citizens and our relations in different capacities
(as friends, relatives, etc.) which often involve a face-to-face mutual recognition and an
emotional bond. In the following book, Martha Nussbaum tries to reconcile the two:
¢¢ Nussbaum, M.C. Political emotions: why love matters for justice. (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 2013) [ISBN 9780674724655].
This section looks at the modern discussion of utilitarianism, so the topic arises as a
natural progression from Chapter 3 of this guide.
Utilitarianism is a moral theory, first written widely about by Jeremy Bentham, who
is often acknowledged as the father of English Jurisprudence. It is therefore included
in the syllabus partly for historical reasons. But utilitarianism has had an enormous
effect on English (and Commonwealth) practical life. Note, in particular, its effect on
the growth of liberalism (‘each man to count as one, no one to count for more than
one’) and economics. It is difficult for law to get right away from addressing moral
questions, and utilitarianism, in its various forms, is widely accepted. The extract
from Rawls will set you on the right path. Some Jurisprudence students really get into
utilitarianism, because it is a good way of working out what your own ideas are. It is,
in fact, the easiest and most fruitful way to begin to discover what moral philosophy is
about. Some of the best answers ever given in a Jurisprudence examination have been
on utilitarianism. One of the things that has marked out the answers is a display of
reasoned commitment to a view, thus satisfying one of the most important objectives
of your study: to adopt a critical approach.
It would be a serious mistake to suppose that utilitarianism ended with Bentham:

there are modern variants. You should also be aware that a common complaint by
committed utilitarians is that critics of the idea (often called, as you will discover, the
‘deontologists’) misunderstand how subtle utilitarianism can be. So, make sure that
in writing examination answers you are strictly fair to the account of utilitarianism
you give. If you fail to provide a good model of utilitarianism to criticise (if you are
so minded) then your arguments will seem much weaker because you will be open
to the criticism that you ‘missed the point’. An example of a strengthened version of
utilitarianism, designed to forestall objections based on the idea that people have
rights, is ‘rule’ utilitarianism, invented, incidentally by lawyers wishing to explain
legal rights in utilitarian terms. (See the examination example on utilitarianism in the
introductory chapter to this guide.)
1. What is the difference between act and rule utilitarianism?
2. What is ‘preference’ utilitarianism?
14.2 Criticisms of utilitarianism

There are many criticisms and it will be instructive to list the main lines of thought,
which you should follow up in your reading:
uu utilitarianism relies too much on describing people’s actually existing desires and
so is insufficiently aspirational to be a good moral theory (i.e. it is philistine)
uu utilitarianism relies on the consequences of an act, rather than an act’s inherent

rightness (i.e. it ignores people’s rights – see the ‘tramp’ example below)
uu utilitarianism’s implicit idea of maximisation mistakenly assumes people’s different

values to be commensurable (e.g. it can equate poetry with drinking beer).
A clear and comprehensive account of arguments both for and against utilitarianism
is to be found in the Smart and Williams debate, Professor Smart taking the pro-
utilitarian line and Professor Williams taking a famous anti-utilitarian line. It is a
difficult read, but a candidate who is aiming for the best marks will read this book
from cover to cover. It is readily available and is not so long (but the Williams’ half is
tough-going …).
Consider the following example. You come across a tramp unconscious through drugs.
You recognise him as someone you’ve treated as a doctor and you know that he has
not long to live, has no dependents and suffers severe depression. You are a utilitarian
(perhaps you have read Chapter 3 of this module guide) and so you think you know
your duty. You inject the tramp with £1’s worth of a sleeping drug, sufficient to kill him.
What is the upside? The tramp suffers no pain, and no more depression. You are
happier, as you feel you have done your utilitarian duty. No-one finds out and so
no-one feels threatened (you do this secretly, and it easy to do, as the tramp was in an
alley). The evidence is that the tramp, if he had not been killed, would have continued
living for another six months committing various petty crimes, and so a stop has been
brought to these. The tramp’s burial is cheap, and no more social security expenditure
or hospital expenditure is needed for him. Now consider the following questions. It is
important that you know where you stand on all this, so try to form a view:† †
If you think that the
answer may come from the
uu Even if everyone is better off, including the tramp, was the killing justified?
perspective of the tramp,
uu If it was not justified, why not? you have identified a central
weakness of utilitarianism:
uu Could it be that it is justified, but we feel irrational ‘squeamish’ feelings (see
it cannot take the individual
Williams, above) that we should learn to suppress because this was the right act?
perspective into account.
uu Would a rule utilitarian approach produce a better result? Why?
If you think that the answer may come from the perspective of the tramp, you
have identified a central weakness of utilitarianism: it cannot take the individual
perspective into account.
Summary
Utilitarianism judges acts by their outcomes for the general good. Sometimes it takes
a rule-oriented approach, allowing that people should be treated in certain sorts of
ways because, although the short-term outcome is not for the general good, the long-
term outcome is. The major criticism of utilitarianism is that it ignores the perspective
of the individual. This perspective is generally characterised in terms of rights. So even
if the general good were enhanced by the unconsented-to killing of an individual, this
would not be sufficient to overcome our feelings that this would be wrong.
14.3 Liberalism: liberty and equality
Essential reading
¢¢ Devlin, P. The enforcement of morals. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1965)
[ISBN 0192850180] Chapters 1, 5 and 7.

1983) [ISBN 0198253885] Essay 11: ‘Social solidarity and the enforcement of
morality’.
¢¢ Hart, H. Law, liberty and morality. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1963)
[ISBN 0192850172].
¢¢ Mill, J. On liberty. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989)

[ISBN 0521370159] Chapters 1 and 4.
The development and acceptance of the twin ideals of liberty and equality have been
a hallmark of the last 500 years. Do not be put off by the apparently wide scope of this
topic, as there is also great scope for original contribution by you. Try to form your
own opinion on these matters. In all probability you will find that you have one already
and your reading will help you to refine your ideas. Do not be afraid to exercise your
imagination.
Liberty: the Hart–Devlin debate

Lord Devlin’s view is that morality is that which the ordinary man ‘on the Clapham
omnibus’ thinks, and those moral views that man has for which he has very strong
feelings of indignation are, just for that reason, enforceable by criminal sanction. Hart
does not think that the ordinary man’s reactions are a criterion of moral rightness, nor
does he think that doing wrong is strong ground for criminal sanction. Rather, he takes
the line of John Stuart Mill that society should only prevent people from doing those
things that interfere with the freedom of others, thus extending Mill’s idea of ‘harm to
others’ to ‘interfering with the freedom of others’.
Constantly test yourself as you read, in order to find out what you think of the quality
of the debate between Devlin and Hart. Do you agree with Devlin? If so, why? And do
you agree with Hart? If so, why? You cannot agree with both. One way to compare
the two jurists is to think up an example where there are no obvious harmful social
consequences of a person’s conduct, but where you are inclined to think that the
behaviour is, nevertheless, immoral in some way. The usual sort of case is where
the conduct displays lack of self-discipline (e.g. extreme laziness, the taking of hard
drugs), or is disrespectful to people, or to life (e.g. hate speech, or some motivations
for abortion), or is indulgent (e.g. laziness again, or obsession with pornography) or
tasteless (again, pornography). Should any of this conduct be criminally punishable
by the community? Why? You should constantly keep in mind the different variables.
What is the precise duty, if any, of the community? Should it extend to criminal
punishment for these activities, as opposed to education or remonstration? Should
it have any say? Is homosexual conduct ‘tasteless’ or ‘abhorrent’? Should people be
required to conform externally to a code of conduct they genuinely and honestly do
not believe in?
Test yourself by trying to work out what is:
1. Devlin’s position on each of the above questions
2. Hart’s positions on the questions
3. Your own position.

14.4 Disagreements about morality: can they be resolved

rationally?
Essential reading
Chapter 10 (particularly the section entitled ‘The concept of a moral position’).
¢¢ Glover, J. Causing death and saving lives. (London: Penguin, 1990)

[ISBN 0140134794] Chapter 2: ‘Moral disagreements’.
¢¢ Also see the reading on the ‘one right answer’ thesis in Chapter 11.
Both Dworkin and Glover discuss the nature of moral reasoning. They are easy to read,
not long, and full of examples. Ronald Dworkin outlines what he calls ‘the concept
of a moral position’. He takes up the point, arising from the Hart–Devlin debate (see
previous section), that the ordinary man’s reactions can be irrational, or prejudiced, or
lacking in evidence, or a mere ‘gut reaction’, or just repeating (‘parroting’) the views
of others. None of this amounts to even to having a wrong moral point of view but
rather to not even being in the position of saying that this a moral view at all. Jonathan
Glover takes a similar line. He says that moral disagreement can be factual (e.g. ‘laws
cause misery’) or non-factual (taking human life is wrong – full stop). He says that in
resolving disagreement in morals, we can go back to ultimate ‘axioms’, although these
can often be ‘blurred or incoherent’ (e.g. that homosexuality is ‘unnatural’), or logically
inadequate (e.g. animals don’t suffer because they’re not rational), and they can just
be logically inconsistent (e.g. the person who says that taking human life is always
wrong, but says he believes in the ‘just war’). What comes out of these two articles
is a thesis that arguing about morality is not just arguing about matters of ‘purely
subjective opinion’ but about matters that can be debated rationally. Not every view
that someone puts forward as a valid moral view, however strongly that person feels
about it, is a moral view. People can be mistaken, and have wrong beliefs, if their views
fail to reach a certain threshold of rationality.
Activity 14.1
Consider the truth of the following statements, held by someone or other at some
time, and write one sentence as to why you think it is true or false:
uu homosexuality is wrong because my parents told me
uu homosexuality is wrong because the Bible says so
uu homosexuality is wrong because it causes earthquakes (apparently the Emperor
Justinian believed this)
uu wearing clothes is unnatural
uu pornography causes mental harm
uu capital punishment is justified because it stops people committing crimes.
14.5 Equality
You should consider the
¢¢ Raz, J. The morality of freedom. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986) following questions as you
[ISBN 0198247729] Chapter 4: ‘The authority of states’. read the material on equality.
• What, if anything, are
¢¢ Williams, B. ‘The idea of equality’ in Laslett and Runciman (eds) Philosophy, people equal in?
politics and society. (Oxford: Blackwell, 1962) [ISBN 0631048804] p.125 (a famous • Equality is a comparative
and classic introduction to the idea of equality). idea, comparing at least
two things. What is the
Bernard Williams argues that equality has a special meaning in morality to strike at
comparison between when
unjustified statuses and hierarchies. One of the reasons we approve of ‘equality of
it comes to judging people
opportunity’ is that we think that everyone, because of their common humanity,
equally?
should have the same sorts of chances in life, even though some do not, perhaps
• Is there a difference
cannot, take them up. But there are problems with the idea. Some people are for more
between treating a person
freedom and less equality. They say they oppose equality because it is ‘uneconomic’ ‘as an equal’ and ‘treating
and stifles human endeavour, enterprise and creativity, having in mind ‘equality’ as it two people equally’? If
was interpreted in the former Soviet bloc countries. Others say we should have more there is, what significance,
equality and less freedom, and these people are usually for more state support and if any, does the difference
intervention, particularly in the real marketplace. The enemy for these people is the have?
society in which those who are capable of exercising freedom come out on top. Not • Is there a relationship
everyone can exercise freedom to the same extent. But healthy and intelligent people, between a moral principle
who have – let us say – an entrepreneurial spirit, may take freedom away from others of equality and the maxim
by manipulation and exploitation. of the New Testament that
you should ‘do unto others
You should consider where you stand on all this. But it is useful to have some tools at
as you would they do unto
your disposal. One is that you should note a famous difficulty with the idea of equality,
you’?
which is that it is claimed to be an empty ideal. Note first the comparative nature of
• If people should be treated
equality. Someone is equal to someone else; someone is unequal to someone else. as equals, what follows
It requires a judgment about the extent to which one state of affairs matches up to, about the distribution of
or compares with, another. Obviously, the idea of comparing human beings with one wealth? Does it mean that
another is, in many respects, absurd and that is one reason why so many have rejected each person is entitled to
the idea altogether. That was why Jeremy Bentham, in his work Anarchical fallacies the same-sized share?
(1796), said that if we really were to regard people as equal:
The madman has as good a right to confine anybody else, as anybody else has to confine
him. The idiot has as much right to govern everybody, as anybody has to govern him. (See
Waldron, J. Nonsense upon stilts. (London: Methuen, 1987) [ISBN 0 416 91890 5] pp.29ff and
particularly p. 42.)
A reasonable answer to Bentham’s remark is that what is common to all people is their
humanity – everyone is a human being – and it is that in respect of which each person
is equal. But it then seems possible, as a number of philosophers have argued (see Raz,
The morality of freedom, Chapter 4), to drop the equality idea from this and just say that
‘all people should be treated as human beings’.
Summary
Perhaps, if you want to hold onto equality, equality should be seen as a quality of our
acts towards others, measured in how we treat them and not by the amount that
people are ‘equalised’. If the focus is turned this way, it is possible to see that equality
might be implied in the common sort of complaint that goes ‘I’m a person, too’, or ‘Try
to see it from my point of view’, or ‘Be fair to me.’
14.6 The economic analysis of law
The best way into this very
¢¢ Dworkin, R. A matter of principle. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1985) [ISBN interesting subject, which
0198255748] Chapters 12 and 13 (the classic criticisms of the Chicago school). unites legal reasoning directly
with positions in political
¢¢ Fletcher, G. Basic concepts of legal thought. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996) philosophy, is to read the
[ISBN 0195083369]. See the final part, ‘Morality in the law’, particularly Chapter overview readings, Harris and
10. This provides an excellent account of the economic concepts in frequent use. Fletcher, first. The Fletcher
is particularly good, but it is
¢¢ Fried, C. Right and wrong. (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1978)
easier if the Harris is read first.
[ISBN 0674769058] Chapter 4.
Then test yourself by making
¢¢ Guest, S. Ronald Dworkin. (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1997) second sure you understand:
edition [ISBN 0748608052] Chapter 9: ‘Justice for hedgehogs’. • the Pareto criterion
• the Kaldor–Hicks criterion
¢¢ Harris, J. Legal philosophies. (London: Butterworths, 1997) second edition
• the Coase theorem
[ISBN 0406507163] pp.42–47 (and see the very useful reading list on p. 48). • the ideal market and
¢¢ Nozick, R. Anarchy, state and utopia. (New York: Basic Books, 1971) the differences between
[ISBN 0465097200] pp.57–87 and 160–164 (and see Simmonds, Chapter 3). welfare, wealth and
currency.
¢¢ Posner, R. The economics of justice. (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, This will then give you the
1981) [ISBN 0674235258] Chapter 14: ‘Bakke, Weber and beyond’. basics. Don’t be put off by
the technical terms because,
The economic analysis of law is a way of looking at utilitarianism, and the intermeshing
once you are used to them,
of the ideas of liberty and equality. Ask yourself: what is attractive about the ideal
you find the subject doesn’t
market? Much of it derives from the attraction of that most basic tool of economists
get any harder. This is a most
– the Pareto criterion of economic success. The Pareto criterion says that when we
rewarding subject to get into
make a bargain with another, so that at least one of us is better off and neither is worse
it and my experience is that
off, that must produce a better state of affairs. A major attraction of the idea of the
some students find it the
free market is that the parties are at liberty to bargain as they like and that is why the
most rewarding part of the
outcomes seem fair. But obviously, it is easy to argue that the outcome is only fair if module. ‘This is where it all
the input into the conditions for the original bargain is fair, too. Here is where equality comes together’, they say.
comes in. There has to be equality of bargaining position for the market to be fair and,
note, this principle of equality seems to underlie the familiar requirements in the law
of contract of lack of monopoly, duress, misrepresentation and fraud.
The Pareto criterion is therefore different from the criterion of cost-benefit. That
criterion measures only in terms of wealth – something quite different from well-
being, or happiness – and it allows one, or even both, parties to emerge much
worse off. Cost-benefit analysis has its place as a useful tool for both individuals and
companies in the rational allocation of scarce resources. But it is altogether a different
matter to apply the analysis wholesale to a community, for people are then treated,
not as having their own individual points of view, but on the basis of the ‘average’
behaviour they exhibit in groups.
Acquaintance with this topic will allow you something concrete to anchor much of
the discussion about freedom and equality, since these two very abstract ideas are
integral to the key idea within the economic analysis of law – the market. Incidentally,
Posner these days tends to suggest that what he said ‘earlier’ could in large part be
‘discounted’ in favour of his ‘pragmatic’ approach. There are two things to say about
this. First, the originality and force of his seminal papers (see Chapters 1–4 of his The
economics of justice) stand on their own as of historical and intellectual importance.
Many people followed, and still follow, what he said there. Right or wrong, it is
undeniably powerful and so it is worth studying.
Once you have grasped what each side of the debate is saying, you need to look at
some practical examples of how economic analysis can be put into practice. It is
clear that proponents of either side of the debate do not differ on the question of
whether economic thinking in general is relevant to legal reasoning – thinkers on both
sides clearly do think that economic thinking is relevant. They differ, instead, on the
character of the economic reasoning employed. Posner and his followers are out-and-
out utilitarians, whereas Fried, Dworkin and others think that utilitarian accounts of
judicial reasoning misunderstand the central role that our rights as individuals play in
legal argument. This subject is, too, an extremely useful way of preparing yourself for
the contemporary debates concerning utilitarianism, and how utilitarian demands can
conflict with at least some ‘fundamental’ rights.
Analysing the economists

You may like to consider the following questions:
uu What do economists mean when they talk of the ideal market?
uu Is Fried right to say that the idea of a person is presupposed in market

calculations?
uu Is Posner’s theory anything other than utilitarianism ‘with all its warts’? (Dworkin).
uu Compare the Pareto criterion with the Kaldor–Hicks criterion. What are the
similarities and the dissimilarities?
uu Which one is more – to use the economists’ phrase – ‘ethically attractive’?
Activity 14.2
From your reading:
a. Explain the Pareto criterion
b. Explain the Coase theorem
c. Compare these with the Kaldor–Hicks criterion.
Summing up the Chicago School

Combine Coase with Kaldor–Hicks, add the requirement that judges act to make the
most efficient decisions, and you have Richard Posner’s theory of judicial reasoning.
Summary
The Chicago School analyses law in terms of its cost-effectiveness, measured by the
Kaldor–Hicks criterion rather than the Pareto criterion. Because the criterion of a good
judicial decision is that it maximises economic efficiency, it is a form of utilitarianism,
and so arguments about rights are relevant to criticising it. One useful line of criticism
is that rights seem to enter the line of judicial reasoning before the measurement of
outcomes. That is, if legal rights are only allocated to individuals when the outcomes
are known, what sense can be given to the rights implied in a contract (say) since such
rights must be determinable independently of whether the contract is efficient or not.

uu explain modern utilitarianism
uu outline your attitude towards the idea of liberty
uu describe Lord Devlin’s, Hart’s and Mill’s views on liberty
uu discuss the idea that the criminal law should be used to enforce morality
uu comment on the nature of moral disagreement
uu comment on the importance of moral equality
uu discuss critically the economic analysis of law.

Question 1 Are the values of equality and freedom opposed to utilitarian values?
Question 2 Does utilitarianism provide solutions that we could adopt when we are
considering what, morally, to do?
Question 3 What difficulties, if any, are there in the idea that people should act to
increase the happiness of the greatest number of people?
Question 4 Are there justifications for the state enforcing conventional morality
through (a) the criminal law or (b) the civil law?
Question 5 Discuss critically Posner’s theory of adjudication by way of wealth
maximisation.

Question 1 The success in answering this sort of question lies in showing that you
have adopted a stance towards utilitarianism. If you have a view about whether
utilitarianism is right or wrong, then using the ‘tramp’ example that I give above
should guide you to the positions that the question is asking you to evaluate. Do you
treat the tramp as an equal (whatever that means) when you inject him without his
consent? Note the relationship between consent and freedom, too.
Question 2 This is pleasingly straightforward on the surface (in a sense, it is obvious

that utilitarianism provides solutions that we could adopt), but it is really asking you
whether you think that the sorts of solution that utilitarianism commends are ones
that commend themselves to you. Again, the question is trying to elicit your views
about the doctrine. An excellent way to answer the question would be to consider
whether you should suppress your feelings about the consequences of some act (the
killing of the tramp, for example) and try not to be ‘squeamish’ as Williams says. This
raises the question of the relationship between a theory of what morally we ought to
do (utilitarianism is one such theory) and our intuitive reactions to what that theory
proposes we do.
Question 3 This is straightforward, and requires you to engage in a critical account of

utilitarianism. Again, the expression of your own view is crucial.
Question 4 This requires a discussion of Mill’s principle, and the Hart–Devlin debate,
which is reasonably straightforward. However, it requires some independent thinking
about the civil law (because, of course, the context of the Hart–Devlin debate was a
criminal law concerning homosexual activity). But there is no great difficulty here
(although I suspect many candidates would shy away from this question because
of this aspect). It just means a bit of independent thought. What is the difference
between the criminal and the civil law? One could argue that provided, say, enough
people disliked an activity then it would be possible to outlaw non-conventional
conduct through legislation. But it would not follow that the only way to outlaw the
conduct would be through the criminal law. For example, homosexuals would not
be fined, or put in prison, but homosexual partners could be denied the rights of
married people, or prevented from applying for certain types of jobs. Would this sort
of approach be any more acceptable than outlawing homosexual conduct by means of
the criminal law? It is difficult to see how.
Question 5 ‘Discuss critically’ does not mean criticise. Rather, it means ‘weigh up
the pros and cons’ of the theory. And so you could answer this question very well by
considering the arguments against Posner’s theory of wealth maximisation and then
answering them one by one. The best criticism of the Posnerian theory is in Dworkin’s
article in A matter of principle entitled ‘Is Wealth a Value?’ It is difficult and long, but
there is sufficient criticism in the first few pages for you to see the general line he
takes, which is that ‘wealth maximisation’ is just another name for utilitarianism and,
as Dworkin says, ‘all its warts’.
Reflect and review



I can explain modern utilitarianism.   
I can outline my attitude towards the idea of liberty.   
I can describe Lord Devlin’s, Hart’s and Mill’s views on

liberty.   
I can discuss the idea that the criminal law should be

used to enforce morality.   
I can comment on the nature of moral disagreement.   
I can comment on the importance of moral equality.   
I can discuss critically the economic analysis of law.   
revise?
Must Revision
revise done
14.1 Utilitarianism  
14.2 Criticisms of utilitarianism  
14.3 Liberalism: liberty and equality  
14.4 Disagreements about morality: can they be resolved

rationally?  
14.5 Equality  
14.6 The economic analysis of law  

Notes
15 Feminist legal theory
Contents
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 214
15.1 Deconstruction and reconstruction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 216
15.2 A brief history of feminist legal theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 221
15.3 Feminist views of the state . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 222
15.4 The future of feminist legal theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 225

Introduction
Feminist theory has made a vibrant and controversial entry into academic writing in
the field of law. The scholarship in this area† has developed into a large body of †
Feminist scholarship is a
literature which can defy organisation in its wide-ranging scope and complexity. discursive practice operating
Feminist theorising in legal scholarship draws widely from feminist theory in other to resist and subvert the
disciplines – literature, semiotics, sociology, political science and history to name a commonplace assumptions
few. It intersects extensively with other types of critical theory, most notably that of of the ‘common sense’ ideas
critical race theory, and gay and lesbian legal studies. of women’s roles which are
taken as the products of
A note by way of caution: feminism has been described as a movement with many dominant masculine culture.
projects; there is not just one feminist view on everything, so not just one feminist Moreover, feminism is a form
legal theory. However, arguably feminist legal scholars have certain similar concerns. of praxis. Feminist writers
For example, they: acknowledge the necessary
connection between
uu show how law defines what is male/female/masculine and feminine, reinforcing
being a woman, writing
the position of men and women in society to men’s advantage
as a woman, and existing
uu analyse how the differences between women and men should or should not be continually inside oppressive
reflected in legal rules, institutions and structures masculine practices, but
they assert the right to
uu place the lives of real women at the centre of their scholarship
develop specifically critical
uu often stress ideals of women’s self-determination and freedom: for women to be perspectives in the name of
treated as fully human. This draws upon themes of liberalism and we can ask if this affirming and changing for
is this a critique of liberalism or a better realisation of liberalism. the better the position of
women (and by implication
uu are usually eager to bring change and transformation to society, including the legal coming to a deeper
system, to improve people’s lives. appreciation of the nature
of ‘humanity’). The very
Domination, emancipation and the meaning of humanity are central ideas. Feminism
term feminist jurisprudence
involves a project of redefining the relationship between the individual and society.
may be a misnomer, for if
There is certainly a great diversity of scholarship with, however, several identifiable
jurisprudence is conceived
common themes.
as inherently structured
according to masculine
Learning outcomes
forms, the writing which goes
By the end of this chapter and the relevant readings you should be able to: under the banner of feminist
uu identify central themes in feminist jurisprudence jurisprudence is a critique
written ‘elsewhere’ than
uu discuss the work of several key scholars
traditional jurisprudence.
uu give an account of the history of theorising in this area
uu apply feminist scholarship to certain key examples of legal practice.
Essential reading
There is a large range of feminist literature and several collections of essays
which focus upon particular aspects of contemporary legal structure. Much of the
literature originated in the USA or Western Europe. We do not, of course, wish to
confine you to those sources alone, as the issues must be of global concern.
¢¢ Jackson, E. and Lacey, N. ‘Introducing feminist legal theory’, Chapter 16 of Penner
et al.
¢¢ Of the textbooks expected to be available, see the readings in the sixth edition
of Lloyd’s introduction to jurisprudence, Chapter 13, ‘Feminist Jurisprudence’.
¢¢ Make sure you have studied at least two writers in depth. Katherine T. Bartlett
(Feminist legal methods) and Catherine MacKinnion (Towards a feminist theory of
the state) are popular choices.
¢¢ Morrison, Chapter 17: ‘Understanding feminist jurisprudence’.
¢¢ Davies, M. Asking the law question. (Sydney: Lawbook Co., 2002) second edition
[ISBN 0455218110] Chapter 6: ‘Feminisms’.
Jurisprudence and legal theory 15 Feminist legal theory page 215
As reflecting an excellent commentary on the intersection of liberalism and social

justice for women, see:
¢¢ Nussbaum, M. C. Sex and social justice. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999)
[ISBN 0195112105] in particular Chapter 1: ‘Women and cultural universal’ and
Chapter 2: ‘The feminist critique of liberalism’.
For a book-length introduction see:

¢¢ Barnett, H. Introduction to feminist jurisprudence. (London: Cavendish, 1998)
[ISBN 1859412378].
¢¢ Barnett, H. Sourcebook on feminist jurisprudence. (London: Cavendish, 1997)

[ISBN 1859411134]. This is both a source book and commentary upon the current
debates within feminist legal theory.
Further reading
¢¢ Davies, M. ‘Unity and diversity in feminist legal theory’ (2007) 2(4) Philosophy
Compass 650–64.
Margaret Davies offers a useful overview of strands and debates in feminist legal
theory.
¢¢ Davies, M. and V.E. Munro The Ashgate research companion to feminist legal theory.
(Farnham: Ashgate, 2013) [ISBN 9781409418597].
The editors’ introduction in this volume is a brief but useful account of the state of
play in feminist legal theory.
¢¢ Davies, M. in Davies and Munro (as above) at Chapter 4 provides interesting

recent analysis of current debates.
¢¢ Hunter, R. in the same volume at Chapter 1 maps important debates between

feminist critiques and liberal legalism.
¢¢ Nussbaum, M. ‘On hearing women’s voices: a reply to Susan Okin’ (2004) 32

Philosophy & Public Affairs 193.
This article replies to an article by Okin in an economics journal (Feminist Economics,

2003) and it is not necessary to read the original article (if indeed you could get hold
of it) as Nussbaum provides a good summary. Susan Moller Okin and Martha Nussbaum
are among the most distinguished feminists writing with theoretical rigour in recent
years.
¢¢ MacKinnon, C. Are women human? and other international dialogues. (Harvard

This book collects a number of McKinnon’s more recent writings, particularly on

women and human rights. A very important essay for the student of debates within
feminist theory is Chapter 5, ‘Postmodernism and human rights’ in which she argues
that postmodernism is in fact ‘pre-feminist’; prior to the feminist critique, reality was
accepted to be the world as theorised by men; feminism punctured the ‘objectivity’ of
the male point of view, but postmodernism endangers that success by re-elevating the
standpoint of theory over the reality of the oppressed.
¢¢ Fine, C. Delusions of gender: the real science behind sex differences. (London: Icon
Books, 2011) [ISBN 978184832203].
Those interested in relating feminist legal theory to broader themes in feminist writing
should read this book which explores many of the supposedly ‘scientific’ findings of
innate gender differences.
¢¢ Sorial, S. ‘Habermas, feminism, and law: beyond equality and difference?’ (2011)
24 Ratio Juris 25
is a very accessible discussion of Habermas’s model of deliberative procedures in

law and whether they provide for legitimate public decision-making from a feminist
perspective.
The question is frequently raised whether feminist legal theory can really make any
practical difference. The feminist judgments project, which is underway in a number
of countries around the world, aims at (to quote the leaders of the English project):
Rather than simply critiquing existing judgments, the participants have put ‘theory into
practice’ by engaging in a practical, ‘real world’ exercise of judgment-writing, subject
to the same constraints that bind appellate judges. In doing so, they have pioneered a
new form of critical socio-legal scholarship, which seeks to demonstrate in a sustained
and disciplined way how judgments could have been written and cases could have been
decided differently. (www.kent.ac.uk/law/fjp/)
15.1 Deconstruction and reconstruction
15.1.1 Some feminist issues with law

The wave of feminism that developed in the 1960s and 1970s was concerned, among
other things, to demolish what many writing within this ‘wave’ saw as the myths of
universality in concepts of political and legal theory. This involved analysing the ‘classic
works’ of the European past and demonstrating their patriarchal character (one may
argue that this work also needs to be done for the non-Western past as well). This was
of course often a negative or deconstructive process, and many have felt that it would
be a harder task to reconstruct concepts in political and legal theory in a new way that
was relevant not only to the freedom and inclusion of women, but that also forwarded
emancipation and equality for all. Concepts such as power, freedom, authority,
privacy, democracy and citizenship are to be rethought and feminist writers brought
in concepts not traditionally part of the liberal canon of political and legal theory – for
example, care. But a lasting question may be: ‘is a post-patriarchal society conceptually
imaginable and practically feasible?’ Some tactics in the writing include the following:
Tactic 1 Highlighting women’s injuries and actual harm

Although a centre of focus has been on the prevalence of rape and the treatment
of rape victims, rape is not viewed as an isolated phenomenon but as the most
prominent example of activities which maintain women in a subjugated position and
which have been largely overlooked by the legal system. As West (1987) puts it:
Just as women’s work is not recognized or compensated by the market culture, women’s
injuries are often not recognized or compensated as injuries by the legal culture. The
dismissal of women’s gender-specific suffering comes in various forms, but the outcome is
always the same: women’s suffering for one reason or another is outside the scope of legal
redress. Thus, women’s distinctive gender-specific injuries are now or have in the recent
past been variously dismissed as trivial (sexual harassment on the street); consensual
(sexual harassment on the job); humorous (non-violent marital rape); participatory,
subconsciously wanted, or self-induced (father/daughter incest); natural or biological,
and therefore inevitable (childbirth); sporadic, and conceptually continuous with
gender neutral pain (rape, viewed as a crime or violence); deserved or private (domestic
violence); non-existent (pornography); incomprehensible (unpleasant and unwanted
consensual sex) or legally predetermined (marital rape, in states with the marital
exemption). (p. 118)
Rape and sexual violence (which we must note can extend to boys and men as well
as girls and women) bring ‘bodies, boundaries, violence and power in devastating
combinations’ (Pettman, 1996, p. 101). Moreover, we must question the relationship
between ‘private and localised violences’ and the violence invoked in the name of the
state, community or nation.
Tactic 2 A critique of the epistemology of jurisprudence and the relationship of

jurisprudence to the wider philosophical themes of Western society.
The assertion is that within traditional jurisprudence some writers claimed the
title of objective science for generalisations which actually have been assertions
from the masculine mode of thought. Some feminist scholars claim that such
prevailing positions are not actually ‘objective’ but only limited and biased; hence
any perspectives arrived at are only partial. Instead all scholars must recognise the
embeddedness of their own assumptions within a specific historical context. The
following extract from Bottomley is illustrative:
By drawing on other disciplines we are now asking if not only the practice of law silences
women’s aspirations and needs, and conversely privileges those of men, but whether the
very construction not only of the legal discourse, but representations of the discourse
in the academy (the construction of our understanding and knowledge of law), is the
product of patriarchal relations at the root of our society. (in Brophy and Smart (eds), 1987,
p. 12)
All forms of dualism are questioned by feminism, since women have generally been
the lesser regarded ‘other’ within sets of dualistically defined relationships. In general,
Western philosophy is seen as constructed out of sets of binary oppositions (including
public|private; reason|emotion; light|darkness; and male|female), one side of which is
privileged over the other. Thus women have been seen as the irrational, the emotional
and the unreliable, and confined to the private sphere of the family while the male –
the rational – enters the world of politics and law (see Olsen, 1990).
Tactic 3 ‘Asking the woman question’, which is tied up with the critique of
‘abstract masculinity’ as the organising force of social thought.† †
As O’Brien (1981) p. 5 puts
it: ‘What women need to do,
This argument holds that the ideals of Western rationality, notably the rule of law but
to put it in the simplest way,
including scientific thought, distort and leave partial our understanding of nature and
is to be able to demonstrate
social relations. These ideals devalue contextual modes of thought and emotional
that male domination and
components of reason. The issues that have dominated the task of governing and the male-stream thought
deciding upon new legislation have been issues that have most concerned men; the that buttresses and justifies
potentiality for an alternative woman’s perspective has been systematically ignored. it are both, in some sense,
Thus we find it argued that modernity has privileged male thought on ethics as prejudiced by the very fact
that they are masculine.
superior morally to feminine modes of understanding.
One way of doing this, or at
Carol Gilligan (1982), for example, as to which see 15.3.2 below, takes aim at Kohlberg’s least starting to do it, is to
theory of stages of moral reasoning (which had portrayed an increasing scale of consider male philosophy
complexity of ethical rationality with the peak being a contractual norm where justice as an ideology of male
is an obligation to contract which requires impartiality in administering the law and supremacy.’
the rights of individuals to equal treatment under the law). In Kohlberg’s scheme
the cognitive basis of moral reasoning is a developing ability to take elements out of
concrete situations and the particular acts of persons, to abstract from experienced
context so as to create formal qualities, especially reciprocity, and to develop impartial
and universal criteria.
Gilligan argues from her empirical research that women and girls never reach the
highest level of Kohlberg’s categories but display a ‘relational bias’ focusing on
interpersonal recognition; therefore women will always appear irrational. Conversely,
Gilligan argues that this ‘ethic of care’ perspective views morality around the poles of
selfishness versus responsibility, compassion versus autonomy, and defines adulthood
in terms of nurture and care rather than strict adherence to principle.
The claim is that maleness is the organising form of what is accepted as the ‘normal’
and that most forms of equality legislation are not vehicles for a true equality between
men and women but rely upon making women ‘as men’. Throughout society the male
is the central reference point; as MacKinnon (1987, p. 14) puts it: ‘The promise that
qualified women can have access to whatever men as a gender have access to, is the
promise of liberal equality’. But MacKinnon asks:
Why does maleness provide an original entitlement, not questioned on the basis of its
gender, so that it is women – women who want to make a case of unequal treatment in
a world men have made in their image – who have to show in effect that they are men in
every relevant respect, unfortunately mistaken for women on the basis of an accident of
birth? (ibid., p. 37)
Tactic 4 Listening to ‘voices’ which have been excluded from the meta-narratives
of modernity, specifically those of women but also those of ethnic minorities.
This silence on women ‘projects the female as the place of patriarchy’s Other,
identified with the dark and discredited side of every polarity, as body to mind, nature
to culture, night to day... madness to reason’ (Connor, 1989, p. 229). This approach is
clear in the form of much of feminist writing, which deliberately seeks to escape the
traditional forms of clear, logical writing in the name of being true to real experience.
The writing of black American law professor Patricia J. Williams, for example, uses
reflections on personal experiences as the focus for exposing general themes. As she
explains her writing:
I am interested in the way in which legal language flattens and confines in absolutes the
complexity of meaning inherent in any given problem; I am trying to challenge the usual
limits of commercial discourse by using an intentionally double-voiced and relational,
rather than a traditionally black-letter, vocabulary. For example, I am a commercial lawyer
as well as a teacher of contract and property law. I am also black and female, a status
that one of my former employers described as being ‘at oxymoronic odds’ with that of
a commercial lawyer... On the one hand my writing has been staked out as the exclusive
property of constitutional law, contract, African-American history, feminist jurisprudence,
political science, and rhetoric. At the same time, my work has been described as a
‘sophisticated frontal assault’ on laissez-faire’s most sacred sanctums, as ‘new-age
performance art’, and as ‘anecdotal individualism’. In other words, to speak as black,
female, and commercial lawyer has rendered me simultaneously universal, trendy, and
marginal. (Williams, 1991, pp.6–7).
Tactic 5 A critique of essentialist, functional categories and dichotomies (public/

private, mothering/fathering functions, reproduction, biology/culture, fixed
gender identities and so on).
This line posits a multiplicity of subject positions, not just the ‘unitary notions of
woman, or female gender identity, treating gender as one relevant strand among
others, attending also to class, race, ethnicity, age and sexual orientation’ (Fraser and
Nicholson, 1988, p. 391).
Activity 15.1
Understanding the idea of subject position.
The following extract comes from the beginning of a book written by the black
feminist law professor, Patricia J. Williams (1991). Read it and then answer these
questions:
a. What is ‘subject position’ and why does Patricia Williams appear to consider it
fundamental in her analysis of the law?
b. What difficulties can you see in following through the logic of ‘subject position’
or ‘stand-point theory’?
Diary of a law professor

Since subject position is everything in my analysis of the law, you deserve to know
that it’s a bad morning. I am very depressed. It always takes a while to sort out
what’s wrong, but it usually starts with some kind of perfectly irrational thought
such as: I hate being a lawyer. This particular morning I’m sitting up in bed reading
about redhibitory vices. A redhibitory vice is a defect in merchandise which, if
existing at the time of purchase, gives rise to a claim allowing the buyer to return
the thing and get back part or all of the purchase price. The case I’m reading is an
1835 decision from Louisiana, involving the redhibitory vice of craziness.
The plaintiff alleged that he purchased of the defendant a slave named Kate, for
which he paid $500, and two or three days after it was discovered the slave was
crazy, and ran away, and that the vices were known to the defendant …It was
contended [by the seller] that Kate was not crazy but only stupid, and stupidity is
not madness; but on the contrary, an apparent defect, against which the defendant
did not warrant …The code had declared that a sale may be avoided on account of
any vice or defect, which renders the thing either absolutely useless, or its use so
inconvenient and imperfect, that it must be supposed the buyer would not have
purchased with a knowledge of the vice. We are satisfied that the slave in question
was wholly, and perhaps worse than, useless.
As I said, this is the sort of morning when I hate being a lawyer, a teacher, and just
about everything else in my life. It’s all I can do to feed the cats. I let my hair stream
wildly and the eyes roll back in my head.
So you should know that this is one of those mornings when I refuse to compose
myself properly; you should know you are dealing with someone who is writing this
in an old terry bathrobe with little fringes of blue and white tassels dangling from
the hem, trying to decide if she is stupid or crazy.
In her text Williams continues to weave together personal narrative and commentary
on social reality. She tells of images from the television she turns on for inspiration;
images which inform her that ‘conditions are bad, very bad, all over the world …’.
Williams seeks to upset the feeling that a major American economist John Kenneth
Galbraith (1992) has called the ‘culture of contentment’, whereby those who are in
the superclass – mostly those in work who share in the increase in prosperity of the
Western economy – close their eyes to the suffering of the exploited and construct
intellectual systems to avoid feeling socially responsible.
Her attack is also on what critical legal scholars call reification (the ability of the legal
system – as we see with the story of the Zong† – to only consider social issues when †
See Chapter 12 for an
they have been turned into objects of legal discourse and fitted into the concepts account of the trials relating
allowed by legal doctrine). to the slaveship Zong.
What sort of process is it when courts can talk of a person only in the language of
‘redhibitory vices’? How does this discussion of a woman, Kate, boil down to whether
or not the buyer can get his money back – which in turn depends on whether the court
finds her stupid or crazy? Williams plays on this, asking us to ponder if Williams herself
is either stupid or crazy for getting upset.
Activity 15.2
What is meant by raising the woman question and consciousness raising?
15.1.2 Critiquing a pivotal event: the French Revolution

Many writers hold out the French Revolution of 1789 as the crucial expression of
modern liberal rights and law. Compared with 200 years ago, we are told, our position
is dramatically better and our freedoms today are a product of the changes which
have created modern society. Important writers, such as Anthony Giddens, claim that
to understand our contemporary position we have to see it:
…in the context of changes that have created the modern world. We live in an age
of massive social transformation. In the space of only something like two centuries a
sweeping set of social changes, which have hastened rather than lessened their pace
today, have occurred. These changes, emanating originally from western Europe, are now
global in their impact. They have all but totally dissolved the forms of social organisation
in which humankind had lived for thousands of years of its previous history. Their core
is to be found in what some described as the ‘two great revolutions’ of eighteenth and
nineteenth-century Europe. The first is the French Revolution of 1789 – both a specific
set of events and a symbol of political transformations in our era. For the 1789 revolution
was quite different from rebellions of previous times. Peasants had sometimes rebelled
against their feudal masters, for example, but generally in an attempt to remove specific
individuals from power, or to secure reductions in prices or taxes. In the French Revolution
(to which we can bracket, with some reservations, the anti-colonial revolution in North
America in 1776) for the first time in history there took place the overall dissolution of
a social order by a movement guided by purely secular ideals – universal liberty and
equality. (Giddens, 1984, p. 4)
Anthony Arblaster joins in this labelling of the importance of the French Revolution,
seeing it as the ‘moment’ that ensured that the ideals of Liberalism became part of
modern social realities.
The American and French Revolutions transformed the historical power and prospects
of liberalism. Without the French Revolution the liberal and radical ideals of the
Enlightenment would have remained essentially ideas, circulating among the progressive
intelligentsia, but without any substantial influence on political life...
Within a few short years the French Revolution translated liberal ideas of liberal equality
and individual rights into political realities, and it showed how such a transformation
could take place – through popular revolution based among the great masses of those
who had always been politically excluded. It was the French Revolution which made the
freedom of nations and the freedom of individuals into real and central issues in the
politics not only of Europe, but of a wider world. And it was the French Revolution which
ensured that political democracy also became a major issue. (Arblaster, 1984, p. 204)
The French Revolution displays all the ambiguities of the recourse to knowledge of the
natural condition of humans in that while we view it as an expression of the natural
rights of mankind and the sanctity of the individual, the position of women was very
different. This can be seen in a number of key positions taken by the revolution.
Creation of divorce laws

The law of 20 September 1792 (one of the last acts of the Legislative Assembly) gave
mothers equal rights with fathers in control over children after divorce; in marriage,
however, the mother’s rights were still subordinate to the father’s. Divorce followed
from the declaration that marriage was a civil contract and therefore could be broken
in particular situations. With the government of Napoleon Bonaparte came a reaction:
under the Napoleonic civil code ‘the wife is obligated to live with the husband and
follow him everywhere’ (Article 214, quoted in Desanti, 1992). Any advances made in
the revolution were reversed after the restoration of the monarchy in 1815 but the
revolution became the model for divorce movements. For example, the nineteenth-
century French feminist, Flora Tristan (1803–44), through her writings takes the
revolution as an unfinished project which she saw as the duty of thinking people of
the nineteenth century to take further. She recounts a journey she made to Peru, a
voyage of self-discovery and desire to rebuild the ideals of the revolution. Her writing
recounts the stark reality of slavery, the slave trade of blacks and the condition of
women slaves. In one section she relates seeing two black women condemned to
death for infanticide and feeling the gaze of one of them which ‘seemed to say to me:
“I let my child die because I knew he would not be free like you; I preferred him dead
to enslaved”.’ (Quoted in Desanti, 1992, p. 279)
Changing the inheritance laws

The equality of the parties under the divorce law reflected the notions of contract
and the emphasis on the equality of individuals under contracts led the legislators to
equalise inheritance for boys and girls.
Avoidance of granting equal status of women in political affairs

Under the revolution, women could not vote or hold any office. Many of the republican
leaders insisted that women’s nature made them unsuitable for public affairs. Thus – it
was claimed – nature insisted that women’s role was in the home: women were the
possessors of virtue and must instil this in the children. Men and women were simply
different by nature: men were stronger and women bear children; as a consequence
men have a political life to lead and women must fulfil the private virtues. If women
were to become involved in the exercise of political rights, the rationality of debates
would not be understood by them; instead their emotions would be inflamed and
chaos would result (see Sewell, 1988). The Marquis de Sade (whose name subsequently
has been taken as the champion of pornography and sadism) turns this argument
on its head by insisting that nature determines that women are completely sexual
creatures whose sexuality should be available for all men (see Hunt, 1992). According
to de Sade, the equal rights of men ensure that a woman should be the property of no
one man but available for all. De Sade’s work shows how many of the thoughts of the
revolutionaries and their use of nature could give rise to other conclusions. Perhaps
one impact of the French Revolution was that it brought out many of the deepest
fears about woman and the fate of the family when religion and the old order were
broken down. Thus women had to be controlled since they represented the stability
of the family; ultimately the public sphere could be the area of liberal rights but
women were suited for the home and the strength of the family relied upon male rule.
The patriarchy (which is not talked about in the liberal thought which Giddens and
Arblaster – two men – identify) which pre-existed the revolution exists long after it. To
feminists the continuing strength of patriarchy allows the freedoms of the public area
to grow in a distorted way. The feminists Joan Scott and Carol Pateman have argued
that the feminist project cannot be fulfilled in terms of liberal political theory and
that in the French Revolution an early form of feminist thought was ‘posed in critical
opposition to liberal political theory’ which has set the terms of political discussion.
For Lynn Hunt the very concept of political life meant rational, public and universal,
and women were defined as naturally subject, irrational, emotional, interested in the
particular and hence outside of politics (Hunt, 1992, p. 202).
Activity 15.3
What does consciousness raising mean? Take the above example – it concerned
the reviewing of a famous historical event, usually seen as fundamental to modern
freedoms. Instead of being a wonderful achievement for human emancipation and
a icon for liberty it contained gender divisions and a refashioning of hierarchies, not
equality. Consciousness raising and asking the women question require you to look
behind the grand promises of progress and ask how women are really benefiting
from these measures.
Feedback: This is not a matter for precise feedback but rather a matter of doing.
Summary
A great deal of social life is divided along gender lines. Feminism calls this into
question and feminist jurisprudence rigorously analyses the role of law in supporting
the gender division and hierarchy. Feminist theories of patriarchy challenge the nature
of power expressed in the private and public division of labour and social activities.
Feminist praxis strives for change for women, at the local, national and global level.
15.2 A brief history of feminist legal theory

Enlightenment feminists, like Mary Wollstonecraft, writing at the time of the French
Revolution, asserted that women, like men, possessed the innate capacity for
reason. Such feminists argued that women’s capacity for rational thought had been
suppressed by their upbringing, since they were forced into a frivolous, ‘girly’ type
of socialisation process, either being discouraged from developing, or at least not
encouraged to develop, their intellectual faculties, and provided with an inadequate
education. Women had then been prevented from engaging in public life, through an
emphasis on supposed ‘womanly’ private domestic responsibilities, and been denied
the opportunities to engage in political processes. Such a situation was lamentable,
said enlightenment feminists, but was hopeful because it could be changed by a
different socialisation of the two sexes – effectively providing both boys and girls/
men and women with similar upbringing/conditions/opportunities. The rhetoric of
liberalism (of equality, freedom, the rights of man) and particularly J. S. Mill’s work
specifically discusses the unfairness of the subjection of women, and could be used by
feminists to argue for women’s rights.
Mid-nineteenth to early twentieth-century suffragettes – who aimed for the vote and
to give rights to women – are sometimes seen as the first wave of feminism. Women
gained the vote and obtained much formal equality before the law – that is, if men
have certain rights and can do certain things, women should be able to as well.
Women should be equally protected by the law and the law should apply to all – men
and women – equally by giving them equal treatment.
The modern (1960s and onwards) women’s liberation movement, often known as
the second wave of feminism, emerged out of the civil rights and often more radical
movements in the 1960s seeking freedom and equality for women particularly in areas
of employed work outside the home, reproductive rights and freedom over their own
bodies and sexuality. Many of these activists were female lawyers or legally trained,
and many lawyers developed feminism’s general view of treating women as equals or
allowing women to be free, into the legal world – in universities and in legal practice.
A variety of legal scholars working in different areas with diverse perspectives and
concerns began to focus on feminist issues or on how the law impacted on the lives of
women; how it relates to women; whether it in fact treats men and women as equals.
Lacey (1994) suggests that the first feminist movement was a Liberalist concern
arguing for equality which sought to have the same status and protections given to
women as males enjoyed under the law. However, this encountered the problem of
the male standard and the second period was one of asserting difference, or trying to
get the law to treat men and women as equal, but different. This risked returning to
the arguments of natural subordination, hence a third period is more reflective and
constantly asks the woman question. It seeks to fully understand the role of gender
in constituting legal and social relations, and conversely, the role of legal relations in
constituting gender.
15.3 Feminist views of the state

We will look briefly at four influential views: the liberal, the Marxist, the radical
feminist and the poststructuralist or postmodernist.
15.3.1 The liberal view

The principal aim of the liberal view of law is to uphold the rule of law: that is, that
all people are equal before the law: the law is seen as neutral and impartial amongst
persons. It is irrelevant what sex or gender you are (also what colour, ethnicity, etc.).
The aim of much early second wave legal feminism was to show how women were
not treated equally. Like Wollstonecraft’s, these arguments stress that girls or women
should be given the same rights to education and opportunities as boys/men. The
use of law is therefore a potentially vital tool – to show how law is not living up to its
own standards of justice and fairness and equality for over half of the population by
failing to give women equal rights; and then to use law, through interpretation or
new legislation, to reform existing law. Using this approach, sometimes called the
‘sameness’ approach (i.e. treat men and women the same), it was better to view
gender or sex differences as legally irrelevant – give women the same rights and
entitlements as men; give women equal treatment; dispense justice even-handedly;
try to live up to the ideal of neutrality between persons.
However, as this approach was analysed, cracks appeared: many saw it as women
having to become like men – becoming equal meant movement in a one-way
direction towards the male standard, trying to live up to public standards and systems
and laws already created by men for men.
Such an approach was criticised for removing or continuing to prevent the inclusion
of the ‘feminine’ from the law (except for stereotypes of womanly images in the law).
Was it reinforcing existing biases against women’s experiences? Wouldn’t it always be
more difficult for women to live up to the standards if they were standards made in
the male image? And anyway, how could this approach help in areas where men either
can’t or usually don’t feature – e.g. pregnancy, abortion, sexual violence?
Criticisms of the ‘sameness’ approach came from various places – in particular from
ethic of care or cultural feminist legal theories and radical legal feminists.
15.3.2 The ethic of care

This approach argues that there are genuine, somehow relevant, differences between
men and women, which should be celebrated. Women have their own moral
perceptions which are either more valid, or at least as valid, as men’s.
Much of this work comes from a development of the work of Carol Gilligan (a
psychologist), who identified two distinct moral codes that correspond to gender
when she carried out research on various groups of girls/boys/men/women. Her
work provides counter-arguments to previous research by Lawrence Kohlberg, who
identified five stages of moral development with impartial thought being the highest.
His research appears to show that women never got higher than stage 3. On the basis
of her new findings, Gilligan then argues in her book In a Different Voice (1982) for a re-
evaluation of the feminine.
The two moral codes or voices are:
1. Feminine mode based on caring – the maintenance of relationships, a web of

communications and networks; concern for the particular needs of others in
their particular contexts. This is the ethic of care. Gilligan (1982, p. 23) argued that
women placed greater emphasis on context and the concrete effects of their
decisions on other people:
The elusive mystery of women’s development lies in the recognition of the continuing
importance of attachment in the human life cycle. Women’s part in man’s cycle is to
protect this recognition while the developmental litany [that is the doctrine whereby
higher modes of moral reasoning entail greater abstraction – ed.] intones the celebration of
separation, autonomy, individuation and natural rights.
†
b. Masculine mode:† objective, impartial, impersonal, unemotional, thinking of Thus traditionally
obligations, justice, rights and rules. That is, the generally idealised form of the philosophers have created
legal and political system. This is the ethic of justice. As Gilligan summarises it a body–mind distinction. As
(1982, 19–20) Kohlberg’s developmental psychology rests on a concept of justice the contemporary European
rooted in a ‘rights conception of morality’, which ‘is geared to arriving at an theorist Jurgen Habermas
objectively fair or just resolution to moral dilemmas upon which all rational (1982, p. 221) states: ‘reason
persons could agree’. …has no body, cannot suffer,
and also arouses no passion’.
But what are the consequences? In Critique, Norm and Utopia, Seyla Benhabib (1986, p. The reasoning subject then, is
342) writes: somehow disembodied and
individuated.
This results in a corresponding inability to treat human needs, desires, and emotions in
any other way than by abstracting away from them and by condemning them to silence …
Institutional justice is thus seen as representing a higher stage of moral development than †
As Adrienne Rich (1977)
interpersonal responsibility, care, love, and solidarity; the respect for rights and duties is argues in response to her
regarded as prior to care and concern about another’s needs: moral obligation precedes reading of the mind body
moral affect; the mind, we may summarize, is the sovereign of the body, and reason, the distinction that has relegated
judge of inner nature. womens’ reasoning to
the status of the naturally
Instead of the ethic of care being repressed and undervalued, it was argued that it
irrational: ‘Female biology –
ought to be heard together with the male voice which is historically dominant. The
the diffuse, intense sensuality
feminine voice is just as rational and potentially public in scope, it is not just for use in
radiating out from clitoris,
the home, etc. breasts, uterus, vagina; the
Many queried Gilligan’s findings – how could a small sample be translated into a world lunar cycles of menstruation;
view of the way men and women think? Even if accurate on that front, some are more the gestation and fruition
concerned as to why women may care more than men and why they appear to value of life which can take place
relationships more. Is it because of the different socialisation processes in boys and in the female body – has far
more radical implications
girls; is it for psychological reasons relating to identification with your primary carer in
than we have yet come to
early life – usually the mother – i.e. do girls gain their identify by a connection of
appreciate …We must touch
similarity with their mothers while boys gain their identity as a separation or
the unity and resonance of
difference from their mothers? Or is it because of women’s biology – are women
our physicality, our bond
somehow more connected to other life because of their reproductive capacity?†
with the natural order, the
In legal feminism this is an uncommon stance to take but Robin West’s work (1987) corporeal ground of our
illustrates it well, arguing that women crave intimacy, and connection with others, intelligence’. (p. 21)
rather than the separation and autonomy that are one of the main values in liberal
legal theory. As such, women are severely disadvantaged by liberal legal jurisprudence
and a feminist jurisprudence needs to be developed. West has argued that women are
not individuals first because they are not separate from other individuals. Instead they
are connected to other human life, and she specifies particular recurrent experiences
in women’s lives when this happens. The additional recommended reading for this
chapter provides further insights on this.
15.3.3 Radical feminism

Some feminists have argued in a very different way that women may care more than
men because that image or construction of women suits men or patriarchy (i.e. the
system of male oppression of women) better. In legal feminism, the main advocate of
this view is Catharine MacKinnon, who says that such differences between men and
women are hierarchically socially constructed to best suit men and to keep women
oppressed. She has famously compared feminism with Marxism in that sexuality in its
relation to feminism is analogous to the relations between work and Marxism – i.e.
that which is most one’s own, is that most taken away (‘alienated’) by the social
construction of a false identity. The gender system itself is a power system, unequally
structured to suit men. Law’s supposed neutrality only reinforces this inequality.
However, law can be used as a tool to empower women to change both their
circumstances and the legal system itself. A lot of MacKinnon’s work looks at
†
pornography, which she sees as exploitative and degrading of women.† For example MacKinnon
argues that in the USA almost
MacKinnon dislikes the sameness and difference approaches as she believes that 50 per cent of all women are
both try to make women live up to standards set by men. Affirming difference means raped or are the victims of
affirming powerlessness. attempted rape sometime in
However, many saw MacKinnon’s theory as flawed as it presents women as passive their lives (MacKinnon, 1989,
p. 176). She states that notions
victims, actually created and positioned by men or the patriarchal structure. Indeed,
of ‘consent’ and ‘choice’ are
many feminists viewed both this approach and the ethic of care/cultural feminist or
invoked to conceal force and
difference approach as producing a common standard for all women – in the same
that the notion of consent is
way that feminists had originally criticised the common standard women had to
often invoked in rape trials
achieve for being a male standard, now it was criticised as producing one feminist
as a way of legitimating what
standard for women.
has in reality been an act of
force. For MacKinnon rape
15.3.4 Black and ethnic minority feminists is the defining paradigm
of sexuality, but force is
Some black and ethnic minority feminists criticised an over-emphasis of gender
pervasive in many areas of
classification rather at the expense of other social factors like race. They criticised
gender relations.
certain feminists for being blind to the diversity amongst women, including class,
geographical, cultural and racial differences, and for failing to show how these interact
with gender.
Since the 1980s there have appeared many publications looking to integrate issues
of race, ethnicity and nationality into feminist theory (e.g. Hooks, 1990). Looking to
de- or post-colonisation literature they have questioned whether Western thought,
including feminist thought, is able to engage in a critique of Western forms of
domination.
As Mariana Valverde puts it (1986, p. 198), Western-based notions of patriarchy have

obscured the ‘conflicts of interest between the women who pick coffee beans for fifty
cents a day in Brazil and the white American feminists who sips coffee as she writes
about women in general’.
Another perspective relates how the confinement of women in domestic

circumstances in the modern family overlooks the role of the racial ethnic domestic
help. As Glenn (1991, p. 193) tells it: a definition of womanhood exclusively in terms of
domesticity never applied to racial ethnic women …The maternal and reproductive
role of racial ethnic women were ignored in favour of their role as workers. The lack of
consideration for their domestic functions is poignantly revealed in the testimony of
black domestic …who were expected to leave their children and home cares behind
while devoting full time to the care of the white employer’s home and family.’
At the same time, the work of black American feminists in particular stresses the
importance again of asserting rights, of creating a sense of self-determination: often
when people are socially powerless, their freedom – starting with that in their own
heads and then the sharing of their views with others through story-telling – in itself
leads to a sense of empowerment.
15.3.5 Postmodern feminists

Postmodernists and cultural relativists have claimed that any attempt to find a
universal truth or standard of justice for women (or for anyone or anything else) was
going to fail – not only was it undesirable, because it could be seen as neocolonial or
evidence of some sort of new imperialism, it was also impossible to do. They argue
that any so-called ‘quest’ for a universal feminist jurisprudence is unattractive and
even potentially dangerous. If ‘women’ are somehow all the same, this is ‘totalising’.
If the message was that ‘woman’ has a socially constructed false consciousness with
a real essence that is to be uncovered somewhere within her, this fixes identities
and is potentially reactionary. So postmodernist feminists criticise this so-called
‘essentialism’ that they see in much feminist work.
This development has in turn been criticised for weakening feminist politics because
feminism as a political movement depends on notions of women’s inequality/
oppression requiring some type of unified notion of what woman as an identity means.
It also poses problems for any radical political theory which might try to suggest
certain ways of life or being are better than others. If each claim to truth is valid, who is
to say which is better? This potentially disintegrates into nihilistic relativism.
Summary
Feminism contributes to an analysis of human agency and the human condition in
which emphasis is placed on how human actors seek to come to terms with their
immediate circumstances and problems, the way in which the legal order and social
structure circumscribe their possibilities for action, and denote their identities, and
how in turn social identity is reproduced by the resulting activity. Central to feminist
tactics is deconstructing the discourses of male common sense and attempting
to create a new ‘language of possibility’. Here feminists grapple with the tensions
between the particular and the universal, the concrete and the abstract. Each of
these dualisms forms a different basis for making claims in different periods of the
history of feminism. We can see universalism in the movement from the suffragists
to contemporary liberal feminism, which stresses the extension of general rights to
women; while another movement, that particularly expressed in cultural feminism,
claimed a unique and particular subject-position for women. Others seek to integrate
other axes of subject-formation, such as class, race, ethnicity and sexual orientation.
15.4 The future of feminist legal theory

Within Western feminism, very recent work has argued for a return to progressive
political programmes – as feminism has always been about pointing out injustices,
the wrongness of the violation or exploitation of women. This is particularly important
in the human rights field and at an international level. Human rights law rests on the
notion that all individuals – regardless of where they live, their sex, gender or colour
or race, etc. – are equally entitled to rights simply because they are human. It has
been argued that violations of men’s human rights better fit the model of human
rights violations which have been based on male experiences of what a violation is.
So the more feminised victims become, the less likely it is that international human
rights will be found to be violated. But women need to be sure that their rights not
to be violated are upheld – including not being sold or deceived into slavery or being
treated as sex objects; to have economic security and a voice in public life; to have
control over their own bodies. Viewed in this way, feminism is part and parcel of
human rights discourse; women should be treated as equals.
It seems that the liberal emphasis on rights, freedom and equality is again being
revisited by many feminists. There is a recognition that there is still a need, or now
even more than ever, for change, transforming links between theory and practice and
at least some type of universal truth – perhaps at the most mundane or common level,
a global acceptance that treating women as less human than men is wrong. This may
of course be of benefit to men also!

uu identify central themes in feminist jurisprudence
uu discuss the work of several key scholars
uu give an account of the history of theorising in this area
uu apply feminist scholarship to certain key examples of legal practice.

Question 1 ‘Feminist scholars cannot escape from the dominant masculine
assumptions they purport to reject.’ Discuss.
Question 2 ‘Traditional jurisprudence has been the thoughts of men reflecting on a
legal system built by men for men, it is only the ideology of the masculine.’
Does this claim have any validity?
Question 3 Does the law systematically discriminate against women?
Question 4 ‘Women are different from men, but the extent to which such
differences have legal relevance is not always clear.’ (Giorgio Monti)
Are there general arguments to support the notion that a feminist legal theory is
possible?
Advice on answering question 1

Of course there is plenty of material to assert: yes, they can! However, a really good
answer may take us in part into criticisms of feminist schemes; for example, the claim
that feminist writings are often caught in a reflexive circle. In other words, in offering
critiques of the truth of the existing state of affairs, what guarantee of ‘truth’ can
they offer? Take MacKinnon. Given that she defines our present situation and modes
of thought as inescapably imbued with masculine domination, how can her analysis
escape the grip of this domination and actually create unbiased or true new ideals?
Drucilla Cornell (1991) identifies this as the problem of false consciousness in the
writing of MacKinnon:
For MacKinnon, what women desire now under patriarchy is by definition false
consciousness. So we think that we want love and intimacy? For MacKinnon, we only think
that way because that’s how they want and need us to think so that we will continue to
be available to them. Women’s expressed desire is only an ideology... Because we think we
want love and intimacy, we put up with ‘them’ in a way we would not otherwise. We learn
to accept our gender identity as the one who gets fucked because that is what we must
learn to desire in order to survive …no matter what I or any other woman says or writes
about the legitimacy, and indeed value, of love, we do so only to the degree that we are
deluded and, in spite of ourselves, complicit in our degradation. Once we are convinced
that in ‘reality’ we are just being fucked, we will cease to value what they supposedly
desire that we desire. (p. 133)
In this there is no way out, there is no level of the ‘other’ other than desires, thoughts,
modes of intellectual development which ‘they’, i.e. the structures of masculinity,
have allowed. Women are wrapped in the desire/power of men, their reality ‘silence’;
therefore, how can women, and MacKinnon, break from that silence?
Moreover, in the process of pointing out the partiality of modern social theories and
legal perspectives feminists have frequently employed generalising categories like
‘masculinity’ and ‘femininity’ in problematic ways. While demanding a situational
critique of previous theory, feminists often talk as if their own theory could escape
such a self-critique.
A reductionism in locating ‘the cause’ of women’s oppression, such as production,

sexuality, child rearing or language, is sometimes apparent. Susan Brownmiller, Susan
Griffin and Andrea Dworkin, for example, locate the biological roots of patriarchy
in man’s capacity to rape. Thus male power is ultimately reduced to coercion but
this reduction is at the expense of acknowledging complex cultural elements which
require more diverse forms of analysis.
While rejecting universalist forms the critique often becomes itself universalist: take
MacKinnon’s (1989) analysis of the ‘state’:
However autonomous of class the liberal state may appear, it is not autonomous of sex.
Male power is systemic. Coercive, legitimated and epistemic, it is the regime.
Additional examination questions

Question 5 What consequences for legal practice does a feminist jurisprudence
entail?
Question 6 Assess critically the contribution to legal thought of any two feminist
scholars.
Question 7 Discuss at least two contributions that you consider feminism has made
to jurisprudence.
Question 8 Is there such a subject as feminist jurisprudence, or is feminist
jurisprudence merely what feminist lawyers point out is illiberal in the law?
Further reading
¢¢ Arblaster, A. The rise and decline of western liberalism. (Oxford: Blackwell, 1984).
¢¢ Bartlett, K. T. and R. Kennedy (eds) Feminist legal theory: readings in law and
gender. (Boulder: Westview Press, 1991).
¢¢ Benhabib, S. Critique, norm and utopia. (New York: Columbia University Press,
1986).
¢¢ Brophy, J. and C. Smart Women-in-law: explorations in law, family and sexuality.

(London: Routledge, 1985).
¢¢ Cornell, D. Beyond accommodation: ethical feminism, sexual difference and utopian

possibility. (London: Routledge, 1991).
¢¢ Desanti, D. ‘Flora Tristan: rebel daughter of the revolution’ in Melzer, S. E. and

L. W. Rabine (eds) Rebel daughters: women and the French revolution. (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1992) p. 277.
¢¢ Fraser, N. and L. Nicholson ‘Social criticism without philosophy: an encounter

between feminism and postmodernism’, Communication, 10/3, 4, (1988) pp.345–94.
¢¢ Giddens, A. The constitution of society: outline of a theory of structuration.

(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984).
¢¢ Gilligan, C. In A different voice: psychological theory and women’s development.

(Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1982).
¢¢ Glenn, E. N. ‘Racial ethnic women’s labour: the intersection of race, gender, and
class oppression’ in R.L Blumberg (ed.) Gender, family and economy. (London:
Sage, 1991) pp.173–201.
¢¢ Graycar, R. (ed.) Dissenting opinions: feminist explorations in law and society.

(Sydney: Allen & Unwin, 1990).
¢¢ Habermas, J. ‘Reply to my critics’ in Thompson, J. and D. Held (eds) Habermas:

critical debates. (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1982).
¢¢ Hooks, Bell Yearning: race, gender and cultural politics. (Toronto: Between the
Lines, 1990).
¢¢ Hunt, L. The family romance of the French revolution. (London: Routledge, 1992)
Chapter 5: ‘Sade’s family politics’.
¢¢ James, S. and S. Palmer (eds) Visible women: essays on feminist legal theory and
political philosophy. (Oxford: Hart Publishing, 2002).
¢¢ Kohlberg, L. The philosophy of moral development. (San Francisco: HarperCollins,

1981).
¢¢ Lacey, N. ‘Feminist legal theory: beyond neutrality’, Current Legal Problems

(1994).
¢¢ MacKinnon, C. A. ‘Feminism, Marxism, method, and the state: towards feminist

jurisprudence’, Signs Vol. 7, no. 3 (1982), pp.515–44.
¢¢ MacKinnon, C. A. ‘Feminism, Marxism, Method, and the State: Towards Feminist

Jurisprudence’, Signs, Vol. 8, no. 2 (1983), pp.635–58.
¢¢ MacKinnon, C. A. Feminism unmodified: discourses on life and law. (Cambridge,

Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1987).
¢¢ MacKinnon, C. A. Toward a feminist theory of the state. (Cambridge Mass.: Harvard

¢¢ O’Brien, M. The politics of reproduction. (London: Routledge, 1981).
¢¢ Olsen, F. ‘The sex of law’ in Kairys, D. (ed.) The politics of law (New York, Random
House, 1990) second edition; also ‘Feminism and critical legal theory: an
American perspective’ (1990) 18 International Journal of the Sociology of Law.
¢¢ Pettman, J. J. Worlding women: feminist international politics. (London: Routledge,

1996).
¢¢ Rich, A. Of woman born: motherhood as experience and institution. (Toronto:

Bantam Books, 1977).
¢¢ Scales, A. C. ‘The emergence of feminist jurisprudence: an essay’, Yale Law

Journal, Vol. 95 (1986), pp.1373–1403.
¢¢ Sewell, W. ‘Activity, passivity, and the revolutionary concept of citizenship’ in

Lucas, C. (ed.) The French revolution and the creation of modern political culture.
(Oxford: Pergamon Press, 1988).
¢¢ Smart, C. Feminism and the power of law. (London: Routledge, 1989).
¢¢ Smart, C. ‘Feminist jurisprudence’ in Fitzpatrick, P. et al. (eds) Dangerous

supplements: resistance and renewal in jurisprudence. (London: Pluto Press, 1991).
¢¢ Valverde, M. Sex, power and pleasure. (Toronto: Women’s Press of Canada, 1986).
¢¢ West, R. ‘The difference in women’s hedonic lives: a phenomenological critique

of feminist legal theory’, Wisconsin Women’s Law Journal (1987).
¢¢ West, R. ‘Jurisprudence and gender’, University of Chicago Law Review, Vol. 55,
No. 1 (1988), pp.1–72.
¢¢ Williams, P. J. The alchemy of race and rights: diary of a law professor. (Cambridge,
Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1991).
Useful websites
uu www.eoc.org.uk
uu www.womensaid.org.uk
uu www.amnesty.org.uk
uu www.justice.org.uk
uu www.justiceforwomen.org.uk/
uu www.fawcettsociety.org.uk
uu www.cwasu.org
uu www.catwinternational.org
Reflect and review



I can identify central themes in feminist jurisprudence.   
I can discuss the work of several key scholars.   
I can give an account of the history of theorising in this

area.   
I can apply feminist scholarship to certain key examples

of legal practice.   
revise?
Must Revision
revise done
15.1 Deconstruction and reconstruction  
15.2 A brief history of feminist legal theory  
15.3 Feminist views of the state  
15.4 The future of feminist legal theory  

Notes
16 Critical legal studies
Contents
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232
16.1 Introduction: what is CLS? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 233
16.2 Law and the fundamental contradiction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 235
16.3 Law, politics and reification . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 237
16.4 American critical legal studies: success or failure? . . . . . . . . . . . 240
16.5 Postmodernity and critical legal studies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 240
16.6 African critical legal studies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 243

Introduction
This chapter provides an introduction to critical legal studies. This form of
jurisprudence has its origins in America, as a development of Legal Realism. It is
marked by a desire to present a critique of the law that draws on political and social
theory. We will see that the original ideas of American CLS scholars were developed
by being linked to the notion of postmodernism. This provided a reinvigoration, and
a re-orientation of CLS themes and ideas. Finally, we will see that South African legal
scholars are turning to the inheritance of CLS in order to provide a critique of the old
apartheid regime, and an understanding of law in the new South Africa.
Learning outcomes
uu outline the main features of American critical legal studies
uu demonstrate an understanding of postmodernist conceptions of law
uu explain how CLS thought has been adapted by South African scholars.
Essential reading
¢¢ Douzinas, C. and Gearey, A. Critical jurisprudence. (London: Hart).
¢¢ Freeman, Chapter 13: ‘Critical legal studies’.
¢¢ Morrison, Chapter 16: ‘Scepticism, suspicion and the critical legal studies
movement’.
Further reading
One of the perennial questions about critical legal studies is whether this intellectual
movement has had its day. In recent years, new interest has arisen in one of CLS’s
intellectual origins, that of legal realism. Those interested in pursuing this ‘realist
revival’ should look at:
¢¢ Leiter, B. Naturalizing jurisprudence: essays on American legal realism and

naturalism in legal philosophy. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007) [ISBN
9780199206490]
¢¢ Dagan, H. ‘The realist conception of law’ (2007) 57 University of Toronto Law

Journal 607.
For a powerful critique of Leiter’s realism, see
¢¢ Green, L. ‘Law and the causes of judicial decisions’, available online at: http://
papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1374608
Jurisprudence and legal theory 16 Critical legal studies page 233
16.1 Introduction: what is CLS?
16.1.1 Some perspectives

How can we think about the relationship of critical legal studies (CLS) to the other
jurisprudential traditions and approaches that we have examined?
Let’s examine the way that CLS relates to other jurisprudences. We might also ask
whether these understandings of CLS also tell us something about the distinctive
features of CLS thinking about the law. Here are some recent perspectives.
1. Cotterell (2003)† †
The references can be found
in the list at the end of this
CLS can be seen as radical sceptical realism – wholly rejecting traditional forms of legal
chapter.
doctrinal analysis as pointless and mystificatory.
2. Duxbury (2001)
For the proponent of critical legal studies, post realist jurisprudence has been
characterised by complacency and closure, by a belief that controversial legal questions –
regarding for example ...the meaning of the values embodied in the legal process …have
been answered satisfactorily and definitively.
3. Yale Law Journal (1984)
Those of us associated with Critical Legal Studies believe that law is not apolitical and
objective: Lawyers, judges, and scholars make highly controversial political choices, but
the ideology of legal reasoning to make our institutions appear natural and our rules
appear neutral. [The Yale Law Journal, Volume 94, No. 1, Nov 1984, 5].
4. Boyle (1992)
Much CLS [work] has the basic message, ‘things could be otherwise’.
Activity 16.1
To what distinctive features of CLS thought do these extracts draw our attention?
There are a number of issues that we should consider in a little more depth.
16.1.2 The origins of CLS

We also need to return to the issue of American Realism. We have said – and indeed
most textbooks present this argument – that CLS is a development of American
Legal Realism. Can we briefly sketch out the links between these two philosophies?
American Realism is difficult to define, but the term is usually seen as making
reference to certain ‘presuppositions’ about the nature of law that were immensely
influential in America throughout the 1930s and 1940s. These ideas can be traced
to the writings of various figures, of whom the most influential were perhaps Oliver
Wendell Holmes, Karl Llewellyn and Jerome Frank.
If there was a major theme in realism, it was a reaction against the tenets of formalism.
In jurisprudence formalism describes an approach that seeks to isolate and classify
law’s unique organising principles. For instance, formalism discovers first principles
in the resolution of a dispute between two private individuals, a plaintiff and a
defendant. Central concepts, such as harm, duty, right and causation, are the grammar
used to articulate this relationship as a fundamental point of reference that can
account for law at both a procedural and doctrinal level. Realism moves away from
the formalist approach to the autonomy and coherence of law. It seeks the insights of
sociology and psychology, to argue that understanding the law means looking at legal
processes within their social and behavioural context. We can relate this point back to
the idea of scepticism dealt with above. Realism is sceptical about a narrow normative
analysis of law. It would prefer to focus upon the law-maker, and to see judicial
legislation as a reality. Legal decisions are profoundly influenced by the preferences
and value choices of decision-makers. Extending this position would suggest that a
legal decision reflects a particular political decision, rather than the working out of a
coherent legal order. In Cotterrell’s summary:
law is a matter of people doing the jobs of government, resolving or containing disputes,
allocating benefits or detriments and channelling state power to achieve specific
purposes (p. 177)
CLS is a radical extension of these themes. Applying the sociological insights of realism
as a way of accounting for the emergence of CLS, it could be argued that one has to
remember that it came out of the social dislocations that America was experiencing in
the 1960s and 1970s:
For the early crits., contradiction and dissonance are not simply ideas, but routine
experiences. Authority has demonstrated in concrete, practical and unequivocal ways
that it cannot be trusted. And for this generation, there would be a lasting ambivalence
towards authority. Authority would be something to resist, renounce and, paradoxically,
to assume as well. (Schlag, 1999)
Schlag is pointing out that the themes that will mark CLS come out of a particular
historical experience. CLS scholars come from a generation that found themselves
protesting against the Vietnam War, informed by the social revolutions of the 1960s. In
nations that have not experienced this same cultural pattern, this experience is hard
to understand, but it can be associated with a challenge to traditional authorities,
and the coming into being of a sub-culture or a counter-culture that challenged the
dominant assumptions about the role of politics and ways of living. CLS as a form of
legal studies comes about because a generation of scholars who found themselves in
this milieu, turned their attention to the form of law, the way that law was taught, and
the way that law was theorised. They were asking the question: should law simply be
seen as a profession, or should it be placed back in touch with radical ideas about the
social world?
CLS has its origins in this American experience, but CLS cannot be reduced to this
context. This chapter will demonstrate that CLS can be thought of as a tradition that
develops out of America, and is invigorated by different ideas and by the need to think
about the law in different geographical and historical circumstances.
16.1.3 What is ‘critical’ about critical legal studies?

Perhaps the most important question that we need to answer in introducing CLS is
the meaning of the word ‘critical’. Most of the jurisprudences that we have examined
in this module guide ask critical questions of the law. For instance, the positivist
philosopher Jeremy Bentham argues that the there is a censorial or critical aspect to
positivist jurisprudence; he attacks William Blackstone for being too deferential to the
law and its organisation. If CLS is to be distinguished from these other philosophies, in
what sense is it critical? Arguably, it attempts to be critical in a radical sense. Radical
criticism attempts to identify deep-seated problems with law and the legal order. It
does not seek to argue that individual laws could be reformed or made more efficient:
rather it sees the law as profoundly flawed. Reform will not solve these problems. The
law itself is compromised.
During the course of this chapter, we will try and identify the deep-seated problems
that CLS identifies. But, for the moment, we need to think in more detail about the
critical nature of CLS.
Critical work is difficult to achieve. Indeed, CLS sets itself a difficult task. Critical work,
by definition, must maintain a sceptical distance from the idea that the justifications
of the system by its apologists are entirely adequate. However, the fate of the ‘critical’
or ‘external’ account may be simply irrelevance. Critique may simply be rejected as
too extreme; a failure to engage with the system’s own modus operandi. Critique has to
operate in a way in which the system can itself understand. At the same time, there is
the danger that if critique compromises its claims, it loses its edge; it becomes simply
another apologetic for the system’s ability to benignly reform itself.
Writers on CLS have made a distinction between the negative, critical or ‘trashing’
aspects of this kind of scholarship; and a transformative or utopian element. It is this
latter aspect which we were introduced to by extract (d) above. CLS scholars have
tended to look at law’s role in society, and argue that both law and society need to
be politically transformed. They have seen endemic social tensions that characterise
institutions as offering this potential for transformation. The extent to which this
endemic tension can be manipulated to disturb the assumptions and limits of the
context can be investigated. Institutions such as law create social hierarchies that
are difficult to change and appear resistant to any interpretations or activities that
might disrupt or redefine their modus operandi. There are prejudices and perspectives
inherent to institutions that impose limits on perceptions that would otherwise be
open to question. However, even entrenched contexts generate disputes that threaten
disruption, what Roberto Unger (1984) calls an ‘endless stream of petty conflicts that
may escalate at any moment into more fundamental context-threatening disputes.’
(p. 5) So, although a particular context could be powerful enough to mandate a
normative vision of the social world, it could never be said that it was unchallengeable.
Summary
We have focused so far on the origins and nature of CLS. We have seen that it develops
out of a school of jurisprudence called American Realism; effectively linking the
insights of realism to a left-leaning political critique. However, we have also suggested
that CLS is a tradition, and should not be seen as limited to this context. We have
tried to engage with the critical nature of CLS. The criticisms of the law provided by
CLS are profound. It is not so much a reformist approach to the law, as an attempt to
suggest that the very structure of law has not been accurately defined by conventional
jurisprudence.
16.2 Law and the fundamental contradiction
16.2.1 Kennedy and Blackstone

In this section we will look in more detail at the way in which CLS understood the
nature of the law. We will look at one of the key texts of CLS: Duncan Kennedy’s article
‘The structure of Blackstone’s Commentaries’ (1979).
Our first question: why does Kennedy choose to write about the eighteenth-century
text by William Blackstone, The Commentaries on the Laws of England? (1765–1769):
Blackstone …published his treatise in England between 1765 and 1769 and …is the only
systematic attempt that has been made to present a theory of the whole common law
system …it has had much (or more) influence on American legal thought as it has had on
British …Everything that I will have to say flows from …a premise about legal thinking …
the activity of categorising, analysing and explaining legal rules has a double motive. On
the one hand, it is an effort to discover the conditions of social justice. On the other, it is
an effort to deny the truth of our painfully contradictory feelings about the actual state of
relations between persons in our social world …[legal thinking is] an attempt to mystify
both dominators and dominated by convincing them of the ‘naturalness’, the ‘freedom’
and the ‘rationality’ of a condition of bondage. (pp.209–10; quotation modified).
Activity 16.2
a. Outline Duncan Kennedy’s reasons for studying William Blackstone.
b. What is Kennedy’s ‘premise’ that informs his study?

It would seem, then, that the notion of contradiction is essential to Kennedy’s
argument. Let’s study this in more detail.
Kennedy goes on to oppose the idea of the fundamental contradiction to Blackstone’s

concept of the coherence of common law. The fundamental contradiction describes
a fundamental flaw in society; a flaw that the law cannot overcome. Moreover, it
remains ‘hidden or disguised’ (p. 213) in legal thinking. We can consider this in more
detail. Kennedy argues that:
Most participants in American legal culture believe that the goal of individual freedom
is at the same time dependent on and incompatible with the communal coercive action
that is necessary to achieve it. Others are necessary if we are to become persons at all –
they provide us the stuff of our selves and protect us in crucial ways against destruction
…But at the same time that it forms and protects us, the universe of others threatens us
with annihilation …the [problem] is that the abolition of these illegitimate structures,
the fashioning of an unalienated collective existence, appears to imply such a massive
increase of collective control over our lives that it would defeat its purpose …(212 Buffalo
Law Review, 28 (1979) pp.209–21)
This describes the troubled nature of social life: ‘relations with others are both
necessary and incompatible with our freedom’. The contradiction, then, reflects deep-
seated conflicts about the organisation of social life; a tension between liberalism
and private ownership, with associated beliefs in a non-interventionist state, and
communitarianism, with its belief in collective ownership and more active state.
Locked in a struggle that cannot be solved, both positions circle around the same
problem. The altruist attack on liberalism has purchase to the extent that it prevents
the generation of concepts that can found a notion of rules that justify political
order; liberal criticisms of the collectivist tradition are also damaging, as they show
that fundamental problems about human nature and perception have not been
adequately resolved (Blackstone, 1774). This names a condition of thought; there can
be no stepping outside of the contradiction. Moreover, there can be no ‘balancing’
(Blackstone, 1775) of the rival claims in a way that conventional legal reasoning
describes.
Is there a way out of this dilemma? We can only proceed by action. We make
commitments, and pursue them. This takes us to the theory of judicial interpretation.
Activity 16.3
What is the ‘fundamental contradiction’?
16.2.2 The critical judge; CLS and legal reasoning

Lets try and follow Duncan Kennedy’s argument in a second important essay
(‘Freedom and constraint in adjudication: a critical phenomenology’ (Journal of Legal
Education, 1986, 36 pp.518–62). We will see that it builds on the arguments that we have
just been studying. Kennedy argues that the law can be manipulated by lawyers and
judges towards ends that they consider appropriate.
In this essay, Kennedy tries to show how an interventionist judge can use the law to
achieve political ends. The essay imagines a case where a bus company has applied to
a federal court to obtain an injunction against striking drivers who have staged a sit-in
protest at the company’s employing of non-unionised, strike-breaking labour. Duncan
Kennedy imagines that he is the judge; he wants to refuse the injunction because his
personal politics demands that he supports the workers’ cause. How does the law
appear, if we accept that the judge approaches it as a means to an end?
Resistance or opposition is the characteristic of the law when I anticipate it as a constraint

on how I want to come out …I am suggesting that one of the ways in which we experience
law …is as a medium in which one pursues a project, rather than as something that tells us
what we have to do. (p. 526)
The judge’s own personal politics makes him sympathetic to the union members. He is
aware, though, that the law is bent against union members in a case such as this. The
law thus appears as a kind of substance that must he worked and shaped in such a way
that the workers’ case can be successful. It is a question of an individual’s engagement
with the law; with how this person’s own prejudices illuminate a sense of restraint and
possibility.
Kennedy argues that the judge must ask a number of strategic questions about how
he is to achieve his desired end. It may be possible to refuse the injunction, but how
would that be perceived if there was an appeal? How would this aid the workers’
cause? If the judge thinks that these approaches will not resolve the case, the legal
issue itself can be reinterpreted. The case could be recast as a ‘First Amendment’ prior
restraint issue. Granting the injunction would be an illegitimate interference with the
rights of free speech of those protesting. Effectively, this would show that an operation
of the means of production could be limited in the interests of a more compelling
constitutional guarantee.
Activity 16.4
What conclusions could we draw about the nature of the law from Kennedy’s
argument?
Summary
In looking at the arguments of Duncan Kennedy, we have seen that his key notions are
the fundamental contradiction, and the idea that the law is not a neutral or coherent
set of principles. The activist judge can re-interpret the law in such a way as to achieve
the outcome of a case that he or she desires. This is, of course, somewhat different to
jurisprudences that would stress that there are ‘right answers’ in the law that reflect
the law’s founding principles or order. It would also be critical of the law’s neutrality.
The law appears as a means towards a political end. Kennedy’s suggestion is that if left-
leaning judges do not use the law to push forward their agenda, then their political
opponents will do so. This clearly connects back to certain realist themes about law as
a means of achieving policy, but here places it in an explicitly left-wing context.
16.3 Law, politics and reification

The CLS critique of legal reasoning does not only address itself to judicial reasoning
in cases. Other CLS writers are critical of the way in which legal reasoning abstracts
events from the real world, and turns them into legal problems to be solved by
lawyers.
Peter Gabel has argued that legal reasoning abstracts from the concrete social world.
What follows is a summary of his argument in ‘Reification in legal reasoning’ (Research
in Law and Sociology (1980) 3 pp.25–51.
16.3.1 The ideas of Peter Gabel

When the judge pronounces a judgment, he can be seen as performing the following
operation. Legal reasoning applies scientific reason to the social world: through
inductive reasoning individual situations are subsumed under a general, abstract rule.
For this process to work, diverse situations must be included under general rules so
that the law can be applied to them as examples of a legal wrong; this presupposes
certain cultural assumptions that allow situations to be appreciated as similar or
dissimilar in the first place. These contingent relations are then effectively seen as
examples of the rule, their dissimilarity neutralised. The world becomes ‘frozen’ in
its existing realities. These realities are then appreciated as what the world is. This
assertion covers up the sense of illegitimacy that people feel when they think about
the social and economic system. The law effectively denies that the world could
be otherwise; but precisely because the world is constructed, it can be made again
through conscious activity. We might call this condition one of the reification of the
social world. Theories of social construction tend to claim that the social world is not a
given, but that its meaning is constructed through various processes. This tends to be
linked to theories of ideology that stress that it is the ideas or interests of those with
economic and political power that determine the shape of the social world.
Activity 16.5
a. Can we link Gabel’s arguments to those of Duncan Kennedy?
b. What is reification?

Gabel’s work uses philosophy and psychological ideas to account for the hold of the
law over the social world.
Gabel argues that people continue to think and act within reified social relationships
because reification conceals a deeper and more troublesome void. This absence
of ‘connectedness’ is so profound that it would be traumatic to think it. Reification
thus operates as a ‘psychic gratification’ that holds back a deeper, more terrifying
absence. The social response is to imagine that social experience is one of ‘harmonious
co-existence’ under the protection of the law. The law gives a comforting sense of
community. Indeed, in a time when other socially powerful ideas of community
appear to be in crisis, law can give the sense that community can be articulated
and defended. However, this is an inauthentic notion of community. Law’s sense of
community is already reified. Group feeling re-presented through legal categories is
disconnected from any more fundamental emotional grounding.
What is the problem with the sense of community offered by the law?
Gabel argues that the law cannot provide a meaningful sense of community for
people. This builds on his arguments about reification. If law has become reified, then
people cannot relate to each other through legal terms like rights. Gabel seems to
be suggesting that there is a need for people to develop ‘authentic’ ways of being
together, that do not make use of the law.
These are strange ideas. Are CLS writers any more precise?
In a later piece, based on an exchange with Duncan Kennedy, both writers attempted
to be more precise. They came up with the term: ‘intersubjective zap’ (‘Roll over
Beethoven’, Stanford Law Review, 36:1 January 1984). This describes the intense moment
when people perceive that there is a possibility of their coming together. Clearly, ‘life’
exists not as a thought-out political doctrine, but as a provocation, a utopian urge for a
better world. What does this mean?
Life is essentially the space of self-creation linked to the energy of a counter

movement and the insistence that the world could be different. CLS revealed where
life could be found. In one notorious example, it was the time before the teacher came
into class; in another, the moment of authentic exchange between bank clerks when
management were not looking.
What can we make of this approach to the law? One criticism would be that it is no
good to simply criticise the law: it is necessary to come up with new ideas about how
society is organised. In the next section, we shall look at another scholar linked to the
CLS movement, Roberto Unger, and see that his criticisms of law have led to a concrete
idea of how a different form of law could be organised.
Activity 16.6
How does Gabel conceive of social life? What are the problems with his account?
16.3.2 Roberto Unger: law and politics

In this section we will examine Unger’s arguments in a long work entitled Politics;
subtitled ‘a work in constructive social theory’. We will focus on one of the books that
makes up this broader project: Passion (Unger, 1984).
In what way is Passion a work of social theory? How can we connect it to the themes
that we have studied above?
Passion can be read as an approach to one of the key themes in liberal legal, political
and social theory. It attempts to reverse the traditional privilege of liberal legal theory
on the importance of the individual, and endeavours to think in terms of solidarity.

Passion affirms that the self cannot be conceived as the centre of the world as it must
exist alongside others. Just as others can appear to overwhelm the self, the self can
make ‘disproportionate’ demands on the other. The tension between these two
imperatives is the central problematic of social life. This certainly seems to build on
Kennedy’s idea of the fundamental contradiction. Moreover, it links with Gabel’s ideas
about the need to develop un-reified forms of community. Individuals have to live in
circumstances of mutual trust. How can this be achieved?
This would take us to Unger’s reading of the law. He returns to an idea that he
developed in an earlier work: expanded doctrine. Expanded doctrine is a critique of
a formalism that proposes law as a coherent body of rules that are devoid of politics
(Unger, 1986). The critical legal studies movement argues that doctrine must become
enlarged to allow a more thorough linkage between law and politics. In Politics, it is
linked to a new idea: the notion of negative capability.
Negative capability needs to be carefully explained. It is drawn from the work of the
English poet John Keats. In reflecting on his poetry, Keats made a distinction between
sensation and thought. This has been interpreted as suggesting a division between
logic and the imagination. The most profound truths, ‘the holiness of the heart’s
affections’, can only be apprehended through a form of imaginative engagement.
What Keats calls ‘consequitive reasoning’ (Bates, 1939), the ability to identify, represent
and classify, can operate in some important senses. It can measure and describe the
world, it can establish mathematical relationships but it lacks the synthetic insight of
imagination. Only imagination can see into the heart of things. A further distinction
makes reasoning a passive way of ordering, and imagination an active, creative force.
Activity 16.7
What is negative capability, and how does it relate to Unger’s ideas about expanded
doctrine?
What changes in legal forms does Unger propose? Let’s look at transformed rights.
Transformed rights have to be distinguished from the limiting connection with the
protection of settled property relations. They can be conceptualised as immunity
rights, destabilisation rights and solidarity rights. Although these new rights would
not entirely replace property rights, they would contribute to the relocation of power
in the community and the disruption of monopolies. Destabilisation rights would
accompany immunity rights. The former would protect individuals or groups against
applications of governmental power and against any form of exclusion from public
decision-making. Immunity rights would also guarantee an adequate amount of
welfare protection. Destabilisation rights would be dedicated to the breaking down
of hierarchies of power. Alongside destabilisation rights, solidarity rights would ‘give
legal form to social relations of reliance and trust.’ This last group of rights covers a
wide field that includes all aspects of ‘inter-dependence’ and could be built up from
principles already existing in the law of fiduciary relations, the contractual doctrines
of reliance and the notion of good faith. Popular empowerment would also demand a
redistribution of resources. This could take the form of an appropriation of resources
by those excluded from the present commercial and financial sources of power. One
key proposal is a capital fund on which individuals and groups could make claims.
Activity 16.8
Outline Unger’s proposals for a new order of legal rights.
Summary
We have examined the way in which CLS scholars have approached issues of law and
politics. Although Gabel is critical of existing forms of social organisation, he does not
provide any detailed account of how social order is to be transformed. Unger shares
Gabel’s sense that society needs to be re-organised so as to give greater effect to the
ability of people to live together in conditions of equity and mutual trust. He presents
a notion of rights to show that there are concrete ways in which this vision could be
realised.
16.4 American critical legal studies: success or failure?

We need to weigh up CLS. But how can we do this? What criteria of success or failure
can we apply?
A famous article argued that there was a ‘question that killed critical legal studies’
(Fischl, 1992). The question is: what replaces the law? The sense of this was that if the
law was not swept away, then CLS did fail. However, this may be a misunderstanding.
CLS arguments could be interpreted as suggesting that lawyers need to practise law
differently, rather than that the law should be ‘swept away’.
The lawyer needs to be imagined as a kind of culture hero who is involved in struggle
as a means of changing both the intimate and public conditions of social existence.
To accept the vocation of the lawyer is not merely to enter a job. As Unger argues, the
lawyer ‘accepts the …ideal: you affirm your worth, in part, by attempting to change
some aspect of society and culture’. It may be that this can be linked to a real insight
into the nature of the law.
The legal text does not appear as a repository of immemorial truths, but as a site
in which ideological disputes can be fought out; the text itself carries ‘radically
inconsistent’ ideas that can be creatively worked at to elaborate accounts of human
association. Rather than CLS being classed as a failure, we could turn the argument
around. The failure lies with formalist interpretations of the law. Formalism cannot
explain how law is necessarily bound up with political dispute.
Another legacy of CLS may be that it makes for a broader, cultural study of law. As has
been pointed out, this perhaps misses the point: ‘the point of critical legal scholarship
is that the law is far better understood as a significant aspect of the complex interplay
between our culture and our structures of thought’. (Fischl, 1992, pp.779–829).
We now need to look at the way in which CLS themes were taken up by other scholars.
In other words, CLS is not just about American law!
Summary
It is hard to say whether CLS is a success or a failure, because the criteria to assess
success and failure are unclear. It is perhaps more useful to see CLS as part of an
ongoing philosophy of law.
†
16.5 Postmodernity and critical legal studies The British Critical Legal
Conference first met in 1984.
It would be wrong to associate CLS only with American scholarship: we need to look at Although not by any means
exclusively Marxist, there was
other developments of the tradition.
a sense in which Marx was
important. to their approach.
16.5.1 Postmodern jurisprudence There is a sizeable literature
CLS as practised and developed in Britain† bears a certain family resemblance to its generated by scholars directly
American cousin. However, British CLS defines itself against a jurisprudential or indirectly connected to
orthodoxy, and the American critical legal tradition. There was a first wave that was the conference; more latterly
primarily Marxist in its orientation. It did produce some vital texts. But reflection upon, it has also produced Bob
and anxiety towards, the critical tradition itself tended to become pronounced Fine’s Democracy and the rule
of law, Alan Norrie’s Crime,
somewhat later on. One could account for this in both the perceived historical failure
reason, history and others.
of the Marxism in the revolutions of 1989, and also in the chaos and insight wrought by
See also the Pluto Press series
the first reception of postmodernist thought. Although it was perhaps somewhat late
‘Dangerous Supplements’.
arriving in legal theory, as opposed to cultural or literary studies, the reception of
See Bankowski and Mungham,
postmodernism produced a flowering of critical thought. To get the best sense of the
Images of law, for an earlier
revision and revival of CLS themes, we will turn to postmodern jurisprudence.
text.
Jurisprudence goes postmodern in order to retain and redraw its old commitments to
plural and open forms of reason(s) and communities. (Douzinas et al., 1993)
What is postmodernism? This is a difficult question to answer, but as far as legal theory
is concerned, the sense of the quotation above is that postmodernism returns to old
ideas, and reinvents them. We can look at ideas of justice and rights:
The persistence of the gap between humanity and (legal) rights or between the utopian
moment in human rights and law indicates that their force and rebelliousness may be
related to a metaphysical or redemptive urge which lay dormant, but which has acquired
renewed significance in postmodernity. Following the end of the most atrocious century,
it is too late in history to return to the concepts of human nature and free will of classical
liberalism. The universalism of rights and the historicism of cultural relativism share
with Western philosophy and ethics a common characteristic: they reduce the distance
between self and other and return the different to the same. (Douzinas and Gearey, 2004)
The idea of rights must be rescued from their distortion and developed in a utopian
direction. Take, for example, the idea of the citizen. From the perspective of bourgeois
philosophy, the progress of the law is marked by the political community where
government is limited by the rights of the citizen. When this notion is attached to
some form of modified market liberalism, one has a crude description of the world
view that has presently achieved almost worldwide dominance. For those who are
uncomfortable with the real inequalities that exist alongside this supposed triumph
of political and economic reason, the notion of the rights of the citizen do not need to
be jettisoned completely. There is a need for a purgation of the idea, a purification of
what the term can mean. Rights are not necessarily to be co-opted into the protection
of profits in the new world order. Consider the right to work. That most international
covenants and treaties do not include, or fight shy of its inclusion, suggests that the
law can generate ideas that could potentially limit the extent of exploitation. But, this
is not the main point in terms of the redefinition of the idea of rights. As suggested
above, the language and ideology of rights are not closed; there is sufficient slippage
in the definitional terms for them to be put to work in different and more creative
ways. This needs to be linked back to some notion of human freedom; in other words,
‘freedom’ needs to carry a meaning that is not the one ascribed to it by conservative
ideologues.
Postmodern jurisprudence searches for a different foundation for human rights:
In the universal community of reason, which acts as the horizon for the realisation of
the law, the other — the alien, the third and unrepresentable — is turned into the same,
the critical distance between self and other is reduced and the experience of value of
moral conscience is grounded solely on the representation of the other by the knowing
and willing ego. The alternative is the other’s exclusion, banning or forgetting. But the
other who approaches me is singular and unique; she cannot be reduced to being solely
an instance of the universal concept of the ego, nor can she be subsumed as a case or
example under a general rule or norm. The law of modernity based on the self’s right and
the subject’s empire is strangely immoral as it tries to assimilate and exclude the other.
The other side of the universal legal subject, of equality and autonomy, of law’s formalism
and its imperative, is the necessary inequality and the lack of autonomy of the alien and
the enemy of nation. (Douzinas et al., 1993).
This extract can be read as a critique of a certain form of thinking, or ‘reason’, that has
characterised the tradition of Western law. This form of thinking always reduces the
other to the same. Whatever is alien, or seen as eccentric to reason, is not accepted as
such, but re-interpreted in the terms of reason. Thus, the human rights tradition tends
to accord people rights, or even legal status, on the basis that the rights holder is like
the traditional legal subject: in other words a rational, heterosexual property-owning
male. If one stands outside of this classification, then one is treated less favourably by
the law. This can be exemplified in many different ways. A couple of examples must
suffice. Consider, first of all, the relatively late date at which women received the
vote in Western nations. In legal doctrine, as well, women have been problematic.
In land law, for instance, a wife still has no real right to her husband’s property;
merely a personal claim against her husband. Other questions could be asked: does
the doctrine of provocation in criminal law really take into account the pattern of
domestic abuse that women suffer? Such a critique could also apply to the nebulous
place of refugees within Western law.
Activity 16.9
How does postmodern jurisprudence link together rights and justice?
So, postmodern jurisprudence is about redefining the themes and subject of legal
theory.
One of the great announcements that initiated the postmodern project was
announcement of the death of a kind of jurisprudence: there was no longer a need
to answer the great question ‘what is law?’. Not only had the traditional debate
stagnated into a ‘jaded pedagogy of theory’ (Languages of Law, 1) or bogged down into
a kind of armed peace between various warring jurisprudential factions, but, and more
importantly, these great questions represented the end point of a particular mode of
inquiry.
16.5.2 Goodrich and the question of rhetoric

In the work of Peter Goodrich, rhetoric is understood in the widest of senses. It is not
just an analysis of textual figures as a means to creating persuasive arguments.
Rhetoric is a conception of tradition as the perpetuation of certain ways of using
language. To define law as rhetoric in this way would be to re-affirm the various
histories of the legal institution. These traditions can be traced back to religious
mythologies. In this interpretation rhetoric is a hermeneutics that transmits the past
to the present. ‘Hermeneutics’ derives from the name of the Greek god Hermes, whose
task was to carry messages between the gods and the mortals. Rhetoric as
hermeneutics is the transmission of immemorial truths that define the community
that holds them dear. One can appreciate how this logic of meaning displays an
essential connection between methods of interpretation in both mythology and law.
Goodrich’s contention is that it also underlies Christian theology, and hence feeds into
the common law tradition. Modern legal interpretation can be seen as a secularisation
of sacred techniques. Thus, the truths of law enshrined in the casebooks and the
statutes are interpreted in a way that borrows directly from the Christian ways of
reading scripture.† Authority is associated with the past, and its record in authoritative †
Scripture = the Christian
texts. Rhetoric is thus a ‘defence of the faith’, an apologia for a truth that needs to be Bible.
preserved. The original meaning has to be recovered and preserved so that continuity
can be established between the past and the present. Authority is established through
the creation of a canon of texts. The texts themselves are carefully guarded, and
licensed ways of interpretation are devised so that commentaries are built up which
keep alive the essential meaning of authority. Although this form of rhetoric is central
to the institution of law, it does not exhaust the possibilities that rhetoric offers.
Rhetoric does not necessarily have to be connected to a recovery of the past, towards
a preservation of authorities. There is within the philosophy of rhetoric an approach
that celebrates the freedom of the interpreter. When the rhetorician speaks, she or he
does so in front of a particular audience with the particular objective of persuading
the hearers of the truth of the case that is being presented. Contrary to a philosophy of
interpretation that argues that meaning is always immanent to a text, preserved and
ready to pass on, rhetoric always deals with the contingent; with scenes of argument
and disputation. Its claims to truth are specific and context based. No single context
could determine all the claims that could be made of a particular text.
Like Gabel and Unger, Goodrich attempts to address the question of law as that which
provides a sense of belonging. We can usefully ask three questions of our own here:
1. What is rhetoric? Why is it useful for a study of law?
Goodrich’s early work presented forensic rhetorical practice as involving a use of

commonplaces (loci communes or topoi) that fit with audience expectation and
hence narrativise the legal fact pattern or argument being presented in terms
familiar to the audience.
2. How does Goodrich approach the question of history?
Legal doctrine is understood as the narrative of the social, telling stories of the
lineage of persons and the genealogy of groups. Building on the psychoanalytical
studies of the French legal historian Pierre Legendre, Goodrich (1995) traces
the structures of legal institutions, affective objects and identificatory images
in the narrative of legality or lawful sociality as such. This genealogical method
does not trace a coherent line of development from the past to the present.
Past contradictions are not resolved through the inexorable workings of history.
Genealogy interprets history as a series of accidents; the present is only one of a
number of radically contingent possibilities. Law as an institution is blind to the
possibilities that lie within it.
3. What relevance does psychoanalysis have for a study of law?
You may like to formulate your own ideas on this question.
Summary
We have seen that in turning to postmodernism, certain CLS themes have been
revisited and developed somewhat differently. In particular, we have seen that the
theory of rights and justice has been re-thought around the notion of the otherness;
ideas of history and rhetoric have also been deployed to understand how law creates
forms of language and a social world.
16.6 African critical legal studies

Critical legal studies has been taken up by South African scholars to look into both
law’s complicity with apartheid, and the possibility of creating a new legal order.
South African CLS is concerned with the question of how a new beginning is possible.
It confronts the exhaustion or intellectual bankruptcy of what had passed for the legal
philosophy of the old apartheid order. One of the most important topics has been the
Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC), and the issues of community that it raises.
Certain discourses have always sought to speak for the community. Law, in this sense,
has always been an account of the community under law through its articulation of
sovereignty. Of course, law or jurisprudential reflections on sovereignty are not the
exclusive articulations of community. One could equally find it in modernist sociology,
where the consensual or conflictual underpinnings of human community provide
an orientation to study. Likewise, political discourse seeks to talk of community in
terms of power and authority. Hobbes’ Leviathan, rethought in different ways in the
liberal tradition, Rousseau’s or even Mandela’s notion of the people, or other African
traditions, are variations on this essential theme.
Community cannot be thought on the basis of the inclusion into a collectivity that is
represented by a party or a president. Law needs to be de-link from sovereignty. Can
law be associated, instead, with sharing, a relationship of specifics that cannot be
turned into a generality?
Karin Van Marle (2000) has studied accounts of the South African Truth and
Reconciliation Commission, and asked questions about the nature of the ‘truth’ that
the Commission was trying to discover:
†
She is sitting behind a microphone, dressed in her beret or kopdoek and her Sunday best. See Karin Van Marle
Everybody recognises her. Truth has become Woman. Her voice distorted behind her ‘The literary imagination,
rough hand, her undermined Man as the source of truth. And yet nobody knows her. (Krog recollective imagination and
cited in Van Marle)† justice’, 2000 15 SAPR/ PL, 137.
She, the truth, sits behind the microphone: she addresses us from a long way off. A
great deal could be said about the conjunction between the voice, truth and memory,
but we will take as our essential problematic that of Van Marle’s: how is it possible to
talk about the TRC now, from our present? This is a generational question. It clearly
raises issues somewhat different from the need to respond to the TRC in the moments
of its operation. Any discourse about the TRC is problematic, as it can never respond
to the pain of those who spoke before the commission. Van Marle’s work prompts
us to see that the essential question is how it is possible to talk about the TRC, how
a notion of ‘public discourse’ or ‘public life’ can configure itself. The truth remains
fractured and complex: perhaps it is impossible to say that anyone – or any institution
– speaks the truth. The new South Africa must take this fractured and complex truth as
a ‘foundation’ for democracy; a way of holding together a plural community without
reducing it to a single law, a single voice or a single truth.
Van Marle’s work moves towards a notion of literature as the only form capable of
carrying both a respect, and a criticism of the TRC; but also a notion of the ongoing
nature of reconciliation, the very idea of a work in progress. Drawing on notions of
narrative as ‘patchwork’ or ‘jigsaw puzzle’, her concern is with a thinking process that
is not necessarily end-directed, that can compose and recompose pieces differently. Of
course, this is motivated: the need is to push forward the legacy of the TRC, but not to
this or that certain end. The key term is perhaps a thinking of openness, or in a slightly
different metaphor, an ability to think in terms of uncertainty and doubt.
Activity 16.10
Why have South African scholars turned to CLS?
The work of South African scholars shows that CLS continues to develop, and to
address the law in different jurisdictions and contexts.
Summary and conclusions

We might be able to offer some provisional conclusions about CLS as jurisprudence.
The injunction placed upon the critical legal interpreter is to find the spaces where
doctrine stumbles, where legal principles can become shaped to fit social realities,
rather than simply repeating a legal logic. This call to arms stressed the inseparability
of legal theory, legal practice and political vision. The ideology of professionalism can
too easily provide a smokescreen that obscures both difficult individual choices and
wider concerns about the role of law itself. The lawyer as technician, as supporter and
apologist of the status quo applying objective and determinate rules to the facts of
social disputes, can no longer be sustained.

uu outline the main features of American critical legal studies
uu demonstrate an understanding of postmodernist conceptions of law
uu explain how CLS thought has been adapted by South African scholars.
References
¢¢ Bates, W. J. Negative capability. (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press,
1939) p. 25.
¢¢ Boyle, J. D. A. Critical legal studies. (Aldershot: Dartmouth, 1992).
¢¢ Cotterrell, R. The politics of jurisprudence. (London: Butterworths, 2003) second

edition, p. 202.
¢¢ Douzinas, C., R. Warrington and S. McVeigh Postmodern jurisprudence: the law of

the text in the text of the law. (London: Routledge, 1993).
¢¢ Duxbury, N. Patterns of american jurisprudence. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1995) p.

424.
¢¢ Fischl, R. M. ‘The question that killed critical legal studies’ (1992) 17 Law and social
inquiry, pp.779–829.
¢¢ Goodrich, P. Oedipus lex: psychoanalysis, history, law. (Berkeley; London:

University of California Press, 1995).
¢¢ Kennedy, D. ‘The structure of Blackstone’s Commentaries’ (1979) The Buffalo Law

Review 28, 7.
¢¢ Schlag, P. ‘US CLS’, Law and Critique, Vol. 10 No. 3 1999, 201.
¢¢ Unger R. M. Passion. (New York: Free Press, 1984).
¢¢ Unger, R. M. The critical legal studies movement. (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard

University Press, 1986) p. 565.
Sample examination question

‘Although critical legal studies has its roots in American scholarship, it can be seen
as an evolving jurisprudential tradition.’ Discuss.
Advice on answering the question

This is a difficult question, because it demands that one thinks about such terms as
‘jurisprudence’ and ‘tradition’. Any answer should resist merely repeating notes or a
model answer.
The question splits into at least three concerns: to what extent is CLS a jurisprudence?;
to what extent does it have its roots in American scholarship?; and can we consider
CLS to be an evolving tradition?
To what extent is CLS a ‘jurisprudence’? It certainly is, in part, a philosophy of law;

but it seeks to connect legal studies with political thinking and political activism.
In this sense it remains to the margins of the jurisprudential mainstream, if this is
conceptualised as a form of disinterested attempt to define and categorise the law.
So, if we can accept that CLS is a political jurisprudence, how do we deal with the other
parts of the question?
It is true that CLS can be traced back to the work of the American realist scholars.
American CLS writers like Duncan Kennedy acknowledge their debt to these figures.
However, if one acknowledges that CLS represents a radical tradition of thought, to
what extent could it be comfortable with the idea of becoming a tradition? More
conservative modes of thought, that tend to stress the superiority of the past over
the present, are much more adapted to deploy the idea of a tradition. The work of the
present work is more or less acceptable to the extent that it repeats the truths that
have been articulated in the past. Radical thought must presumably resist the hold of
the past and of tradition. How is it possible to think about the social world in a creative
way if one must constantly repeat past ‘truths’?
To some extent, then, more recent manifestations of CLS have tended to depart from
American CLS. The turn towards postmodern jurisprudence and to theories of rhetoric
show to some extent how critical scholars are seeking inspiration from alternative
sources. These tend to be rooted in European philosophical work. In the case of African
CLS, though, this is rooted in a political context entirely different from that of Europe
or North America.
In this sense, then, perhaps CLS is evolving rather than necessarily looking back to
founding fathers as the source of immemorial insights. We could suggest that if CLS is a
tradition, it is uneasy with the way in which this might limit the ways in which it could
continue to develop as a radical account of the social and political world of the law.
Reflect and review



I can outline the main features of American critical legal

studies.   
I can demonstrate an understanding of postmodernist
conceptions of law.   
I can explain how CLS thought has been adapted by

South African scholars.   
revise?
Must Revision
revise done
16.1 Introduction: what is CLS?  
16.2 Law and the fundamental contradiction  
16.3 Law, politics and reification  
16.4 American critical legal studies: success or failure?  
16.5 Postmodernity and critical legal studies  
16.6 African critical legal studies  

17 Critical race theory
Contents
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 248
17.1 American critical race theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 249
17.2 Law and race discrimination . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 250
17.3 Race, racism and ideology . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 250
17.4 Critical race theory and British racism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 252
17.5 The official inquiries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 255
17.6 Critical race theory and postcolonialism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 257

Introduction
Critical race theory (CRT) grew up in America as a response to the failure of the
anti-discrimination laws to achieve any real sense of social advantage for the black
community. CRT emerges as an engagement with the civil liberties struggle and its
aftermath. However, CRT can also be seen as a way of thinking about the law that is
not limited to the American experience, and which addresses law’s involvement with
racism. This chapter brings together these two senses of CRT. We will go on to look at
the experiences of law and racism in post-war Britain suffered by citizens of the ‘new
Commonwealth’. The focus will be on those citizens who came to Britain from Africa
and the Caribbean. In a final section of the chapter we will look at postcolonialism, and
examine its links with CRT.
Learning outcomes
uu outline the American origins of critical race theory
uu give an overview of the civil liberties struggle in the United States
uu explain the notions of race and ideology
uu describe the basic elements of a critical race response to British law and racism
uu explain what is meant by a ‘postcolonial’ jurisprudence.
Essential reading
¢¢ Douzinas and Gearey, Critical jurisprudence. (Oxford: Hart Publishing, 2004).
¢¢ Freeman, Chapter 16: ‘Critical race theory’.

Jurisprudence and legal theory 17 Critical race theory page 249
17.1 American critical race theory
17.1.1 The historical perspective

One of the foremost American CRT scholars has written that the ‘black people’s
struggle’ is ‘as old as this nation’, making race and racism essential to the definition of
America as a nation. There are many possible perspectives on this claim, but we will
concentrate on the experience of African Americans and the issue of slavery. Indeed, it
would appear that the very recognition and perpetuation of slavery was a compromise
that allowed the foundation of American Constitutional government (Bell, 1995).
Repeatedly, from the drafting of the Independence Constitution in 1787 to include the
preservation of slavery, to the Hayes–Tilden Compromise† of 1877, the right to property †
The Hayes–Tilden
has been raised above that of black freedom. History teaches a lesson about the law: Compromise (also called the
‘blacks seem uniquely burdened with the obligation to repeat history, whether or not Compromise of 1877) was an
they learned its lessons’ (Bell, p. 7). From the end of the civil war until the present, a alleged deal struck between
pattern can be traced which shows that any black advance is effectively crushed by a Republican leaders and
white backlash, and the historic racism which means that black rights will always be Democrats of the House to
compromised to other economic or social interests. Thus, the experience of the ‘first get Republican Rutherford
reconstruction’, the time from the end of the American Civil War to 1877, is repeated in B. Hayes elected to the
the fate of the civil rights movement. In the former, formal equality is stated in law, but presidency. In return, Hayes
would end Reconstruction
the economic and social dispossession still suffered renders these legal rights
and end military rule in
symbolic.
the South, which had been
The litigation engaged in by the National Association for the Advancement of Colored instituted to help improve
People (NAACP) is accused of becoming too fixated with symbolic advances. At the position of the newly
root, the problem of discrimination is that of the inequitable distribution of social emancipated black slaves,
and economic power; rules only reflect ways in which these distributions can be following the Civil War of
preserved. One cannot ignore the ‘political base’ (Bell, 1995 p. 18). Bell’s view is that 1861–64. The end of military
insofar as a prompting can be taken from this history, to move forward we must rule in the South meant that
understand that America is inherently racist. Although litigation will not alter its there was no one to keep
ingrained structures, hope rests in the struggle itself: white racists in check. This
was a major defeat for black
We must realise, as our slave forebears did, that the struggle for freedom is, at bottom, a Americans and led to slow
manifestation of our humanity which survives and grows stronger through resistance to social reforms and increased
oppression. racism in the South that
would remain until the Civil
Not only does the failure of the civil liberties struggle reflect a weighting of history
Rights movement of the
against the cause, Bell says, but it rests upon a fundamental misunderstanding of the
1960s. Hayes was awarded the
nature of law. In the call for a ‘racial realism’, there is an alignment of the struggle
presidency by a majority of
with a need for a new thinking about law that repeats the gesture of the legal realists
one in the Electoral College.
against the jurisprudence of the old order.
Thus, just as the legal realists had shown that law could not be thought of as formal
rules and principles, but that the political preference of judges had immense
importance in the outcome of cases, there was no such thing as neutral principles.
Bell indicates how critical race theory could make use of such insights. Consider
Regents of the University of California v Bakke. The court had to decide on the legality
of an affirmative action programme that would allow black candidates to enter the
University of California’s medical school. Employing a very narrow definition of equality,
which ignored the social and economic causes of disadvantage, the court held that no
white students could be refused entrance to give preference to black candidates:
Bakke serves as an example of how formalists can use abstract concepts, such as equality,
to mask choices and value judgements. (Critical race theory, p. 304)
Activity 17.1
a. How does CRT come out of a historical experience?
b. Why are CRT scholars sceptical of the civil liberties movement?
c. How can a formalist approach to law obscure the social and economic factors
that lie behind discrimination?

17.2 Law and race discrimination

CRT poses a fundamental question. Can the law understand racial discrimination?
In one definition produced by a critical scholar, discrimination is ‘positional’.
What does this mean? Discrimination describes the inter-relating and structured
disadvantages in education, work, access to justice, housing and health care, and the
associated ‘withering’ of one’s self-image that accompanies such marginalisation and
exploitation. The law tends to be blind to such a reality. Litigating on a civil liberties
issue, say desegregation of schools, tends to re-create this problem in terms of an act
of violation of antidiscrimination principles that can be remedied; it ‘neutralises the
inappropriate conduct of the perpetrator.’
But is this sufficient?
Litigating civil liberties issues arguably atomises and individualises discrimination into
a series of disputes, and avoids the more structured sense in which discrimination
results from an inter-relation of disadvantage. Notions of causation and fault are, of
course, central to this conception. The effect of these notions is to remove any sense
of collective responsibility for discrimination. Would it be possible for the law to move
to an appreciation of the ‘positional’ nature of discrimination? There are problems.
Such a shift would be challenging not only to the legal construction of responsibility
as individual fault, but risks antagonising a majority who are reluctant or unwilling to
perceive their own complicity in discrimination. Given this problematic reality, anti-
discrimination law has attempted to find ways of breaking out of its ‘formal’ restraints,
while trying to display an adherence to the form of the law.
Activity 17.2
a. What are the problems associated with litigating discrimination issues?
b. Would it be possible for the law to move to an understanding of ‘positional’

nature of discrimination?
Summary
The roots of critical race theory lie in the experience of Afro-Americans in the USA,
from their original status as slaves, though emancipation and the disappointments
that followed it, and onto the civil rights struggles of the twentieth century. The
legacy of racism persists, and there are clear limitations in the law’s approach to
discrimination.

uu outline the American origins of critical race theory
uu give an overview of the civil liberties struggle in the United States.
17.3 Race, racism and ideology

CRT develops a theory of legal ideology as intrinsically linked to race. CRT borrows from
CLS when it describes anti-discrimination law itself as constructed on its own tensions,
but it also offers a critique of the theories of ideology that CLS scholars put forward.
This both builds on and redefines some earlier theories of legal ideology. Theories
of ideology are important, but the term must not be overburdened, or allowed
to become an interpretative key that, by unlocking everything, explains nothing.
Ideology describes a way in which the material conditions of life are perceived and
refracted. Ideologies reflect, but are not completely composed by, the dominant and
socially powerful beliefs, ideas, understandings and practices. It is helpful to think in
terms of ideological instances: different elements of society have different ideologies,
which interface and conflict with other ideological aspects. Thus, there is a sense in
which the law will interface with certain notions in, for example, economics, even if
at one level this is denied in the name of law’s autonomy by one school of thought,
or, to show the complexity of ideology, affirmed as a necessary linkage by another.
Ideologies are not, however, of a piece; they are internally fractured and riven.
This sense of tension and conflict was important to CLS accounts of legal ideology.
The work of Gabel and Kennedy takes as its starting point the notion that law is an
ideological distortion of the world. Ideas/practices of law have to be examined to
see how they interface with wider social, economic and political concerns. The basic
CLS ‘take’ was that legal reform can never transform a social order, because the law
is already implicated in the power structures that the reformers are attempting to
change. In the face of this challenge, CLS scholarship made use of a technique called
‘trashing’ that was meant to reveal the problems that lay under the surface of the law,
and could be shown to compromise its claims to universality and objectivity.
But, it is not as if the CLS approach can immediately be adopted by CRT scholars. The
central problem is that CLS accounts completely ignore the importance of race in
ideology. Ideology, as expressed through ‘race consciousness’ (‘Critical race theory’,
p. 112) impacts on black subordination, but also on ‘the white hierarchy and their
identity with elite interests’. Consider the frequent failure of anti-discrimination law
to achieve substantive change. One reason could conceivably be that the necessary
redistributions of wealth are prevented by a ‘white’ perception that ‘they’ would thus
lose out to black interests. There is, in other words, something that unites whites
across boundaries of class or gender, and that is race. Ideology, in this sense, operates
to create a ‘hegemony’ of interests. More broadly, this ‘other’ group helps to legitimise
the identity of the hegemonic group. For example, it is interesting that the trade
unions that were primarily composed of immigrant white workers, excluded black
workers as a means of displaying their compatibility with the mainstream of American
society. This process is ongoing, dynamic, and changes its arguments over time.
The removal of the more obvious aspects of discrimination does not mean that this
hegemony has been broken, and that discrimination will disappear. One example of
this is the way in which civil liberties advances are re-inscripted at a cultural level that
plays back into wider debates about policy and culture. The black failure to adapt to
the supposed ‘norms’ of white behaviour – hard work and discipline – had to be ‘made
up’ by the positive discrimination programmes and affirmative action. Any further
demands for ‘special treatment’ show the continued failure of the black community to
match up to social standards, and hence shows their inferiority and the partisan and
one-sided nature of antidiscrimination law.
The question remains: if anti-discrimination law is ideologically compromised, must

it be abandoned? Such an approach would lose sight of the ‘transformative potential’
that the law offers. There is a sense in which litigation and doctrinal development in
civil liberties law can make meaningful interventions in social institutions. It would
be hopelessly utopian to imagine that there was a way of proceeding that was not
somehow compromised. Besides, the very powerlessness that makes it necessary to
rely on anti-discrimination law means that it is not possible to stand aside from the
dominant discourse and produce an effective way of framing demands and taking
action. Ideologically, litigation showed that the state could not afford to be colour-
blind, that the rhetoric of racial neutrality hid and perpetuated discrimination. Quite
apart from the debate about the extent to which there have been changes in social
status, then, use of the law has served to de-legitimise discrimination at an ideological
level. Given ideological transformation, though, this struggle to de-legitimise is
ongoing and has to be fought at all the levels at which ideology operates – including
the jurisprudential. Whether or not one would accept that this jurisprudential struggle
is being won in the American scholarship, the question becomes in this chapter:
how must a critical race jurisprudence adapt itself to a different jurisdiction and a
different history of racism? Furthermore, if one accepts the globalisation thesis, then
a jurisprudence of resistance must be able to adapt itself to context, and to retain the
sense in which it is a form of international intellectual movement.
Activity 17.3
a. What is ideology? Why is a theory of ideology important to CRT?
b. Why is the law still important as a way of fighting discrimination?
Summary
This section has presented the relationship of critical race theory to critical
legal studies, and also examined the importance of a theory of ideology for an
understanding of race. CLS is sceptical that legal reform can ever transform a
social order, but the law does retain a ‘transformative’ potential; for example,
anti-discrimination laws, whatever their shortcoming, have served to de-legitimise
discrimination, and this process is continuing.
17.4 Critical race theory and British racism

British CRT scholars have also approached racism as a historical problem. We are
concerned here with the post-war situation. As Gilroy writes, the contemporary
perception of the problem was not so much ‘the volume of black settlement but
rather its character and effects, specifically the threat to legal institutions’ (Gilroy, 1995,
p. 86). Immigration is perceived as a sense of actual threat to English constitutional
values. This very perception of immigration as a threat, rather than an opportunity to
create a different history, a different institutional response, is the failure of English law
when faced with racism.
Law fails to create a legal notion of race, of what is shared in common by communities
of Britishness. Perhaps a more progressive operation of the law could have been, and
could still be, possible – one that makes use of a shared notion of the Commonwealth
citizen. Although this concept reflects the process of de-colonisation, by this very
token it also carries within it a history of the colonisation that created the Empire in
the first place. There can be, therefore, no sense in which the law comes with clean
hands to the problem of race.
17.4.1 Race, racism and British Law: a short history

In the post-war period, despite differences of political ideology, there has been a broad
consensus about ‘the need to stem immigration’. A useful starting point is the 1962
Commonwealth Immigrants Act, passed in the context of reducing immigration through
issuing employment vouchers. Underlying the Act was a notion of ‘belonging’ that was
defined as having a link with Britain either through being born in the country or having
a passport issued there. At a symbolic level, this perhaps indicates the withdrawal
from Empire and the Commonwealth that some commentators have seen as a factor
in immigration legislation (Holmes, 1988: the policy that lay behind the 1948 British
Nationality Act, which was rooted in a sense of ‘obligation’ towards Commonwealth
citizens, was being increasingly eclipsed by an emphasis on Britain’s role in Europe). The
1962 Act has been described as the ‘blueprint’ for a regime of racial control, although
there is also a sense in which it draws on earlier policy decisions (Solomos, 1993). While
the government was concerned about the social problems that resulted from coloured
immigrants settling in Britain, they were less concerned about white immigrants from
the ‘old dominions’ (Gilroy, p. 173). One of the failures of the Act was that it could not
allow this distinction to be made, other than through acts of overt discrimination:
Operating the 1962 …Act at these dual levels reinforced the differentiation of communities
of Britishness: the imperial, familial community consisting of white-skinned Britons
was privileged and protected from the letter of immigration law, while the political
community of Britishness consisting of black-skinned Britons was subjected to
increasingly tight regulation.
A change from a Conservative to a Labour government (in 1966) did not produce
any concrete shift in the direction of the law. The aim of the second Commonwealth
Immigrants Act 1968 (which followed the loss of a Labour Parliamentary seat to a man
who campaigned on an openly racist platform on the slogan ‘if you want a nigger
for a neighbour, vote Labour’) was to create an even tighter legal definition of British
nationality. At one point the Home Secretary’s proposals for increased powers for
immigration officers effectively redefined immigrant British subjects as aliens (a broader
perspective on this process is that the notions of alien and foreigner are predicated on
the entire history of the nation state) although these proposals did not move beyond
the White Paper. At the level at which these debates were conducted, in the press and in
Parliament, there was also the worrying continuation that turned both settled coloured
peoples and immigrants into suspect communities, whose presence was problematic
and troublesome for the majority. It is no wonder, therefore, that the passage of the
Race Relations Act in 1965, although in some ways a recognition of the problem of
discrimination, was severely hampered. It was very much dictated by the concerns of
the white majority, as opposed to a true intervention to help those who were the victims
of discrimination. The Race Relations Act will be considered in more depth presently,
but it would not be going too far at this point to suggest that the Act perpetuated the
idea of ‘communities’ of Britishness (see Gilroy, p. 176; for a more radical account of the
thinking behind the Act, which sees the state as acting on behalf of capitalists interests,
see Sivandan, 1982). This weighting towards separate, and not particularly equal, spheres
undercut any official commitment to ideas and practices of neutrality or integration. In
its most extreme form the discourse of the right-wing National Front or British National
Party can be seen as the logical extension of, rather than any great departure from, the
official government discourse on the need to police race.
The colonial background of the legislation is also starkly apparent in the background
to the 1968 Commonwealth Immigrants Act. One of the reasons for the passage
of the act was the need to restrict the entrance to the country of Kenyans of
Asian background. As the law stood, Commonwealth citizens who had a parent or
grandparent ‘born, adopted, registered or naturalised’ in the UK had an automatic
right of entrance. This group of people were facing discrimination in Kenya. They had
originally been assisted in moving to Kenya in by the British, to fulfil various functions
that the British believed Africans were incapable of. The British government failed to
recognise this history; rather, once again, it was subordinated to the demands of the
present, and a convenient forgetfulness. Later, in 1972, there was a similar ‘concern’,
albeit under a different legislative regime, with ‘Ugandan Asians’. It is suggested
that the reasons for allowing this group to enter the UK was not associated with any
language of rights or legal entitlements, but with necessity and the need to ‘bear’ a
historical ‘burden’ (Gilroy, p. 182).
This logic works itself through into the 1971 Immigration Act. Largely informed by
the ‘separate spheres’ concept of nationality, it gave legislative form to overtly
discriminatory practices that had long been in operation, by dividing British subjects
into ‘patrials’ and ‘non-patrials’, non-patrials being so deprived of rights of settlement
and to work as to be ‘virtually aliens’ (Gilroy, p. 181). Fryer (1984) states that this Act,
when it came into effect in 1973, ‘virtually ended all primary immigration’. As well as
increasing the power of immigration officers and the police to detain immigrants, it
came into force in a context of increasing violence against black communities. The
practical upshot of this definition also meant that patrials were almost completely
white. In effect this meant that the law created and sustained a distinction between
a biological notion of nationality, which was privileged, and a political notion, which
included mostly coloured peoples, that was denigrated. Despite the language of the
1976 Race Relations Act, and the developing case law, then, the operative terms of the
law were racist in the most crude of senses. Reflecting continuing public concerns with
the ‘swamping’ of the nation, the 1981 British Nationality Act provides a further attempt
to classify and control. The definition of nationality was divided into British Citizenship,
British Dependent Territories Citizenship and British Overseas Citizenship. These
classifications and the hierarchy of rights they reflected were predicated on notions
of descendance and familiarity, that themselves depended on a grounding notion of
Britishness exclusive to any broader notion of belonging in the Commonwealth. Linking
immigration law with race relations legislation allows these themes to be pursued.
Activity 17.4
How has British law responded to immigration in the post-1945 period?
17.4.2 The Race Relations Acts

Anti-discrimination legislation takes three phases: the 1965 Race Relations Act,
expanded by the 1968 Act, and redefined by the 1976 Act (and more recently the 2000
Act). Similar themes run through all three Acts. Despite making for some important
changes, the Acts themselves are largely compromised, and leave racism largely intact.
The 1965 Race Relations Act was passed by a Labour government with a small majority
and on the eve of a general election. It was a rather limited measure, creating a
criminal offence of incitement to racial hatred and an overseeing body, the Race
Relations Board, which lacked basic powers to call for witnesses and documents. The
emphasis was on conciliation; only if conciliation failed could the Board refer the case
to the Attorney General, who may or may not chose to litigate. Interestingly, proposals
for an administrative body to implement the Act in the public interest, rather than
relying on conventional legal processes, were rejected. Arguably the nature of the Act
was profoundly affected by political compromises that were necessary to achieve the
necessary Parliamentary support (McCrudden et al., 1991).
Political exigencies combined with wider ideological failures to make it an Act without
teeth. The Race Relations Board, with its emphasis on conciliation was perceived by
those in whose favour the Act was meant to be operating, as stressing that they were
aliens who had to be reconciled with British society. The demand was for rights that
would make them the same as ‘other citizens’ (Fryer, 1984). The context of the 1965
Race Relations Act has been analysed by Miles and Phizacklea (1987, p. 57). They see
Roy Hattersley’s statement, made as an MP for Sparkbrook, Birmingham in 1965, as
symptomatic of the ideology of the Act: ‘Without integration, limitation is inexcusable;
without limitation, integration is impossible.’ These words suggest that the 1965 Act
was explicitly linked to a broader perception of the problem as one of a coloured
immigrant population that had to be both controlled at the point of entry to the
country and in their ongoing settlement and ‘integration’.
In the face of the evidence of widespread and violent racism (McIntosh and Smith,
1975; Luthra, 1997, p. 173, states that ‘the first official acknowledgement was in 1981 in
a report by the Home Office, Racial attacks’), it seems peculiar that the Board should
privilege this aspect of the law. It makes it seem as if the problem is accountable for
in terms of a ‘few bad apples’ – an argument that frequently re-appears in the rhetoric
of law and race, and which is finally discredited, at an official level, in the Macpherson
Report with its description of endemic, ‘institutionalised’ racism. To see the law as
‘unequivocal declaration of public policy’ (Lester and Bindman, 1972, p. 29) adds to this
argument a blindness to the tensions of the law. If this was, in turn, a second influential
argument in the foundations for the 1968 Act, it might indicate that the lawmakers
remained ignorant of the dynamics of the law.
Activity 17.5
To what extent were the 1965 and 1968 Race Relations Acts successful in countering
racism?
Reasons for the failures of the Race Relations Acts can be discovered in the very
arguments that were put forward by the Race Relations Board in 1967 arguing for an
extension of the earlier Act. For instance, it argued that the law ‘gives support for those
who do not wish to discriminate, but who feel compelled to do so by public pressure’.
Although the 1976 Act widened the scope of anti-discrimination law still further, there
were still glaring omissions, such as the exclusion of the police from the provisions
of the Act. From a contemporary perspective, this omission can be used as a lens to
focus the criticisms of the Act. One of the major advances on the face of the Act was
the widening of the concept of discrimination. Indirect discrimination was far broader
than direct discrimination, and arguably went some way to acknowledging the social
reality of racism’s operation. Acts of discrimination were often not obvious and direct,
but took place at a more sophisticated and covert level. The kind of discrimination
envisaged was the imposition of a condition which on the face of it was colour-blind,
but, in its application, occasioned discrimination. As commentators have suggested,
this concept of indirect discrimination falls far short of any meaningful idea of
institutional discrimination (Hepple, 1992, p. 25). As we shall see, the Lawrence Inquiry
privileged this understanding of racism as an institutional manifestation. They offered
the following definition of institutional racism:
The collective failure of an organisation to provide an appropriate and professional service

to people because of their colour, culture or ethnic origin. It can be seen or detected in
processes, attitude and behaviour which amount to discrimination through unwitting
prejudice, ignorance, thoughtlessness and racist stereotyping which disadvantage
minority ethnic people. (Macpherson, Lawrence Inquiry, 6:34)
This provides a far more useful definition than the 1976 Act as an attempt to describe
the dynamics of racist behaviour. It draws attention to the informal networks, the
unofficial, but influential social interactions where a culture’s racism coheres.
Summary
We have been examining British racism, and the response of British law to this
problem. The period since 1945 has seen substantial black and South Asian
immigration into Britain, the response to which has been a rise in racism and the
simultaneous passing of a series of laws designed to reduce immigration (whose
intent was plainly discriminatory) and other laws purporting to outlaw discrimination
against racial/ethnic minorities legally present in Britain. The various Race Relations
Acts, however, have proved ineffective at removing indirect discrimination.
17.5 The official inquiries

The first report into the investigation of the Stephen Lawrence† murder, the Kent †
Stephen Lawrence, a young
Report, found no evidence that racism had significantly contributed to the failures to black student, was murdered
make arrests. Admittedly, the Kent Report addressed complaints against individual by a gang of racist white
officers, and did not have a remit to research wider issues, but this in turn reflects the youths while waiting at a bus
constitution of the problem. stop in Eltham, South-East
London, on 22 April 1993. In
January 2012 two men were
17.5.1 The Scarman Report 1981
found guilty of Lawrence’s
We have to go back to Lord Scarman’s Report into the Brixton† Disorder in 1981, to put in murder.
context the reaction of British state institutions to racism. Lord Scarman rejected the
allegation that British institutions were systematically involved in racial discrimination. †
Brixton is an area of South
Racism was not seen to operate at the level of conscious policy or public decision- London which has a relatively
making. If either individuals or institutions discriminated on racial grounds, then the high black population.
explanation was that of ‘unwitting’ racism (Lawrence Inquiry, 6:7). Thus, the Metropolitan
Police were not racist; apparent prejudice at an operational level was to be explained by
‘errors of judgement …lack of imagination and flexibility’ (Lawrence Inquiry, 6:8).
At the level of everyday policing, ‘occasional’ racism could be explained as the

‘immaturity’ of certain officers. Despite this individualising of racism, there was
indeed an acknowledgement that the problem was wider and more structural.
This acknowledgement, though, appears as an explanation as to why individual
officers, who may not be racist, may come to behave in racist ways. Because of racial
stereotyping, officers facing a rising tide of ‘street crime’ may ‘lapse into unthinking
assumptions’ (Lawrence Inquiry, 6:10). It is not as if Lord Scarman is dismissive of
racism. Where unwitting racism has been proved, it warrants remedy; moreover,
racism is the cause of social tension that cannot be allowed to fester and destroy good
order. However, the legacy of the Scarman Report is an understanding of racism that
distracts attention from its invasive, systematic or institutional nature, and tends to
see it as unconscious or unwitting acts of individuals.
17.5.2 The Lawrence Inquiry

The limitations of Lord Scarman’s definition of racism were given in evidence to the
Lawrence Inquiry as descriptions of how both the Political Complaints Authority and
the police appreciated the issue of discrimination. It was described as the problem
of ‘rotten apples’ who ‘let the side down’ (Lawrence Inquiry, 6:14) and could be
countered by both selection and disciplinary procedures that would weed out the
racists. Despite Scarman’s emphasis on the need to combat racism, his report tended
to be used to support the argument that racial discrimination was not a widespread
problem in policing. Equally at fault was the ‘traditional way of doing things’. There are
many aspects to this ideology. Overarching is the reluctance to come to terms with the
need to police a multi-racial society. For a police force that is attached to a notion of
unarmed and consensual policing, such a refusal to move with the times is profoundly
damaging. The consensus that is policed reflects not broader contemporary social
mores, but the need to preserve certain values that are seen as under challenge.
Practices and procedures become ingrained and difficult to change. Most worryingly,
the culture of policing does not encourage a critical self-understanding that would
make prejudice easier to identify and to challenge.
As the Lawrence Inquiry was told, it ‘may be’ that these attitudes are prevalent
throughout British society. Such a concern was obviously outside the Inquiry’s terms
of reference. The problem is that of a general phenomenon. As institutional racism
it expresses itself not only in the failures of the Lawrence murder investigation, but
also in the disparity in the numbers of black people stopped and searched by police
(Lawrence Inquiry, 6:45) and the under-reporting of ‘racial incidents’ (Lawrence Inquiry,
6:45) and the inability of the police to take the issue seriously at the level of training.
(The report by Her Majesty’s Inspector of Constabulary, Winning the race, showed that
before 1998, ‘not a single officer’ had received training in ‘racism awareness’.) It is
perhaps no more than a local expression of a wider disease.
It is this ‘collective organisation failure’ (Lawrence Inquiry, 6:22) that has been
described as institutional racism. Interestingly, the report itself refers back to a text
by two Black American activists from the 1960s, Stokely Carmichael and Charles V.
Hamilton, to develop this definition. Racism must be seen as operating within the
most ‘respected forces’ and as a combination of both ‘active’ and ‘pervasive’ racist
attitudes; underlying these is a belief in black inferiority. Also present in the evidence
are assumptions about black lawlessness that have their own particular history.
The association of blacks (and particularly black youths) with criminality, and more
broadly, black communities with their difference from accepted national mores, are
concerns that have a long pedigree and show the involvement of law and media. In
the response of Sir Harold Scott, the Commissioner of London’s police, this criminality
was best dealt with by repatriation, themes that were taken up by the press and other
publications which also dwelled upon the difficult conditions experienced by black
immigrants in housing provision, to depict images of the difference of West Indians,
but also Pakistanis and (white) Irish people from the ‘native English’.
If the Lawrence Inquiry brings anything to light it is that these attitudes are no longer
acceptable. In the words of Sir John Woodcock, the Chief Inspector of Constabulary
in 1992, the Inquiry reveals a wider ‘cultural failure’. Thus in its recommendation for
tacking white English racism, there is a need for, in the words of the Reverend David
Wise, a ‘radical transformation’ involving not only the police but all levels of society.
The Inquiry becomes the point at which a previously radical critique enters within
official discourse. Again, with reference to the words of Sir John Woodcock, the police
remain a nineteenth-century institution, a ‘mechanism set up to protect the affluent
from what the Victorians described as the dangerous classes’ (Lawrence Inquiry, 6:61).
This suggests that the problem is one that has to be seen, most broadly, as one of
inclusion within a rethought democratic structure.
Summary
This part of the chapter has looked at the official responses to racism in law and
policing. The persistence of racism among white Britons was brought into sharp focus
by the murder of Stephen Lawrence, a crime which the police failed to solve. Early
inquiries largely exonerated the police from blame, but the Macpherson Inquiry, which
charged the police (among others) with institutional racism’, had an enormous effect.
Test your understanding by making summary notes for yourself on the following
questions:
1. Describe the concept of indirect discrimination provided by the 1976 Act.
2. What were the principal findings of the Scarman Report, and what was their
impact?
3. What is institutional racism?

uu explain the notions of race and ideology
uu describe the basic elements of a critical race response to British law and racism.
17.6 Critical race theory and postcolonialism

CRT and postcolonialism are related approaches. Whereas CRT takes the notion of race
as its focus, postcolonialism, as its title suggests, is concerned with a historical period:
the end of colonialism. This is not to suggest that CRT is not concerned with history, or
that postcolonialism is not concerned with race. However, whereas CRT comes out of
the American experience, postcolonialism tends to address the end of the European
empires in Africa, Asia and other parts of the world.
17.6.1 What was colonialism?

As one scholar writes:
[h]owever it may have been legitimised in ideological terms, it was by definition foreign
rule. Its primary task was to make this rule effective, to assure its long duration, to end or
neutralise opposition, and to make possible European activity in the colony (von Albertini,
1982, p. 488)
What marks colonialism is thus economic exploitation and racism; a sharp separation
between ‘the rulers and the ruled’. It would be wrong to reduce the dynamic of
colonialism to a cross-cultural and temporal template. Understanding the diversity
of the forms of the colonial also demands that the role of the law is accorded a
similar complexity. Following recent scholarship, it is possible to suggest a broadly
tripartite typology. Although this is somewhat simplistic, it does allow one both to
generalise about the law, and to observe a cultural specificity. The three phases can be
broadly represented as beginning with the first attempts to exploit the resources and
manpower of South America and Africa by European powers. This moves into a later
phase in the nineteenth century, where direct appropriation began to be replaced by
a regime of treatise and trading agreements, although much outright appropriation
of territories still took place. The third movement is that of the more formal colonial
rule of the later 1900s; this latter phase could also be seen as concluded, or redefined,
by the withdrawal from empire and the independence of the new African states. What
also cuts across this typology is the different developments of law and colonialism that
reflect the various traditions and experiments in government of the colonial powers.
However, although the law is a vehicle for the legitimisation of European rule, it is also
a site of struggle and resistance. In the moment of independence, law is used to define
national identity. We will consider its dynamic in the text of the Nigerian lawyer and
patriot Obafemi Awolowo:
When Britain decided to annex the territories that now constitute Nigeria, her motives
were to advance her economic interests, to gain strategic military positions, and to
enhance her political prestige. In order to secure these things it was imperative that
the people, after having been subjugated, should be pacified. Order and law must be
maintained. Commerce does not flourish in a turbulent country, nor can military posts
be maintained in a state of efficiency where the inhabitants are not amenable to orderly
government. (Awolowo, 1957, p. 58)
Awolowo’s tract is both a blueprint for a system of national and local government,
a discourse on the country’s past and an imaginative engagement with its future.
‘Nigeria’ is a country that will be brought into being by the law, but a law that has not,
as yet, been stated. At Awolowo’s moment of writing, one could not talk of Nigeria as
an independent nation. It was still a convenient division of land, a line drawn on a map
by Sir Charles Goldie, an administrative organisation to better allow the exploitation
of its resources, a collection of diverse peoples whose only common language was
English. At the same time, Awolowo is invoking constitutional values and linking
them to his imagination of Nigeria; simultaneously doing homage to a common law
tradition and accusing it of failing, of being unable to live up to its rhetoric. Linked to
this is the claim about economy:
[E]very year Nigeria pays to British investors an interest of £750,000 on her national debt
…Slavery continues in a more subtle but equally exploitative form. Not just in the servicing
of the national debt, but in the ninety-nine years, during which the Mining Royalty
Agreement will last, Nigeria will pay millions of pounds to the British owners of the United
Africa Company Ltd. (Awolowo, 1957, p. 20)
Here we have a knotting of themes. To be independent is to make a claim to legal

and economic sovereignty. Sovereignty is a claim to a law that can recognise and give
shape to the ‘people’ in whose interests economy will operate. Awolowo accuses
the colonial power of depriving Nigeria of these essential supports of nationhood.
Understanding the tensions that were to bedevil the newly independent nation
means thinking in terms of the poisonous legacy of colonialism. Indeed, the Nigerian
independence constitution was in many ways a problematic and flawed document.
However, these flaws must be seen alongside a great democratic potential and
commitment to human rights and the rule of law that are also a feature of Awolowo’s
vision. We will see that the potential of the constitution is one way in which Nigerian
jurists have continued to respond to the political and economic paralysis of the nation.
To build this argument we first need to examine the conjunction of failures in the
political, constitutional and economic structures of the nation.
Activity 17.6
a. What was colonialism?
b. What is postcolonialism?
17.6.2 Postcolonialism and the philosophy of law

Historically, there is an alliance between jurisprudence and colonialism. Tropes
of progress, difference and identity can be read as animating the jurisprudential
tradition. Although perhaps less central to the canon now, works such as Henry
Maine’s Ancient Law (2002) show clearly the sense in which jurisprudence was
informed by the anthropological, philosophical and historical suppositions of the
human sciences. More importantly, the distinction between the ‘savage’ and the
‘civilised’ can be glimpsed within the still central line of legal thinking that runs from
Hobbes to Hart. English jurisprudence is confronted with a problematic question by an
insight into its core mythology. It is as if this whole tradition fixes disorder ‘outside of
law – in the eruptions and disruptions of untamed nature or barely contained human
passion against which an ordering law is intrinsically set’ (Fitzpatrick, 1992, p. 81).
Law and the ‘savage’

What we find here is the creation of a Western, European identity, created in
opposition to all those features which it is not (Fitzpatrick, p. 65). This function is
performed by the idea of the pre-modern savage, identified with an undifferentiated
natural world and a worldview that is mythological, unscientific and fantastic. Cast
out from the world of culture, the savage as an object of nature is destined to become
something that reason will act upon, civilise and reform – and above all to be made
subject to reason’s sovereign power. It is not difficult to see how these philosophical
presuppositions fed into the mindset informing the establishment and perpetuation
of both slavery and the colonial project. In both cases, the colonised and exploited
territories were seen as materials for the West: either in the direct purchase of slaves,
or the founding of colonial orders in the newly discovered or conquered territories.
It is pointed out that already by the 1800s, the West had brought nearly a third of the
world into its sphere of exploitation (Fitzpatrick, p. 65).
We can trace this opposition of law to savagery through the foundations of

jurisprudence. Thomas Hobbes’ proclamation of the Leviathan, the mortal god who
will preserve the order of the community, can be seen as a definitional moment
in jurisprudence. Hobbes’ vision of the chaotic state of nature, where man turns
against his brother in a ‘war of all against all’, is directly informed by the structuring
separation of savage nature from organised and regulated culture. Law, as grounded
by the covenant that founds the power of the Leviathan as supreme sovereign, is the
line of separation, the bulwark that protects from a return to anarchy. Only when law
guarantees social peace can the commonwealth come together; political community
is thus predicated by subordination to a superior power. Although written much later
than Leviathan, John Austin’s The province of jurisprudence determined takes shape in the
same mythological space. Austin’s definition of law as the command of the sovereign
to which political inferiors owe habitual obedience is itself determined by Hobbes’
Leviathan. Underlying Austin’s jurisprudence are the same assumptions about the
desirability of law as a protection from the disorder of savage nature. Society could
not possibly cohere without this line of demarcation. Consider the following example
of the necessity of law in Austin’s text. A ‘solitary savage’ could not be a ‘social man’,
because he would not appreciate the necessity for communal living, and hence
government: ‘The savage mind is “unfurnished” with certain notions essential for
society’ (Fitzpatrick, p. 79). Most interestingly, Austin makes a link between this savage
state of nature and the unruly and restless poor, who do not appreciate the need for
the law.
These foundational Enlightenment ideas are themselves refined and adapted over
time. Our concern here is with the incremental development of the sciences of man.
Studying the way in which the world was classified and defined, one can trace a
slow movement towards modes of understanding that stress ideas of progress and
development, that build on the more spatially and hierarchically orientated ways of
thinking that had characterised the early Enlightenment. In the new sciences of man,
in particular anthropology and racial science, one can find the development and
increasing sophistication of the colonial project. The continuity of this project, despite
these changes in modes of thought, can be seen in the essential operation of the new
sciences.
They operated with classificatory schemas that sought to find identity in the negation
of difference (Fitzpatrick, p. 93). Fortified by a sense of progress, of the need to civilise
those who were savage, the colonial powers increasingly expressed their identity in
the denigration of those who they perceived to be ‘unlike’ themselves, peoples who
had to be subjected to ‘progress’ (Fitzpatrick, p. 70). Consider the work of those such
as Robert Knox or Herbert Spencer, who drew on Charles Darwin to create accounts
of the superiority of the white race. The position of the latter is the outcome of a long
history of struggle, and there is a reflex of these attitudes in the words and the work
of the colonial administrators. Fitzpatrick quotes Fitzjames Stephens, who wrote that
English law ‘is in fact the sum and substance of what we have to teach them. It is so
to speak the gospel of the English, and it is a compulsory gospel which admits of no
dissent and no disobedience.’ (p. 107).
Tracing these themes in contemporary jurisprudence

We can trace these concerns through Hart’s The concept of law. Hart’s thesis tries to
describe the most basic social functions that underlie any notion of law. Unless law has
a minimum moral content ‘men, as they are, would have no reason [for] obeying
voluntarily any rules’. It is in justifying this particular minimal content of law that Hart
employs a theory of human nature drawn from Hobbes. Here again is the vision of
savage society as that which is unregulated, anarchic and merely awaits the coming of
rational legal order. A stereotyped and racist understanding of primitive law is clearly a
development of this position. Modern law is, in this vision, of course, marked by its
flexibility and progress. It can be distinguished from the primitive by a ‘rule of
recognition’ that allows the system of rules to be changed by identifying a criterion
that both marks rules and allows them to be changed. Primitive law is inflexible and
rigid; impossible to change. What if this line of legal reasoning, rather than returning
to the essential, to a past that is the key to understanding the present, merely repeats
†
the present’s own concern with what man ‘is’?† Instead of a justification for the law Here is a fairly abysmal list
of traits that are said to be
which is universally applicable, Hart’s version of human nature might simply present a
characteristic of the human:
version of man that modern law has made; a product of modernist, secular culture
the ‘minimum purpose’
which is then read back as the origin of law: a frozen moment, incapable of thinking
of the law is survival. Men
beyond the limits it has imposed for itself.
are marked by a human
vulnerability which makes the
Summary and conclusion prohibition of killing perhaps
CRT can be seen as an intellectual movement that studies the response of the law the most necessary link
to racism. Although its historical roots are in the response of American scholars to between law and morality.
The ‘approximate equality’
the problem of slavery and black oppression in the United States, it can be seen as a
of men makes necessary a
broader account of the way in which law responds to racism in other jurisdictions. CRT
mutual ‘forbearance and
is critical of the way in which law has either ignored the problem of race, or responded
compromise’ which is again
in a less than adequate manner. In this sense, CRT is interested more broadly in racism
basic to both normative
as a social and political problem. We have also seen that the associated intellectual
systems. It is, moreover,
tradition of postcolonialism is also concerned with the historical problem of the way
the need to improve these
in which race, law and colonialism intersect. Postcolonial jurisprudence seeks to
restraints that necessitates
create an account of the issue of race in legal philosophy; and suggests that we should
the move to formal systems
read classic jurisprudential texts with an eye on their silences or evasions on the of law. What also determines
issue of race. In this section we have seen that there are certain overlays between CRT the human is a limited
and postcolonialism. There are, however, also differences of emphasis. Whereas the altruism; man is neither angel
former grows out of concern with race and racism in the USA, the latter has been more nor devil, but somewhere
focused on issues of European colonialism and its aftermath. between, and it is this
problematic quality that
Self-assessment questions again makes for rules which
Test your understanding by making summary notes for yourself on the following restrain the more aggressive
questions: aspects of human character.
1. In what sense does jurisprudence make use of a notion of the ‘savage’?
2. How does science creates classificatory schemas that define objects of

knowledge? How do these classifications relate to colonialism?

uu explain what is meant by a ‘postcolonial’ jurisprudence.
References
¢¢ Awolowo, O. The path to Nigerian freedom. (London: Faber, 1957, 1966).
¢¢ Bell, D. A. ‘Racial realism’ in Crenshaw, K. et al. (eds) Critical race theory: the key
writings that formed the movement. (New York: The New Press, 1995).
¢¢ Crenshaw, K. ‘Race, reform and retrenchment’ in Crenshaw, K. et al. (eds) Critical
race theory: the key writings that formed the movement. (New York: The New
Press, 1995).
¢¢ Fitzpatrick, P. The mythology of modern law. (London: Routledge, 1992).
¢¢ Freeman, A. D. ‘Legitimising discrimination through anti-discrimination law’

in Crenshaw, K. et al. (eds) Critical race theory: the key writings that formed the
movement. (New York: The New Press, 1995).
¢¢ Fryer, P. Staying power; the history of black people in Britain. (London: Pluto Press,
1984).
¢¢ Gilroy, P. There ain’t no black in the Union Jack. (London: Routledge, 1995).
¢¢ Guillaumin, C. Racism, sexism, power and ideology. (London: Routledge, 1995).
¢¢ Hepple, R. ‘Have twenty-five years of Race Relations Acts in Britain been a

failure?’ in Hepple, R. and E. M. Szyszczak (eds) Discrimination: the limits of the
law. (London: Mansell, 1992).
¢¢ Holmes, C. John Bull’s island: immigration and British society, 1871–1971. (London:
Macmillan, 1988).
¢¢ Jenkins, R. and J. Solomos (eds) Racism and equal opportunity policies in the 1980s.
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989).
¢¢ Juss, S. S. Immigration, nationality and citizenship. (London: Thomson Learning,

1993).
¢¢ Lester, A. and G. Bindman Race and law in Great Britain. (London: Penguin, 1972).
¢¢ Lustgarten, L. and J. Edwards ‘Racial inequality and the limits of the law’ in
Braham, P., A. Rattansi and R. Skellington. (eds) Racism and anti-racism. (London:
Sage, 1992).
¢¢ Luthra, M. Britain’s black population: social change, public policy and agenda.
(Aldershot: Arena, 1997).
¢¢ Macpherson, Sir W. ‘Inquiry into the matters arising from the death of Stephen
Lawrence’ (the Lawrence Inquiry). For full text see: http://www.archive.official-
documents.co.uk/document/cm42/4262/sli-00.htm.
¢¢ Maine, H. J. S. Ancient law. (New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Books, 2002).
¢¢ McCrudden, C. et al. Racial justice at work: enforcement of the Race Relations Act
1976 in employment. (London: Policy Studies Institute, 1991) p. 9.
¢¢ McIntosh, N. and Smith, D. J. The extent of racial discrimination. (London, Political

and Economic Planning, 1974).
¢¢ Miles, R. and A. Phizaklea White man’s country. (London: Pluto Press, 1987).
¢¢ Packenham, T. The scramble for Africa. (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1991).
¢¢ Sivandan, A. A different hunger: writings on black resistance. (London: Pluto Press,

1982).
¢¢ Small, S. Radicalized barriers: black experience in the United States and England in
the 1980s. (London: Routledge, 1994).
¢¢ Solomos, J. Race and racism in Britain. (London: St Martin’s Press, 1993).
¢¢ Taguieff, P-A. La force du préjugé: essai sur le racisme et ses doubles. (Paris: Editions
la Découverte, 1988). Available in English as The force of prejudice: racism and its
doubles. (University of Minnesota Press, 2001).
¢¢ Von Albertini, R. European colonial rule 1880–1940: The impact of the West on India,
Southeast Asia, and Africa. (Oxford: Greenwood Press, 1982).
Reflect and review



I can outline the American origins of critical race theory.   
I can give an overview of the civil liberties struggle

in the United States.   
I can explain the notions of race and ideology.   
I can describe the basic elements of a critical race

response to British law and racism.   
I can explain what is meant by a ‘postcolonial’

jurisprudence.   
revise?
Must Revision
revise done
17.1 American critical race theory  
17.2 Law and race discrimination  
17.3 Race, racism and ideology  
17.4 Critical race theory and British racism  
17.5 The official inquiries  
17.6 Critical race theory and postcolonialism  

Feedback to activities
Contents
Chapter 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 265
Chapter 3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 265
Chapter 4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 266
Chapter 5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 269
Chapter 6 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 269
Chapter 8 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 270
Chapter 9 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 271
Chapter 10 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 273
Chapter 11 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275
Chapter 12 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275
Chapter 13 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 276
Chapter 14 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 277
Chapter 15 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 278
Chapter 16 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 278
Chapter 17 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 280
Jurisprudence and legal theory Feedback to activities page 265
Chapter 2
Activity 2.1
Here as elsewhere in jurisprudence, there is always room for disagreement. In the
example of Picasso’s Guernica the statement that the painting is a certain size is
clearly descriptive. It is also reasonable clear that ‘Guernica is one of the great works
of art …’ is not descriptive because there are many people (such as those who think
that abstract art is not really art) who do not think that Guernica is great at all. What
sort of statement is it? Does it say what people ought to do and so is normative? In
one sense it does. When you say something is good, you are commending it to other
people and encouraging them to think in the same way. A more usual expression
would be to say that the statement about Guernica is an evaluative statement. But if
you adopted a theory that said ‘all great art is that which is accepted as great art by a
majority of people’ (not a very good theory in my view) and if you then said ‘Guernica
is great art’, then it is certainly possible to argue that what you say is just description:
it just describes the fact that a majority of people have accepted Guernica to be a
great work of art. How does this relate to law? Lord Diplock was famous for taking
what is known as the ‘literal’ approach to statutory interpretation. When he said that
‘the words plainly meant’ he took himself to be simply describing the law (that other
judges did not find the meaning of the words so plain did not appear to bother him).
But, it seems reasonable to say, he adopted a theoretical account of what he as a judge
was supposed to do: when the plain meaning of a statute pointed in one direction,
even if the result would have been odd, he assumed he had a duty to apply the statute
so understood. At times, Lord Diplock would talk of the importance of applying
Parliamentary sovereignty (he expressed it from time to time in the form of a warning
to judges not to ‘usurp the Parliamentary function’). And so we have a theoretical
and also a normative statement about the relationship between the judiciary and
the legislature (‘judges must not usurp the Parliamentary function’) and a descriptive
statement (‘this is what the plain meaning of the statute is’). Chapter 1 of Law’s Empire
is helpful in showing these differences in its discussion of three cases.
Activity 2.2
I think that the analogy works very well to show that our views about things are
shaped by our practical interests. There is a ‘thing’ there, a ‘state of baldness’ which
is neutral between the different attitudes towards it, but it only gets interesting
when the father and son disagree about that thing. Isn’t it reasonable to assume that
arguments about law are like this?
Chapter 3
Activity 3.1
Activity 3.2
Activity 3.3
This is a good example of an examination question which has a core subject matter
that comes from one section of the module but in which to answer the question
properly you need to draw upon your understanding gained from the module as a
whole. You need to understand what sort of claims were made in the name of natural
law and the aim of the positivist project. How far do you agree with the student who
commented towards the end of their answer:
Living in a Muslim country where parts of our law are Sharia laws that come from the
Quran [sic], I find it difficult to accept Hart’s theory of the minimum content of law, and
like Finnis, I feel that his theory is too minimal. The overlaps in law and morals stated are
too little. Since some of our laws are divined from religious sources which not only states
laws but also gives guidance on moral conduct, there is a lot of overlap between laws and
morals and a lot of laws can be said to have a moral content. Even though the five truisms
given by Hart are true for my society and I can relate to them, there are many others that
are ignored by Hart and not covered in his theory …
Here is yet another from the same batch of scripts:
Reading about the minimal content of natural law as a woman in a Muslim society I find
the emphasis on a shared minimum the only realistic answer for interacting between
cultures and different social groups. I am a sincere Muslim but when I read the Quran I can
not often see all the rules imposed on Woman that male interpreters claim are there …
I think that the Prophets were concerned to give both a minimum and then guidance for
the times they appeared. I understand that there have been others in the English history
that have said similar things to Hart – Hobbes, Hume and Adam Smith (?) – and there are
many who say that one has to include more – Fuller and Finnis (?). So we see the same
thing. Do we accept the minimum or are we told what to accept to become the bigger
thing? The better Muslim, the better Christian the flourishing legal order …But when we
put all the rules in and say that all these rules are backed by true morals then we get a
powerful group imposing their image on us. It is better if we can agree on a minimum
and then leave it up to each group to voluntarily accept the more rules, that way different
groups can live side by side …
Chapter 4
Activity 4.1
Notice the two very different sources of natural law (i.e. our understanding of morality
in these passages): first, our shared reason – our ‘shared conceptions’ given us by
nature by which we all classify things in the same way, evil with evil, good with good,
and so on; but secondly, God, the ‘author’ of the natural law. Is it not possible for our
reason to conflict with what we learn from the revelation of God’s will? This tension
between reason and revelation was a source of doubt throughout the Renaissance:† †
Renaissance: (French for
was the moral law as revealed by God good just because God willed it, or was it willed rebirth) the upsurge of
by God because it was good? Grotius† famously denied that right conduct was good cultural, philosophical and
just because God willed it, holding that natural law would be valid even if God didn’t cultural life that spread from
exist. One of the questions these passages raise is this: does the natural law tradition Italy to the rest of Europe
provide a plausible theory of morality in the first place? After all, for a natural law beginning in the fourteenth
theory to move on fruitfully to consider the moral character of the law, it must be century. It was triggered by
sound in its fundamentals. But have you any faith that morality can be successfully the rediscovery of classical
derived from man’s reason alone, or from revelation, or from some combination of the Greek, Islamic and Roman
texts.
two? A utilitarian would adamantly oppose this sort of characterisation of morality. So
does natural law theory’s claim that law and morality are at some level connected
†
depend upon the sort of theory of morality you espouse? Grotius: Hugo Grotius, Dutch
legal scholar, 1583–1645.
Activity 4.2
Assuming that forcible assault and sexual intercourse among citizens is universally
regarded as wrong (which, on the anthropological evidence, is a fair assumption), laws
prohibiting rape can be seen to reflect the basic precepts of natural law, a prohibition
which is universally understood by all with reason. However, various passages in the
Bible also testify to the wrongness of rape, and so one can also conclude that the evil
of rape is revealed to us by God, and thus forms part of the divine law as well. Note
however that the particular legal requirements for criminal conviction, such as the
rules regarding mens rea and consent, the rules on evidence, and the punishments
imposed, are matters of human law. These specific rules are not spelled out by the
divine law or natural law. The law of wills is an interesting case, for if the law of wills
is the law which concerns looking after one’s dependents on one’s death, then this
might be seen to draw upon both scripture and natural law. It is interesting to note
that the law of wills was, in England and elsewhere, originally part of the canon law
jurisdiction. Of course, the particular formalities, requirements, and much else in the
law of wills, are clearly determined by human beings and form part of the human
law. Almost all of the law of taxation, although it might in very abstract terms, draws
upon the divine law and natural law – as the law which concerns and specifies our
obligations to support our fellow man and provide resources for public goods which
underpin a flourishing community – seems clearly to fall within the province of human
law.
Activity 4.3
This is very similar to a general examination question focusing on Aquinas. Aquinas
is justly famous for taking the ancient natural law tradition and ‘Christianising’ it in a
way that provides genuine insights into the nature of the relations between law and
morality that many people find compelling. In the first place, notice how his theory
of the connection between law and morality is often portrayed as indirect, but in
such a way that this indirect connection is nonetheless quite robust. For example,
his characterisation of the orders of eternal, natural and human law emphasises the
rational and guiding functions of order and law, so that human law seems naturally to
fit within a larger structure. His distinction between specificatio and determinatio, and
his emphasis on the latter as the way in which much human law is created, makes the
supreme morality of natural law a constraint upon human law. This seems much more
plausible than treating human law as somehow directly ordained by morality.
You should also note the various tasks which must be accomplished by the human law,
and the limitations on what it can do, that Aquinas points out, once again explicating
the indirect relation of human law to natural law. On the other hand, the theory is
unavoidably complicated by Aquinas’s religious purposes, his sourcing of law in divine
wisdom, and his characterisation of the eternal law. These cannot be regarded as
credible features of a theory of law in a secular age. Furthermore, it is arguable that
Aquinas talks around, rather than giving a straight answer to, the central question of
our moral obligation to follow the law whether the particular rule in question is just
or not. Look at the formulations he gives of the way that human law partakes of the
order of eternal law, and of the way law obliges in conscience. Could not the guidance
he provides about disobeying the law not equally be provided by a positivist: do what
is morally right when the law says so, just because it is morally right; conversely, you
have no obligation to obey the law if it is morally wrong, but obviously you should take
into account the consequences of disobeying the law if that will cause more harm,
morally speaking, than obeying, as when it might lead to civil unrest and violence, for
example?
Activity 4.4
The ‘focal’ concept of law that Finnis describes is a theoretically narrowed,
multifaceted conception of law as the rules and institutions which flow from
working out of the requirements of practical reasonableness in its quest to provide
a community in which the basic values can be realised. It is not the ordinary
concept of law, which is much more diffuse, and which allows ‘law’ to be used of
the anthropologist’s primitive ‘legal’ culture, or to be used of the rules of a tyrant’s
coercive regime or the rules of the Mafia. Finnis is claiming to provide the best concept
of law for the theoretical purposes of understanding law. The difficulty with this view
is that it looks too ‘stipulative’, that is, Finnis decides upon his theoretical approach
to law, one in the natural law mould, and then argues that the concept of law which
differs from the ordinary concept of law is most suited to explaining law; but the
sceptic might claim that having at the outset found value in the natural law tradition,
Finnis just matches his concept of law to it. The point here is that we are not generally
free to choose how we will define our concepts, whatever our theories of the things
the concept represents. Our ‘ordinary’ concept of law is what it is because it reflects
what we all share in terms of what counts as law and what doesn’t; and no one is
entitled simply to say that our ordinary concept of law is too diffuse or mistaken.
The positivist would respond that our ordinary concept of law, which treats wicked
legal systems of law as legal systems nevertheless, and wicked laws as laws despite
their wickedness, is the concept of law we must explain. It does no good to tailor a
concept to match our moral interests, as Finnis arguably does here, for that is simply
to change the subject of the inquiry; by doing so, the positivist will respond, Finnis fails
to address the phenomenon of law as it is understood by people generally. This sort
of criticism cannot be blunted by appealing to the norms of reason of natural science,
for example by saying that for the purposes of physics, it doesn’t matter what our
ordinary concept of, say, mass, is, for physics is sound when it gets the nature of mass
right, not because there is some kind of social acceptance of the physicist’s theory
of mass. The positivist would respond by saying that in the case of social institutions
like the law, part of what makes them what they are is what people understand them
to be, for institutions like law are made up of intentional human practices, ways of
behaving, and so one cannot ignore the concept of the participants themselves in the
practice when examining what the practice actually is. Bear these points in mind when
you look at H.L.A. Hart’s Theory of law.
Activity 4.5
According to Fuller, in order for the law to acquire the value of ‘legality’, the law must
(1) operate by general rules, which (2) must be published to the subjects of the law,
and (3) must operate prospectively rather than retrospectively, and (4) which are
reasonably clear and intelligible, and (5) which are not contradictory, and (6) which do
not change so often and radically so as to make it impossible for a subject of the law
to follow the law, and (7) do not require the impossible of the subjects of the law, and
finally (8) must be administered in accordance with their meaning and purpose.
Notice that these requirements of ‘legal morality’, which Fuller sometimes refers to
as the ‘inner morality of the law’, are explained in terms of eight ways in which the
law can fail to be made or administered in a just way. This might lead one to question
whether these eight principles fully capture the morality of law, for they are all about
avoiding doing wrong rather than achieving any valuable purposes. Even in procedural
terms, it might be argued that Fuller does not capture obvious moral principles.
Consider the two principles of ‘natural justice’ which deeply inform administrative
law; audi alteram partem (‘hear the other party’ – the principle that a decision is not
fair if both parties to a dispute are not given fair opportunity to present facts and
make representations as to the law), and the principle that a tribunal must not be
biased, i.e. that the decision-maker cannot have any interest in the proceedings or be
related to either party so as to bring him or her into a conflict of interest. Are these not
obvious principles of ‘legality’? Can they easily be fitted into Fuller’s eight principles?
Hart’s criticism is famous, and at first glance seems decisive, for it does indeed look
as if Fuller’s principles of legality are principles of effective law-making, not morality,
which could be turned either to wicked or good purposes. The Nazis would have
needed to follow Fuller’s principles if they wanted to succeed in using the law to get
their subjects to do what they wanted. There is, however, a possible response to this,
though it is questionable whether it vindicates Fuller’s view as a ‘natural law’ view. It
might be said that retrospective legislation, legislation setting impossible tasks, or a
failure to observe the audi alteram partem rule, are not just matters of ineffectiveness,
but are obvious instance of unfairness, and thus immoral. While this seems right, it
does not seem to establish a necessary connection between law and morality. All it
seems to establish is that if you have a legal system in operation, then there are new
and different ways of acting immorally than there would be if there was no legal
system in place. So the existence of different social institutions, like law, the family,
marriage or schools, give rise to new and different occasions of wrong-doing. If there
were no examinations there could be no cheating in exams; if there were no authors
or books there could be no cases of plagiarism. But this doesn’t establish that taking
examinations is a moral enterprise, or that writing books is. Similarly, the fact that
the law provides new and different occasions for acting wrongfully does not seem to
establish any necessary connection between law and morality.
Chapter 5
Activity 5.1
The famous example is the difference between ‘being obliged’ and ‘being under
an obligation’ and you should think and comment on three other examples.
This distinction is one that Hart discerns in the language. He then says that,
characteristically, ‘being obliged’ applies to situations, such as the gunman demanding
money from the bank teller. Here, he says, there is only physical coercion. But a
situation where there is an obligation to do what is demanded would be where a tax
inspector makes a legitimate demand. Hart then argues that we ‘characteristically’
associate naked coercion with a lawlessness and that the tax inspector and the citizen
relationship is one governed by law. So, he concludes, an insight into our use of
language gives us an insight into the legal system.
Activity 5.2
a. This requires the use of imagination: can you be under an obligation to someone
(say, to carry out your promise to them to go and see them) when, unbeknown to
you, they have died? Would you then feel you had an obligation when, in fact, you
hadn’t?
b. Some international lawyers say that international law is more important than state
law. How could Hart counter their views with his primary/secondary rule thesis that
places the ‘modern municipal legal system’ at the centre of his theory?
c. This question goes to the heart of Hart’s methodology. It asks you to consider
what having an ‘internal attitude’ to law means. For example, could our ‘internal
attitudes’ be settled by reference to a question of fact about what other people
accept? If not, how, as Perry asks, could we resolve differences between us about
what legal obligations there are?
Chapter 6
Activity 6.1
Read what John Finnis has to say in his Natural law and natural rights Chapter 1 pp.6–9.
Finnis says that Hart constantly appeals to the ‘practical point’ of the components
of his theory. What ‘practical point(s)’ do you think the rule of recognition serve(s)?
You should refer back to section 5.4 of this module guide. The point of reading this
is to encourage you to consider whether reference to ‘actual facts’ is an easy thing
to do. Facts come in all guises, and to find out what some facts are it is necessary to
do something more than just record ‘what is the case’. Hart’s reference to function
suggests that the task of merely recording ‘facts’ will require evaluation of some
sort. ‘What is the function of law?’ is not a question that can easily be answered by
reference to ‘actual facts’.
Activity 6.2
Distinguish rules from principles as Dworkin does. Then try to provide and compare
your own examples of legal rules and principles. Are you convinced that there is a
distinction? Or that, if there is a distinction, it is of any importance?
Activity 6.3
The distinction is important to Dworkin since the application of principles requires
a judgment of value, which will often be controversial among judges, and since the
rule of recognition is defined as a matter of fact about what judges uncontroversially
recognise, principles must be identified in some other way. In Smith it seems difficult
to suppose that the words of the statute ‘really’ said, in an ‘all or nothing’ sense, that
Smith had a right to knowledge that would enable him seriously to injure a person.
But take Dworkin’s example of the speed-limit traffic rule. He says that it applies in an
all-or-nothing sense in that you are either driving over 30 mph or you are not. What
about a person who drives at 50 mph because he is taking his wife to hospital as she
needs urgent assistance? How should we view the situation if a judge, as a judge might
well, decided that the husband had not broken the law because he had the defence
of necessity? Do we say the rule is that no-one can drive over 30 mph but a judge has
discretion to waive the rule in accordance with a general principle of necessity, or
do we say that a proper understanding of the rule is that necessity is implied into its
meaning? Dworkin thinks that the latter kind of understanding is what is important as
it preserves the idea that the judge is not acting as a legislator.
Chapter 8
Activity 8.1
The first thing to notice is that there is not a sharp line between conventional
explanations of the law and expertise-based explanations. Requiring the wearing of
seat-belts looks like a classic expertise-based law. The state has scientific and other
resources to assess whether the wearing of safety-belts reduces death and injury
in road accidents, and can plausibly be said to be in a better position to guide the
subjects of the law on this issue than the subjects themselves. Again, traffic regulations
are largely conventional (we could devise a different workable set) but may also be
based on expert understanding of traffic flows, driving behaviour, etc.
But treating either convention or expertise as the ground for authority looks less
compelling in the case of creating the crimes of rape and theft, for we don’t treat these
rules as simply conventional, but demanded by morality, and as to special knowledge,
we believe that every normal person can be presumed to understand that these
are wrong. However, one might notice that the law creates technical definitions of
rape and theft, specifying the elements of mens rea and actus reus, for example, and
this can be looked at as the laying down of conventions, the purpose of which is to
provide more precise guidance to judges and juries to ensure the fair application
of the law; this might draw upon the expertise of the law in framing workable legal
definitions. The authority of the law to punish might derive from a different source.
While criminals deserve punishment, arguably this should not be left to victims or
those close to them or citizens generally because the punishments inflicted may be
too haphazard or excessive, because of the strength of emotions. Taxation might be
regarded as a case of a solution to a kind of coordination problem. Assume that all
citizens have a moral obligation to contribute a fair share of their wealth to the state
in order for its functions to be performed. It would be unfeasible if everyone was left
to decide how much each of them should individually contribute; in particular, a fair
result would be unlikely.
So the law has authority to set a workable set of rules which achieves this results
better than citizens left to their own devices would be able to do. In The morality
of freedom (p. 75) Raz suggests five bases for legitimate authority: (1) wisdom or
expertise; (2) the authority has a steadier will, is less likely to be biased or impetuous
(consider the punishment case); (3) individuals should follow an indirect strategy
of doing what they should, and this strategy is provided by following the authority
(consider the obligation to help the poor – this might be better done through taxation
and social services than by people acting on their own); (4) deciding for oneself may
be too costly or inefficient or cause anxiety (this would seem to apply to the case
of trying to deal with one’s own severe illness); and (5) the solution of coordination
problems, broadly construed, by the provision of conventions (e.g. the road traffic
case).
Activity 8.2
When you promise, you treat the promise as an exclusionary reason guiding your
future behaviour. You first deliberate about whether to make the promise, but once
you make the promise to another person, you enter the executive phase of practical
reason, taking the promise as an exclusionary reason which alone will guide your
behaviour. Afterwards, you are not entitled to breach the promise simply because you
change your mind and don’t think making it was a good idea any more. Clearly, the
separation of the deliberative and executive phases of practical reason accomplishes a
different task here than in the case of the judicial decision or the committee decision,
because as promiser you are the sole participant in both phases, and so the purpose
is not to coordinate the activities of different people in the obvious way that these
do. But in another sense, the exclusionary reason of a promise does coordinate the
activities of people, by allowing a practice of promising to develop, by which people
can count on others to do the things they said they would and coordinate their
activities in that way. If a person who promised you something was free to reassess
whether they would carry out the promise when the time came to keep it, you would
not be able to plan with certainty on their doing so, and so you would, in response,
have to plan in the face of uncertainty. Think how different the world would be if no
one could expect others to keep their commitments.
Activity 8.3
In describing how Raz applies his theory, it is important to say how the central features
of his account of authority – the service conception of authority; the way authorities
mediate between their subjects and the balance of reasons that apply to them; the
normal justification thesis; the distinction between the deliberative and executive
phases of practical reason and the nature, force and scope of exclusionary reasons
– all fit together to explain the nature of law. It must be acknowledged that Raz’s
theory is very tightly argued, so that if you find his account of authority illuminating,
then you will find his account of the authoritative nature of the law illuminating. You
might challenge the account of authority itself, say by preferring one of the more
traditional ‘power’-based accounts of authority. Or you might deny that morality is
as controversial as he seems to think, so that directives making reference to morality
really do make a practical difference. Note, however, that Raz only says that to the
extent a directive is controversial it is not law. This might be clear in some cases and
not others, but in recognising this Raz does no more than describe another case where
a rule is not authoritative, in the same way that Hart said that the law runs out, as it
were, where a statute using a vague word like ‘vehicle’ is sought to be applied to a
difficult case, such as ‘roller-skates’; there Hart, just like Raz, would say that a judge has
a power to exercise his or her discretion to resolve the case.) You should also consider
a variant of this argument, which Dworkin makes, and which is given in section 8.5 of
this guide.
Chapter 9
Activity 9.1
The point to explain here is the difference in the normative intention lying behind
rules which give rise to taxes and those that give rise to fines. If, like Kelsen, you only
look at rules from the perspective of ‘if A does this, the court may impose such and
such a sanction, e.g. the payment of £100’, then you cannot distinguish the case where
the law imposes a £100 fine on A for driving above the speed limit from the case where
the law demands £100 in tax because A earns £500 of income. In both cases it looks
like the law is punishing A. But of course this is not true. In the first case, a true case
of a sanction, A is fined £100 because he breached a duty not to speed. In the second
case, however, A breached no duty by earning income. The intended normative impact
of the taxing rule is not to discourage A from earning money, imposing upon A a duty
not to earn money. Rather, the liability to tax arises by operation of law as part of a
system for raising revenue. The example points out that the normative impact of a
rule cannot be determined just by looking at the consequences which flow from its
operation, any more than one can treat the liability to pay damages for a tort as a
consequence of the exercise of a power to benefit someone by injuring them. In both
cases one can only make sense of the norms in question by looking at the standards of
behaviour the law intends to institute.
Activity 9.2
a. The right to life, in the sense of a right not to be killed, is the standard example. It is
general in that everyone has this right, and in rem in that a right to life binds every
other subject of the legal system.
b. The standard example here is a right to property, in the sense of your right of
ownership in Blackacre. It is a special right, in that only one person has it (or several
specified people in the case of co-ownership), and it binds every one else, as every
one else has the duty not to trespass.
c. This is the difficult category, for the obvious reason that we normally think of rights
in personam, like rights under a contract, or arising by operation of law when you
negligently injure someone, as arising because a transaction of some kind has
taken place between the people involved, in which case the right would be special.
But Penner suggests ‘a right to vote’ and ‘a right to the care of [one’s] parents’
(Penner, The idea of property in law, p. 21) and these seem to fit the bill, because
simply by being born and alive one must have parents, and simply by attaining the
age of 18 one acquires the right to vote, but both rights are in personam, the first
against each of one’s parents, the second against whatever officials are in charge
of conducting elections. (Note: these rights are defeasible, because one or both
of one’s parents may be dead, or one might be elevated to the House of Lords. But
that doesn’t mean they are not general rights.)
d. This is straightforward. Contractual rights, rights following from a court order, and
so on, are all special, arising because of a particular transaction, and in personam,
applying only to the parties involved.
Activity 9.3
Ben, as owner of the garden, has a right against all others that they do not trespass in
his garden, and all others have a correlative duty not to trespass. He has the liberty to
grow flowers (and to do all manner of other things) in his garden, for everyone else has
‘no-right’ that he not. As owner, he has the power to grant easements, and everyone
else in the world each has a corresponding liability to be granted an easement (notice
the strange use of ‘liability’ in this context – one normally doesn’t think of oneself
as liable to be given something, though the English language supports this usage).
Erica has been granted an easement by Ben or a previous owner; her situation can be
described in several ways. Ben would normally have the right that Erica not pass across
his garden, as he would against all subjects of the legal system, but Erica’s easement
changes this. In the absence of the easement, Ben would have the power to bring a
trespass action against Erica, and she would be liable to respond in court, but Erica can
be said, in comparison with all others, to have an immunity from prosecution, and Ben
to have the corresponding disability to bring an action against her. In terms of rights
and duties, Erica has the liberty to pass through Ben’s garden, and he has a no-right
that she doesn’t; Erica also has the right that Ben not impede her use of the right-
of-way, and he the correlative duty not to do so, a duty he breaches when he blocks
her access. (He has no legal reason for doing this, for though it annoys Ben, Ben has
no-right that Erica not look at his flowers, and so she has a liberty to do so.) On Ben’s
breach of his duty, Erica has a power to bring an action against him, and Ben a liability
to respond in court. Vis-à-vis the court, Erica has a right to bring an action, and the
court a duty to hear her complaint, whereas the court has a right that Ben appear in
reply (and Ben the correlative duty to appear) and a power to award an injunction and
damages, and Ben the correlative liability. (Actually, things are more complicated than
this, for Ben may not be under a duty to appear, but only under a conditional liability,
in the sense that if he does not appear, the court has the power to make an award
against him in his absence.)
Having worked through all this in Hohfeldian terms, does it appear to you that your
understanding of the legal situation has been clarified, or enhanced?
Activity 9.4
The first criticism is that rules are not practices; i.e. a rule can exist even though no
one practices it. Indeed, people often begin acting in a certain way because they
become convinced there is a rule they ought to follow. Thus a rule can exist before it is
practised.
The second criticism is that the practice theory does not distinguish following a rule
from acting on generally accepted reasons, a criticism famously made by Warnock in
the cricket example which Raz quotes. There is pressure on a cricket team captain to
alter the field setting when a slow bowler is replaced by a fast one, and he is criticised
if he fails to do so. But there is no rule that a captain should move his fielders to
different positions; it is merely generally accepted that this is the right way to captain
the team in this circumstance.
Finally, the mere existence of a practice does not entail that people ought to conform
to the practice. Rules are oughts, in the sense that if there is a rule that applies to
one, one appreciates that one ought to follow it. But just because there is a practice
of acting in one way, whether attended by social pressure or not, does not mean one
ought to follow the practice. So again, rules are not equivalent to practices.
Activity 9.5
The question is whether a corporation can be liable as a ‘legal’ person for a crime. From
the Wittgensteinian perspective, it is hopeless to think that the fact that a corporation
is a legal person answers the question, since because the criminal law applies to
the conduct of individuals, we normally do not think of corporations as having the
attributes of ‘persons’ which makes criminally prosecuting them sensible: for example,
it is difficult to know what to do with the requirement of mens rea for criminal liability,
for corporations do not have minds or intentions, or at least, if they do, not in the
same way as individuals do. Nevertheless, one might argue that the criminal liability
of corporations in such a case might serve some of the functions of criminal law, such
as deterrence, or the expression of strong social disapproval. If you are a Hartian, then
you would regard a judge as having to exercise best judgment in such a case, weighing
up the different purposes that criminal liability would serve, and considering the
possible drawbacks. A Dworkinian would regard it as necessary for the judge to make
his or her decision appear to put the law in its best light, fitting the decision within a
broader theory of the underlying values of the legal system.
Chapter 10
Activity 10.1
Hart defines legal positivism, as we saw in Chapter 6, as an account of law in which it
is not necessary to make a moral judgment in identifying law. Kelsen takes exactly the
same line. We do not need to make a judgment of morality – about the content of law
– to work out what the law requires. There is initial sense in this idea. We can identify
that the Abortion Act 1967 is law merely by showing that it is an Act of Parliament, and
this appears not to require any moral judgment at all. The question whether the Act
is morally right to permit abortions in particular circumstances is an entirely different
question.
Questions to put to yourself:
uu Is it true that we can identify that something is law, merely because it takes the
particular form of a statute?
uu Do we make a moral judgment when we say ‘that is an Act of Parliament’?
Consider what Kelsen means when he says that we can ‘describe’ a set of ‘ought-
propositions’. He thinks we can describe a set of rules, which independently ‘tell’
people what to do. At first sight, this seems OK. After all, we can describe ‘the rules of
chess’ and they ‘tell’ people what they ‘ought’ to do to play chess. In fact, the analogy
with chess is helpful, since Hart used an analogy with games on many occasions in The
concept of law: you can describe the rules of a game without making any judgment
about the morality of the game. Well, can you? What if there were a ‘game’ of torturing
people, with its own set of rules saying what those playing the ‘game’ ought to do in
order to play it. If you are not willing to call this a ‘real’ game, is it because you think
that in any human activity there is implicit some reference to a morally good human
purpose? If so, you might start rethinking your position if you are convinced by legal
positivism.
Activities 10.2–10.4
Activity 10.5
In (a) ask yourself at what point has effectiveness ceased, and what is the implication
for validity.
In (b) at what point, and why, would a new Grundnorm come into being? This problem
requires you to consider the position of the judges and the difficult and obscure
question of ‘who assumes the Grundnorm?’
Part (c) raises a question about the identity of legal systems; if there is only one
Grundnorm for each legal system, what if a new state is created? Is there automatically
a new Grundnorm that gives it legal status?
Part (d) asks a question that is the mirror image of (c): can a legal system ‘revive’ after
a return to the old state before the revolution took place (think of the Russia–USSR–
Russia historical change)?
Activity 10.6
Try to suggest your own ideas. For example, when you consider how technical some
laws are (e.g. Law of Property Act 1925), perhaps it is reasonable to suppose that law is
a matter for technically skilled officials, about how to conduct their business, rather
than a matter for private citizens. Or, you might consider whether a distinction can be
made between civil and criminal law and still remain within the Kelsenian framework.
Activity 10.7
‘Social normativity’, according to Raz, explains rule-following by stating that the
standards are social, meaning that we identify them by referring to actually accepted
standards. ‘Justified normativity’, also according to Raz, explains rule-following by
stating that the standards are inherently justified, whether or not there is a social
practice.
Consider the following two ways of arguing. Killing animals is wrong: (a) because
it is actually accepted by people to be wrong; and/or (b) because it violates animal
rights. Here (a) depends on social facts (people’s acceptance) but (b) does not, since
a vegetarian could maintain her stance even though most people disagreed with her.
(Can you think of two other examples where what most people accept is different
from what is right?)
There are several possibilities. Is it the ‘legal scientist’ who describes the law? If so, in
what sense is his or her description also a justification? It is very difficult to see how
just describing what the law is at the same time justifies it. On the other hand, in
Hart’s theory, the rule of recognition is discovered by straightforwardly engaging in an
empirical description of what judges and officials ‘in fact’ recognise as law, and Hart,
at any rate, was happy enough with this as a justification of a statement of what you or
I ought to do according to law. But maybe it is you – the individual – who accepts the
Grundnorm and so ‘justifies’ it? But that suggests that the law can exist for one person
but not another just by the process of accepting, like a sort of private ‘justifying’, which
seems odd. Clearly, though, ‘justified’ cannot mean ‘morally justified’ in Kelsen’s terms
because he specifically rules out morality here (otherwise his theory is not ‘pure’
and so not one of legal positivism). Is there a point of view from which the law is not
morally justified, but is publicly justified? It is difficult to think of one, unless we just
read Kelsen as Hartian, but this seems impossible since Kelsen is insistent, as Hart was
not, that the law was not to be equated with any description of social fact: there had
to be, through the Grundnorm, a transcendental ‘assumption’ of validity.
Chapter 11
Activity 11.1
Activity 11.2
The question is testing whether you appreciate that Hercules is an ideal judge. He
need not therefore exist, in the same sense that the ideal economic market does not
exist. On the other hand, both ideal ways of judging and the perfect market exist in the
sense that they are present always, guiding judges and economists to better decisions.
For example, you can’t have a ‘market imperfection’, such as a monopoly, unless you
have some idea of a perfect market in mind. See the summary after section 11.4.
Activity 11.3
We can differ in our ‘conceptions’ of something and it is reasonable to think that
we differ in our perceptions of a concept of that thing. Positivists have a positivistic
conception of the concept of law; natural lawyers have a natural law conception.
Indeed, Hart talks in Chapter 9 of The concept of law of ‘wider’ and ‘narrower’
conceptions of law. What, then, is ‘the concept’ of which differing conceptions differ?
Here is another way of looking at the matter: what is common to what Dworkin, Hart
and Kelsen think about law? There is something there, to do with rules, officials,
central coercive power. Dworkin’s point is that conceptions are controversial, but
concepts are relatively not. To test what he says, try to think what elements of law
would be constant to all differing views of it.
Activity 11.4
Here are several thoughts that you should take into account:
uu Can we ever be certain of anything?
uu Do lawyers think that there are right answers to the points of law they argue in
court?
uu What would the consequence be if there were no right answers to the question
whether abortion was right?
uu Is there a right answer to the question ‘is murder wrong?’
uu If there is, what argument makes it certain, if any?
uu If 100 per cent of people thought that Nazism was right, or that abortion was
wrong, or that slavery was justified (including the slaves themselves), would that
be a sufficient reason for saying that slavery was right?
Activity 11.5
Chapter 12
Activity 12.1
On the face of it this is a story full of violence, but law makes the violence invisible. The
categories of the law remove the human violence and engage in concepts. Thus we are
told that law makes its decisions rationally, that it is autonomous and in that way law
maintains its judgment while remaining aloof and unstained by the deeds themselves.
But the sociology of law refuses to accept that law has an autonomy; instead it is a
social practice embedded in social structures, whether cultural, political or economic.
In this case we can tell stories putting the case of the Zong in various political, cultural
contexts, we can put it in an economic context …thus the legal order reinforced and
made possible the slave system.
We can see that the legal system filtered out from the social process the ‘case’ that it
recognised. This case became ‘recognised’ as one of insurance law. Thus questions of
law are often really the questions that the system has allowed to be asked. It can be
said that law can answer any questions, but they must be questions that have been
rewritten and repositioned in legal language, in legal procedures and thus a legal
determination made possible.
But if this is the case, then we must ask:
uu What is insurance law and what is its relation to social processes and different
groups in society?
uu What is commercial law? What sort of ethical position should a judge adopt when
deciding a case of ‘commercial law’?
uu What is the connection between a legal case and justice?
uu Does the answer depend on the ‘subject position’ of the person who is asking the
question and the perspective that he or she adopts?
Activity 12.2
Chapter 13
Activity 13.1
Activity 13.2
Activity 13.3
Marx is critical of Hegel because his philosophy reduces history to a pattern Marx is
tying to create a more nuanced theory of the social world. A phenomenon like law can
be understood in its material of historical context; but this does not mean that history
has any eventual pattern or meaning.
Activity 13.4
As Pashukanis argued that all exchange was capitalist exchange, he came to the
conclusion that all law was bourgeois law. The consequence of this argument is ‘a one-
sided critique which excluded the possibility of socialist legality and neglected any
question of democratising and socialising the law’. These criticisms are more broadly
criticisms of the Soviet system. Pashukanis’ legal theory ‘played into the hands of the
Stalinist regime, which deployed his theory of the primacy of technical regulation
under socialism to justify the power of the bureaucracy and its disregard for legal
constraints’.
Activity 13.5
a. Criticisms are aimed at the Stalinist Soviet regime, which had turned into tyranny,
and ‘complacent liberalism’, which had itself failed to resolve the exploitations
of a capitalist mode of production. Fine and Picciotto are arguing, then, that the
Western political order is responsible for political oppression despite the fact that
it subscribes to democracy.
b. They build on the views of Karl Renner to suggest that the formal equality and
neutrality of the law hide the fact that it continues to serve the interests of those
who hold economic power. This is to re-affirm a faith in socialism, but to connect
this with an idea of the rule of law: ‘the rule of law could only be fully realised
under socialism, since under capitalism it is distorted and corrupted by private
interests’. The rule of law now means that state institutions must be democratised,
and that legal regulation must continue into the private sphere to ensure ‘the
nationalisation of industry, but also by welfare legislation on employment, social
security and child protection’.
c. Althusser argues that there is no simple relationship between economic base and
social superstructure. Rather, there could be ‘differential’ relations between base
and superstructure. For example, a capitalist economy may still retain ‘feudal’ legal
mechanisms (the trust, for instance).
Activity 13.6
The ideological state apparatus is defined as a form of power operating in the interests
of the state. The very plurality of the ISAs makes them distinguishable from the more
fixed and located RSAs. The ISAs also infest the private realm to a far greater extent.
The ISAs, despite their plurality, are organised ‘beneath the ruling ideology’. Although
this ideology itself may not be unified, the ruling class could be an alliance of different
classes; this insistence is the homology of economic determination in the last
instance.
Activity 13.7
It depends on what ‘useful’ means! Clearly, if one is only concerned with elaborating
the structure of trade law, and arguing it is coherent and able to regulate world
trade, then Marxism, as a critique of a capitalist organisation of world economy, is
not particularly useful. However, if one wants to understand trade law in a critical
way, then one might find Marxism useful. Rather than accepting that trade law can be
accounted for in arguments about efficient use or regulation of resources, a Marxist
account might argue that trade law is unable to regulate the inequalities that exist in
the world market place. To be understood, trade law must be related to the creation
and sustenance of world markets in such terms as primarily benefit the developed
world.
Chapter 14
Activity 14.1
Activity 14.2
a. Briefly, the Pareto criterion, much in use by economists, says that welfare is
increased when, as between two parties to a bargain, neither is worse off and at
least one is better off.
b. The Coase theorem says that, in the ideal costless world, people would bargain to
produce the most efficient result. It therefore suggests that, in the real world of
costs, market intervention could achieve a more efficient result, and so justifies
that intervention in ideal market terms.
c. The Kaldor–Hicks criterion of the measurement of efficiency does so in terms of

money and allows one party to be worse off if sufficient money is generated that
could in principle only – for no money payment to the worse off is envisaged –
compensate the worse off.
Chapter 15
Activity 15.1
It should be relatively easy to understand the idea of subject position as the basis for
feminist theorising. Feminist jurisprudence is therefore best conceived as the output
of women consciously positioning themselves as feminists seeking to represent
their experiences and reflections and attempting to express the lived meaning of
the feminine in a dominant masculine culture where law is clearly relied upon as a
crucial regulatory and structuring mechanism. What are the consequences of this?
Some theorists have suggested that feminist subject-position or stand-point theories
lead into postmodernism, as once the premise of a distinct feminist, or a black, etc.,
standpoint from which to comprehend the world is accepted, it is only a small step
to arguing that there are a myriad of positions and therefore knowledges, none of
which is to be accepted as ‘the’ master knowledge. The postmodernist idea represents
a break with one project of the Enlightenment, namely that there exists a certain
foundation for knowledge which should be uncovered and by reference to which it is
possible to array and structure all the other knowledge claims.
Perhaps, as some have suggested, the trick is to achieve a feminism, or black, position
that speaks from that experience to address issues that transcend the particular
aspects of that experience.
Activity 15.2
One theme of feminist concerns generally is undercutting our common-sense, taken-
for-granted views of the world and the place of women in it. In feminist accounts
of legal theory this sometimes takes the form of re-inserting the gender issue into
accounts of modernity and political progress, which otherwise present the present as
if it were a wonderful advancement on the repressions of the past.
As an example, section 15.1.2 considers some aspects of the French Revolution.
Activity 15.3
Chapter 16
Activity 16.1
A number of themes emerge. First of all, there is in (a) and (b) the idea that CLS
represents a continuation of realism, or a school of thought called American Legal
Realism. We will look in a little more detail at this issue in a moment. But, it is
important to realise that CLS has its own antecedents and its own intellectual heritage.
At the same time, it represents both a break with previous schools of jurisprudence
and an extension or radicalisation of realism. These themes are also present in (a) and
(b). In other words, CLS scholars begin to ask a different set of questions about the law.
This theme runs through (a), (b) and (c). Another common theme identifies the nature
of the questions that CLS scholars are asking. As we know from previous chapters,
law is seen as a coherent body of rules. CLS scholars are reluctant to agree with this
position. They are sceptical of the idea that law is coherent. Rather, they argue that
the law is bound up with value choices. We can see, particularly in the last extract, the
rejection of the idea that rules of law are neutral. Law is in fact a form of politics that
disguises its political nature. The final extract also draws attention to the way in which
CLS opened questions about the values that operate within law. This extract draws
attention to an important feature of CLS: its belief that the law could be changed.
Presently, we will see how this has associated CLS with left-wing or progressive politics.
Activity 16.2
a. Although a long way from contemporary liberal legal theory, Blackstone is
important as a model for American lawyers because he provides an influential
attempt to describe the coherence of the common law. If one wants to attack this
position, then it is sensible to start with such an influential figure. Later in the essay,
Kennedy goes on to argue that Blackstone provided a model for the dissemination
of professional knowledge, and provides a foundational idea for American law
resting upon a notion of method, as defined by the rule of law, and of the rights of
persons.
b. Kennedy starts from the argument that law is trapped in a contradiction. Law
attempts to achieve social justice; but at the same time, it has to mediate our
relations with other people. In the latter sense, Kennedy seems to imply that the
law must be coercive. Coercion and the need to achieve social justice are the tasks
that the law must fulfil at the same time. Kennedy also suggests that this is hidden
from those in whose interests law operates, and those who law oppresses. He
seems to be suggesting that this is misleading because it makes law seem part of
the status quo, and thus incapable of change; rather than one way in which society
has been organised.
Activity 16.3
The fundamental contradiction can be seen as related to the fact that we depend
upon others for the realisation of our social life, and yet others are also a threat. Law
must organise society to allow us to exist with others, and realise our lives; yet it
must also be coercive, and sustain social order. It is as if this basic problem has been
forgotten in an account of law that simply stresses that law is a means of resolving
disputes through neutral courts and supposedly coherent bodies of law. The problem
of social life is inherently a political issue, and should be dealt with as such: in other
words, it is a question of how society is organised. Kennedy argues that it is simply
misleading to think that law has resolved this problem. One should be sceptical of the
nature of law for this very reason.
Activity 16.4
To a more conventional jurisprudence, which stresses law’s neutrality, or even
essentially principled nature, Kennedy’s exercise would appear monstrous. The judge’s
job is to apply the rules without prejudice. The point, of course, is to show that this is
not a realistic model. Interpretation, although constrained in some ways, is also open
to the personal desires of the judge. More precisely, the piece shows the manipulation
of the rules’ ‘grey area’ to the extent that it can influence the way in which the dispute
is perceived, and hence resolved.
Activity 16.5
a. Gabel and Kennedy appear to be discussing similar features of legal reasoning. They
share the idea that legal reasoning is mystificatory. However, whereas Kennedy
tends to think in terms of the fundamental contradiction, Gabel argues that legal
reasoning operates so as to make institutions and arrangements in society seem
unalterable and impossible to change.
b. Reification can be described as the situation where the inherently fluid and
changeable relationships between people appear ‘frozen’ into certain institutional
forms, and hence incapable of change. It derives from the Latin word for a
‘thing’ (res). One way of putting it into different words, might be to see it as
‘thingification’: what should be living and subject to change, appears to be static
and immovable.
Social life is reified and disconnected. The law represents some way of organising
society, but offers false hope, because it cannot resolve the profound sense of
alienation that people experience in society. At the same time, there are instances
when one momentarily grasps the possibility that one can connect with someone
else in a moment of empathy and shared understanding. This is possibly the
moment of the ‘intersubjective zap’. In other words, even within the reified social
world, one can see that there are possibilities. The problem is that Gabel does not
really elaborate how a less alienated society is achievable.
Activity 16.6
Activity 16.7
Negative capability is an idea that builds on that of expanded doctrine. The latter was
an attempt to argue that legal doctrine needed to be placed in contact with other
fields of social and political theory. Negative capability is a call to imagination. If one
accepts Unger’s ideas about the need for social solidarity, then one could see negative
capability as the ability to imagine transformed social relationships.
Activity 16.8
Transformed rights are conceptualised as immunity rights, destabilisation rights and
solidarity rights. Destabilisation rights would accompany immunity rights. The former
would protect individuals or groups against applications of governmental power
and against any form of exclusion from public decision-making. Immunity rights
would also guarantee an adequate amount of welfare protection. Destabilisation
rights would be dedicated to the breaking down of hierarchies of power. Alongside
destabilisation rights, solidarity rights would ‘give legal form to social relations of
reliance and trust’. Unger argues that this developed notion of rights would offer a
greater chance for a form of social organisation where equality is achieved through
the breaking down of inequitable holdings of wealth and rigid hierarchies.
Activity 16.9
Rights are to be rethought, and not necessarily co-opted into the protection of profits
in the new world order. Rights can be used to protect the essential dignity of the
human being, but this may mean looking outside the traditional catalogue of rights to
social and economic rights, like the right to work. How can this be linked with a theory
of justice? Justice is based on the notion that the other should not be reduced to the
same; the other must be understood in her essential otherness. Justice must therefore
be based on a principle of difference, that acknowledges the dignity of specific others.
This is a theory of justice that would be critical of utilitarian approaches that believe
that there is a universal calculus for approaching the idea of justice. Justice always
demands a specific response.
Activity 16.10
South African scholars have turned to CLS to provide a critique of the apartheid legal
order. They are sceptical of the idea that law can provide a community of South
Africans, and are searching for a way of thinking about society in a way that does not
reduce to the differences of those who make up society to a single identity. In so doing
they have added to the CLS thematic, by providing a study of the TRC that sees it as
marking the transition from the old to the new South Africa, and suggesting that much
needs to be done to create an equitable and fair society.
Chapter 17
Activity 17.1
a. CRT is rooted in the experience of slavery. From the drafting of the constitution
in 1787 to include the preservation of slavery, to the Hayes–Tilden Compromise
of 1877, the right to property has been raised above that of black freedom. Even
though it is claimed that the American Civil War was fought to free the slaves, the
post-war reconstruction did not end racial discrimination. CRT also comes out of
the civil liberties struggles of the 1960s.
b. CRT scholars are sceptical because, despite the fact that the movement did
achieve certain advances, it had too much faith in progress; and did not alter
the fundamental reasons for discrimination in the United States. Moreover, by
concentrating on fighting test cases, the fundamental structures of racism were
left in place. We will examine this theme in more detail below.
c. In Bakke, the court employed a very narrow definition of equality, and refused
to take account of the social and economic causes of disadvantage. The court
held that no white students could be refused entrance in preference to black
candidates.
Activity 17.2
a. If discrimination is positional, litigating individual cases tends to individualise
discrimination into a series of disputes, and avoids the more structured sense
in which discrimination results from an inter-relation of disadvantage. Consider
notions of causation and fault, for instance. The effect of these notions is to
remove any sense of collective responsibility for discrimination, by focusing on the
construction of the discrimination event that is being heard by the court.
b. There are problems. Such a shift would be challenging not only to the legal
construction of responsibility as individual fault, but risks antagonising a majority
who are reluctant or unwilling to perceive their own complicity in discrimination.
Activity 17.3
a. Ideology describes a way in which the material conditions of life are perceived and
refracted by the dominant and socially powerful beliefs, ideas, understandings and
practices. CRT builds on CLS accounts of ideology. However, the central problem is
that CLS accounts completely ignore the importance of race in ideology. For CRT,
ideology, is expressed through ‘race consciousness’ and impacts upon both black
subordination, and ‘the white hierarchy and their identity with elite interests’. In
other words, something unites whites across boundaries of class or gender, and
that is race. Ideology, in this sense, operates to create a ‘hegemony’ of interests.
This process is ongoing, dynamic and changes its arguments over time. The
removal of the more obvious aspects of discrimination does not mean that this
hegemony has been broken, and that discrimination will disappear.
b. We must not lose sight of the transformative potential of the law. Civil liberties law
can make meaningful interventions in social institutions. Moreover, the use of the
law has served to de-legitimise discrimination at an ideological level.
Activity 17.4
The primary response was the perceived need to stem immigration. The 1962
Commonwealth Immigrants Act attempted to reduce immigration through issuing
employment vouchers. Underlying the Act was the notion of ‘belonging’ that was
defined as having a link with Britain either through being born in the country or having
a passport issued there. The motives behind the second Commonwealth Immigration
Act 1968 was an attempt to create an even tighter legal definition of British nationality.
The 1971 Immigration Act was largely informed by the ‘separate spheres’ concept of
nationality. It gave legislative form to overtly discriminatory practices that had long
been in operation, by dividing British subjects into ‘patrials’ and ‘non-patrials’, non-
patrials being so deprived of rights of settlement and to work as to be ‘virtually aliens’.
The 1981 British Nationality Act provides a further attempt to control immigration.
The definition of nationality was divided into British Citizenship, British Dependent
Territories Citizenship and British Overseas Citizenship. These classifications and the
hierarchy of rights they reflected were predicated on notions of descendance and
familiarity, that themselves depended on a grounding notion of Britishness exclusive
to any broader notion of belonging in the Commonwealth.
Activity 17.5
The 1965 Act was a limited measure, creating a criminal offence of incitement to
racial hatred and an overseeing body, the Race Relations Board, which lacked basic
powers to call for witnesses and documents. The emphasis was on conciliation; only
if conciliation failed could the Board refer the case to the Attorney General who
may or may not chose to litigate. The 1968 Act extended the provisions of the 1965
Act. It made discrimination in housing and employment subject to civil remedies.
Discrimination was defined as less favourable treatment on the grounds of colour, race
or ethnic or national origins. The Race Relation Board’s conciliatory role remained,
but the Board was now empowered to litigate cases in the county court (McCrudden
et al., 1991). Created alongside the Board was a new body, the Community Relations
Commission, that was to sponsor ‘harmonious community relations’. There was a
slightly different procedure for employment discrimination cases that stressed that
they should be resolved by the employer/union bodies. Only if a relevant body did not
exist, or a case was appealed, would the Board become involved). The 1968 Act was
as flawed as its predecessor: ‘as most of it was orientated towards individual forms of
behaviour it failed to generate resources needed to implement effective programmes’
(Small, 1994, p. 165).
Activity 17.6
a. We can modify Von Albertini’s definition. Colonialism was foreign rule. In order to
be effective, it was necessary to end or neutralise opposition, and to make possible
European activity in the colony. The three phases of colonialism can be broadly
represented as beginning with the first attempts to exploit the resources and
manpower of Africa by European powers. This phase moves into a later phase in
the nineteenth century, where direct appropriation was replaced by a regime of
treatise and trading agreements. The third movement is that of the more formal
colonial rule of the later 1900s; this latter phase could also be seen as concluded,
or redefined, by the withdrawal from empire and the independence of the new
African states.
b. Although the law is a vehicle for the legitimisation of European rule, it is also
became the site of struggle and resistance. In the moment of independence, law
is used to define national identity. As an independent nation must be claim its
own legal and political sovereignty, law becomes necessary to the definition of the
post-colonial identity of the new nation states after the withdrawal of the colonial
power.

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Jurisprudence and

uu Dr Adam Gearey, Senior Lecturer in Law, Birkbeck College, University of London.

uu James Penner, Reader in Law, London School of Economics.

uu Professor Wayne Morrison, Queen Mary College, University of London.

The 2016 updates were prepared by:

uu Dr Andrea Dolcetti, DPhil, Law Lecturer, St Hilda’s College, Oxford.

uu Dr Emmanuel Melissaris, Associate Professor of Law, London School of Economics.

The 2017 updates were prepared by:

uu Professor Jill Marshall, Professor of Law, University of Leicester.

University of London International Programmes

Published by: University of London

© University of London 2004

2 The nature of jurisprudence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13

3 Imperative or command theories of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21

4 Classical and modern natural law theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51

5 Introduction to Hart’s The concept of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65

6 A master rule for law: Hart’s rule of recognition . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81

7 Hart’s defences against natural law and Fuller’s criticism . . . . . . . . 93

8 Raz on practical reason and the authority of law . . . . . . . . . . . . 103

9 Practical reason and law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115

10 Kelsen’s theory of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 131

11 The integrity and interpretation of law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147

11.8 Dworkin on Hart’s Postscript . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158

12 Social theory and law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 165

13 Marx, Marxism and Marxist legal theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 185

14 Liberalism and law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 201

15 Feminist legal theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213

16 Critical legal studies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231

17 Critical race theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 247

Feedback to activities . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263

Courses on which this module is offered

Notional Study Time

MODULE PURPOSE AND OVERVIEW

LEARNING OUTCOMES: KNOWLEDGE

2. Understanding of a range of topics and debates in legal and political philosophy

LEARNING OUTCOMES: SKILLS

3. Construct philosophical argument;

5. Apply abstract philosophical argument to real problems and contexts;

6. Present a sustained and well-constructed argument orally and in written form.

BENCHMARK FOR LEARNING OUTCOMES

(e) Liberalism and law.

(f) Marxist theories of law and state.

(g) Feminist jurisprudence.

LEARNING AND TEACHING

The Laws Virtual Learning Environment

uu a complete version of the module guides;

uu online audio presentations;

uu past examination papers and reports;

uu Computer Marked Assessments – multiple choice questions with feedback

The Online Library

uu the professional legal databases LexisLibrary and Westlaw;

uu cases and up-to-date statutes;

uu key academic law journals;

uu links to important websites.

¢¢ Freeman, M. (ed.) Lloyd’s introduction to jurisprudence. (London: Sweet &

¢¢ Penner, J. and E. Melissaris, McCoubrey and White’s textbook on jurisprudence.

¢¢ Hart, H. Essays in jurisprudence and philosophy. (Oxford: Oxford University Press,

¢¢ Morrison, W. Jurisprudence: from the Greeks to post-modernism. (London:

¢¢ Simmonds, N. Central issues in jurisprudence: justice, law and rights. (London:

Summative assessment is through a three hour and fifteen minute unseen

1.1 How to study jurisprudence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3

1.3 Preparing for an examination in jurisprudence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8

Reflect and review . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12

Learning outcomes for this Introduction