Skip to main content Accessibility help
×
Hostname: page-component-586b7cd67f-t7fkt Total loading time: 0 Render date: 2024-11-23T22:54:56.303Z Has data issue: false hasContentIssue false

Part II - International Law and Its Interfaces

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  29 October 2021

Nico Krisch
Affiliation:
Graduate Institute of International and Development Studies, Geneva

Summary

Type
Chapter
Information
Publisher: Cambridge University Press
Print publication year: 2021
Creative Commons
Creative Common License - CCCreative Common License - BYCreative Common License - NCCreative Common License - ND
This content is Open Access and distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution licence CC-BY-NC-ND 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/cclicenses/

6 Giving Due Consideration A Normative Pathway between UN Human Rights Treaty-Monitoring Bodies and Domestic Courts

Machiko Kanetake
6.1 Introduction

Human rights law is one of the fields of law that creates the subject matter overlap between international and domestic law. Human rights treaties purport to regulate the governmental authority exercised over individuals, which is, in parallel, regulated by domestic constitutional and administrative law. This overlap creates the deliberative space between human rights treaty-monitoring bodies and national authorities, including domestic courts. In fact, judicial decisions can be at times ‘entangled’ with the findings of UN human rights treaty-monitoring bodies. Domestic courts take note, discuss, accept or resist decisions, comments or observations of UN human rights treaty-monitoring bodies. The quality of such a deliberative space is crucial for the effectiveness of the treaty-monitoring bodies, whose findings ultimately aim at bringing about change to domestic legal frameworks and practices, including those of the judiciary.

Against this background, this chapter engages in the analysis of pathways that guide the deliberative space involving UN human rights treaty-monitoring bodies and domestic courts. Such pathways can be pragmatic or sociological in nature. For instance, the unavailability of treaty body findings in local languages significantly limits public knowledge about them and the likelihood that litigant parties rely on general comments and other treaty body findings. Interactions can be facilitated if judges periodically receive training regarding the work of the monitoring bodies. At the same time, domestic judges’ interactions with treaty body findings have also been guided by normative pathways. They can originate in both international and national law. In limited circumstances, such pathways exhibit a formalistic character that Views, one of the categories of the documents produced by treaty bodies, have legal binding force. Yet it is usually the case that normative pathways are much less dichotomous.

This chapter examines one of such normative pathways, namely that state parties ought to give due consideration to the findings of UN human rights treaty-monitoring bodies. The legal basis of such a duty to consider remains contested. Furthermore, the duty to consider is necessarily precarious, inasmuch as its effectiveness depends on how precisely consideration is given by judges in a particular case. Nevertheless, the duty to consider – and its normative variations, as will be discussed in this chapter – occasionally appears in the reasoning of domestic courts whose narrative is entangled with treaty interpretation by UN human rights-monitoring bodies.

The chapter starts by outlining the different types of the findings of the monitoring bodies (Section 6.2). Domestic courts’ engagement varies depending on states, courts and judges. The limited research I have conductedFootnote 1 demonstrates a great deal of variance with regard to domestic courts’ explicit engagement with the monitoring bodies. Domestic judges may not be aware of the relevant documents; and even if they are, they may reject the judicial relevance of such documents (Section 6.3). At the same time, there are a number of domestic court decisions that have explicitly invoked treaty body findings (Section 6.4). What matters for the sake of this chapter is that judicial engagement can be guided by the duty to consider and its variations (Sections 6.4 and 6.5). These pathways serve as ‘interface norms’ that facilitate ties yet preserve discretion on the part of domestic courts.Footnote 2 Under limited circumstances, the duty to consider may even be understood as entailing an obligation to give effect to Views (Section 6.6). The duty to consider may not be a robust normative path. Yet it can still pave the way for a sustainable and forward-looking deliberative space, by creating the opportunities for learning and self-reflection for domestic courts and the international guardians.

6.2 Measuring the Domestic Relevance of the ‘Jurisprudence’ of the Monitoring Bodies

UN human rights treaty-monitoring bodies are part of the institutional arrangements at the international level that assist states’ implementation of nine core human rights treaties. There are ten bodies tasked with monitoring the implementation of the treaties, namely: (1) Human Rights Committee (HRC), (2) Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (CESCR), (3) Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination (CERD), (4) Committee on the Elimination of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW), (5) Committee Against Torture (CAT), (6) Subcommittee on Prevention of Torture, (7) Committee on the Rights of the Child (CRC), (8) Committee on Migrant Workers (CMW), (9) Committee on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (CRPD), and (10) Committee on Enforced Disappearances (CED). These committees have been adjusting their working methods towards better harmonization, particularly in response to the UN General Assembly’s resolution 68/268 of 2014.Footnote 3

The ten bodies issue a wide range of documents (which are generally termed ‘findings’ in this chapter). They can be categorized into three types:Footnote 4 (1) General Comments and Recommendations, which are addressed to all state parties; (2) Concluding Observations and Concluding Comments, which are addressed to a particular state party; and (3) Views (or Decisions) and Suggestions and Recommendations, which pertain to individual communications or petitions.Footnote 5 There are eight treaty bodies that are competent to receive and consider petitions from individuals.Footnote 6 By mobilizing the limited staff resources, the committees adopted 250 decisions on individual communications per year during 2018–19, for instance.Footnote 7 In some of those decisions, the committees found breaches of treaty obligations. Between 1977 and March 2019, the HRC found violations of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) in 1,157 Views.Footnote 8 The adoption of Views is in addition to thirty-six General Comments adopted by the HRC between 1981 and 2018, accompanied by numerous state-specific observations.

The crux is that these different types of findings are cross-referenced with one another, which internally strengthens each body’s treaty interpretation.Footnote 9 Just to provide one specific example, in its Concluding Observations addressed to the Netherlands in 2016, the CEDAW urged the state party to implement its earlier Views, by further indicating that the state’s non-implementation of the Views is inconsistent with the CEDAW’s General Recommendation No. 33 on women’s access to justice.Footnote 10 By cross-referencing its own documents, each treaty body creates what the International Court of Justice (ICJ) termed ‘jurisprudence’ in para. 66 of the Diallo case (2010)Footnote 11 – although, I must add, the use of such a juridical vocabulary depends on how one appreciates the functions of the treaty-monitoring bodies.

Para. 66 of the Diallo case is crucial in that the ICJ commented on the normative relevance of the HRC’s treaty interpretation. The court observed that the HRC has ‘built up a considerable body of interpretive case law’ through Views and General Comments.Footnote 12 Having reiterated the formalistic starting point that the court is ‘in no way obliged’ to follow the interpretation of the HRC, the court continued by saying that it ‘should ascribe great weight to the interpretation’ of the HRC.Footnote 13 The Diallo case was not the first occasion on which the ICJ had resorted to the position of the HRC.Footnote 14 Yet the remark of the court in Diallo was noteworthy, in that the court elucidated the normative ‘weight’ to be given to the HRC’s interpretation. This does not mean that the ICJ is consistent in terms of its willingness to substantively engage with UN human rights treaty-monitoring bodies. In the Obligation to Prosecute or Extradite (Belgium v. Senegal) case (2012), the ICJ took a rather dismissive attitude towards the CAT’s treaty interpretation.Footnote 15

Methodologically, it is hard to assess the extent to which treaty body findings alter domestic legal practices. The international bodies’ interpretation can influence legal discourse indirectly and over a long period of time. That said, one form of assessment is to measure the level of compliance. Some treaty-monitoring bodies indicate the level of satisfactory follow-up by states parties to the outcomes of individual communications. For example, the CAT’s report of May 2017 shows that 42 per cent of its communications (55 out of 131), in which the CAT found violations, resulted in satisfactory or partially satisfactory outcomes.Footnote 16

Yet this chapter’s focus is not on assessing general rates of compliance. Instead, the chapter analyses the explicit reference to treaty body findings in judicial reasoning. The cases I examine are therefore inclusive of, but not limited to, the case-specific responses to Views. This wider coverage is appropriate and necessary, precisely because the chapter’s focus is on the judiciary, as opposed to other branches of the government. As I further explain in Section 6.3, domestic courts play a relatively limited role in providing case-specific responses to Views. The principle of res judicata often prevents judges from reopening cases at the domestic level. National courts may be able to give effect to Views if there are any relevant pieces of domestic law that allow judges to reopen a case.Footnote 17 Illustrative in this regard is a Norwegian example. By the Act of 15 June 2001 No. 63 which amended the Criminal Procedure and the Civil Procedure Acts, Norway allowed the reopening of cases following the findings of the monitoring body.Footnote 18 While the Norwegian initiatives have been welcomed by the HRC,Footnote 19 few countries seem to have followed the same path that systematically allows the reopening of proceedings. This means that the case-specific responses to Views primarily depend on the willingness of the executive and legislative branches of the government.Footnote 20

6.3 Judicial Non-engagement
6.3.1 Domestic Courts’ Practices

As noted in Section 6.2, while the monitoring bodies adopt a number of general and country-specific findings, their practical relevance ultimately relies upon domestic acceptance. While it is methodologically challenging to have an overview of the practices of national courts’ engagement with the monitoring bodies, the analysis of judicial decisions I have conductedFootnote 21 provides some ideas about the patterns of engagement. To begin with, the pronouncement of the monitoring bodies has not been used as an independent and free-standing basis for the final decisions of domestic courts. Namely, Views, and much less General Comments and Concluding Observations, do not serve as the basis on which domestic courts decide the wrongfulness of acts or the legality of law.

In light of this, attempts to construe Views as an autonomous legal basis for judicial decisions have met with rejection.Footnote 22 Illustrative in this regard is the Irish Supreme Court’s decision in Kavanagh v. Governor of Mountjoy Prison (2002),Footnote 23 forming a part of the case-specific response to the HRC’s Views in which Ireland was found in breach of Article 26 of the ICCPR on equality before the law.Footnote 24 While the Irish Supreme Court’s rejection was based on the constitutional ground that justice ought to be administered by properly constituted courts,Footnote 25 the court also commented on the absence of international legal grounds. According to the Irish court, ‘[n]either the Covenant nor the Protocol at any point purports to give any binding effect to the views expressed by the Committee’ which, as the Supreme Court reiterated, ‘does not formulate any form of judgment or declare any entitlement to relief’.Footnote 26

In a similar vein, another noteworthy case is Wilson v. Ermita (2016) before the Supreme Court of the Philippines.Footnote 27 In 1998, Wilson, a British national, was convicted of the crime of rape and sentenced to death. Before his conviction was set aside by the Supreme Court in 1999,Footnote 28 Wilson submitted the communication to the HRC, which eventually rendered its Views in 2003.Footnote 29 According to the HRC, the conditions under which Wilson was arrested, detained and imprisoned infringed several provisions of the ICCPR, including Article 7 on the prohibition of torture, or other cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment.Footnote 30 The HRC observed that the Philippines should provide compensation for Wilson.Footnote 31 He then filed a petition for mandamus before the Supreme Court of the Philippines, arguing that the government is obliged to enforce the Views as part of its duties under international law.Footnote 32 The Supreme Court dismissed Wilson’s claim. While the court’s rejection was based primarily on the lack of domestic effect of treaties,Footnote 33 the Supreme Court made remarks on the characteristics of Views. According to the court, nowhere in the ICCPR does it state that Views formed part of the treaty.Footnote 34

The court’s conclusion in Wilson v. Ermita is nothing new. Noteworthy still, however, is that the Supreme Court of the Philippines invoked the HRC’s General Comment No. 33 in the course of denying the applicability of Views to case-specific judicial responses. In General Comment No. 33 (advanced unedited version of November 2008), the HRC regarded its Views as exhibiting ‘some important characteristics of a judicial decision’.Footnote 35 The Supreme Court quoted this phrase, observing that the HRC’s Views ‘only displays “important characteristics of a judicial decision”’.Footnote 36 According to the court, the Views are thus ‘mere recommendations to guide the State it is issued against’.Footnote 37 While the Supreme Court of the Philippines at least engaged with the narrative of General Comment No. 33, the court’s use of the finding was rather ironic. Judges used it in order to dismiss, as opposed to augment, the judicial relevance of the Views of the HRC.

These examples again remind us of the structurally limited role of the judiciary in providing case-specific follow-up.Footnote 38 Yet even outside case-specific circumstances, some domestic courts have much more ‘distanced relations’Footnote 39 with UN treaty-monitoring bodies and have taken a dismissive attitude towards the relevance of their treaty interpretation.Footnote 40 In some countries, judicial narrative accommodates little or no reference to treaty body findings. While the International Law Association’s (ILA) Committee on International Human Rights Law and Practice (1997–2008) conducted extensive studies on judicial practices, the study could not specifically identify judicial references to the monitoring bodies in, among others, the countries of Francophone Africa or the Arab region. According to the 2004 Berlin report of the ILA Committee, there were no identifiable judicial practices in Bulgaria, Jordan, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Colombia, Ecuador, Chile, Argentina, Malaysia, Singapore or Brunei.Footnote 41 The absence of explicit reference is also evident in French courts. A study of French courts’ practices suggests that not only judges, but also the litigants themselves rarely refer to the monitoring bodies’ findings.Footnote 42

6.3.2 International Legal Justification for Non-engagement

There are, no doubt, country-specific backgrounds that sustain and justify no or very limited judicial engagement with the findings of the monitoring bodies.Footnote 43 Judges’ strong loyalty to the separation of powers, for instance, may sustain distanced relations with formally non-binding international documents.Footnote 44 What should be remembered, however, is that non-engagement can be explained and justified, not only by domestic specificities, but also by international law. A regularly invoked ground in this regard is the formalistic narrative that treaty body findings lack legal binding force. As a matter of formal status, it is hard to deny that Views themselves are not binding under international law.Footnote 45 States generally consider that the HRC’s Views, as well as interim measures, are non-binding under international law.Footnote 46 The lack of binding force is even more evident with regard to General Comments and Concluding Observations.

The legal status of the findings themselves does not speak of the status of the content of the committees’ findings. States, and indirectly their courts, are obliged to give effect to the substance of the findings of the treaty-monitoring bodies, if it reflects established treaty obligations. The content of General Comments and Views may reflect ‘subsequent practice in the application of the treaty which establishes the agreement of the parties regarding its interpretation’.Footnote 47 While, in principle, ‘subsequent practice’ is not equated with the institutional practices of the monitoring bodies themselves, the monitoring bodies’ findings can facilitate an interpretation accepted by states parties which may support or acquiesce to the observations of the monitoring bodies,Footnote 48 even though caution should be exercised.

Despite the content-based obligation on the part of states parties, the rule of treaty interpretation is so flexible that domestic courts can readily argue that the monitoring bodies’ interpretation does not reflect ‘subsequent practice’. The flexibility is preserved by the International Law Commission (ILC), which adopted, in 2018, a set of draft conclusions on ‘subsequent agreements and subsequent practice in relation to the interpretation of treaties’.Footnote 49 In the draft conclusions, the ILC reiterated that a pronouncement of ‘expert treaty bodies’, such as UN human rights treaty-monitoring bodies,Footnote 50 ‘may’ give rise to, or refer to, a ‘subsequent agreement or subsequent practice by parties’ under Article 31(3) of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties.Footnote 51 The draft conclusions, however, warned that ‘[s]ilence by a party shall not be presumed to constitute subsequent practice’ under Article 31(3)(b) of the Vienna Convention.Footnote 52 As the ILC acknowledges, ‘it cannot usually be expected that States parties take a position with respect to every pronouncement by an expert treaty body, be it addressed to another State or to all States generally’.Footnote 53 While this caution against the misinterpretation of silence by states parties makes pragmatic sense, the ILC’s work did not elaborate upon possible indicators with which to assess whether the pronouncement of UN human rights treaty-monitoring bodies reflects established treaty interpretation. Overall, the ILC’s work preserved the flexibility – and associated uncertainty – inherent in Article 31(3)(b) of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, which, in the context of the theme of this chapter, effectively leaves ample space for domestic courts to reject the obligatory nature of the specific content of the findings.

6.4 Judicial Engagement
6.4.1 Domestic Courts’ Practices

While the lack of legally binding force may serve as a justification for non-engagement, some other domestic courts have shown greater willingness to refer explicitly to treaty body findings. General Comments, Concluding Observations and Views can be invoked to interpret the terms of relevant human rights treaties, which may ultimately be used to inform the construction of domestic (constitutional) provisions regarding fundamental rights. Admittedly, judges tend to be less hesitant in referring to treaty body findings in such countries as Canada, the UK, New Zealand and possibly some other common law countries.Footnote 54 Yet judicial proximity to treaty body findings is by no means limited to jurisdictions with common law traditions.

There are abundant examples of judicial interpretive engagement.Footnote 55 Among many others, for instance, the Israeli Supreme Court in Kav Laoved v. Interior Ministry (2011), in denying the constitutionality of the country’s work permit procedure designed for female migrant workers, consulted the CEDAW’s General Recommendations 21 (on equality in marriage and family relations) and 26 (on women migrant workers), as well as the CERD’s General Recommendation 30 (on discrimination against non-citizens).Footnote 56 Likewise, the Israeli Supreme Court in Adam v. Knesset (2014) invoked the Views of the HRC in order to interpret the scope of arbitrary arrest and detention under the ICCPR, which served ultimately to decide upon the constitutionality of domestic legislation.Footnote 57

In a similar vein, the Federal Court of Australia in Iliafi v. The Church of Jesus Christ and the Latter-Day Saints Australia (2014) resorted to several findings of the monitoring bodies: General Recommendation No. 20 of the CERD,Footnote 58 the HRC’s General Comments Nos. 22 (on the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion) and 23 (on the rights of minorities),Footnote 59 and the jurisprudence of the HRC formulated through its Views.Footnote 60 These documents were mentioned by the Australian court in order to interpret the Racial Discrimination Convention and the ICCPR,Footnote 61 and, ultimately, to construe the Racial Discrimination Act 1975 of Australia.Footnote 62 Interestingly, the Federal Court of Australia cited para. 66 of the ICJ’s decision in Diallo, as well as Article 38(1)(d) of the ICJ Statute, in consulting the CERD’s General Recommendation No. 20.Footnote 63 Yet the court did not specify whether it intended to ascribe, as the ICJ did in paragraph 66 of Diallo, ‘great weight’ to the interpretation of the monitoring bodies.Footnote 64

While there are abundant examples of judicial reference, the extent of substantive engagement varies depending on courts and judges. Illustrative in this regard is the comparison between UK and Canadian courts in a series of decisions concerning the interpretation of Article 14(1) of the Torture Convention.Footnote 65 Both UK and Canadian courts disagreed with the CAT’s interpretation of the provision that a civil remedy ought to be made available for all acts of torture, including those committed outside the forum state,Footnote 66 by limiting the scope of state immunity.Footnote 67

While both UK and Canadian courts disagreed with the CAT’s treaty interpretation, there were differences in terms of the extent to which courts substantively engaged with the CAT’s position. In the House of Lords, judges rather summarily dismissed the relevance the CAT in Jones v. Saudi Arabia (2006).Footnote 68 Lord Bingham noted that ‘[w]hatever its value in influencing the trend of international thinking, the legal authority of the Committee’s recommendation is slight’.Footnote 69 In a similar vein, Lord Hoffmann found ‘no value’ in the Committee’s position.Footnote 70 The disagreement of UK judges in Jones was referred to by the Canadian Supreme Court in Kazemi (Estate) v. Iran (2014).Footnote 71 The Canadian court, however, while disagreeing with the CAT’s interpretation, took a few more steps to provide substantive explanations as to why judges did not agree with the CAT’s interpretation.

In Kazemi, the Canadian Supreme Court admitted that ‘the Committee’s comments may be helpful for purposes of interpretation’,Footnote 72 by referring to its earlier decision in Suresh (2002) where the Supreme Court had consulted the CAT’s position.Footnote 73 Yet the majority of the Canadian Supreme Court noted that the Committee’s comments, ‘despite their importance’, ‘should not be given greater weight than the pronouncements of states parties and judicial authorities’.Footnote 74 The court observed that the CAT’s comments ‘do not override adjudicative interpretations’, such as those seen in Jones.Footnote 75 ‘At best’, according to the highest court of Canada, the CAT’s comments ‘form part of a dialogue within the international community where no consensus has yet developed’ on treaty interpretation.Footnote 76 The majority’s treatment of the CAT’s remarks is contrasted with the narrative of Justice Abella in dissent. She observed that the CAT’s ‘expertise lends support to the weight of its interpretation’,Footnote 77 referring to the fact that the Committee had made critical remarks on Canadian legal practices.Footnote 78 The narrative of the Canadian court was noteworthy in that the court explained how much weight it should give to the CAT’s treaty interpretation. While judges in the majority substantively engaged with the CAT’s position, the Supreme Court, at least in this specific case, regarded it as merely one of the opinions that the court may take into account.

6.4.2 Normative Pathway: Authorization to Consider

Domestic courts’ discretionary reference to treaty body findings is no doubt conditioned by domestic sociological and legal contexts. At the same time, it must be once again noted that international law also explains and justifies domestic courts’ discretionary engagement. Namely, states, and indirectly their courts, may consider the findings of UN human rights treaty-monitoring bodies as part of ‘supplementary means of interpretation’ under Article 32 of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties.Footnote 79

In fact, Article 32 of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties has been mentioned by domestic courts in consulting treaty body findings. For example, in Minister for Immigration and Citizenship v. Anochie (2012)Footnote 80 before the Federal Court of Australia, the judge consulted the HRC’s Views and General Comments Nos. 15 (on the position of aliens) and 31 (on the nature of the general obligation)Footnote 81 in the process of interpreting Australia’s non-refoulement obligations. The Federal Court explicitly elaborated upon the question of what materials the court may consult in interpreting the ICCPR.Footnote 82 The judge accepted, ‘upon reflection’, that ‘the Committee’s interpretation of the ICCPR is admissible’ in court for the interpretation of the treaty.Footnote 83 The Federal Court suggested that its recourse to the HRC’s interpretation was justified by Article 40(4) of the ICCPR and Article 1 of the Optional Protocol.Footnote 84 Article 40(4) serves as a legal basis for the HRC to issue General Comments,Footnote 85 while Article 1 of the Optional Protocol empowers the Committee to receive and consider individual communications.Footnote 86 On this basis, according to the Federal Court, the Committee’s Views and General Comments form part of ‘supplementary means of interpretation’ (under Article 32 of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties).Footnote 87 Equally, the Views and General Comments serve as ‘subsidiary means for the determination of rules of law’ (under Article 38(1)(d) of the Statute of the International Court of Justice).Footnote 88

The characterization of treaty body findings as part of supplementary means leaves states (and their courts) to decide whether to consider a particular finding of the committees and how much weight states give to the committees’ interpretation. In the aforementioned Anochie, the Australian court noted that, given that the members of the HRC were supposed to be ‘persons of high moral character and recognized competence in the field of human rights’,Footnote 89 the HRC’s output may form part of the ‘teachings of the most highly qualified publicists’ under Article 38(1)(d) of the ICJ Statute.Footnote 90 On this basis, the Federal Court quoted para. 66 of the ICJ’s judgement in Diallo, in which the ICJ found that it ‘should ascribe great weight’ to the interpretation of the Committee.Footnote 91

6.5 Beyond Discretionary Judicial Engagement
6.5.1 Domestic Courts’ Practices

As noted in Section 6.4, states, and indirectly their courts, are authorized under international law to consider the findings of UN human rights treaty-monitoring bodies. At the same time, the survey of domestic court decisionsFootnote 92 indicates the existence of normative expectations beyond mere discretionary consideration. Some courts referred to a normative expectation to consider, both in and outside the context of case-specific responses to Views on individual communications.

For instance, in the Jamaican case of Lewis (2000),Footnote 93 the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council observed that the HRC’s Views should be considered in case-specific contexts. The Lewis case involved appellants who had been sentenced to death by the Jamaican courts and had petitioned the HRC. According to the Privy Council, ‘[w]hen the report of the international human rights bodies is available that should be considered and if the Jamaican Privy Council do [sic] not accept it [then] they should explain why’.Footnote 94 This observation is significant, in that the Privy Council found it necessary, not merely to consider Views, but also to provide explanation in case of disagreement. The Dutch Administrative High Court in its decision of July 2006 seems to have given an even stronger assertion in favour of Views. The Court regarded the Views of the HRC as non-binding, yet still ‘authoritative’, and noted that national courts could only deviate from the Views if justified by ‘compelling reasons’.Footnote 95

These instances of judicial respect for Views do not alter the fact that domestic courts have a limited role in taking case-specific follow-up measures.Footnote 96 In this sense, it is much more relevant to see how domestic courts navigate their pathways to the monitoring bodies outside case-specific contexts. Some judges were willing to indicate the existence of normative expectations – if not a strict obligation – for domestic courts to engage with the monitoring bodies’ interpretation when the courts interpret relevant treaty provisions. For instance, the Colombian Constitutional Court in 2004 characterized the CESCR as an ‘authorized interpreter’ of the Covenant.Footnote 97 In the Test Trial Fund Clara Wichmann case of 2005, the Dutch court noted that the CEDAW is empowered to issue General Recommendations and that such Recommendations should be taken into account in the context of interpreting the Convention.Footnote 98 In 2007, the Belize Supreme Court in the case of Cal noted that, given Belize’s commitments under the Racial Discrimination Convention, the government ‘should take this communication [country-specific Correspondence] seriously and respond accordingly’.Footnote 99

Another noteworthy example is the German Federal Constitutional Court’s engagement with the CRPD’s Concluding Observations and General Comments in the Order of 26 July 2016.Footnote 100 The case involved the provision of medical treatment to a woman against her natural will in circumstances where she suffered from mental and physical illnesses and was deemed unable to provide consent. The Federal Constitutional Court obliged the legislature to enact laws to allow coercive medical treatment in such cases. In holding that coercive treatment was compatible with the Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities, the German court effectively disagreed with the CRPD’s General Comment No. 1, Concluding Observations on Germany, and Guidelines on Article 14, in which the CRPD had criticized the practices of custodianship and forced treatment for failing to respect disabled persons’ autonomy and will.Footnote 101 According to the Constitutional Court, these CRPD documents do not address the critical scenario involving persons who cannot form a free will.Footnote 102 While the German Federal Constitutional Court took a critical look at the CRPD’s observations, the court substantively engaged with the Committee’s position. Furthermore, the court notably observed that a national court, although it is not obliged to follow the CRPD,Footnote 103 should deal with the CRPD’s opinions ‘in an argumentative way and in good faith’Footnote 104 – as the German court seems to have done in this specific instance.

6.5.2 Normative Pathway: An Obligation to Consider and Its Variations

The aforementioned judicial narratives – such as those in Test Trial Fund Clara Wichmann in the Netherlands, Cal in Belize and the Order of 26 July 2016 in Germany – are nuanced. By no means do they elucidate an obligation to consider or give due consideration to certain types of findings. Yet the courts’ nuanced position ought to be understood in light of some of the limitations extant at the national level for domestic courts vis-à-vis legislative and executive bodies.Footnote 105 Normative expectations expressed by judges cannot be separate from a contested obligation to consider, incumbent on states parties themselves. In discussing such an obligation, it is necessary to distinguish different types of treaty body findings.

6.5.2.1 Case-Specific Responses to Views

With regard to the case-specific responses to Views, it is hard to deny the existence, under international law, of such an obligation to consider. In fact, some treaties explicitly provide such an obligation. With regard to the CEDAW, Article 7(4) of the Optional Protocol obliges a state party to ‘give due consideration to the views of the Committee’ and to submit within six months the state’s follow-up action.Footnote 106 These dual obligations (to give due consideration and to provide information on follow-up action) are also explicitly laid down in regard to the Views of the CESCRFootnote 107 and the CRC.Footnote 108

The language is less explicit when it comes to the HRC. Yet the ICCPR’s Optional Protocol, adopted in 1966, at least obliges a state party to submit information in response to the Views.Footnote 109 On top of the explicit requirement, there is an obligation to cooperate with a committee, which is applicable to all the monitoring bodies, including the HRC. Such an obligation is based on the general obligation to perform a treaty in good faith, under Article 26 of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties,Footnote 110 accompanied by states parties’ recognition of the competence of the committees under relevant human rights treaties. While the meaning of ‘good faith’ is no doubt contextual,Footnote 111 the good faith obligation has been understood as an obligation to cooperate with the committees, as the HRC remarked in General Comment No. 33.Footnote 112 Cooperation does not amount to require compliance; yet a state party may be acting in bad faith towards its treaty commitment if frequent non-compliance is combined with the failure to attempt to seriously engage with Views.Footnote 113

It is readily possible to find statements by states parties that they owe an obligation to take into account the Views addressed to them.Footnote 114 Iceland, for instance, expressed its position in a series of actions following the HRC’s Views in Haraldsson et al. v. Iceland in October 2007 regarding the fisheries management system.Footnote 115 According to the Icelandic government, Iceland ‘elected to become a party’ to the Optional Protocol to the ICCPR, ‘thereby recognising the competence of the Human Rights Committee to decide whether there has been a violation of the provisions of the Covenant or not’.Footnote 116 On this basis, Iceland noted that it is ‘therefore required by international law to address the conclusions of the Committee’.Footnote 117 Not surprisingly, the government still preserved the space for discretion, adding that the Views in question were not detailed enough. According to Iceland, the Views ‘do not include a summarized conclusion in the form of an adjudication, but a general discussion’ without ‘detailed guidance as to the precise measures required’.Footnote 118 In short, Iceland is acknowledging an obligation to consider and respond to Views, while, at the same time, characterizing them as ‘a general discussion’.Footnote 119

There are also some influential academic writings that support the existence of the obligation to consider with regard to states parties’ case-specific responses to Views. Tomuschat articulated that ‘States Parties cannot simply ignore’ the Views of the HRC, despite the fact that they lack legally binding force.Footnote 120 States parties ‘have to consider’ the Views ‘in good faith (bona fide)’.Footnote 121 Tomuschat observes that states’ lack of reaction ‘would appear to amount to a violation of the obligations under the ICCPR’.Footnote 122 By quoting Tomuschat’s remarks, the Venice Commission reiterated that ‘member states are under the obligation to take the HRC’s final views into consideration in good faith’.Footnote 123

A main point of contestation remains the extent to which the obligation to consider in good faith requires states parties, and indirectly their courts, to favour the monitoring bodies’ treaty interpretation. According to Tomuschat, states parties have to ‘carefully examine’ the Views addressed to them, and that ‘there exists a presumption in favour of substantive correctness of such views’.Footnote 124 In case of disagreement, a state party ‘must present detailed observations specifying its counter-arguments’.Footnote 125 An observation of a similar nature to the one by Tomuschat was relied upon by the Privy Council, in the New Zealand case of Tangiora in 1999, which found the HRC’s Views hard to dismiss despite the lack of binding force.Footnote 126 According to the Privy Council, the Views of the HRC acquire ‘authority from the standing of its members and their judicial qualities of impartiality, objectivity and restraint’.Footnote 127 Moreover, the Privy Council suggested that the functions of the Committee are ‘adjudicative’, as it makes a definitive and final ruling which is determinative of an issue that has been referred to it.Footnote 128 Despite these statements, however, the basis of the presumption of substantive correctness remains unclear.

6.5.2.2 Outside Case-Specific Responses

It has been further argued that the obligation to consider is not limited to states’ case-specific follow-up to the Views addressed to them. In the commentary to its draft conclusions adopted in 2018, the ILC acknowledge that ‘State parties may have an obligation, under a duty to cooperate under certain treaties, to take into account and to react to a pronouncement of an expert treaty body’Footnote 129 where the pronouncement is ‘specifically addressed to them or to individual communications regarding their own conduct’.Footnote 130 The ILC’s commentary signals that the dual obligations to consider and react may be applicable, not only to Views, but also to Concluding Observations addressed to a specific state party. The 2016 Final Report of the ILA International Human Rights Law Committee may have even gone beyond the ILC’s suggestion. According to the Final Report, the ‘jurisprudence’ developed by human rights bodies ‘constitutes res interpretata within the treaty system accepted by the state’.Footnote 131 On this basis, the ILA’s Final Report observed that domestic courts implement the good faith obligation by ‘giving serious consideration’ to the decisions of human rights bodies.Footnote 132 The ILA’s Final Report indicated that the treaty bodies’ ‘jurisprudence’ – and not necessarily limited to Views in case-specific follow-up – ought to be considered seriously.

It seems plausible to argue that states parties’ obligation to cooperate with the committees, based on the obligation to perform a treaty in good faith,Footnote 133 is applicable to Concluding Observations as they are addressed to specific states. One cannot be certain, however, whether this obligation is applicable to General Comments. Further contested is whether the presumption of substantive correctness applies to findings outside case-specific follow-up to Views. In para. 66 of Diallo, the ICJ was prepared to accord ‘great weight’ to the HRC’s ‘interpretation’ or ‘jurisprudence’ in general.Footnote 134 Interestingly, the ICJ’s justification for doing so was not only because the Committee is the ‘independent body that was established specifically to supervise the application of that treaty [i.e. the ICCPR]’.Footnote 135 The ICJ ascribed great weight to the HRC’s interpretation, also because of the wider interests at stake in achieving ‘the necessary clarity and the essential consistency of international law, as well as legal security’ necessary for the rights holders and duty bearers.Footnote 136 The reasoning of the ICJ shows that the degree of normative weight to be given to treaty body findings relies not only on one’s understanding of the characteristics of the monitoring bodies, but also the wider role that one wishes to ascribe to the bodies within the international legal order.

6.6 Engagement and Acceptance
6.6.1 Domestic Courts’ Practices

In contrast with the nuanced engagement of domestic courts with UN human rights treaty-monitoring bodies, the Spanish Supreme Court in its judgement of July 2018 (Judgment No. 1263/2018) has taken a different and dichotomous path.Footnote 137 In this exceptional yet significant case, the Spanish highest court established the binding character of the Views of the CEDAW at the domestic level. The Supreme Court’s decision came after many years of legal battles by the appellant, González Carreño.Footnote 138 Having been subject to physical and psychological violence by her partner, González Carreño filed a number of complaints in order to bring the abuses to the attention of the Spanish authorities.Footnote 139 While local courts took some measures to protect the appellant, they did not fully take into account the risks that her partner could pose, not only to the appellant, but also to her daughter, Andrea.Footnote 140 In May 2002, a Spanish local court allowed the partner, with respect to whom the appellant had obtained an order of marital separation, to visit their daughter Andrea without supervision.Footnote 141 In April 2003, during the scheduled visit, the daughter was shot by her father who eventually killed himself.

After the tragic incident, González Carreño went through a series of domestic court proceedings, trying to prove the pecuniary liability of the state which failed to protect her and her late daughter. From April 2004 to October 2010, her liability claims met rejection four times before Spanish courts.Footnote 142 Her constitutional claim was likewise rejected by the Constitutional Court in April 2011.Footnote 143 Having exhausted domestic remedies, on 19 September 2012, González Carreño brought her petition to the CEDAW. The Committee rendered its Views on 16 July 2014, finding the Spanish government in violation of her Conventional rights.Footnote 144 Having found a violation of the state’s obligations under the Convention,Footnote 145 the Committee recommended Spain to provide compensation and conduct an exhaustive and impartial investigation.Footnote 146 At the domestic level, however, the CEDAW’s recommendations in July 2014 did not result in any changes to the situation of the appellant. A year later, in July 2015, the CEDAW still expressed its concern about the ‘lack of follow-up to the Committee’s views’ on the part of the state party regarding González Carreño.Footnote 147 Meanwhile, she launched a series of new administrative and judicial proceedings, ultimately before the Supreme Court, requesting the government to give effect to the CEDAW’s Views.Footnote 148

In its judgement of 17 July 2018, the Spanish Supreme Court regarded the Views of the CEDAW as binding at the domestic level, ordering the government to pay €600,000 for moral damages suffered by the appellant.Footnote 149 The Supreme Court reached such a conclusion on the basis of both international and domestic laws. With regard to the international legal basis, the Spanish court held that the Views of the CEDAW have a ‘binding/obligatory’ character.Footnote 150 The court ascribed such a character to Views, despite its acknowledgement that the CEDAW Convention does not oblige states parties to adopt any specific procedures in order to give effect to Views.Footnote 151 The court derived the ‘binding/obligatory’ character on the basis of Article 24 of the CEDAW Convention and Articles 7(4) and 1 of the Optional Protocol.Footnote 152

The Supreme Court’s reasoning was further supported by domestic law. The court reiterated that the CEDAW Convention, on which the Committee and its Views are based, forms part of the domestic legal order under Article 96 of the Spanish Constitution.Footnote 153 Pursuant to Article 10(2) of the Constitution, fundamental rights shall be interpreted in accordance with human rights treaties ratified by Spain.Footnote 154 An important aspect of the court’s reasoning was the manner in which the court invoked Article 9(3) of the Spanish Constitution. The provision guarantees ‘the principle of legality and the normative hierarchy’, according to which international obligations relating to the execution of the decisions of the CEDAW form part of the Spanish internal order and enjoy a hierarchical position above ordinary domestic law.Footnote 155 On this basis, the Supreme Court observed that the Convention and the Views ‘can and should be a decisive element’ in proving the possible infringement of the fundamental rights of the appellant.Footnote 156 While the Supreme Court emphasized the particularities of the appellant’s case, the court took the position that the CEDAW’s Views must be considered as a ‘valid basis’ for bringing a claim concerning the pecuniary liability of the state.Footnote 157 Otherwise, as articulated by the Supreme Court, the ‘absence of a specific procedure for executing’ the Views of the Committee constitutes ‘in itself a breach of a legal and constitutional mandate by Spain’.Footnote 158

The Spanish Supreme Court’s reasoning pertains only to the CEDAW’s Views on individual communications, and not to other types of findings. Yet it would be good to reiterate once again that each monitoring body engages with its own previous findings. In the CEDAW’s Views in Angela González Carreño v. Spain, the Committee’s reasoning built on its General Recommendation No. 19 (1992),Footnote 159 in which the CEDAW had made it clear that states ought to act with due diligence to prevent violations involving the acts of private persons.Footnote 160 In Angela González Carreño v. Spain, the Committee found the violations of the Convention, ‘read jointly with … general recommendation No. 19 of the Committee’.Footnote 161 In other words, by according legal binding effect to Views, the Spanish Supreme Court in the judgement of July 2018 augmented the normative relevance of other CEDAW findings at the domestic level.

6.6.2 Normative Pathway: An Obligation to Comply

The Spanish Supreme Court’s identification of the binding character of the Views of the CEDAW resembles the draft version of the HRC’s General Comment No. 33 concerning the general obligations of states parties. In an early draft of what became the HRC’s General Comment No. 33, the HRC characterized its role as an ‘authentic interpreter’ of the CovenantFootnote 162 and regarded its Views as exhibiting ‘most of the characteristics of a judicial decision’.Footnote 163 Also, in the draft version, the HRC translated the obligation to cooperate with the Committee as entailing ‘an obligation to respect the views of the Committee in the given case’.Footnote 164 The HRC is not the only body that attempted to put forward an imperative tone. Within the CAT, one of its members observed that, ‘[w]hile the Committee’s decisions were not strictly mandatory, States parties had an obligation to comply with them in good faith’, which also justifies the CAT’s follow-up mechanism.Footnote 165

The imperative vocabularies used in the draft version of General Comment No. 33 met with criticisms from several states parties.Footnote 166 In the end, the wording of the final version of General Comment No. 33 was revised, including the critical phrase ‘authentic interpreter’.Footnote 167 The draft version of General Comment No. 33 was an attempt to creatively translate a procedural duty to cooperate with the Committee, based on the good faith obligation, into the substantive obligation to respect the Views of the HRC.Footnote 168 Such an attempt was not successful in 2008, at least in the context of the HRC.

In the judgement of July 2018, the Spanish Supreme Court by no means characterized the CEDAW as an authentic interpreter. In fact, the Spanish Constitutional Court reiterated in 2002 that the HRC was not a judicial organ and that the Views of the HRC could not represent the ‘authentic interpretation’ of the ICCPR.Footnote 169 The crux, however, is that the Spanish Supreme Court’s reasoning in 2018 was in part based on the state party’s obligation to take Views seriously. The Spanish court referred to not only Article 24 of the Convention, according to which states parties ‘undertake to adopt all necessary measures at the national level aimed at achieving the full realization of the rights recognized in the present Convention’.Footnote 170 The Court also relied on Article 7(4) of the Optional Protocol, according to which the state party has dual obligations. Namely, the party ‘shall give due consideration to the views of the Committee, together with its recommendations’ and ‘shall submit to the Committee, within six months, a written response’.Footnote 171 As noted in Section 6.5.2.1, these dual obligations are enunciated for the CESCR and the CRC as well.Footnote 172 Overall, the reasoning of the Spanish highest court demonstrates the breadth of what can be offered through the obligation to consider. After the lengthy administrative and judicial proceedings involving the victim of the state’s neglect, the obligation to consider has reached the point where no further deliberation may be welcome.

6.7 Conclusion

The shortcomings of human rights protection at the domestic level have sustained the need for institutional mechanisms at the international level that monitor and assist states’ implementation of human rights treaties. The ten human rights treaty-monitoring bodies, within their significantly limited resources, actively adopt general and specific findings. Each treaty-monitoring body generates and reiterates its own interpretation of relevant treaty obligations by cross-referencing previous findings. Despite the accumulation of instruments adopted, the effectiveness of treaty body findings ultimately relies on the degree to which their treaty interpretation becomes entangled with the practice of states parties, including their judiciary.

As illustrated by some examples discussed in this chapter, the treaty interpretation built by UN human rights treaty-monitoring bodies has been intertwined with the discourse of domestic court decisions. Various courts have shown their willingness to take into account General Comments, Concluding Observations and Views in the course of interpreting applicable human rights treaties and relevant domestic legal provisions. Judges’ proximity to the international monitoring bodies varies, depending on sociological contexts in which judges have been situated. If UN treaty-monitoring bodies are not integrated in judges’ legal training, it may be unrealistic to expect them to see the relevance of treaty body findings.

At the same time, a connecting point between UN treaty-monitoring bodies and domestic courts can also be normative, at least in part. One such normative pathway which generates ‘discursive entanglement’Footnote 173 is the obligation to consider. As illustrated in the present chapter, there are a number of variations surrounding such an obligation, from mere encouragement to take into account to an obligation to implement. While normative expectations may be limited to certain types of treaty body findings, the monitoring bodies regularly refer back to General Comments in drafting Concluding Observations or Views, reminding a state party of the monitoring bodies’ earlier remarks on which specific observations are built. In other words, the consideration of Views would substantively involve a state party’s reflection of General Comments or Concluding Observations.

Pathways built around the obligation to consider are not single routes. There are multiple normative variations: ranging from a cursory look, to substantive and reasoned engagement, to legally obliged acceptance. Due to the fact that there are multiple possibilities, judges’ willingness to substantively engage with the treaty body’s interpretation can be altered, for instance, by the initiatives to better ensure independence and impartiality of UN treaty-monitoring bodies.Footnote 174 Substantive engagement on the part of domestic courts creates further opportunities for the treaty bodies to tailor their approaches to states parties. Deliberative space involving domestic courts and the monitoring bodies may be multifaceted and changeable, in that it allows various degrees of entanglement on the part of domestic courts. Yet it is precisely because of its precariousness that there arises the need for constant attempts to augment the quality of engagement, both on the part of domestic courts and UN treaty-monitoring bodies.

7 The Social Life of Entanglements International Investment and Human Rights Norms in and beyond ISDS

Francesco Corradini
7.1 Introduction

Metaphors may be helpful tools to think about law. They may also help us to imagine what happens when law makes its actual appearance in the plural rather than in the singular. Consider the following statement:

[W]estbrook’s intriguing metaphor of cream poured into coffee, swirling and billowing before blending into a homogenized liquid, is suggestive. But this only captures part of what we should be concerned with. The cream comes from a single outside source, it is poured from above, the flow is in one direction, and the blending is relatively harmonious; but many of our stories of diffusion of law are more complex often involving two or more reciprocally interacting change agents, crossing of levels, and repression, resistance, or avoidance.Footnote 1

A former judge of the International Court of Justice (ICJ) employed a similar rhetorical device as he imagined how investment protection and human rights norms could be brought in relation. He observed:

[O]il and water do not mix, at least not readily. Is this also true of human rights and the protection of foreign investment-here also in the sense that they ought to be kept apart? Some observers, or rather stakeholders, might think so. There is, of course a way to overcome this separation: science and industry employ some sort of mediators between the water and the oil (so-called ‘emulgators’) to achieve this.Footnote 2

From a legal theory perspective, the observation of contemporary phenomena akin to the interactions captured by these metaphors has led to the hypothesis that, particularly in contexts of societal disagreement and institutional pluralization, law has become ‘entangled’.Footnote 3 International legal scholarship has diagnosed similar dynamics in disputes over the relationship between global economic governance and human rights.Footnote 4 From this perspective, efforts to establish human rights obligations for multinational corporations in 2003, followed by the UN Guiding Principles in 2011 and leading to current discussions at the UN about a new international instrument on transnational corporations,Footnote 5 may be seen as fragments belonging to a common dynamic process of defining relations between business and human rights norms.Footnote 6

To illustrate this process, this chapter investigates forms of interaction between international investment and human rights law. As these forms depend on the contexts in which they are construed, I focus on governance sites where actors have disagreed about the best way to order the encounter of multiple legalities. Examining the ‘social life’ of this encounter, I seek to understand when and how ‘entangled legalities’Footnote 7 emerge – where, how and by whom have they been produced? Drawing upon the conceptual framework of the volume, I analyse competing claims of actors and institutions through which investment protection and human rights norms have been brought in relation over time.

The chapter has three sections, in addition to an introduction and a conclusion. Section 7.2 identifies the rational and ideational parameters that are likely to affect whether and how ‘forms of entanglement’Footnote 8 in international investment law have come about and developed. On the one hand, these forms may be an effect of competing interests of actors with unequal access to resources and knowledge to shape and organize them. Rational actors’ attitudes towards what they represent as ‘other’ legalities may depend upon the potential gains involved in that determination. On the other hand, actors’ mindsets and the cultural setting of investment arbitration are bound to have repercussions on how the boundaries of international investment law and its relations with competing legalities are shaped. Against this background, Section 7.3 examines how actors have actually dealt with multiple legalities, in particular with human rights norms, in the context of investor–state dispute settlement (ISDS) and analyses the various forms that they have generated there. As actors’ responses to multiplicity have varied considerably in practice, the emerging picture is not coherent. When interpreting investment treaty standards, investment adjudicators have disregarded human rights norms in some cases, while in other cases they accorded them some weight, but always doing so from the perspective of their own legality. Actors’ strategic interests and ideational context may partly account for the diversity of interpretive practices observed. As the institutions of international investment protection face growing challenges from national governments, academics and non-governmental actors, linkages with human rights may be beneficial to their cause.

Section 7.4 examines similar dynamics of convergence and divergence between legalities in contexts of international investment law reform, where the norm of ISDS itself has become the object of acute contestation. Human rights experts have articulated a mode of ordering multiplicity that is similar to the dominant forms of relationing observed in foreign investment litigation. Associated as they are to a systemic vision of order, human rights lawyers have also relied on norms of internal hierarchy according to which different legalities have to be ‘consistent’ with human rights and the rule of law. Some of these experts went so far as to claim that human rights norms have priority over conflicting legalities.

7.2 Pathways to Entanglement in International Investment Governance Sites

Legal scholars have emphasized the pluralist, decentralized and incrementally evolving character of international investment law.Footnote 9 Indeed, in contexts of investment treaty disputes, often this law makes its appearance more in the plural than in the singular.Footnote 10 For example, bilateral investment treaties (BITs), multilateral or regional trade and investment agreements often interplay with domestic laws, contractual frameworks and other rules of international law and therefore it becomes crucial to define their relations.Footnote 11 At sites of foreign investment governance, entanglements do not build themselves but are defined by the interplay of situated actors with competing stakes and normative orientations.Footnote 12 Such diversity of actors and ‘bodies of norms’Footnote 13 makes this arena of global economic governance, and investment treaty arbitration in particular,Footnote 14 an ideal setting to analyse how entangled legalities are formed and operate. The purpose of this chapter is to get closer to the social life of relations built in and around this law. To do so, I consider how actors’ attitudes towards human rights norms in investor–state arbitration may respond to competing interests and the ideational background in which they are formed.

7.2.1 Competing Interests

Societal actors’ interests are a first potential determinant of entangled legalities.Footnote 15 From a rational choice perspective, international investment arbitration participants – foreign investors, host governments, investment arbitrators, lawyers and non-governmental organizations (NGOs) – act rationally to maximize their self-interest.Footnote 16 Given the competition of interests and concerns involved, conflicting demands and priorities are bound to condition whether and how norms will be brought together or kept apart.Footnote 17 This outcome may depend on actors’ ‘prudential reasons-for-action’ – different actors will shape forms of relation depending on their own expected gains.Footnote 18

Since ‘states, investors, and NGOs often favour different paradigms in light of their divergent normative interests and agendas’,Footnote 19 these interests and agendas will also determine what weight they will give to the legalities at play. I assume that the interest of the two disputing parties – foreign investor and responding state – is to win the dispute. As investors argue ‘for broad investor rights’,Footnote 20 we can expect them to defend their own interests from the potentially disruptive effects of human rights protecting the interests of other individuals or groups. Empirical findings suggest that foreign investors have benefited from investment litigation. Particularly since the second half of 1990s, they have gained from using investment claims against poor and rich governments.Footnote 21 The stability and predictability of international investment protection – legally sanctioned through international arbitration – has been economically beneficial to international investors. It seems that the status quo has protected foreign investors’ interests against the preferences of other societal actors.Footnote 22 Given the beneficial environment in which investors bring their claims, couplings with bodies of norms of different origin may open unpredictable scenarios. As rational actors, foreign investors will seek to resist this outcome.Footnote 23 However, in cases in which it is convenient to them, they may also entangle their rights with human rights norms, perhaps to enhance the persuasiveness of their claims against the host government.Footnote 24 States, too, may expect gains from these types of connections. Frequently, and especially in times of economic crises, linkages with human rights might strengthen their defences against investor’s claims. Countries with limited financial resources may use these linkages as a rhetorical strategy to expand their ‘regulatory authority’Footnote 25 and avoid costly liability or reduce the amount of compensation due to the investor. Finally, NGOs (other than business associations) and human rights experts may entangle international investment and human rights law to advance the interests of affected outsiders like local communities and human rights holders.

Investment arbitration insiders’ decision-making may also respond to constraints and incentives.Footnote 26 Previous empirical analysis has concluded that arbitrators of the International Centre for Settlement of Investment Disputes (ICSID) form a ‘network’ that ‘reinforces prevailing norms and behaviours and insulates its most important members from outside influence’.Footnote 27 Beyond international arbitrators, legal counsel, expert witnesses and tribunal secretaries have also become particularly influential actors.Footnote 28 In conditions of professional competition, the members of the investment arbitration industry may have professional incentives to distance human rights. As co-operators of the system, they will have material incentives to defend their legal specialization and their role as the masters of its law. From their perspective, investment arbitration may be a specialized profession with its own ‘ethos’ and associated relevant frameworks and practices.Footnote 29 Therefore, distancing human rights may be needed to secure reputation from other members of their community of practice and to continue their practice as usual.Footnote 30 Yet empirical work has found that over time there have been incentives for these legal experts to be reflexively open to societal demands. As investor–state arbitration faces a legitimacy crisis, some arbitrators may act strategically to ‘manage consciously or unconsciously the legitimacy of arbitration’ by showing ‘greater deference to respondent states’.Footnote 31 To do so, they might seek to adjust their decision-making in response to the claims and interests of dominant states like the European Union, the United States and China, but also to those of some Latin America countries that have been vocal against investment arbitration. In this context, investment arbitration officials might benefit from linkages with norms with strong social backing like human rights law to strengthen their own legitimacy.Footnote 32

7.2.2 Ideational Contexts

A second possible cause of entanglements is the ideational context in which they come about. In investment arbitration, this context is shaped by multiple factors, including actors’ ‘shared understandings’ of international investment law and their role in the ‘community of practice’ they form a part of.Footnote 33 ‘Epistemic communities – that is, social groups of professionals and academics that shape the discursive policies’Footnote 34 in investment arbitration have played a role in the formation of those understandings,Footnote 35 with possible implications for the ‘interface norms’ and practices emerging from the inside of that community of practice and its discourse. From this perspective, situations of enmeshment may be driven by how different actors regard international investment law, for example by adopting primarily an international public law, commercial arbitration or public law approach.Footnote 36

Investment tribunals will often understand their role as strictly confined to the determination of whether foreign investors’ rights have been violated or not. In that determination, arbitrators will see themselves primarily as interpreters of the legal basis creating those rights (e.g. a treaty), with implications for their room for manoeuvre to create relations with bodies of norms perceived as external. ISDS participants’ choice of ‘conceptual maps’Footnote 37 is likely to impact whether and how legalities are brought together or kept apart and with which effects. This choice may depend upon actors’ background and projects. For instance, investment arbitrators with knowledge in public international law have drawn on the judgements of the ICJ, while others with experience in trade law have relied on the World Trade Organization (WTO) jurisprudence.Footnote 38 The same holds true for arbitrators emphasizing a ‘universalistic’ versus ‘particularistic’ perspective of the interaction between ‘general international law’ and other ‘special regimes’. For example, a former ICJ judge has situated ‘international investment law’ within ‘general international law’ in keeping with his vision about the relationship between ‘special regimes’ within the wider ‘universe of international law’.Footnote 39 Similarly, lawyers believing in a unified ‘international legal system’ as opposed to a ‘fragmented’ one will consider linkages between international investment and human rights law with less hesitancy.Footnote 40

However, previous sociological analysis of the ‘investment arbitration culture’ has concluded that lawyers with a strong background in public international law are the minority in investment arbitration settings while the ‘commercial arbitration paradigm’ appears as the dominant one.Footnote 41 Empirical work on the composition of investor–state arbitral tribunals at ICSID has found that these tribunals comprise individuals – mostly men from the USA and Europe – whose conception of law reflects their particular training and professional background.Footnote 42 Here, international ‘business lawyers’ with competence in ‘commerce, industry or finance’ appear as the dominant players.Footnote 43 The investment arbitration community seems to have little knowledge of human rights law due to the particular ‘sociocultural features’ and processes of socialization of that community.Footnote 44 Indeed, ‘culture influences how people think, communicate, behave’,Footnote 45 including how they situate themselves in relation to different constituencies and their legalities. However, legal culture and socio-psychological influencesFootnote 46 are not the only elements of the ideational context in which arbitrators’ decision-making is situated. Empirical work has found that arbitrators’ ‘policy preferences’, including their ideology, also shape their decisions.Footnote 47 As a consequence of the ‘set of values and beliefs’Footnote 48 that seem dominant in investment arbitration we might expect resistance to tight linkages with human rights,Footnote 49 although it is possible that investment arbitrators’ ‘background preferences’Footnote 50 might begin to change.

7.3 Navigating Multiplicity in ISDS Practice
7.3.1 Varying Forms of Relation

As claims about human rights have begun to be heard in investment arbitration, ISDS participants have faced the challenge of ‘navigating’ between multiple bodies of norms.Footnote 51 Influenced by the discourse of institutions like the World Bank-based ICSID, the Permanent Court of Arbitration (PCA) or the United Nations Commission on International Trade Law (UNCITRAL), ISDS has become one among many governance sites where ‘horizontal’ and ‘vertical’ interactions between legal orders have been articulated over time. At this site, ad hoc investment arbitrators have become key decision-makers in setting the boundaries of ‘international investment law’.Footnote 52 While scholars have observed an increase in the number of actors’ statements referring to human rights norms in investment litigation,Footnote 53 we know less about the forms of relation constructed through those claims. In Section 7.3.2, I draw on a selection of statements to analyse the ways in which different actors have brought bodies of norms in relation in ISDS.

7.3.2 Hierarchies and Separation

Foreign investors and states have dealt with multiplicity by relying on hierarchies, as exemplified in the CMS Gas Transmission Company case.Footnote 54 The dispute arose after Argentina adopted measures to protect the welfare of the population, including by guaranteeing access to public services, amid an economic crisis at the end of the 1990s. At the time, CMS, a US corporation with an investment in the gas transportation sector of Argentina, claimed it suffered financial losses as a result of those exceptional measures and invoked its rights under the Argentina–United States BIT to protect its interests through ICSID arbitration. While Argentina and CMS disagreed over the ultimate source of authority to decide their dispute, they both referred to norms about hierarchy to order the relation between bodies of norms. Particularly contentious was the question of the ‘applicable law’.Footnote 55 While the investor regarded the BIT and international law as lex specialis, Argentina not only considered its constitutional order relevant but also superior to the BIT. Drawing on its constitution, public law and international customary rules on state of necessity, Argentina said that obligations to safeguard constitutional rights prevailed over its BIT commitments, including investor’s fair and equitable treatment (FET) claims.Footnote 56 Argentina situated and construed the relation between the legalities at play within an order where constitutional public law and human rights had primacy over investment treaties.

Drawing on a ‘more pragmatic and less doctrinaire’ approach and ‘taking the facts of the case and the arguments of the parties into account’,Footnote 57 the tribunal concurred with Argentina that both the international and the domestic legal orders applied to the dispute. It found ‘a close interaction between the legislation and the regulations governing the gas privatization, the Licence and international law, as embodied both in the Treaty and in customary international law’.Footnote 58 While the tribunal emphasized that the multiple legalities were ‘inseparable’, it also specified that they were to be applied ‘to the extent justified’.Footnote 59 As a consequence, the tribunal decided against Argentina that ‘while treaties in theory could collide with the Constitution, in practice this is not very likely’Footnote 60 and ‘in this case, the tribunal does not find any such collision’ partly because ‘there is no question of affecting fundamental human rights when considering the issues disputed by the parties’.Footnote 61 The tribunal highlighted that ‘the specific domestic legislation of Argentina and rules of international law applied by the Tribunal will be discussed in connection with the issues contended’.Footnote 62 By assigning a specific ‘role’ to domestic and international law in relation to the ‘facts’ of the dispute, the tribunal created distance between these legal orders. It insisted on regarding the two laws as separate legal orders that could simultaneously apply in the circumstances of the case, rather than creating a hierarchical relation between them, as if the obligations owed to the investor and to the Argentinian population could run in parallel.

7.3.3 Proximity and Distance

NGOs have played an important role in tying human rights and ISDS. For example, they have highlighted conflicts between human rights and investment protection norms, as reflected in the Glamis dispute.Footnote 63 The case was initiated by a Canadian mining company, investing in the United States, claiming that the mandatory backfilling requirements adopted by California violated its right of FET and of protection from ‘expropriation without compensation’, under chapter 11 of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA).Footnote 64 Indigenous communities inhabiting the surrounding areas were affected by the investment project.

Although the United States remained silent on the relation between NAFTA chapter 11 and Indigenous rights, representatives from the Quechan Indian Nation situated the dispute within a wider juridical context including the international legal framework for the protection of Indigenous cultural heritage rights.Footnote 65 They argued that the tribunal ought to ‘be guided by’ Indigenous people’s norms when interpreting investors’ rights to avoid an ‘arbitrary and discriminatory decision’ that would violate ‘international law’.Footnote 66 They employed the flexible interface norm of ‘taking into account’, expressed in article 31(3)(c) of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties (VCLT), through which they weaved together article 1105 (minimum standard of treatment), article 1110 (compensation for expropriation) of NAFTA and the rights of Indigenous people. They also referred to the need of ensuring consistency with ‘public international law’ within which they situated the multiple legalities. Yet the tribunal’s interpretation of its mandate had the effect of narrowing down the relevant laws at play, thereby creating distance from other bodies of norms.Footnote 67 Based on the understanding that its task was to undertake a ‘case-specific arbitration with awareness of the NAFTA Chapter 11 system’,Footnote 68 the tribunal refused to ‘decide many of the most controversial issues raised in this proceeding’Footnote 69 and therefore did not consider the multiplicity of laws that the Quechan people invoked. Eventually, the tribunal dismissed the claims of the investor but also disregarded the claims by the Quechan people by placing emphasis on its ‘case-specific mandate’ and on the ‘issues presented’ by the parties to the dispute.Footnote 70 The interpretation of investment treaty standards in the ‘context’ of human rights norms was on display in the Suez case,Footnote 71 in which foreign investors brought claims against Argentina under three BITs.Footnote 72 In this case, investors’ rights to ‘full protection and security’ and ‘fair and equitable treatment’ were pitched against Argentina’s human rights obligations. While the investors deemed human rights ‘irrelevant’ to the determination of whether the obligations under the BITs had been breached,Footnote 73 five NGOs brought the right to water and to life to bear in the definition of the ‘applicable law’ for the ‘proper adjudication of the dispute’ and for the ‘proper application’ of fair and equitable treatment and indirect expropriation.Footnote 74 They maintained that the case involved a conflict between the state’s duty to protect the right to water and its obligations to the investorFootnote 75 and that the former norm prevailed over the latter.Footnote 76 They ordered the conflicting norms by invoking the requirement ‘not to interpret certain rules in isolation from other parts of the legal order’.Footnote 77 According to the NGOs, the interpretation of the BIT had to take human rights law ‘into account’. Similarly, Argentina framed human rights law as the ‘context’ in which the BIT standards had to be interpreted.Footnote 78 The tribunal’s determination of the relative weight of the bodies of norms at play was different from that of Argentina and the NGO. In contrast to the Glamis tribunal, which had chosen to ignore the multiplicity of laws, the Suez tribunal interpreted them as separate layers moving in parallel directions and simultaneously applicable to the factual circumstances of the case.Footnote 79 As a result, it insisted on keeping a great distance between bodies of norms, which it perceived as separate and independent legal units. This particular way of ordering bodies of norms may indeed be read as a ‘general reluctance […] to openly decide potential conflicts between investment protection and public policy objectives’.Footnote 80

7.3.4 Taking into Account

A selected integrationist perspective on the relation between investment treaty norms and human rights was articulated in the Al-Warraq case.Footnote 81 The dispute originated from criminal proceedings in absentia by Indonesian authorities against an investor from Saudi Arabia holding shares in an Indonesian bank. The investor brought claims against Indonesia under a multilateral investment treaty (OIC Agreement)Footnote 82 and used international human rights law to interpret its provisions. Drawing on the ‘principle of systematic integration of international law norms’,Footnote 83 the investor brought the right to a fair trial under article 14(2) of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), the UN Human Rights Committee’s General Comment 13, regional human rights institutions’ pronouncements on ‘presumption of innocence’,Footnote 84 the ‘basic rights’ and the fair and equitable treatment standard under the OIC Agreement into relation.Footnote 85

The tribunal concurred with the investor that certain civil and political rights were part of investment protection norms, but it distanced the notion of ‘basic rights’ under the OIC Agreement from human rights norms by highlighting the particular ‘object and purpose’ of the former (i.e. investment promotion and protection).Footnote 86 However, the tribunal construed greater proximity between the FET standard and the norm against ‘denial of justice’ under various human rights instruments, in particular article 14(3) of the ICCPR. Eventually, the tribunal decided that ‘denial of justice constitutes a clear violation of the FET standard’.Footnote 87 The tribunal brought ICCPR norms and the FET standard in relation after claiming that ‘the ICCPR is now regarded as a part of “general international law”’, which suggests that ‘general international law’ was used as an ‘overarching norm’ to connect ICCPR norms to the investment legal order.Footnote 88 The Urbaser disputeFootnote 89 between foreign investors and Argentina, related to a concession for water and sewage services under the terms of the Spain–Argentina BIT, partly redefined the openness of ISDS to human rights. The question of the relation between international investment agreements and human rights emerged in the context of a counterclaim by Argentina seeking compensation for damages from the investor, which affected basic human rights.Footnote 90 In contrast to the Suez dispute, investors did not consider human rights ‘irrelevant’ but distanced them through interpretive practices. The investors claimed that human rights were duties of the state rather than of private companies and said that Argentina was under the ‘obligations regarding the population’s right to water, and its obligations towards international investors’, which ought to be fulfilled ‘simultaneously’,Footnote 91 reflecting the approach of the CMS and Suez awards. The investors also drew on the precedent of the Biloune v. Ghana dispute, in which the tribunal decided that ‘a ruling on human rights violations is outside the scope of its jurisdiction’.Footnote 92 While the investors emphasized the BIT, claiming that its ‘provisions, principles and rights’ were ‘essential to resolve the dispute’, Argentina maintained that the ‘applicable law’ consisted of the ‘BIT, Argentine law and general international law’ and that they ought to be applied ‘jointly and harmoniously’.Footnote 93 According to Argentina, the BIT was not ‘a set of self-contained rules’ and therefore ‘international law in general’ had to be applied, including ‘imperative international law’, which trumped standards of investment protection.Footnote 94 The Urbaser tribunal responded to this situation of multiplicity by situating the legalities at play within an overarching structure. It found that ‘the BIT does not represent, in the view of the Contracting Parties and its clear text, a set of rules defined in isolation without consideration given to rules of international law external to its own rules’.Footnote 95 Drawing on the Tulip annulment decision,Footnote 96 the tribunal listed various international human rights instruments followed by article 31(3)(c) of the VCLT and decided that ‘the BIT cannot be interpreted and applied in a vacuum’ and that, while it ought to be ‘mindful of the BIT’s special purpose as a Treaty promoting foreign investments’, ‘it cannot do so without taking the relevant rules of international law into account. The BIT has to be construed in harmony with other rules of international law of which it forms part, including those relating to human rights’.Footnote 97 Reliance on ‘overarching norms’, which the tribunal implicitly construed by interpreting the provisions on applicable law under article X(5) of the BIT and article 42 of ICSID Convention, enabled the tribunal to place the BIT in ‘the overall system of international law’.Footnote 98 Conflicting statements about the relation between international investment and human rights norms were brought forward in the Bear Creek dispute,Footnote 99 involving claims by a Canadian mining company investing in a mining project in Peru under the investment chapter of the Canada–Peru Free Trade Agreement (FTA). The investment project generated acute protests by affected Indigenous communities, including the Aymara population, inhabiting the surrounding area and demanding respect for their human rights. With regard to the applicable law to the dispute, the investor and the state focused on the FTA and applicable rules of international law.Footnote 100 However, two civil society organizations presented a description of the facts and of the law which highlighted connections between the Aymara population’s Indigenous rights and the FTA provisions.Footnote 101 The two organizations argued that Indigenous rights had to be taken into account when interpreting the FTA.Footnote 102 In his dissenting opinion, co-arbitrator Sands drew on the Urbaser award to argue that consultation requirements in article 15 of the International Labour Organization (ILO) Convention 169 were part of the ‘applicable rules of international law’ which the tribunal could ‘take into account’.Footnote 103 By failing to carry out its obligations vis-à-vis the Aymara peoples’ ‘rights under international law’, the investor contributed to the demise of the investment. Consequently, the amount of damages to be awarded was to be reduced by half.Footnote 104 Although co-arbitrator Sands’ dissenting opinion in Bear Creek and the award in Urbaser placed a different degree of emphasis on human rights,Footnote 105 both statements strengthened the expectation that international investment agreements cannot be interpreted in isolation from other parts of the legal order.Footnote 106 Claims about the primacy of human rights over investment protection norms were formulated by the state in the South American Silver dispute, related to an investment in mining activities in Bolivia under the terms of the United Kingdom–Bolivia BIT. The dispute stemmed from measures adopted by Bolivia to protect Indigenous communities inhabiting the areas surrounding the investment project. The parties to the dispute disagreed over the relation between the BIT and international law and between the BIT and the Bolivian national legal system. The investor deemed the BIT to be the ‘primary source of law and lex specialis, as supplemented by general principles of law, as needed’.Footnote 107 It distanced domestic law, arguing that it did not form part of the ‘law applicable to the merits of the arbitration proceeding’Footnote 108 and contended that recourse to supplementary means to interpret the BIT was ‘unnecessary’.Footnote 109 By contrast, Bolivia demanded that a wider body of norms be taken ‘in consideration’ when interpreting the applicable law.Footnote 110 The state said that its constitution and international norms on the protection of Indigenous rightsFootnote 111 were ‘supplementary’ to the BIT and prevailed over norms in investment treaties in case of conflict.Footnote 112 The investor contested this representation, arguing that the invoked rights could not be taken into consideration by the tribunal since they were not binding on the United Kingdom and did not constitute customary international law or general principles of law.Footnote 113 Having identified the BIT as ‘the principal instrument’Footnote 114 for resolving the dispute, the tribunal found that the tool of ‘systemic interpretation’ under article 31(3)(c) of the VCLT is not limitless and must be applied with caution.Footnote 115 According to the tribunal, ‘this principle must be applied in harmony with the rest of the provisions of the same article and cautiously, in order to prevent the tribunal from exceeding its jurisdiction and applying rules to the dispute which the Parties have not agreed to’.Footnote 116 Eventually, the tribunal concluded that Bolivia had to pay compensation and compound interests to the investor but dismissed all other claims of the investor.

7.3.5 Constrained Entanglements

The previous analysis of ISDS cases suggests that strategic, institutional and cultural factors impacted the way actors brought international investment law and ‘other’ legalities in relation. In a context with high institutional barriers to access and with an unequal representation of the interests involved, certain claims were accorded greater weight than other, competing ones. In particular, investment arbitrators and lawyers representing investors and states played a dominant role, whereas the voice of other affected polities was silenced.

The ‘tension between proximity and distance’Footnote 117 in investment treaty disputes was shaped by the interplay of a limited number of actors. Understandably, with the exception of the Al-Warraq dispute, investors had clear incentives to keep human rights law at bay in investment disputes. By contrast, states had stronger incentives to draw on that law to formulate their defences. Non-disputing parties and actors not represented in ISDS – workers, Indigenous groups, poor communities – had limited access to inform investment arbitrators’ decisions. In the Bear Creek dispute, arbitrators denied a request for participation as amicus curiae by one academic institution, showing little consideration for actors other than the parties to the dispute, including disputes generating ‘public interest’.Footnote 118

As a consequence, entangled legalities in ISDS have mainly reflected the preferences of foreign investors, states and investment arbitrators. From this perspective, greater participation from affected outsidersFootnote 119 may lead to a greater variety of claims and forms of relation than the status quo allows. Yet this is unlikely to lead to entanglements that would be independent from the institutional and ideational structures of investment arbitration – enhanced participation would still operate within structural constraints.

Indeed, the analysis of ISDS cases has also shown that the multiplicity of laws was framed from the perspective of the dominant interpretive and legal frames of reference in the investment arbitration context and in conformity with the interface norms recognized within the ISDS ‘community of practice’.Footnote 120 In particular, investment tribunals approached multiplicity from the standpoint of international investment law by relying on the principle of ‘systemic integration’ in article 31(3)(c) of the VCLT.Footnote 121 This principle was used to tie bodies of formal international law that were recognized by actors as the relevant law. Through this integrating principle of treaty interpretation, lawyers and arbitrators connected international investment and human rights norms by situating them within the ‘system’ of general international law as opposed to framing them as two separate legal systemsFootnote 122 and ordering them through ‘reception norms’.Footnote 123 The dominant structures of relation observed reflect the institutional background in which ISDS lawyers have been trained and work.Footnote 124 ISDS professionals’ mindsets and the ‘discursive policies’Footnote 125 in which they are situated may contribute to explaining the particular modes of ordering multiplicity in ISDS. These situated jurists seem to share a particular ‘way of thinking’ about the law of foreign investment arbitration, which shapes the way they practice it in relation to ‘foreign’ legalities.Footnote 126 These actors operate in a professional environment that does not create strong incentives to question the dominant schemes for thinking and practising law, much less to depart from them. For example, these specialists have to behave in conformity with the rules of the game of the institutional site in which they operateFootnote 127 in order to pursue or maintain reputation.Footnote 128 These rules include shared presuppositions about the nature of ‘international investment law’, its ‘sources’, institutional circumstances and the ‘rituals’Footnote 129 of international arbitration. According to the recognized norms of investment arbitration, the rules on jurisdiction, applicable laws and consent of the parties have narrowed the space for linking bodies of norms in practice.Footnote 130 For example, the doctrine of the limitation of tribunals’ jurisdictionFootnote 131 to ‘investment disputes’ has enabled adjudicators to create distance between bodies of norms and strengthen the autonomy of their legal order from the interference of competing legalities. Similarly, international investment lawyers perceive that there must be ‘legal grounds’ for tribunals to consider human rights norms.Footnote 132 ISDS insiders may benefit from the dominant mode of ordering legalities in this setting – therefore there seem to be fewer incentives to change the status quo than to maintain it.

In summary, the dominant interests, institutional structures and ‘legal culture’Footnote 133 in ISDS seem to have influenced the way situated actors have ordered multiplicity in that setting. However, ultimate conclusions on the implications of actors’ ideational context and strategic interests for the particular forms of enmeshment observed seem premature. For example, it is not clear whether investment arbitrators’ background had more influence than the material incentives associated with the international investment dispute settlement culture.Footnote 134 Not only did arbitrators with expertise in public international law decide in favour of foreign investors in some cases, they also kept investment protection and human rights norms at a great distance from each other, against our expectations.Footnote 135 This finding suggests that arbitrators’ proficiency in public international law and human rights law would not automatically translate into an outcome where the distance between bodies of norms is reduced, as other factors may be simultaneously at play. For example, arbitrators’ interests, including reappointment as arbitrator, may have had greater impact in shaping arbitrators’ decision-making. They may have created proximity or distance between bodies of norms to pursue their own goals. In this respect, the potentially ‘addictive’Footnote 136 practice of investment arbitration and the high financial stakes involved in it may have played a greater role than, or at least interplayed with, the legal background of its participants in the formation of relations between bodies of norms. From this perspective, to ‘properly train’ the future operators of ISDSFootnote 137 may indeed be necessary but perhaps not enough.

7.4 Entangled Legalities at the Margins
7.4.1 Beyond ISDS

Thus far, I have contextualized interpretative practices through which international investment and human rights norms have been brought in relation in investment adjudication settings. The statements of investment arbitrators and of the lawyers representing foreign investors and states have been given greater weight than those of other stakeholders, partly due to the dominant interests and ideational context of investment treaty arbitration. Civil society input has remained limited and only a few legal specialists have been authorized to determine the relative weight of legalities at play at that site. Yet ISDS is not, and should not be, the only global governance site for determining relations between these legalities. Rather, the claims of institutions and affected actors ‘at the margins’ of that context and its discourse should also be accounted for when appraising the enmeshment of the overall order. Against the background of the so-called ‘legitimacy crisis’ of international investment law,Footnote 138 expressions of contestation have encouraged a reform of investment agreements and investment dispute settlement. The reform process could pave the way for greater civil society input than the status quo allows, thereby creating room for closer proximity with other legalities. In this context, struggles for change within and from international investment law are situated at multiple sites and involve different actors with competing interests and approaches to reform.

7.4.2 Reforming Investment Agreements

At sites of treaty negotiation, states have responded to the legitimacy crisis of international investment law by rearticulating their relation with it through different lawmaking practices. While countries like Ecuador, Venezuela, Argentina and Bolivia have withdrawn or intended to withdraw from the ICSID Convention and BITs, others have amended existing investment treaties.Footnote 139 The wording of these texts indicates that state parties have given human rights some consideration.Footnote 140 Similar references have appeared in ‘new generation international investment agreements’, originally championed by the United States and Canada and subsequently adopted by the EU.Footnote 141 The concept of ‘governments’ right to regulate’, included in the 2017 Colombia model BIT as well as in the 2019 Dutch Model BIT,Footnote 142 has opened a space to construe connections with states’ obligations under international human rights law.Footnote 143 The Comprehensive Economic Trade Agreement (CETA) between the EU and Canada has brought together investment protection, trade and sustainable development and labour and environmental protection norms, and article 8.9 of its investment protection chapter reaffirms state parties’ ‘right to regulate’.Footnote 144 Similar lawmaking practices, driven in particular by the interests of economically powerful countries, include ‘mega-regulation’ instruments like the Trans-Pacific Partnership that has incorporated environmental and labour norms, perhaps to address demands by civil society actors concerned with the impact of ISDS on social and environmental protection within domestic legal systems.Footnote 145 Therefore, processes of investment treaty negotiations, especially if transparent and open to the participation of affected stakeholders,Footnote 146 are potentially effective arenas for reshaping entanglements through textual references.

Yet, we should not read too much into these references as they tell us little about how relations with other, competing polities and their legal orders ought to be ordered.Footnote 147 On the one hand, their relationship remains formally open and its shape will be determined only through political processes and the practice of societal actors. On the other hand, those references do not reflect the more contestatory claims of actors who challenge the very existence of international investment protection. While those provisions may enable linkages with ‘community interests’,Footnote 148 it remains to be seen how the relevant decision-makers will weigh bodies of norms in practice. Under current structural circumstances in ISDS, characterized by a substantial preference for ‘stronger rather than weaker investor protection’Footnote 149 and under-inclusiveness of relevant actors, a concrete change from dominant ways of dealing with multiplicity seems unlikely. Future practice might tell us more about the interface norms at play, and much is likely to depend on who the actors construing them will be. However, efforts at rewriting investment treaties may be seen as attempts to respond to growing voices of contestation stemming from other sites in the overall order.

7.4.3 Human Rights Claims

Similarly to the main type of interface norms construed in investment adjudication contexts, human rights experts have approached investment protection norms through overarching norms, which might be explained by taking account of the ideational and institutional context in which they operate. For example, in the Sawhoyamaxa case,Footnote 150 involving a dispute over human rights of Indigenous communities in Paraguay, the Inter-American Court of Human Rights articulated its view of the relationship between international investment law and the Inter-American Convention on Human Rights. Paraguay sought to justify non-enforcement of the Indigenous people’s property rights by arguing that the land, which had been bought by a German investor, was protected under an investment treaty between Paraguay and Germany.Footnote 151 Yet the court regarded the Inter-American Convention as the ultimate frame of reference and accorded it more weight than investment agreements. It ruled that ‘the enforcement of bilateral commercial treaties […] should always be compatible with the American Convention, which is a multilateral treaty on human rights that stands in a class of its own and that generates rights for individual human beings and does not depend entirely on reciprocity among States’.Footnote 152 Under the presidency of Judge Cançado Trindade, the court’s interpretation reflected a strong commitment to human rights law.

Similarly, the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) has approached investment agreements through ‘overarching norms’, reflecting a conception of order under international law where human rights are accorded primacy.Footnote 153 For example, the former independent expert on the promotion of a democratic and equitable international order has claimed that ‘in case of conflict, only the highest public courts can decide in the light of the totality of international law. Until amended by States Members, the Charter of the United Nations remains the principal treaty that determines the structure and functioning of the international order.’Footnote 154 Therefore ‘[s]tates must ensure that all trade and investment agreements recognize the primacy of human rights and specify that, in case of conflict, human rights obligations prevail’.Footnote 155 In the eyes of the independent expert, international investment norms and human rights were to be integrated within a hierarchical form ordered through the principle of binding character of treaties, good faith and in conformity with article 103 of the United Nations Charter.Footnote 156

In its General Comment 24, the UN Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights articulated a similar hierarchical conception of order between competing legalities.Footnote 157 The Committee claimed that: ‘[s]tates parties should identify any potential conflict between their obligations under the Covenant and under trade or investment treaties, and refrain from entering into such treaties where such conflicts are found to exist, as required under the principle of the binding character of treaties’.Footnote 158 The group of experts distinguished ‘investment treaties currently in force’ from ‘future treaties’. In the first case, interpretation ‘should take into account the human rights obligations of the state, consistent with Article 103 of the Charter of the United Nations and with the specific nature of human rights obligations’.Footnote 159 In the second case, ‘[states parties] are encouraged to insert, in future treaties, a provision explicitly referring to their human rights obligations, and to ensure that mechanisms for the settlement of investor–state disputes take human rights into account in the interpretation of investment treaties or of investment chapters in trade agreements’.Footnote 160 The Committee’s stance towards the investment protection suborder reproduced the Inter-American Court of Human Rights’ approach discussed in Section 7.4.3.

Over time, human rights specialists have combined ‘overarching norms’ with less imposing practices aimed at persuading states to take account of their human rights obligations when making new investment agreements. One example is the 2018 initiative ‘Crowd-Drafting: Designing a Human Rights-Compatible International Investment Agreement’.Footnote 161 Its promoters referred to a ‘human rights-based approach’ to international investment treaty-making.Footnote 162 Attempts at crafting a ‘human rights impact assessment’ norm, addressed both at states parties to international investment agreementsFootnote 163 as well as companies as part of their due diligence obligations, fall within these accommodation strategies.Footnote 164 The United Nations Conference on Trade and Development’s (UNCTAD) initiatives to investment law reform have adopted a similar approach, seeking to promote greater convergence with human rights and sustainable development norms, as exemplified by the UNCTAD’s Investment Policy Framework for Sustainable Development.Footnote 165 Most recently, overarching norms seem to have informed the ongoing struggle for a new international ‘instrument’ on global business and human rights, as reflected in particular in article 14 of its second revised draft, which demands that investment agreements be consistent ‘with international law principles and instruments’.Footnote 166

7.4.4 Reforming Investment Adjudication

The effects of entangled legalities have often been located in the Global South, in places where foreign investments affect local communities. At these sites, often characterized by a multilayered and scattered legal landscape where transnational and domestic bodies of norms contradict each other,Footnote 167 local populations have mobilized human rights against the state and global capital.Footnote 168 Local communities have contested the proximity of investment protection norms to their domestic legal order,Footnote 169 but their claims have received little consideration in investment jurisprudence.Footnote 170 In recent years, struggles against investment protection have become visible in the Global North, too. Particularly in Europe, citizens, environmental activists and other political actors have used contestatory mechanisms to distance investment treaties from their domestic legal orders. Protests and claims of political parties and NGOs against the intrusion of the Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership (TTIP), CETA and the ISDS norm into the European legal order and the constitutional order of EU member states have been one manifestation of this practice of resistance.Footnote 171 In this context, European institutions and courts, too, have become important actors. The European Commission’s proposal to replace ISDS with a multilateral investment court might open a space for a wider number of actors to create different forms of relations with human rights.Footnote 172 The Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU) has recently shown a sign of resistance to investor–state arbitration by ruling that the ISDS provision in BITs between EU member states is ‘not compatible’ with EU law.Footnote 173 By contrast, in its recent ‘CETA Opinion’, the CJEU has shown more openness to the prospect of an investment court system.Footnote 174

In the context of ISDS reform, currently under the auspices of UNCITRAL Working Group III, the debate has focused on procedural and institutional design issues rather than on questions about the relations between investment protection and other substantive norms.Footnote 175 However, some states and international institutions have emphasized connections with human rights, too. For example, in a letter addressed to participants in the ISDS reform process, human rights experts have highlighted that international investment agreements are often incompatible with international human rights law and the rule of law.Footnote 176 They called for a ‘fundamental systemic change’ of ISDS, beyond procedural reform, and towards a ‘multilateral system’ that ‘takes into account the rights and obligations of investors and states, in line with all applicable international laws and standards concerning human rights’.Footnote 177 They also claimed that greater proximity to human rights and the Sustainable Development Goals would enhance the legitimacy and effectiveness of the UNCITRAL process.Footnote 178 The government of South Africa has also strongly advocated to take account of human rights and the principle of sustainable development.Footnote 179

7.5 Conclusion

This chapter has analysed how relations between international investment and human rights norms have been construed in multiple global governance sites. Investment treaty arbitration has remained a central arena where foreign investors, states, investment adjudicators and NGOs have supplied competing forms of relation between bodies of norms, especially when defining the law applicable to the dispute. These relations have reflected the preferences and the ideational context of the actors involved in their construction.

In the majority of cases examined, the claims of investment arbitrators, investors and states have been given greater consideration than the claims by NGOs and the public at large, limiting room for contestation. Foreign investors have sought to narrow the scope of relevant bodies of norms whereas states and NGOs have aimed at expanding it. Over time, ISDS participants, and investment adjudicators in particular, have tended to regard relations with human rights norms with less hesitancy. Although the decisions of investment tribunals affect many constituencies, possibilities for these affected outsiders to make their claims heard in investment arbitration have been limited. Their priorities have often been silenced in sites of investment treaty negotiation too.

The analysis has observed an evolution in the way actors have dealt with human rights in ISDS over time, although dialectic tendencies of proximity and distancing persist. Initially, foreign investors adopted a clear rhetoric against the relevance of human rights in ISDS. In a second phase, they recognized their relevance but they kept them at a distance to downplay any potential conflict with investment protection standards. As states began to refer to human rights norms in their defences, investment tribunals had to find ways to articulate relations with them. The current phase seems marked by a very limited reliance on human rights on the part of investors and tribunals and more frequent linkages construed by states and NGOs, thereby creating entanglement on a rhetorical level but one constantly undercut by using other tools to create distance. In most of the cases examined, ISDS participants have used ‘overarching norms’ to order legal pluralism within international law, which may be explained by reference to the cultural and institutional context of ISDS. However, the dominant use of this ‘interface norm’ has not led to a new, fully integrated system as considerable contestation persists in other parts of the legal order. Indeed, forms and dynamics of entanglement have become observable in struggles ‘at the margins’ of and beyond the bounds of ISDS. These forms of contestation have led to a process of reform of international investment agreements and investment adjudication that may create room for shaping new forms of relations with human rights. However, only the future practice of actors will tell us how they will be construed. In the different contexts examined, the practice of taking other norms ‘into account’ has been one of the main tools for ordering multiplicity, yet without determining the substantive outcome of the practice of giving regard to other bodies of norms. Even when using this interface norm, ISDS participants have had discretion to determine the relative weight of the legalities brought together. Human rights actors have also had recourse to a similar interface norm when articulating their views of the relation with investment agreement, but their vision of legal order differs from the one put forward in the practice of investment arbitration.

8 International Trade Law Legal Entanglement on the WTO’s Own Terms

Lucy Lu Reimers
8.1 Introduction

Ever since the inception of the contemporary globalized trade regime, environmental concerns found their way into the regulatory system framed by international trade law. The interaction (and tension) between trade and environmental interests further intensified with the development of international environmental law, and global trade was placed under the scrutiny of two overlapping regulatory regimes which are commonly perceived as having diverging aims and rationales. A pronounced outlet for this relationship was found within the World Trade Organization (WTO) system, particularly in trade disputes in which WTO rules interacted with public policies seeking to address environmental externalities. This chapter explores the way in which the relationship between international trade law and norms governing environmental protection are construed from within the WTO dispute settlement system. The findings shine a light on evolving forms of legal entanglement that challenge the dominant perception of the WTO as an insular regime prima facie hostile to international environmental law. Surprisingly, the analysis shows that even in controversial trade environment disputes (e.g. infamously Tuna Dolphin I), all parties to the dispute routinely refer to norms of international environmental law to make their respective claims. With respect to the Panels and the Appellate Body, the findings indicate that external environmental norms are allowed to penetrate WTO law more often than commonly assumed, although such linkages do not necessarily result in more ‘environmentally friendly’ interpretations/applications of trade law. Moreover, without centralized coordination, WTO judicial bodies tend to construe the relationship with outside norms in an ad hoc and discretionary way, relying on ‘interface norms’ to invoke external rules of international environmental law on a case-by-case basis, while keeping them formally at bay. Although the mechanisms of relationing employed by the WTO judicial bodies may seem unprincipled at first glance, an analysis over time reveals how the Panels and the Appellate Body repeatedly emphasize certain attributes in their treatment of outside norms (such as multilateralism, inclusiveness and consensus), and have allowed for more progressive interpretations to evolve over time (through so-called irritative norm conflict).

8.2 Trade and Environment: Resetting the Stage for an Age-Old Debate
8.2.1 Trade and Environment: Unresolved Tensions and Emerging Forms of Entanglement

The General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) was signed in 1947 on the cusp of what has been dubbed the ‘Great Acceleration’, a period of intensified human impact on the Earth that over the latter half of the twentieth century significantly contributed to the global environmental challenges we face today.Footnote 1 International environmental law was still in its ‘early glimmers’.Footnote 2 Nevertheless, the 1947 GATT already ‘recognized environmental concerns in its Article XX(b) and (g) exceptions’.Footnote 3 By 1994, and the founding of the WTO, the extent of human-wrought environmental degradation had become increasingly apparent, and international environmental law had developed and matured into its modern incarnation of a sprawling global governance complex. Two years prior, the United Nations Conference on Environment and Development had taken place in Rio de Janeiro, and produced a number of instruments, including the Rio Declaration, Agenda 21, the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) and the Convention on Biodiversity (CBD).

Notably, modern international environmental law evolved within an international legal environment in which international trade rules were already long established and could not be ignored. The drafters in Rio took these existing legal structures into account by explicitly integrating international trade norms into the new instruments. Principle 12 of the Rio Declaration, for example, emphasizes the importance of ‘an open international economic system’ and states that ‘[t]rade policy measures for environmental purposes should not constitute a means of arbitrary or unjustifiable discrimination or a disguised restriction on international trade’, which is almost a word-for-word copy of the chapeau of GATT Article XX.Footnote 4 Notably, the same wording is reproduced in Article 3(5) of the UNFCCC.Footnote 5 Thus, international environmental law was actively entangled with the body of norms that governs the multilateral trading system.

From within the trade law sphere, efforts at legal entanglement with international environmental law were more tentative. While a reference to sustainable development was included in the preamble to the Marrakesh Agreement establishing the WTO (1994), the 1947 GATT was incorporated wholesale into the new WTO Agreement, with no changes or additions to the environmental provisions of the original text indicating how WTO law should relate to international environmental law. This was problematic because a host of new multilateral environmental agreements (MEAs) had sprung up since 1947, some of which explicitly relied on potentially GATT-inconsistent trade measures for their implementation (e.g. the Basel Convention and the Montreal Protocol).Footnote 6 Further, the extent to which WTO rules restricted national environmental policy space also remained unclear, particularly in relation to environmental measures targeting processing and production methods (PPMs) and the applicability of the precautionary principle.Footnote 7

The lack of relationing can be explained by GATT signatories’ diverging interests with regard to trade and environment concerns at the time (and still prevailing today). While developed countries supported the integration of environmental standards into international trade policy to counter ‘environmental dumping’, developing countries resisted, fearing market access restrictions due to ‘green protectionism’.Footnote 8 Thus, a meaningful debate for greater integration of environmental concerns within the trade regime was ‘out of the question’. Politically, the ‘environmental critique [also] came at an awkward time for GATT signatories since the Uruguay Round entered a deep crisis in the early 1990s, and the agricultural dispute between the USA and the EU threatened to scupper talks’.Footnote 9 Thus, an opportunity for entanglement – or at least clarification – between the two bodies of norms was missed. This state of affairs was supposed to be remedied in the subsequent Doha Round of trade negotiations, which gave members a mandate to negotiate the relationship between WTO rules and specific trade obligations set out in MEAs.Footnote 10 The talks failed however (they were finally abandoned in 2015),Footnote 11 and thus a second opportunity for ‘enhancing mutual supportiveness’ was missed. Instead, it became incumbent upon the dispute settlement bodies to mediate the relationship between free trade and environmental protection (and, by extension, the ‘clash of interests’ between developed and developing countries).

8.2.2 The Question of Insularity

According to the provisions of the Dispute Settlement Understanding (DSU) the WTO dispute settlement mechanism ‘has exclusive [as well as compulsory and quasi-automatic] jurisdiction to resolve disputes arising from violations of the WTO covered agreements’.Footnote 12 The WTO Dispute Settlement Body (DSB) in particular has ‘the authority to establish panels, adopt panel and Appellate Body reports, maintain surveillance of implementation of rulings and recommendations, and authorize suspension of concessions and other obligations under the covered agreements’.Footnote 13 Without a centralized mechanism for resolving international trade and environment conflicts, nor a specialized environmental court, the DSB has become central to coordinating the relationship between WTO law and international environmental law. The Panels’ and the Appellate Body’s (unanticipated and unofficial) role in mediating the relationship between WTO law and external norms raises the question of whether (and to what extent) international law not contained in the covered agreements is applicable in WTO dispute settlement.

While the majority of scholars maintain a restrictive view regarding the extent to which other norms of international law may influence the interpretation and application of WTO law,Footnote 14 others have pointed out that the DSU does not contain an explicit limitation with regard to the applicable law.Footnote 15 The distinction between the jurisdiction of the WTO DSB and applicable law in WTO dispute settlement is relevant here.Footnote 16 While the jurisdiction of the WTO DSB is restricted to disputes arising out of the covered agreements,Footnote 17 WTO law contains no explicit provision which identifies or restricts the law that should apply to the disputes.Footnote 18 Thus, international law from all sources is potentially applicable as WTO law. Such a reading seems to be supported by the Panel in Korea-Government Procurement, which held that ‘Customary international law applies generally to the economic relations between the WTO Members […] to the extent that the WTO treaty agreements do not “contract out” from it.’Footnote 19 The Panel saw no basis ‘for arguing that the terms of reference [set out in the DSU] are meant to exclude reference to the broader rules of customary international law’.Footnote 20 There is no reason to assume why the same logic should not also apply with regard to the external rules of treaty law (applicable between the parties).

The degree to which ‘external’ international law has a bearing on WTO law is thus largely up to the discretion of the WTO dispute settlement bodies. However, the Panels and the Appellate Body are viewed as having made insufficient use of this flexibility,Footnote 21 and have been criticized for creating ‘a value hierarchy that [favours] trade over environmental concerns and [operates] as a barrier to the integration of environmental considerations into the law of the GATT/WTO’.Footnote 22 Thus, the dominant perception of international trade law is of a distinct legal system that is bounded, rigid and hostile to environmental norms and considerations. The following account of irritative norm conflict complicates this picture.

8.3 Irritative Norm Conflict and Contingent Forms of Entanglement over Time

The debate about whether trade liberalization and environmental protection are in conflict with one another is not new and does not need to be rehashed in detail here.Footnote 23 Suffice to say that many environmentalists and scholars have long criticized the legal framework established by the GATT and the WTO as ‘inherently biased against environmental protection and towards economic growth’.Footnote 24 GATT jurisprudence, beginning with the Tuna Dolphin I, seemed to confirm the prioritization of international trade obligations vis-à-vis environmental protection.Footnote 25 However, a close reading of the trade and environment disputes over time reveals subtle shifts in the relationship between the WTO and environmental norms and a modicum of responsiveness of the GATT – and later the WTO – dispute settlement bodies towards evolving social context and external pressures, most prominently in Shrimp-Turtle.

Disputes brought before the WTO DSB constitute important historical ‘flashpoints’ for the study of legal entanglement, as they galvanize actors to formulate claims about the relationship between international trade law and other bodies of norms in legal terms.

8.3.1 Tuna Dolphin I
8.3.1.1 Overview

Tuna Dolphin I was a highly controversial trade and environment case brought to the GATT dispute settlement mechanism by Mexico in 1991.Footnote 26 The dispute concerned US measures aimed at reducing dolphin mortality incidental to tuna fishing, a practice common in the Eastern Tropical Pacific (ETP) region. The measures comprised an embargo on yellowfin tuna caught with purse seine nets in the ETP, certification requirements for imported tuna and a prohibition on marking tuna products harvested in the ETP with purse seine nets as ‘dolphin safe’. While the dispute became notorious for the Panel’s hard-line position on environmental trade measures, it is notable from the perspective of legal entanglement as – contrary to expectations – both parties to the dispute referred to international environmental law to support their respective claims. Tuna Dolphin I was closely followed by the filing of a second dispute in 1992 – known as Tuna Dolphin II – in which the European Communities (EC) challenged the United States’ secondary embargo against countries that re-exported tuna from countries under the primary embargo.Footnote 27

8.3.1.2 Legal Entanglement

Notably, both the United States and Mexico implicitly accepted the relevance of international environmental treaty law to the dispute at hand (in addition to relevant GATT provisions). The United States, invoking the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES), argued that countries should not be forced to allow access to their markets as an incentive to depleting the populations of species that are vital components of the ecosystem.Footnote 28 Mexico countered by stating that CITES ‘did not include in its Appendix I list of species in danger of extinction any of the species of dolphins which the United States was claiming to protect’.Footnote 29

The Panel, finding a violation of the GATT’s substantive provisions (relating to quantitative restrictions and non-discrimination), turned to the environmental exceptions contained in GATT Article XX. In a fateful decision, the Panel interpreted a purely domestic scope to Article XX and ruled that its exceptions could not be invoked to justify extraterritorial measures.Footnote 30 Trade restrictions in response to other countries’ environmental policies or practices were per se inconsistent with the GATT.Footnote 31 However, the Panel proceeded to argue that even if the GATT permitted extraterritorial protection of life and health, the United States had to first exhaust all GATT-consistent measures available to it, in particular through the negotiation of international cooperative agreements.Footnote 32 This reasoning already hints at a general (though still implicit) understanding that environmental measures should be based on multilateral consensus in order to be taken into account by the WTO DSB/within the GATT framework, a notion that was further developed in subsequent case law.

Ultimately, the Panel ruled in favour of Mexico, concluding that the US trade embargo was inconsistent with the GATT and not justified under Article XX. Crucially, the Panel also set up the ‘infamous product/process distinction’ – prompting a debate that continues to this day – by ruling that the US was not allowed to embargo tuna products from Mexico based on the way tuna was produced.Footnote 33 The Panel took a more environmentally favourable stance with regard to the ‘dolphin-safe’ label, ruling that it did not violate the GATT ‘because the labelling regulations governing the tuna caught in the ETP […] applied to all countries whose vessels fished in this geographical area and thus did not distinguish between products originating in Mexico and products originating in other countries’.Footnote 34 Notably, this measure became subject to a subsequent dispute brought by Mexico in 2008, in US-Tuna II. The Panel reports in Tuna Dolphin I (1991) and II (1994) were never adopted due to the consensus requirement under old GATT dispute settlement rules.Footnote 35

8.3.1.3 Aftermath

Although the report remained unadopted, the Panel’s reasoning in Tuna Dolphin I generated widespread ‘controversy over the capacity of the multilateral trading system to accommodate legitimate environmental concerns’.Footnote 36 The United States, arguably one of the most powerful ‘shapers’ of the GATT/WTO legal regime, threatened to push for amendments to the GATT in light of international environmental objectives.Footnote 37 Proposals made towards this endeavour included a new ‘Environmental Code’ as a side agreement to the GATT and establishing an international tradeable pollution allowance system (similar to what was later instituted in the Kyoto Protocol) under the auspices of the GATT.Footnote 38 Although neither of the Tuna Dolphin I and II Panels’ reports were ever adopted and they retained little to no legal value following subsequent Appellate Body rulings, they significantly contributed to the perception of WTO insularity in relation to global environmental concerns.Footnote 39

8.3.2 Shrimp-Turtle
8.3.2.1 Overview

The legal outcome of the Shrimp-Turtle dispute was seen by many environmentalists as a breakthrough in the trade environment debate, indicating a more environmentally friendly interpretation of WTO law by the DSB. The dispute was brought jointly by India, Malaysia, Pakistan and Thailand, challenging a US environmental measure prohibiting the import of shrimp harvested without the use of Turtle Excluder Devices (TEDs). Not using TEDs during shrimp harvesting was linked to a high number of deaths of endangered species of sea turtles. The measures in Shrimp-Turtle ‘were thus closely analogous’ to those in Tuna Dolphin with the crucial difference that sea turtles were listed as endangered species in CITES.Footnote 40

8.3.2.2 Legal Entanglement

Like in Tuna Dolphin I, both the complainants and the defendant state invoked outside environmental norms – especially treaty law – to support their respective claims. The United States referred to the CITES Appendix I, implying that CITES provided a legal basis for its environmental trade measure.Footnote 41 The USA further claimed that the use of TEDs had evolved into an international standard, invoking Agenda 21Footnote 42 as well as the UN Fish Stocks Agreement to support its claim.Footnote 43 The complainants, on the other hand, argued that the US measure was not only in violation of the GATT but also inconsistent with CITES: while CITES did prohibit trade in sea turtles, it did not sanction restrictions on shrimp imports as shrimp were not an endangered species listed in any of CITES’s annexes.Footnote 44

The reference to sustainable development in the Preamble of the WTO Agreement significantly altered the ‘backdrop’ against which substantive WTO obligations were to be interpreted. The USA noted that the WTO Agreement was the first multilateral trade agreement concluded after the Rio Conference, and argued that trade rules should now operate ‘in a manner that [respected] the principle of sustainable development and [protected] and [preserved] the environment’.Footnote 45 The complainants, however, were quick to qualify of the reference to sustainable development by reading it in light of the principle of sovereignty and the special rights of developing countries under the WTO framework.Footnote 46

The dispute forced the Panel to revisit the question of extraterritoriality in relation to Article XX of the GATT. Although both the United States and the complainants had put forward arguments relating to how Article XX should be interpreted in light of outside norms (inter alia UNCLOSFootnote 47 and general principles of international lawFootnote 48), the Panel restricted itself to interpreting Article XX within the object and purpose of WTO law and relevant jurisprudence. Echoing the GATT Panel’s reasoning in Tuna Dolphin I, it found that Article XX could not justify measures conditioning market access upon the adoption of certain environmental policies by exporting members as that would threaten the security and predictability of the multilateral framework for trade.Footnote 49

The Panel did not completely ignore international environmental law, however. It drew on the Rio Declaration to interpret the reference to sustainable development in the WTO Agreement, but used it to emphasize the right of each state to design its own environmental policies on the basis of its particular environmental and developmental situations.Footnote 50 The Panel further emphasized the principle of international cooperation by reference to inter alia Article 5 of the CBD (despite the USA not being a party to the CBD).Footnote 51 The Panel found that instead of resorting to unilateral measures the USA should have entered into negotiations to develop internationally accepted conservation methods.Footnote 52

The Panel proceeded to examine whether international environmental law provided a justification for the WTO-inconsistent measure.Footnote 53 The Panel concluded that CITES ‘neither authorized nor prohibited’ the US import prohibition as it was directed at shrimp and not listed species of sea turtles.Footnote 54 Furthermore, while acknowledging that UNCLOS and Agenda 21 addressed the objective of limiting by-catches of non-target species in trawling operations, the Panel noted that these instruments do not require the application of specific methods.Footnote 55

Even though the Panel’s finding in Shrimp-Turtle is generally regarded as an environmental setback (primarily due to its restrictive interpretation of Article XX), it is remarkable from the standpoint of legal entanglement as all parties involved in the dispute frequently and directly referred to external environmental norms/instruments to support their claims. Notably, international environmental law was invoked both to support a flexible (i.e. environmentally friendly) as well as a more restrictive (i.e. trade-friendly) interpretation of GATT Article XX.

8.3.2.3 Appeal

On appeal, the Appellate Body acknowledged the right of WTO members to legislate for the protection of natural resources extraterritorially, overruling the Panel’s finding.Footnote 56 Accordingly, Article XX could justify measures conditioning market access on the adoption of certain conservation policies by exporting members.Footnote 57 Contrary to the Panel, the Appellate Body proceeded to take full advantage of the reference to sustainable development in the WTO Agreement in order to interpret the environmental exceptions of Article XX. It noted that the preamble gives ‘colour, texture and shading’ to the substantive obligations in the WTO agreements.Footnote 58 In particular, the Appellate Body held that because migratory sea turtles were listed under CITES as being in danger of extinction, they constituted ‘exhaustible natural resources’ within the meaning of Article XX(g) of the GATT.Footnote 59 The Appellate Body further stated that ‘[t]he words of Article XX(g) “exhaustible natural resources” […] must be read by a treaty interpreter in the light of contemporary concerns of the community of nations about the protection and conservation of the environment […] From the perspective embodied in the Preamble of the WTO Agreement, the generic term of “natural resources” in Article XX(g) is not “static” in its content or reference but is rather, “by definition evolutionary”’.Footnote 60

Ultimately, however, the Appellate Body found that while ‘the overall approach of the US shrimp ban was acceptable under the WTO’, the USA had failed to do justice to the requirements of the chapeau of Article XX.Footnote 61 The Appellate Body held that in its application, the US measure had ‘intended an actual coercive effect on the specific policy decisions made by foreign governments’ since the application of the measure required other WTO members to demonstrate that a regulatory scheme was in place, which was essentially the same as in the USA.Footnote 62 In addition, the Appellate Body also faulted the United States for having negotiated seriously with some but not other members about arrangements for sea turtle protection (as an alternative to the embargo), which had a discriminatory effect.Footnote 63 To determine whether the discrimination was also ‘unjustifiable’ in relation to the stated objective of protecting sea turtles, the Appellate Body turned to international environmental law.Footnote 64 Invoking the Rio Declaration (Principle 12), Agenda 21 and the CBD (Article 5), the Appellate Body found that the protection and conservation of highly migratory species of sea turtles demanded ‘concerted and co-operative efforts’,Footnote 65 and that, in general, transboundary/global environmental problems should be dealt with through cooperation and consensus to the greatest extent possible.Footnote 66

8.3.2.4 Aftermath

Following the Appellate Body’s ruling, which concerned the discriminatory application of the US measure, the United States made modifications in order comply with the ruling. Nevertheless, one of the original complainants, Malaysia, brought a compliance action under Article 21.5 of the DSU, ‘where it sought to reintroduce arguments about the per se unacceptability of trade measures to target other countries’ environmental policy’.Footnote 67 However, the Appellate Body ‘held its ground’, ‘[pronouncing] itself fully satisfied that the USA had addressed its concerns under the chapeau’, while ‘[expressing] surprise that Malaysia would, in effect, challenge the authority of the Appellate Body’s original ruling with arguments apparently inconsistent with it’.Footnote 68 The rulings in Shrimp-Turtle and the subsequent compliance proceedings thus represent a significant departure from the way the Tuna Dolphin cases had been handled by the GATT Panels. The Appellate Body corrected previous rulings with regard to PPM-based measures and extraterritorial environmental trade measures, while signalling a larger degree of deference towards members’ environmental objectives.

8.3.3 EC-Hormones
8.3.3.1 Overview

The EC-Hormones dispute before the WTO illustrates how the Agreement on Sanitary and Phytosanitary Measures (SPS Agreement) operates in relation to international standards and in relation to other norms of international law, specifically the precautionary principle.Footnote 69 Like the Agreement on Technical Barriers to Trade (TBT Agreement) (see US-Tuna II), the SPS Agreement goes beyond the non-discrimination principles enshrined in the GATT by promoting ‘global regulatory harmonization through the application of international standards’.Footnote 70 By requiring WTO members to base their measures on either international standards or on science and risk assessment (Articles 3.1 and 3.2), the SPS Agreement actively encourages legal entanglement in the area of sanitary and phytosanitary measures. The SPS Agreement explicitly recognizes specific international standardizing bodies as points of reference for compliance, including the Codex Alimentarius Commission (CAC’).Footnote 71 Conformity with Codex standards implies conformity with WTO law,Footnote 72 whereas a member’s decision to set standards higher than Codex standards is subject to a higher burden of proof to defend its own measures.

From the perspective of legal entanglement, the implications of this active coupling mechanism between the SPS Agreement and international standards versus the way WTO law relates to other norms of international law is significant. The WTO’s contrasting approaches to entanglement are best demonstrated in the EC-Hormones case. In the 1990s, following widespread public concern, the European Council introduced a set of measures prohibiting the placing on the market of hormone-injected meat. In 1996, the United States challenged these measures and brought the dispute before the WTO alleging violations of inter alia the SPS Agreement.Footnote 73

8.3.3.2 Legal Entanglement

The CAC had already developed standards for some of the hormonal substances concerned. The USA therefore contested the EC’s measures on the grounds that they were not based on the relevant international standards, guidelines or recommendations and that this departure from international standards could not be scientifically justified. The EC countered that WTO members had the right to choose their own levels of protection, which may be higher than those recommended by international standards, invoking the precautionary principle as a justification for a higher protection level.Footnote 74 While the SPS Agreement requires members to base their measures on risk assessments and available scientific data, the precautionary principle allows countries to take measures in the face of scientific uncertainty. Notably, the EC did not invoke Article 5.7 of the SPS Agreement which permits members to take interim measures in the face of insufficient scientific evidence and is generally viewed as reflecting the precautionary principle in the context of the SPS Agreement. The EC reasoned that this decision was deliberate because the measures were considered definitive and not provisional.Footnote 75 The EC also pointed out that the Codex standards had been adopted by a very slim margin in what was ordinarily a consensus-based system. By questioning the level of support for the Codex standards the EC expressed expectations about the substantive dimensions of the interface norm contained in the SPS Agreement: international standards should only be taken into account if they are considered legitimate, as indicated by widespread to universal acceptance during adoption.Footnote 76 The Panel rejected the need to consider by what margin any relevant standard was adopted,Footnote 77 and found that the EC measure violated the SPS Agreement by deviating from the relevant international standard (in the sense that it afforded a higher level of protection) without sufficient justification.Footnote 78 Further, the Panel found that the precautionary principle (to the extent that it could be considered as part of customary international law) ‘would not override the explicit wording’ of SPS provisions relating to risk assessment techniques (and scientific evidence), ‘in particular since the precautionary principle [had] been incorporated and given specific meaning in Article 5.7 of the SPS Agreement’.Footnote 79 The harmonization logic of the SPS Agreement thus contributed to lowering a member’s chosen protection threshold – in accordance with international standards adopted with only tenuous international support – while a relevant norm of international law (the precautionary principle) was dismissed in the process.

8.3.3.3 Appeal

The EC appealed the ruling, arguing that the precautionary principle’s applicability extended beyond Article 5.7 to influence risk assessment (and risk management) under Article 5.1 of the SPS Agreement, and thus operated to justify higher protection thresholds.Footnote 80 Notably the EC did not refer to the precautionary principle in the context of international environmental law but in the context of general and customary international law. The Appellate Body, siding with the Panel, found that while the precautionary principle may have crystallized in the field of international environmental law, its status as customary international law or a general principle of law was less certain. By relegating the principle to the confines of international environmental law, the Appellate Body downplayed its relevance for the dispute at hand. Further, the Appellate Body stated that ‘the precautionary principle does not, by itself, and without a clear textual directive to that effect, relieve a panel from the duty of applying the normal (i.e. customary international law) principles of treaty interpretation in reading the provisions of the SPS Agreement’.Footnote 81 In effect, the Appellate Body communicated that whatever the state of the precautionary principle in international law was, ‘the principle could not override the explicit obligations contained in the SPS Agreement and it could not be used to justify measures otherwise inconsistent with the SPS Agreement’.Footnote 82 The EC ultimately ‘lost’ the case as its measures were found not to have been based on appropriate risk assessment: the EC could neither prove ‘laboratory scientific evidence’ nor ‘real-world risk’ (misuse in the administration of hormones to animals).Footnote 83 This ruling flies in the face of the precautionary principle (as codified for example in Principle 15 of the Rio Declaration), the purpose of which is precisely to empower governments in the face of scientific uncertainty.

Nevertheless, the Appellate Body did point out that ‘a panel charged with determining for instance, whether “sufficient scientific evidence” exists to warrant the maintenance by a Member of a particular SPS measure may […] bear in mind that responsible, representative governments commonly act from the perspectives of prudence and precaution where risks of irreversible, e.g., life-terminating, damage to human health are concerned’.Footnote 84 This statement implies a greater degree of flexibility where the future application of Article 5 is concerned; the implication is that in cases of grave potential damage, Panels are to content themselves with a lower evidentiary standard for assessing a measure’s SPS consistency.Footnote 85

8.3.3.4 Aftermath

Following the EC-Hormones disputes, the EC made a concerted push for strengthening the precautionary principle in international law. After having unsuccessfully advocated for a renegotiation of relevant provisions within the SPS Agreement, the EC turned its attention to multilateral fora outside the WTO.Footnote 86 In 2000, the Cartagena Protocol on Biosafety to the Convention on Biological Diversity (the ‘Biosafety Protocol’) was agreed upon, which regulates risks associated with the transboundary movement of living modified organisms. The Biosafety Protocol ‘[reaffirms] the precautionary approach contained in Principle 15 of the Rio Declaration on Environment and Development’Footnote 87 and grants importing states the right to make decisions that would avoid or reduce potential adverse effects in the face of scientific uncertainty.Footnote 88 The Biosafety Protocol thus ‘multilateralizes the EU regulatory approach’ towards sanitary measures, opening the door to other countries to adopt restrictive, EU-style market access rules.Footnote 89 Unsurprisingly, one of the most contentious issues during the negotiation process was the Protocol’s relationship with international trade law.Footnote 90 In this regard, the preamble ‘[recognizes] that trade and environment agreements should be mutually supportive with a view to achieving sustainable development’ and ‘[emphasizes] that [the] Protocol shall not be interpreted as implying a change in the rights and obligations of a Party under any existing international agreements’ (while also ‘understanding that the above recital [was] not intended to subordinate [the] Protocol to other international agreements’). The EC also successfully campaigned for the inclusion of the precautionary principle in the risk assessment techniques developed by the Codex Alimentarius Commission.Footnote 91 As a result, two newly negotiated documents, the 2003 and 2007 Working Principles for Risk Analysis for Food Safety for Application by Governments, recognize precaution as an inherent element of risk assessment.Footnote 92

After several years of keeping its genetically modified organism (GMO) measures in place while accepting the punitive tariffs imposed by the USA and Canada in return, the EC was able to produce scientific evidence to prove risk from synthetic growth hormones. The EC subsequently amended its law to bring them into compliance with the Appellate Body’s ruling.Footnote 93 Nevertheless, the USA and Canada continued to retaliate, prompting the EC to challenge the legality of continued retaliatory measures in 2005. This ‘follow-up dispute’ Canada/US – Continued Suspension (2008), gave the Appellate Body the opportunity to revisit its previous ruling (in light of the new normative developments that had occurred outside the WTO). In Canada/US – Continued Suspension, the Appellate Body developed the concepts of ‘risk assessment’ and ‘sufficiency of scientific evidence’ as ‘relational concepts’ implying that issues such as ‘the appropriate level of protection’ chosen by a government could shape the methodology and questions studied in risk assessment.Footnote 94 The Appellate Body also relativized the centrality of international standards and conceded that scientific evidence could be sufficient for one member but not for another.Footnote 95 This more deferential approach towards members’ right to regulate on the basis of precaution significantly departed from the Appellate Body’s initial reasoning in EC-Hormones.Footnote 96

8.3.4 EC-Biotech
8.3.4.1 Overview

The EC-Biotech dispute represents another deliberation on the extent to which the precautionary principle is applicable in relation to the SPS Agreement. In 2003, three exporters of agricultural products containing GMOs – the United States, Canada and Argentina – challenged the EC on some of its measures relating to GMOs. The EC had instituted a moratorium on the approval of GMOs during the period of October 1998 and August 2003 and, in addition, some EC member states had put in place national restrictions on GMOs and genetically modified foods. Notably, the EC’s regulatory regime for GMOs was (and is) significantly informed by the precautionary principle.

The dispute came on the heels of the adoption of the Biosafety Protocol, which was not only substantively relevant to the dispute at hand (namely GMO-related measures) but also incorporated a more robust version of the precautionary principle than the SPS Agreement.Footnote 97 Indeed, the complaint has been viewed as implicitly targeting the Biosafety Protocol in order to weaken its relevance for the SPS Agreement.Footnote 98 With regard to the trade–environment interface, the Panel’s reasoning in EC-Biotech is widely viewed as a setback for a mutually supportive relationship as the Panel prima facie dismissed the relevance of the Biosafety Protocol to the dispute.

8.3.4.2 Legal Entanglement

The EC justified some of the EC members’ national bans by invoking the precautionary principle as codified in the Biosafety Protocol. The EC argued that the SPS Agreement and the Biosafety Protocol were ‘so closely connected that they should be interpreted and applied consistently with each other, to the extent that is possible’; the two agreements were ‘complimentary’ and therefore ‘the Protocol’s provisions on precaution and risk assessment inform the meaning and effect of the relevant provisions of the WTO agreements’.Footnote 99 The complainants were not parties to the Protocol and rejected its application to the dispute. They argued that the Protocol did not constitute a ‘relevant rule of international law applicable in the relations between the parties’ and should therefore not be taken into account in the interpretation of the obligations under the WTO Agreement.Footnote 100

An amicus curiae brief is of note in the context of EC-Biotech as it makes additional claims about how the interface between trade law and environmental concerns/precaution should be managed. In its submission, the Centre for International Environmental Law (CIEL) noted that the Appellate Body had emphasized the importance, in certain circumstances, of interpreting terms in the WTO agreements in light of ‘the contemporary concerns of the community of nations’ (see Shrimp-Turtle).Footnote 101 CIEL argued that ‘interpreting bodies’ consequently had a responsibility ‘to take into account [external treaties not ratified by all parties to the treaty being interpreted], especially when they address issues of global concern where the interests of the international community were involved’.Footnote 102

8.3.4.3 Aftermath

The EC decided not to appeal the ruling of the Panel and instead pursued a ‘Mutually Agreed Solution’, decided between Canada and the EU in 2009, which established ‘a bilateral dialogue on agricultural biotech market access issues of mutual interest’.Footnote 103 This cooperation agreement was subsequently reaffirmed in the EU–Canada Comprehensive Economic and Trade Agreement (CETA), which largely reproduced the text of the Mutually Agreed Solution in Article 25.2(1). Thus, CETA institutionalizes international cooperation on biotech market access and inter alia sets out the shared objective of promoting ‘efficient science-based approval processes for biotechnology products [emphasis added]’. This provision was criticized as running counter to the EC’s strict regulation of GMOs as informed by the precautionary approach and has generated concerns around the weakening of GMO protections in the EU.Footnote 104 Arcuri points out that while ‘international cooperation’ may sound innocuous and indeterminate, the fact that an international body of norms on low-level presence of GMOs already exists (the Global Low-Level Presence Initiative) and given that most state members of this framework are GMO producers with a clear interest in lowering GMO protections, the requirement of international cooperation may in fact further skew international standards on GMO protections, to the detriment of the EC’s precautionary ‘zero tolerance’ approach.Footnote 105 At the same time, however, the preamble of the Joint Interpretative Instrument on the CETA ‘reaffirms the commitments made with respect to precaution that [the European Union and its members states and Canada] have undertaken in international agreements’, hence relativizing the provisions requiring science-based evaluations. Reading the relevant CETA provisions in the context of the 2003 and 2007 Codex Working Principles for Risk Analysis – which recognize precaution as an inherent element of risk analysis – further neutralizes their potential to weaken the precautionary principle.

8.3.5 US-Tuna II
8.3.5.1 Overview

Following the GATT Panels’ rulings in Tuna Dolphin I and II, ‘the United States eventually allowed all tuna, no matter how it had been harvested, to be sold in its market’ while reserving the ‘dolphin-safe’ label for tuna harvested in a particular manner.Footnote 106 In 2008, Mexico requested consultations with the United States with regard to its ‘dolphin-safe’ labelling requirements, initiating the next phase of the long-running tuna dolphin dispute. This section will focus primarily on how the Appellate Body in US-Tuna II (Mexico) (not to be confused with Tuna Dolphin II, the 1994 dispute initiated by the EC against the USA concerning its secondary embargo against re-exported tuna) shed light on how the relationship between the TBT Agreement and international standards should be construed. Like the SPS Agreement, the TBT Agreement requires the harmonization of national regulations on the basis of international standards (Article 2.4). However, unlike the SPS Agreement, which provides a list of international standard-setting organizations (such as the Codex Alimentarius Commission), the TBT Agreement does not list any institutional/authoritative sources of international standards. The question of what counts as an international standardizing body is important as such a classification automatically triggers the harmonization obligation (i.e. pressure for entanglement) established in Article 2.4 of the TBT.Footnote 107

Mexico challenged the ‘dolphin-safe’ labelling requirements as inconsistent with inter alia the TBT Agreement.Footnote 108 Notably, the (state-administered) voluntary labelling scheme was considered to be a mandatory technical regulation, thus falling within the remit of the TBT Agreement.Footnote 109 As such, Mexico claimed that the US measure should have been based on the relevant international standard (according to Article 2.4), specifically the labelling scheme established under the Agreement on the International Dolphin Conservation Program (AIDCP). Notably, the AIDCP is only a regional organization to which only a subset of WTO members adheres. The Panel and the Appellate Body were tasked with determining whether the AIDCP labelling scheme constituted an international standard within the meaning of the TBT Agreement. Section 8.3.5.2 focuses on the Appellate Body’s rulings as the Panel’s findings are of little relevance to the question of legal entanglement.

8.3.5.2 Legal Entanglement/Appeal

For the purposes of the TBT Agreement, ‘international standards are those adopted by international standardizing bodies, meaning those with recognized activities in standardization that are open on a non-discriminatory basis to relevant bodies of at least all WTO Members’.Footnote 110 While the Panel agreed with Mexico that the AIDCP was an international standardizing body,Footnote 111 the Appellate Body found that it did not fulfil the requirement of ‘openness’ because countries could only accede to the AIDCP by invitation.Footnote 112 As a result, the ‘AIDCP dolphin-safe definition and certification’ scheme did not constitute an international standard within the meaning of the TBT Agreement, and the USA was not required to base its domestic ‘dolphin-safe’ regulation upon it.

However, the Appellate Body did not stop there, clarifying further the meaning of ‘recognized’ activities in standardization. Considering that the resulting standards would apply to all WTO members, the Appellate Body found that recognition of international standardization activities had to go beyond the subset of WTO members participating in the standard-setting process, therefore ‘the larger the number of countries that participate in the development of a standard, the more likely it can be said that the respective body’s activities in standardization are “recognized”’.Footnote 113 Moreover, ‘[e]vidence of a body’s compliance with procedural and substantive safeguards formulated by WTO Members would be relevant for the question of whether its standardizing activities are “recognized” for the purposes of the TBT Agreement’.Footnote 114 In this context, the Appellate Body referred to a TBT Committee Decision from the year 2000 (‘the Decision’), which sets out guiding principles and procedures that standardizing bodies should observe when developing international standards, inter alia transparency, openness, impartiality and consensus.Footnote 115 The Decision is significant as it spells these principles out in some detail, thus defining a relatively precise guidance for the entanglement of WTO law with standards from other sources. In an early case under the TBT Agreement, EC-Sardines, the Panel had dismissed the Decision as ‘a [mere] policy statement of preference and not the controlling provision in interpreting the expression “relevant international standard” as set out in Article 2.4 of the TBT Agreement’.Footnote 116 In Tuna Dolphin II, the Appellate Body reversed this finding, stating that the Decision constituted a subsequent agreement of the parties in the meaning of Article 31(3)(a) VCLT and should be read together with the TBT.Footnote 117

The weight that the Appellate Body gave to the Decision is significant because it directly clarifies several points of contention with regard to interpreting the TBT and how it relates to international standards. Principle three, for example, explicitly emphasizes consensus as a requirement for international standards in the TBT Agreement, even though an explanatory note to TBT Annex I.2 states that the TBT also covers documents not based on consensus. Notably, the Appellate Body in EC-Sardines had rejected the consensus requirement.Footnote 118 The Appellate Body’s ruling in EC-Sardines had also implied a large measure of regulatory harmonization and ‘a very close fit or relationship between any technical regulation and the international standard, providing very little flexibility for regulatory diversity’.Footnote 119 By contrast, the Appellate Body in US-Tuna II resisted ‘demands for regulatory harmonization through Article 2.4’ by emphasizing the criteria contained in the Decision relating to transparency and meaningful participation.Footnote 120 Thus, the Appellate Body effectively transformed the Decision into ‘a code of administrative procedure and practice for international standardization’ in the vein of global administrative law.Footnote 121

Ultimately, the Appellate Body found that while the ‘dolphin-safe’ labelling provisions did not violate Article 2.4 of the TBT, they were inconsistent with Article 2.1 of the TBT because of a lack of even-handedness in the manner in which risks from different fishing techniques in different areas of the ocean were addressed.

8.3.5.3 Aftermath

In response to the Panel and the Appellate Body reports, the United States modified its dolphin-safe labelling requirements to comply with the Appellate Body’s ruling. However, the US measure continued to impose different certification and tracking and verification requirements depending on the fishery where the tuna was caught, with more burdensome requirements for tuna caught in the ETP. After several rounds of compliance proceedings, in which Mexico continued to challenge the United States’ measure due to discriminatory effects and with both parties repeatedly appealing, the Panel found that the US measure was not discriminatory and exonerated the USA from responsibility, a finding that the Appellate Body confirmed. The distinctions made in the United States’ measure (i.e. its discriminatory elements) were found to be calibrated to the different levels of risk posed by the practice of ‘setting’ on dolphins vis-à-vis other fishing methods. Thus, the detrimental impact caused by the US measure stemmed exclusively from a legitimate regulatory distinction and did not result in ‘treatment less favourable than that accorded to like products from the United States and other countries’ (consistency with Article 2.1 as well as with the chapeau of GATT Article XX).Footnote 122 The final compliance report (with no finding of non-compliance) was circulated to members in December 2018, and adopted in January 2019, thereby concluding a dispute that had run on for almost thirty years.

8.4 Main Findings
8.4.1 Irritative Norm Conflict Over Time

The unadopted Panel report in Tuna Dolphin I set the stage for an antagonistic relationship between the GATT-based multilateral trading system and environmental trade measures for the achievement of global environmental objectives. Through repeated ‘irritations’ of trade law by environmental norms (through litigation in the WTO combined with external pressure), subsequent rulings by Panels and the WTO Appellate Body significantly corrected/recalibrated controversial aspects of the trade and environment interface, a process that is referred to here as irritative norm conflict over time.Footnote 123

The ‘Tuna Dolphin saga’ (in which Shrimp-Turtle constitutes a crucial building block) illustrates how irritative norm conflict over a period of almost thirty years allowed WTO judicial bodies to adjust elements of previous jurisprudence that had ‘gone too far’ in asserting trade objectives over members’ right to regulate. Although Tuna Dolphin I had found unilateral environmental trade measures with extraterritorial effects prima facie incapable of justification under the GATT, the Appellate Body in Shrimp-Turtle reversed this finding and clarified that GATT Article XX could, in fact, justify measures conditioning market access on environmental policies/PPMs abroad – as long as the measures do not amount to arbitrary or unjustifiable discrimination.Footnote 124 As a result, the ruling of the Appellate Body in Shrimp-Turtle was widely perceived as ‘a bold attempt to construct a broader societal vision of the WTO […] more sensitive to environmental concerns’.Footnote 125 Both the Shrimp-Turtle import requirements and the Tuna Dolphin/US-Tuna II labelling provisions were ultimately found to be consistent with WTO law; however, this was only after the United States had been subjected to several (costly) rounds of litigation and revisions of the law. Thus, while environmental norms have gained clout in the WTO, the fundamental objective of the WTO system – an open international economic system – is preserved through the meticulous enforcement of non-discrimination principles.

In EC-Hormones, EC-Biotech, and Canada/US-Continued Suspension – a series of distinct but interrelated disputes – what was being negotiated was inter alia the scope/applicability of the precautionary principle in the WTO context. Repeated irritations of international trade rules (and pressure from both within and outside of the WTO) led to a shift in the Appellate Body’s construction of precaution in the WTO and SPS context (Canada/US-Continued Suspension). While the tension between the precautionary principle (as codified in international environmental law) and the emphasis on scientific evidence and risk assessment in the SPS Agreement is not completely resolved, the role of precaution has been significantly strengthened (both in WTO law and outside of it – e.g. in the Codex Alimentarius Commission and in the Biosafety Protocol). The compromise around the role of precaution versus scientific risk assessment in CETA shows how WTO dispute settlement is not the only arena in which actors negotiate and navigate irritative norm conflict.

Finally, it is of note that the appeals mechanism in the WTO serves to process – and to accelerate – irritative norm conflict, allowing the Appellate Body to make (rapid) adjustments in the wake of contentious Panel findings, member state pressure and public protest. ‘Follow-up’ disputes prompted by issues around compliance or continued retaliation also provide the opportunity for rebalancing or ‘fine-tuning’ previous findings (e.g. Canada/US-Continued Suspension).

8.4.2 Legal Entanglement (and Mechanisms of Distancing)

The narrative of competing objectives between international trade law and international environmental law obscures the way in which the two bodies of norms are already entangled, going as far back as Tuna Dolphin I (in which both parties made legal claims relating to international environmental law). All participants in the GATT/WTO dispute settlement system regularly invoke outside bodies of norms to justify their claims. The judicial bodies themselves have on several occasions inquired into possible legal bases/defences for WTO-inconsistent measures, grounded in international environmental law (e.g. the Panel in Shrimp-Turtle), and routinely draw on international environmental norms in their legal reasoning. Notably, this is not always done to advance ‘trade-friendly’ arguments. WTO disciplines on non-discrimination are often brought into relation with international environmental norms that emphasize international cooperation (e.g. the Panel and Appellate Body in Shrimp-Turtle). Consequently, a closer relationship between international trade law and international environmental law will not necessarily result in more ‘environmentally friendly’ rulings. In this vein, some of the foundational critiques directed at the multilateral trading system can also be levelled against the international environmental regime, which has incorporated into its body of norms a bias against unilateral trade measures and has embraced the objective of liberalized trade (e.g. Principle 12 of the Rio Declaration). The two bodies of norms have always been more entangled (and mutually reinforcing) than generally assumed.

The reference to sustainable development in the Preamble of the WTO Agreement plays a central ‘entangling’ function at the interface between trade and environment, opening the door for outside environmental norms to enter WTO law through GATT Article XX (e.g. in Shrimp-Turtle). However, such forms of relationing between international trade law and outside bodies of norms are tenuous and remain contingent on the Panels’ and Appellate Body’s willingness to take outside norms into consideration on a case-by-case basis – essentially at their discretion. For instance, while the Appellate Body in Shrimp-Turtle had referred to outside treaty law not binding on all the disputing parties (the CBD), the Panel in EC-Biotech rejected the applicability of the Biosafety Protocol because the United States was not a party to it, and it could therefore not be considered ‘applicable’ in the relations between the parties according to Article 31(3)(c) of the Vienna Convention.

Resistance to legal entanglement comes in the form of strategies for distancing. In EC-Hormones, various techniques for creating distancing between the precautionary principle and obligations under the SPS Agreement were employed by the disputants, the Panel and the Appellate Body, including (1) relegating the precautionary principle to the realm of international environmental law while calling into question the status of the precautionary principle as a general principle of international law or a rule of customary international law; (2) restricting the applicability of the precautionary principle to its (partial) reflection in the SPS Agreement (Article 5.7) but rejecting its general applicability with regard to other provisions (namely Articles 5.1 and 5.2); and (3) pointing to the absence of a ‘clear textual directive’ that would allow an external norm to affect the interpretation of a provision in a WTO Agreement. Article 3.2 of the DSU requires treaty interpreters to refer to any relevant rules of international law applicable in the relations between the parties (according to Article 31(3)(c) of the Vienna Convention). As customary and general international law is always applicable between all parties to a dispute, relevant customary norms or general principles of international law will more likely be brought into relation with WTO law than external treaty norms which may not have been ratified by all WTO members/parties in a given dispute. It is therefore unsurprising that emphasizing the customary or general international law nature of an external norm or lack thereof is a dominant mechanism for creating either entanglement or distancing between WTO law and other bodies of norms.

8.4.3 Interface Norms in the GATT/WTO Context

Although the relationship between WTO law and international environmental law is not centrally regulated, both bodies of norms contain ‘interface norms’ that guide forms of relationing to the other ‘from the inside out’. In the WTO context, Article XX of the GATT can be viewed as a reception norm, allowing external norms to enter into GATT law. The specific environmental terms mentioned in GATT Article XX serve as ‘docking points’ for environmental norms to connect to. Once made, such linkages endure even as external legal orders change over time, in turn influencing the interpretation of ‘coupled’ WTO norms. Notably, the chapeau of GATT Article XX sets out substantive criteria for the application of environmental measures by conditioning ‘entry’ on non-discrimination/even-handedness and multilateralism/international consensus (see Section 8.4.4).

Not all reception norms are textually explicit, however. The concept of ‘legitimate regulatory distinction’ to justify discriminatory treatment was read into Article 2.1 of the TBT Agreement by the Appellate Body through successive case law (including US-Tuna II). It allows for balancing TBT non-discrimination objectives/obligations with legitimate regulatory interventions (such as for environmental protection) and thus fulfils the same purpose as GATT Article XX, including – conceivably – as a reception norm. Similarly, even though Article 5.7 of the SPS Agreement does not mention the term ‘precaution’ as such, the provision is generally viewed as a reflection of the precautionary principle and thus allows for external bodies of norms related to the precautionary principle to enter into WTO law.

The reference to sustainable development in the Preamble of the WTO Agreement connects trade rules to the vast body of international environmental law (and the emerging field of ‘international sustainable development law’). As a connecting norm, somewhat akin to the multi-sourced equivalent norms identified by some,Footnote 126 the reference to sustainable development provides a linkage function and enhances the discretion of Panels and the Appellate Body to interpret the environmental exceptions of Article XX expansively (e.g. the Appellate Body in Shrimp-Turtle construed a close relationship between WTO rules and international environmental norms according to preambular directive). In this way, interface norms can be mutually supportive.

While the WTO, on the whole, keeps substantive norms from other areas of international law at bay, it actively seeks entanglement with international standards. International standards attract linkages with WTO law more readily due to the WTO’s inherent harmonization dynamic. This is done through the TBT and SPS Agreements, which coordinate the relationship between international standards and WTO harmonization obligations through Articles 2.4 and 3.1 respectively. The contrasting approaches to entanglement are best illustrated in EC-Hormones, where the Panel and the Appellate Body interpreted the SPS Agreement in a way as to promote entanglement with Codex norms, while creating distancing with an external substantive norm originally developed in the context of international environmental law, namely the precautionary principle.

8.4.4 Substantive Dimensions for Interface Norms

An important factor influencing the porosity of WTO law is whether the external norm is of multilateral origin or constitutes an international standard. Environmental measures based on multilateral consensus have a higher likelihood of being taken into account in the WTO context than unilateral measures with little international support (although this is not guaranteed, see the Panel’s dismissal of the Biosafety Protocol in EC-Biotech). This way of reasoning is in line with the notion that the interface between international trade law and other norms of international law is governed primarily by the customary rules on treaty interpretation (as codified in the Vienna Convention) that require any relevant rules of international law applicable in the relations between the parties to be taken into account together with context. As opposed to external treaty norms, customary international law binds all states and will always be binding on parties in a given trade dispute (no matter the constellation). It follows that linkages with external norms are more easily produced if the latter are considered general or customary international law (see Section 8.4.2), as well as when there are ‘docking norms’ in the text that can provide the Panel or the Appellate Body with a ‘textual directive’ – that is, a mandate – for linkage.

Further, entanglement between WTO law and international standards is explicitly encouraged through the TBT Agreement and the SPS Agreement, which promote the harmonization of national regulations on the basis of international standards. The substantive dimensions of entanglement between WTO law and international standards is gradually being ‘fleshed out’ with additional (still contested) criteria such as the level of international support for the adoption of the norm in question (consensus, broad membership, inclusiveness/participation). For example, in EC-Hormones the EC did not recognize a specific set of Codex standards as being ‘international standards’ due to the narrow margin by which it was adopted. The EC thus expressed expectations about the substantive dimensions of the interface norm contained in the SPS Agreement: international standards should only be taken into account if they are considered legitimate, as indicated by broad acceptance during adoption (see Section 8.3.3.2). While the Panel in EC-Hormones rejected the EC’s reasoning, the Appellate Body in US-Tuna II gave significant weight to a 2000 TBT Committee Decision, which contains a set of substantive criteria that qualify the appropriateness of international standards from the perspective of the WTO (specifically the TBT Agreement), including transparency, openness, consensus and effectiveness. In this regard, the Appellate Body also indicated that the number of countries participating in a standard-setting process relative to the total number of WTO members is relevant for the entry of international standards into WTO law via TBT Article 2.4.

8.5 Conclusion

This chapter addressed horizontal ways of relationing between international trade law and international environmental law, and explored how these different legalities respond to each other and manage tensions without subordination. The findings show how repeated ‘irritations’ of trade law through environmental norms, expressed in WTO dispute settlement and combined with external political pressure (including by building and harnessing pressure in other multilateral fora), can prompt ‘recalibrations’ at the interface of WTO law and encourage the clarification of the relationship over time. What emerges from this analysis is a kind of modified ‘island’ view of the WTO in relation to other bodies of norms. Interface norms allow for the contingent adaptation of ‘foreign’ rules into WTO law while broader systemic connections are resisted through mechanisms of distancing. Thereby new developments in international law can be reflected in jurisprudential interpretations without compromising the stated objective of ensuring the ‘security and predictability of the multilateral framework for trade’. To this end, the WTO regime actively encourages legal entanglement with international standards because harmonization helps facilitate trade. Ultimately, this chapter demonstrates how the WTO has successfully negotiated legal entanglement on its own terms and in service to the regime’s overarching goal of free trade.

Footnotes

6 Giving Due Consideration A Normative Pathway between UN Human Rights Treaty-Monitoring Bodies and Domestic Courts

1 The chapter’s analysis is based on my previous publication: M. Kanetake, ‘UN Human Rights Treaty Monitoring Bodies before Domestic Courts’ (2018) 67 International & Comparative Law Quarterly 201–32. For the sake of the previous publication, I have collected and analysed 150 domestic court decisions (decided from 1982 to 2016) across forty-one jurisdictions. For the sake of the present chapter, I have additionally collected and analysed forty other domestic court decisions (decided between 1992 and 2018) across twenty-one jurisdictions, based on my own research, existing literature, the Oxford Reports on International Law in Domestic Courts (ILDC) and the International Law Reports (ILR).

2 See Chapter 1.

3 UN General Assembly, ‘Strengthening and Enhancing the Effective Functioning of the Human Rights Treaty Body System’ (21 April 2014) UN Doc. A/RES/68/268, para. 38.

4 See N. Ando, ‘General Comments/Recommendations’, in R. Wolfrum (ed.), The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law (Oxford University Press, 2008), para. 2.

5 This chapter consistently uses the term ‘Views’ to describe the types of findings regarding individual communications or petitions, even if the findings can also be entitled as ‘Decisions’, etc.

6 These eight bodies are: HRC, CESCR, CERD, CEDAW, CAT, CRC, CRPD, and CED. The CMW also anticipates the petition mechanism.

7 Report of the Secretary-General, ‘Status of the Human Rights Treaty Body System’ (10 January 2020) UN Doc. A/74/643, para. 18.

8 UNHRC, ‘Report of the Human Rights Committee, 123rd Session (2–27 July 2018), 124th Session (8 October–2 November 2018), 125th Session (4–29 March 2019)’ (2019) UN Doc. A/74/40, para. 25.

9 See, on the CERD’s work, R. Wolfrum, ‘The Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination’ (1999) 3 Max Planck Yearbook of United Nations Law Online 489519, at 509.

10 CEDAW, ‘Concluding Observations on the Sixth Periodic Report of the Netherlands’ (24 November 2016) CEDAW/C/NLD/CO/6, para. 14.

11 Ahmadou Sadio Diallo (Republic of Guinea v. Democratic Republic of the Congo), Merits, Judgment of 30 November 2010, [2010] ICJ Reports 639, para. 66.

12 Footnote Ibid., para. 66.

13 Footnote Ibid., para. 66 (emphasis added).

14 E.g., Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, Advisory Opinion of 9 July 2004, [2004] ICJ Reports 136, paras 109–10. See L. Crema, ‘The Interpretive Work of Treaty Bodies: How They Look at Evolutionary Interpretation, and How Other Courts Look at Them’, in G. Abi-Saab et al. (eds), Evolutionary Interpretation and International Law (Hart Publishing, 2019) p. 7790, at p. 84.

15 Obligation to Prosecute or Extradite (Belgium v. Senegal), Judgment of 20 July 2012, [2012] ICJ Reports 422, para. 101. Cf. separate opinion of Judge Cançado Trindade at 551–2, paras 161–5.

16 CAT, ‘Report of the Committee against Torture, Fifty-eighth session (25 July–12 August 2016), Fifty-ninth session (7 November–7 December 2016), Sixtieth session (18 April–12 May 2017)’ (2017) UN Doc. A/72/44, para. 87.

17 See R. van Alebeek and A. Nollkaemper, ‘The Legal Status of Decisions by Human Rights Treaty Bodies in National Law’, in H. Keller and G. Ulfstein (eds), UN Human Rights Treaty Bodies: Law and Legitimacy (Cambridge University Press, 2012) pp. 356413, at pp. 360–82.

18 UNHRC, ‘Consideration of Reports Submitted by States Parties under the Covenant, Fifth Periodic Report, Norway’ (3 December 2004) CPR/C/NOR/2004/5, para. 157. See also para. 158 (establishment of the Criminal Cases Review Commission to assist petitioners).

19 UNHRC, ‘Concluding Observation of the Human Rights Committee, Norway’ (25 April 2006) CCPR/C/NOR/CO/5, para. 3(b) (establishment of the Commission to assist petitioners).

20 See, e.g., X v. Council of Ministers, Appeal judgment ILDC 2520 (ES 2015), ROJ: STS 507/2015, ECLI: ES:TS:2015:507 (Spain, Supreme Court, Administrative Chamber, 6 February 2015) paras 41–5 (OUP page numbers).

21 See Footnote n. 1 above.

22 See nn. 17–19 and accompanying text on the principle of res judicata and the need for specific pieces of legislation.

23 Kavanagh v. Governor of Mountjoy Prison [2002] 3 IR 97; 132 ILR 380 (Ireland, Supreme Court, 1 March 2002) 404.

24 UNHRC, Kavanagh v. Ireland (No.1), Views, Communication No. 819/1998, CCPR/C/71/D/819/1998, adopted 4 April 2001, paras 10.3 and 11.

25 Kavanagh v. Governor of Mountjoy Prison, 404 (referring to Article 34.1 of the Irish Constitution).

27 Wilson v. Ermita and ors, Petition for mandamus, GR No 189220, ILDC 3005 (PH 2016) (Philippines, Supreme Court, 7 December 2016).

28 Footnote Ibid., paras 3–6 (paragraph numbers added by Oxford University Press (OUP)).

29 UNHRC, Albert Wilson v. The Philippines, Views, Communication No. 868/1999, CCPR/C/79/D/868/1999 (11 November 2003).

30 Footnote Ibid., paras 7.3–8 (violations of Articles 7, 9(1)–(3), 10(1)–(2)).

31 Footnote Ibid., para. 9.

32 Wilson v. Ermita, para. 17 (OUP numbers).

33 Footnote Ibid., paras 32–3 (OUP numbers). The Court’s view on the domestic effect of the ICCPR seems inconsistent with the Court’s own jurisprudence: see E. K. P. Aguilan, ‘Analysis: ILDC 3005 (PH 2016)’ (2019), para. A3.

34 Wilson v. Ermita, para. 34 (OUP numbers).

35 UNHRC, ‘General Comment No. 33: The Obligations of States Parties under the Optional Protocol’ (Advance unedited version, 5 November 2008) CCPR/C/GC/33, para. 11.

36 Wilson v. Ermita, para. 35 (OUP numbers) (emphasis added).

37 Footnote Ibid. Any responses to such recommendations are a matter to be determined by the legislative and executive branches of the government, the Supreme Court added – see para. 36 (OUP numbers).

38 See nn. 17–19 and accompanying text.

39 See Chapter 1.

40 Kanetake, ‘UN Human Rights Treaty Monitoring Bodies before Domestic Courts’, 226–7.

41 ILA, Committee on International Human Rights Law and Practice, ‘Final Report on the Impact of Findings of the United Nations Human Rights Treaty Bodies’ (2004) para. 29, ft 28.

42 S. El Boudouhi and G. Dannenberg, ‘France: Implementation of International Human Rights Decisions in France’, in S. Kadelbach, T. Rensmann and E. Rieter (eds), Judging International Human Rights (Springer International Publishing, 2019) pp. 453–70, at p. 466.

43 Kanetake, ‘UN Human Rights Treaty Monitoring Bodies before Domestic Courts’, 228–30.

44 Ibid., 229–30.

45 See, e.g., ‘Report of the International Law Commission, Seventieth Session (30 April–1 June and 2 July–10 August 2018)’ (2018) UN GAOR, 73rd Sess., Supp. No. 10, UN Doc. A/73/10, 109, para. 7, fn 614; C. Tomuschat, ‘Human Rights Committee’, in R. Wolfrum (ed.), The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law (Oxford University Press, 2010), para. 14.

46 See van Alebeek and Nollkaemper, ‘The Legal Status of Decisions by Human Rights Treaty Bodies’, pp. 372–3, pp. 385–90.

47 Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, 23 May 1969, in force 27 January 1980, 1155 UNTS 311, Article 31(3)(b).

48 ILA, ‘Final Report on the Impact of Findings’ (2004), para. 21; G. Ulfstein, ‘Individual Complaints’, in H. Keller, G. Ulfstein and L. Grover (eds), UN Human Rights Treaty Bodies: Law and Legitimacy (Cambridge University Press, 2012) pp. 73115, at pp. 97–100.

49 ‘Text of the Draft Conclusions on Subsequent Agreements and Subsequent Practice in Relation to the Interpretation of Treaties’, see ‘Report of the International Law Commission, Seventieth Session’, 12–16.

50 ‘Report of the International Law Commission, Seventieth Session’ above, 106 (Conclusion 13).

51 Footnote Ibid., 106 (Conclusion 13.3).

52 Footnote Ibid., 106 (Conclusion 13.2).

53 Footnote Ibid., 113, para. 19 (commentary regarding Conclusion 13.3).

54 Kanetake, ‘UN Human Rights Treaty Monitoring Bodies before Domestic Courts’, 226.

56 ‘Kav LaOved’ – Worker’s Hotline and ors v. Ministry of Interior and ors, Original petition to the High Court of Justice, HCJ 11437/05, ILDC 2181 (IL 2011) (13 April 2011) (Israel, Supreme Court as High Court of Justice), paras H3–H4 (ILDC paragraph numbers). See CEDAW, ‘General Recommendation No. 21: Equality in Marriage and Family Relations’ (1994) UN Doc. A/49/38; CEDAW, ‘General Recommendation No. 26 on Women Migrant Workers’ (5 December 2008) CEDAW/C/2009/WP.1/R; CERD, ‘General Recommendation 30 on Discrimination against Non-citizens’ (2004) UN Doc. A/59/18, 93.

57 HCJ Infiltrators Case, Adam and Ors v. The Knesset and Ors, Original petition to the High Court of Justice, HCJ 7146/12, ILDC 2078 (IL 2013), 16 September 2013 (Israel, Supreme Court), paras H5–H6 (ILDC report by Nita Benoliel); Y. Shany, ‘Israel’, in F. M. Palombino (ed.), Duelling for Supremacy: International Law vs. National Fundamental Principles (Cambridge University Press, 2019) p. 167–83, at pp. 177–8.

58 Iliafi and Others v. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints Australia [2014] FCAFC 26 (19 March 2014) (Federal Court of Australia), paras 62–4; CERD, ‘General Recommendation 20: The Guarantee of Human Rights Free from Racial Discrimination’ (1996) UN Doc. A/51/18 (1996), annex VIII, 124.

59 Iliafi, paras 66–7, 85, 96–9, 103; HRC, ‘General Comment No. 22 (Art. 18)’ (27 September 1993) CCPR/C/21/Rev.1/Add.4; HRC, ‘General Comment No. 23: The Rights of Minorities (Article 27)’ (26 April 1994) CCPR/C/21/Rev.1/Add.5.

60 E.g., Iliafi, paras 100–1.

61 International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination, 21 December 1965, 660 UNTS 195, Art 5; International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, 16 December 1966, 999 UNTS 171, Articles 18, 27.

62 Racial Discrimination Act 1975 (Australia), Act No. 52 of 1975 (11 June 1975), section 9.

63 Iliafi, para. 62.

64 Diallo, para. 66.

65 Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment, 10 December 1984, 1465 UNTS 85, Art. 14(1). See Kanetake, ‘UN Human Rights Treaty Monitoring Bodies before Domestic Courts’, 212–13.

66 See, e.g., CAT, ‘General Comment No. 3 (2012): Implementation of Article 14 by States Parties’ (13 December 2012) CAT/C/GC/3, para. 22.

67 The CAT made it clear in its Concluding Observations addressed to Canada: CAT, ‘Concluding Observations of the Committee against Torture: Canada’ (25 June 2012) CAT/C/CAN/CO/6, para. 15; CAT, ‘Concluding Observations on the Seventh Periodic Report of Canada’ (21 December 2018) CAT/C/CAN/CO/7, para. 41.

68 Jones v. Saudi Arabia [2006] UKHL 26; (2007) 1 AC 270 (UK, House of Lords, 14 June 2006).

69 Footnote Ibid., para. 23 (Lord Bingham).

70 Footnote Ibid., para. 57 (Lord Hoffmann). See also Jones and Others v. The United Kingdom, App. Nos. 34356/06 and 40528/06, Judgment of 14 January 2014, para. 208 (disagreeing with the CAT’s interpretation).

71 Kazemi (Estate) v. Islamic Republic of Iran 2014 SCC 62, [2014] 3 S.C.R. 176 (Canada, Supreme Court, Judgment of 10 October 2014), para. 148.

72 Footnote Ibid., para. 148.

73 Suresh v. Canada, (2002) 208 DLR (4th) 1 (2002) 124 ILR 343 (Canada, Supreme Court, 11 January 2002), para. 73; Kanetake, ‘UN Human Rights Treaty Monitoring Bodies before Domestic Courts’, 211.

74 Kazemi (2014), para. 147.

75 Footnote Ibid., para. 148.

77 Footnote Ibid., para. 224 (Justice Abella in dissent, agreeing with the Canadian Bar Association’s remark).

78 Footnote Ibid., para. 226 (Justice Abella in dissent).

79 E.g., Y. Iwasawa, ‘Domestic Application of International Law’ (2016) 378 Recueil des Cours 236–7 (regarding Japanese courts’ practices); Kanetake, ‘UN Human Rights Treaty Monitoring Bodies Before Domestic Courts’, 220–1.

80 Minister for Immigration and Citizenship v. Anochie and Another [2012] FCA 1440, (2012) 209 FCR 497 (Australia, Federal Court, 18 December 2012). The subsequent decision did not refer to the Committee’s findings: Anochie v. Minister for Immigration and Citizenship [2013] AATA 391 (Australia, Administrative Appeals Tribunal, 12 June 2013).

81 UNHRC, ‘General Comment No. 15: The Position of Aliens under the Covenant’ (11 April 1986) HRI/GEN/1/Rev.9 (Vol. I); HRC, ‘General Comment No. 31: Nature of the General Legal Obligation Imposed on States Parties to the Covenant’ (29 March 2004) CCPR/C/21/Rev.1/Add.13.

82 Anochie, paras 40–50.

83 Footnote Ibid., para. 45.

84 Footnote Ibid., paras 45–6.

85 ICCPR, Article 40(4).

86 Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, 16 December 1966, 999 UNTS 302, Article 1. The Federal Court also noted the fact that the HRC’s Views are forwarded to the individual and the state party concerned, according to Article 5(4) of the Optional Protocol.

87 Anochie, para. 48. This is based on the Federal Court’s earlier case: Minister for Immigration and Multicultural and Indigenous Affairs v. Al Masri (2003) 126 FCR 54, para. 148.

88 Footnote Ibid., para. 49.

89 ICCPR, Article 28(2).

90 Anochie, para. 49.

91 Footnote Ibid. See Footnote n. 64 and accompanying text.

92 See Footnote n. 1 on the scope of the research on which the chapter is based.

93 Lewis v. Attorney General of Jamaica (2000) 134 ILR 615 (Jamaica, Judicial Committee of the Privy Council, 12 September 2000).

95 Appellante v. de Raad van Bestuur van de Sociale Verzekeringsbank, 21 July 2006, LJN: AY5560 (the Netherlands, Central Appeals Tribunal); cited in van Alebeek and Nollkaemper, ‘The Legal Status of Decisions by Human Rights Treaty Bodies’, p. 402, fn 199.

96 See nn. 17–19 and accompanying text on the principle of res judicata. In this vein, see, e.g., X v. Council of Ministers, paras 41, 43 (OUP numbers).

97 Decision No T-025 of 2004 (2004) (Constitutional Court, Colombia, 22 January 2004, English translation www.brookings.edu), para. 8.3.2 (‘como intérprete autorizado del Pacto sobre la materia’).

98 Test Trial Fund Clara Wichmann (Stichting Proefprocessenfonds Clara Wichmann) and Ors v. Netherlands, First instance decision (2005) HA ZA 03/3395, LJN: AU2088, ILDC 221 (NL 2005) (the Netherlands, District Court, 7 September 2005), para. 3.18.

99 Cal v. Attorney-General (2007) 71 WIR 110; 135 ILR 77 (Belize, Supreme Court, 18 October 2007), para. 125.

100 German Federal Constitutional Court (BVerfG), Order of the First Senate of 26 July 2016, 1 BvL 8/15 (English translation www.bverfg.de/e/ls20160726_1bvl000815en.html).

101 CRPD, ‘General Comment No. 1 (2014), Article 12: Equal Recognition Before the Law’ (19 May 2014) CRPD/C/GC/1, para. 26; CRPD, ‘Concluding Observations on the Initial Report of Germany’ (13 May 2015) CRPD/C/DEU/CO/1, paras 25–6; CRPD, ‘Guidelines on Article 14 of the Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities: The Right to Liberty and Security of Persons with Disabilities’ (September 2015), paras 11–12.

102 German Federal Constitutional Court, 1 BvL 8/15, para. 91.

103 Footnote Ibid., para. 90.

104 Footnote Ibid., para. 90.

105 See nn. 17–19 and accompanying text.

106 Optional Protocol to the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women, 6 October 1999, 2131 UNTS 83, Article 7(4).

107 Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, 10 December 2008, UN Doc. A/63/435, Article 9(2).

108 Optional Protocol to the Convention on the Rights of the Child on a communications procedure, 19 December 2011, UN Doc. A/RES/66/138, Article 11(1).

109 Optional Protocol to the ICCPR (Footnote n 86).

110 VCLT, Article 26.

111 See R. Kolb, Good Faith in International Law (Hart Publishing, 2017), pp. 166–9.

112 UNHRC, ‘General Comment No. 33: The Obligations of States Parties under the Optional Protocol’ (25 June 2009) CCPR/C/GC/33, para. 15. Cf. UNHRC, ‘Draft General Comment No 33 (Second Revised Version as of 18 August 2008)’ (25 August 2008) CCPR/C/GC/33/CRP.3, para. 16.

113 S. Joseph, ‘Committees: Human Rights Bodies’, in R. Wolfrum (ed.), The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law (Oxford University Press, 2010), para. 9.

114 See van Alebeek and Nollkaemper, ‘The Legal Status of Decisions by Human Rights Treaty Bodies’, p. 386.

115 UNHRC, Erlingur Sveinn Haraldsson and Örn Snævar Sveinsson v. Iceland, Communication No. 1306/2004, CCPR/C/91/D/1306/2004 (14 December 2007). The communication concerned discrimination in the business of commercial fishing quotas. See G. Gauksdottir and T. Ingadottir, ‘Compliance with the Views of the UN Human Rights Committee and the Judgments of the European Court of Human Rights in Iceland’, in A. Eide, J. T. Möller and I. Ziemele (eds), Making Peoples Heard: Essays on Human Rights in Honour of Gudmundur Alfredsson (Nijhoff, 2011) pp. 511–36, at pp. 526–9.

116 Letter from the government of Iceland concerning the Views adopted by the Human Rights Committee on 24 October 2007, cited in Gauksdottir and Ingadottir, ‘Compliance with the Views of the UN Human Rights Committee’, pp. 530–1.

117 Footnote Ibid., p. 531.

118 Footnote Ibid., p. 531.

119 Footnote Ibid. Iceland’s readiness to review its system has led the HRC to close the follow-up examination of the case: ‘Report of the Human Rights Committee, Volume I, 103rd Session (17 October–4 November 2011), 104th Session (12–30 March 2012)’, (2012) UN Doc. A/67/40 (Vol. I), at 114–15 (with a finding of a partly satisfactory implementation of the recommendation).

120 Tomuschat, ‘Human Rights Committee’, para. 14.

123 European Commission for Democracy through Law (Venice Commission), ‘Report on the Implementation of International Human Rights Treaties in Domestic Law and the Role of Courts’ adopted by the Venice Commission at its 100th plenary session (Rome, 10–11 October 2014), CDL-AD(2014)036 (8 December 2014), para. 78.

124 Christian Tomuschat, Human Rights: Between Idealism and Realism (Oxford University Press, 2014), p. 267.

126 Tangiora v. Wellington District Legal Services Committee (1999) [2000] 1 WLR 240; 124 ILR 570 (New Zealand, Judicial Committee of the Privy Council, 4 October 1999).

127 Footnote Ibid., 575.

129 ‘Report of the International Law Commission, Seventieth Session’ above, p. 113, para. 19 (commentary regarding Conclusion 13.3) (emphasis added).

130 Footnote Ibid. (emphasis added).

131 S. Kadelbach, ‘The Domestic Implementation of Judgments/Decisions of Courts and Other International Bodies That Involve International Human Rights Law: Final Report of the ILA International Human Rights Law Committee (Part 2)’, in S. Kadelbach, T. Rensmann and E. Rieter (eds), Judging International Human Rights (Springer International Publishing, 2019) pp. 51100, at pp. 70–1.

132 Footnote Ibid., p. 71.

133 See nn. 110–113 and accompanying text.

134 See Diallo, para. 66.

137 Judgment No. 1263/2018 of 17 July 2018, ROJ: STS 2747/2018, ECLI: ES:TS:2018:2747 (Tribunal Supremo [Supreme Court], Sala de lo Contencioso-Administrativo [Contentious-Administrative Chamber]) (Spain). For detailed analysis, see M. Kanetake, ‘María de los Ángeles González Carreño v. Ministry of Justice’ (2019) 113 American Journal of International Law 586–92.

138 For facts, see CEDAW, Angela González Carreño v. Spain, Communication No. 47/2012 (16 July 2014), paras 2.1–2.21.

139 Footnote Ibid., para. 2.5.

140 See, e.g., Footnote ibid., para. 2.12.

141 Footnote Ibid., para. 2.13.

142 Footnote Ibid., paras 2.18–2.20.

143 Footnote Ibid., para. 2.21.

144 Footnote Ibid., para. 10.

145 CEDAW, Angela González Carreño, para. 10 (Articles 2(a–f), 5(a) and 16(1)(d) of the CEDAW Convention).

146 Footnote Ibid., para. 11(a).

147 CEDAW, ‘Concluding Observations on the Combined Seventh and Eighth Periodic Reports of Spain’ (29 July 2015) CEDAW/C/ESP/CO/7–8, paras 10–11.

148 See further Kanetake, ‘María de los Ángeles González Carreño’, 588–9.

149 Judgment No. 1263/2018 of 17 July 2018, 14.

153 See Footnote ibid., 12.

155 Footnote Ibid., 12. It must be noted that international obligations are superior to ordinary domestic law – but not above the Constitution – based on Articles 95 and 96 of the Constitution, instead of Article 9(3) itself.

157 Judgment No. 1263/2018 of 17 July 2018., 13.

159 CEDAW, ‘General Recommendation No. 19: Violence against Women’ (1992).

160 Footnote Ibid., para. 9.

161 CEDAW, Angela González Carreño, para. 10.

162 UNHRC, ‘Draft General Comment No 33’, para. 14 (‘the [an] authentic interpreter’). See, further, Kanetake, ‘UN Human Rights Treaty Monitoring Bodies Before Domestic Courts’, 205–6.

163 UNHRC, ‘Draft General Comment No 33’, para. 11. On differences between the adoption of Views and judicial decision making, see, e.g., L. S. Borlini and L. Crema, ‘The Legal Status of Decisions by Human Rights Treaty Bodies: International Supervision, Authoritative Interpretations or Mission Éducatrice?’ (2019) 18 Global Community Yearbook of International Law and Jurisprudence, section III C.

164 Footnote Ibid., ‘Draft General Comment No 33’, para. 16.

165 CAT, ‘Thirty-Sixth Session, Summary Record of the 717th Meeting’ (1 June 2006) CAT/C/SR.717, para. 65 (Mr. Mariño Menéndez, emphasis added). The remarks were also endorsed by the chairperson: see para. 66 (Mr. Mavrommatis).

166 Kanetake, ‘UN Human Rights Treaty Monitoring Bodies before Domestic Courts’, 205–6.

167 UNHRC, ‘Draft General Comment No 33’, para. 14; UNHRC, ‘General Comment No. 33’, para. 13. Regarding the distinction between authentic and authoritative interpretation, see Iwasawa, ‘Domestic Application of International Law’, 239–41.

168 UNHRC, ‘Draft General Comment No 33’, para. 16.

169 PM v. Criminal Chamber of the Supreme Court, Constitutional Appeal (recurso de amparo), ILDC 1794 (ES 2002), STC 70/2002, para. 7 of the section on legal foundations (Spain, Constitutional Court, 3 April 2002) (‘Dictámenes no pueden constituir la interpretación auténtica del Pacto’). The Constitutional Court’s narrative was reproduced by the Spanish Supreme Court in its judgment of 8 June 2015: Judgment of the Supreme Court of 8 June 2015 (Spain, Supreme Court, Third Chamber, Contentious-Administrative), https://supremo.vlex.es/vid/575807258.

170 Judgment No. 1263/2018 of 17 July 2018, 12; CEDAW Convention, Article 24.

171 Optional Protocol CEDAW, Article 7(4).

172 See nn. 107–108.

173 See Chapter 1.

174 E.g., ‘Guidelines on the Independence and Impartiality of Members of the Human Rights Treaty Bodies (“the Addis Ababa Guidelines”)’ (2 August 2012) UN Doc. A/67/222 Annex I.

7 The Social Life of Entanglements International Investment and Human Rights Norms in and beyond ISDS

I am grateful to Nico Krisch for his constructive comments and criticism on earlier versions of this work. I also thank Tomáš Morochovič for his careful editing and helpful suggestions on this text. I gratefully acknowledge financial support by the Swiss National Science Foundation, which made this research possible.

1 W. Twining, ‘Diffusion and Globalization Discourse Symposium: Diffusion of Law in the 21st Century: Interaction and Influence’ (2006) 47 Harvard International Law Journal 507–16.

2 B. Simma, ‘Foreign Investment Arbitration: A Place for Human Rights?’ (2011) 60 International & Comparative Law Quarterly 573–96.

3 See Chapter 1.

4 P. Alston, ‘Resisting the Merger and Acquisition of Human Rights by Trade Law: A Reply to Petersman’ (2002) 13 European Journal of International Law 815–44; see also, in the context of the interface between trade and environment, Chapter 8.

5 OEIGWG Chairmanship, ‘Second Revised Draft, Legally Binding Instrument to Regulate, in International Human Rights Law, the Activities of Transnational Corporations and Other Business Enterprises’ (6 August 2020) www.ohchr.org/Documents/HRBodies/HRCouncil/WGTransCorp/Session6/OEIGWG_Chair-Rapporteur_second_revised_draft_LBI_on_TNCs_and_OBEs_with_respect_to_Human_Rights.pdf.

6 N. Krisch, F. Corradini and L. Lu Reimers, ‘Order at the Margins: The Legal Construction of Interface Conflicts Over Time’ (2020) 9 Global Constitutionalism 343–63.

7 See Chapter 1.

8 See Chapter 1. For the purpose of this chapter, I use ‘entanglement’ and ‘enmeshment’ interchangeably.

9 J. Pauwelyn, ‘Rational Design or Accidental Evolution? The Emergence of International Investment Law’, in Z. Douglas, J. Pauwelyn and J. E. Viñuales (eds), The Foundations of International Investment Law: Bringing Theory into Practice (Oxford University Press, 2014), pp. 1143; A. Roberts, ‘Clash of Paradigms: Actors and Analogies Shaping the Investment Treaty System’ (2013) 107 The American Journal of International Law 4594.

10 Z. Douglas, ‘The Hybrid Foundations of Investment Treaty Arbitration’ (2003) 74 British Yearbook of International Law 151289, referring to the ‘laws applicable to an investment dispute’ at 194.

11 J. Viñuales, ‘Sources of International Investment Law: Conceptual Foundations of Unruly Practices’, in S. Besson and J. d’Aspremont (eds), Oxford Handbook on the Sources of International Law (Oxford University Press, 2017).

13 On this notion, see Chapter 1, Section 1.2.

14 On ISDS as a mechanism and form of global governance, see S. Schill, ‘W(h)ither Fragmentation? On the Literature and Sociology of International Investment Law’ (2011) 22 European Journal of International Law 875908.

16 J. Bonnitcha, L. N. S. Poulsen and M. Waibel, The Political Economy of the Investment Treaty Regime (Oxford University Press, 2017), at 127.

17 On the competition of interests involved, see M. Sornarajah, The International Law on Foreign Investment (Cambridge University Press, 2017), ‘Introduction’.

18 T. Schultz, Transnational Legality: Stateless Law and International Arbitration (Oxford University Press, 2014), pp. 2630.

19 Roberts, ‘Clash of Paradigms’, 48.

20 J. Pauwelyn, ‘The Rule of Law without the Rule of Lawyers? Why Investment Arbitrators Are from Mars, Trade Adjudicators from Venus’ (2015) 109 American Journal of International Law 761805, at 782.

21 T. Schultz and C. Dupont, ‘Investment Arbitration: Promoting the Rule of Law or Over-empowering Investors? A Quantitative Empirical Study’ (2015) 25 European Journal of International Law 1147–68.

22 N. Tzouvala, ‘The Academic Debate about Mega-Regionals and International Lawyers: Legalism as Critique?’ (2018) 6 London Review of International Law 189209, at 200.

23 ‘[I]nvestors will not invoke the kind of international law that may weaken their legal position’, A. van Aaken, ‘Fragmentation of International Law: The Case of International Investment Protection’ (2008) 17 Finnish Yearbook of International Law 91130, at 93.

24 On the ‘strategic function of human rights references in investment arbitration’, see S. Steininger, ‘What’s Human Rights Got To Do With It? An Empirical Analysis of Human Rights References in Investment Arbitration’ (2018) 31 Leiden Journal of International Law 3358, at 45–9.

25 Pauwelyn, ‘The Rule of Law’, at 782.

26 T. Schultz, ‘Arbitral Decision-Making: Legal Realism and Law and Economics’ (2015) 6 Journal of International Dispute Settlement 231–51.

27 S. Puig, ‘Social Capital in the Arbitration Market’ (2014) 25 European Journal of International Law 387424, at 390.

28 M. Langford, D. Behn and R. H. Lie, ‘The Revolving Door in International Investment Arbitration’ (2017) 20 Journal of International Economic Law 301–32.

29 T. Schultz, ‘The Ethos of Arbitration’, in T. Schultz and F. Ortino (eds), Oxford Handbook of International Arbitration (Oxford University Press, 2020).

30 Schultz, ‘Arbitral Decision-Making’.

31 M. Langford and D. Behn, ‘Managing Backlash: The Evolving Investment Treaty Arbitrator?’ (2018) 29 European Journal of International Law 551–80.

32 See Chapter 1, Section 1.2. See also Steininger, ‘What’s Human Rights’, at 49–50.

33 See Chapter 1, Section 1.2. On the concepts of ‘shared understanding’ and ‘communities of practice’, see J. Brunnée and S. Toope, ‘Interactional International Law: An Introduction’ (2011) 3 International Theory 307–18.

34 A. Bianchi, ‘Epistemic Communities in International Arbitration’, in T. Schultz and F. Ortino (eds), The Oxford Handbook of International Arbitration (Oxford University Press, 2020).

35 Roberts, ‘Clash of Paradigms’; E. Gaillard, ‘Sociology of International Arbitration’ (2015) 1 Arbitration International 117.

36 Roberts, ‘Clash of Paradigms’.

38 Footnote Ibid., at 55.

39 Simma, ‘Foreign Investment Arbitration’. B. Simma and J. Kill, ‘Harmonizing Investment Protection and International Human Rights: First Steps Towards a Methodology’, in C. Binder, U. Kriebaum, A. Reinisch and S. Wittich (eds), International Investment Law for the 21st Century: Essays in Honour of Christoph Schreurer (Oxford University Press, 2009), pp. 679707.

40 P.-M. Dupuy, ‘Unification Rather than Fragmentation of International Law? The Case of International Investment Law and Human Rights Law’, in P.-M. Dupuy, E.-U. Petersmann and F. Francioni (eds), Human Rights in International Investment Law and Arbitration (Oxford University Press, 2009), pp. 4562.

41 M. Hirsch, ‘The Sociological Dimension of International Arbitration: The Investment Arbitration Culture’, in T. Schultz and F. Ortino (eds), Oxford Handbook of International Arbitration (Oxford University Press, 2020).

42 Pauwelyn, ‘The Rule of Law’.

43 Puig, ‘Social Capital’, 402.

44 M. Hirsch, Invitation to the Sociology of International Law (Oxford University Press, 2015), pp. 129–55.

45 Footnote Ibid., p. 131.

46 M. Gicquello, ‘The Reform of Investor–State Dispute Settlement: Bringing the Findings of Social Psychology into the Debate’ (2019) 10 Journal of International Dispute Settlement 561–81.

47 M. Waibel and Y. Wu, ‘Are Arbitrators Political? Evidence from International Investment Arbitration?’ (2017) www.yanhuiwu.com/documents/arbitrator.pdf.

48 Gaillard, ‘Sociology of International Arbitration’.

49 Hirsch, Invitation to the Sociology.

50 Langford and Behn, ‘Managing Backlash’.

51 See Chapter 1.

52 J. E. Alvarez, Boundaries of Investment Arbitration: The Use of Trade and European Human Rights Law in Investor-State Disputes (Juris, 2018). Already in 1990, the AAPL tribunal stated that an investment treaty ‘is not a self-contained closed legal system limited to provide for substantive material rules of direct applicability, but it has to be envisaged within a wider juridical context in which rules from other sources are integrated through implied incorporation methods, or by direct reference to certain supplementary rules, whether of international character or of domestic law nature’. Asian Agricultural Products Ltd v. Republic of Sri Lanka, ICSID Case No ARB/87//3, Award, 27 June 1990, 21.

53 Steininger, ‘What’s Human Rights’; Alvarez, Boundaries of Investment Arbitration.

54 CMS Gas Transmission Co v. Argentine Republic, ICSID Case No. ARB/01/8, Award, 12 May 2005.

55 Footnote Ibid., para. 109.

56 Footnote Ibid., para. 114.

57 ‘It is no longer the case of one prevailing over the other and excluding it altogether. Rather both sources have a role to play’. Footnote Ibid., para. 116–18.

58 CMS Gas Transmission., above, para. 117.

59 Footnote Ibid., para. 117.

60 Footnote Ibid., para. 120.

61 Footnote Ibid., para. 121.

62 Footnote Ibid., para. 122.

63 Glamis Gold, Ltd. v. United States of America, ICSID, Award, 8 June 2009.

64 Footnote Ibid., para. 353.

65 Glamis Gold, Ltd. v. United States of America, ICSID, Non-party supplemental submission of the Quechan Indian Nation, 16 October 2006.

66 Glamis Gold, Ltd. v. United States of America, ICSID, Non-party supplemental submission.

67 On the implications of this interpretative practice for the construction of relations with human rights norms, see Hirsch, Invitation to the Sociology, p. 148.

68 Glamis Gold, Ltd., Award, para. 3.

69 Footnote Ibid., para. 8.

70 Footnote Ibid., para. 8.

71 Suez, Sociedad General de Aguas de Barcelona S.A., and Vivendi Universal S.A. v. The Argentine Republic, ICSID Case No. ARB/03/19, Decision on Liability, 30 July 2010.

72 These were the Argentine–France BIT, the Argentine–Spain BIT and the Argentine–UK BIT.

73 Suez, Decision on Liability, para. 255.

74 Centro de Estudios Legales y Sociales (‘CELS’) et al., ‘Amicus Curiae Submission in ICSID Case No. ARB/03/19’ (2007).

75 On the background of the dispute see J. Calvert, ‘Civil Society and Investor–State Dispute Settlement: Assessing the Social Dimensions of Investment Disputes in Latin America’ (2018) 23 New Political Economy 4665.

76 Centro de Estudios Legales y Sociales (‘CELS’) et al., ‘Amicus Curiae’.

77 On this requirement as a type of overarching norm, see Chapter 1.

78 ‘[I]n order to judge whether a treaty provision has been violated, for example the provision on fair and equitable treatment’, the ‘Tribunal must take account of the context in which Argentina acted and that the human right to water informs that context’. See Suez, Decision on Liability, para. 252.

79 ‘[A]rgentina is subject to both international obligations, i.e. human rights and treaty obligation, and must respect both of them equally’. Suez, Decision on Liability, para. 262.

80 J. E. Viñuales, Foreign Investment and the Environment in International Law (Cambridge University Press, 2012), p. 155.

81 Hesham T. M. Al Warraq v. Republic of Indonesia, ICSID, Award, 15 December 2014. For a commentary, see L. Cotula, ‘Human Rights and Investor Obligations in Investor-State Arbitration: Hesham Talaat M. Al-Warraq v The Republic of Indonesia, UNCITRAL Arbitration, Final Award, 15 December 2014 (Bernardo M. Cremades, Michael Hwang, Fali S. Nariman)’ (2016) 17 The Journal of World Investment & Trade 148–57.

82 Agreement for the Promotion, Protection and Guarantee of Investment among Member States of The Organization of the Islamic Conference.

83 Al-Warraq, Award, para. 519.

84 The European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR), the African Commission on Human and People’s Rights and the Inter-American Court of Human Rights.

85 Al-Warraq, Award, paras 177–82.

86 Footnote Ibid., paras 519–22.

87 Footnote Ibid., para. 621.

88 On this type of interface norm, see Chapter 1. For a similar observation in the context of international trade law, see Chapter 8.

89 Urbaser S.A. and Consorcio de Aguas Bilbao Bizkaia, Bilbao Biskaia Ur Partzuergoa v. The Argentine Republic, ICSID Case No. ARB/07/26, Award, 8 December 2016.

90 Footnote Ibid., para. 1156.

91 Footnote Ibid., para. 694.

92 ‘[W]hile the acts alleged to violate the international human rights of Mr Biloune may be relevant in considering the investment dispute under arbitration, this Tribunal lacks jurisdiction to address, as an independent cause of action, a claim of violation of human rights’. Antoine Biloune and Marine Drive Complex Ltd. v. Ghana Investment Centre and the Government of Ghana, Awards of 27 October 1989 and 30 June 1990, Yearbook Commercial Arbitration XIX (1994) p.11 (CUL-207). Cited in Urbaser., Award, para. 1129.

93 Urbaser., Award, para. 548.

94 Footnote Ibid., para. 555.

95 Footnote Ibid., para. 1192.

96 In the Tulip case, the investor invoked art. 6 of the ECHR on the right to a fair trial. Turkey, the respondent state, argued that the invoked provision was irrelevant in the context of the dispute as the ECHR and the ICSID Convention belonged to two ‘different regimes’. In the view of the Annulment Committee, human rights were relevant and ‘shall be taken into account’ in light of Article 31(3)(c) of the ‘VCLT’. Tulip Real Estate and Development Netherlands B.V. v. Republic of Turkey, ICSID Case no. ARB/11/28, Decisions on Annulment, 30 December 2015, paras 86–92, where the ad hoc Committee refers to the ‘principle of systemic integration’, stating that resort to authorities stemming from the field of human rights is a ‘legitimate method of treaty interpretation’.

97 Urbaser, Award, para. 1200.

98 Footnote Ibid., para. 1201.

99 Bear Creek Mining Corporation v. Republic of Peru, ICSID Case No. ARB/14/2, Award, 30 November 2017.

100 Footnote Ibid., paras 267–9.

101 The two organizations were the Association of Human Rights and the Environment-Puno together with Mr. Carlos Lopez, and the Columbia Center on Sustainable Investment (CCSI). Eventually, only the former organization was allowed to participate as ‘other persons’ under the FTA whereas the latter’s application was rejected by the tribunal.

102 The CCSI placed strong emphasis on legal relationships and on the relevance of the legal context to the interpretation of the FTA. See CCSI, ‘Application to File a Written Submission as an “Other Person” Pursuant to Article 836 and Annex 836’.

103 Bear Creek Mining Corporation v. Republic of Peru, ICSID Case No. ARB/14/2, Partial Dissenting Opinion of Professor P. Sands, 30 November 2017, at 11.

104 Footnote Ibid., pp. 38–40.

105 I am indebted to Tomáš Morochovič for this observation.

106 On this type of overarching norm, see Chapter 1.

107 South American Silver Limited v. Plurinational State of Bolivia, PCA Case No. 2013–15, Award, 22 November 2018, para. 187.

108 Footnote Ibid., para.193.

109 Footnote Ibid., para. 261.

110 Footnote Ibid., para. 200.

111 Bolivia referred to the 1969 American Convention on Human Rights, the 1994 Inter-American Convention on the Prevention, Punishment and Eradication of Violence against Women, ILO Convention No.169, the 2007 United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples and the Political Constitution of the Plurinational State of Bolivia. Footnote Ibid., para. 199.

112 Footnote Ibid., para. 196.

113 Footnote Ibid., para. 190.

114 Footnote Ibid., para. 208.

115 Footnote Ibid., para. 212.

116 Footnote Ibid., para. 216.

118 Langford and Behn, ‘Managing Backlash’.

119 E. Benvenisti, ‘Democracy Captured: The Mega-Regional Agreements and the Future of Global Public Law’ (2016) 23 Constellations: An International Journal of Critical and Democratic Theory 5870.

120 Brunnée and Toope, ‘Interactional International Law’.

121 J. Alvarez, ‘“Beware: Boundary Crossings” – A Critical Appraisal of Public Law Approaches to International Investment Law’ (2016) 17 The Journal of World Investment & Trade 171228.

122 R. Michaels and J. Pauwelyn, ‘Conflict of Norms or Conflict of Laws: Different Techniques in the Fragmentation of Public International Law’ (2012) 22 Duke Journal of Comparative & International Law 349–76.

123 On reception norms, see Chapter 1; Michaels and Pauwelyn, ‘Conflict of Norms or Conflict of Laws’.

124 On the institutional context of ICSID, see Pauwelyn, ‘The Rule of Law’. On the ‘investment arbitration culture’, see Hirsch, ‘The Sociological Dimension’.

125 Bianchi, ‘Epistemic Communities’, 588.

126 On how different ways of thinking about law impact legal practice, see A. Bianchi, International Law Theories: An Inquiry into Different Ways of Thinking (Oxford University Press, 2016). On the implications of actors’ situatedness for the construction of entanglements, see Chapter 1.

127 Pauwelyn, ‘The Rule of Law’.

128 Schultz, ‘Arbitral Decision-Making’.

129 Gaillard, ‘Sociology of International Arbitration’.

130 On these rules, see Sornarajah, The International Law.

131 F. Balcerzak, ‘Jurisdiction of Tribunals in Investor–State Arbitration and the Issue of Human Rights’ (2014) 29 ICSID Review 216–30.

132 F. G. Santacroce, ‘The Applicability of Human Rights Law in International Investment Disputes’ (2019) 34 ICSID Review – Foreign Investment Law Journal 136–55.

133 Hirsch, Invitation to the Sociology, p. 146.

134 R. Howse, ‘Venus, Mars, and Brussels: Legitimacy and Dispute Settlement Culture in Investment Law and WTO Law: A Response to Joost Pauwelyn’ (2015) 109 AJIL Unbound 309–15.

135 For example, in the CMS dispute.

136 Howse, ‘Venus, Mars, and Brussels’.

137 J. Viñuales, ‘Foreign Investment and the Environment in International Law: Current Trends’, in K. Miles (ed.), Research Handbook on Environment and Investment Law (Edward Elgar, 2019), pp. 1237.

138 Langford and Behn, ‘Managing Backlash’, 554–8.

139 M. Langford, D. Behn and O. Fauchald, ‘Backlash and State Strategies in International Investment Law’, in T. Aalberts and T. Gammeltoft-Hansen (eds), The Changing Practices of International Law (Cambridge University Press, 2018), pp. 70102.

140 The 2012 US Model BIT mentions in a relatively open-ended way the interface between ‘investment and the environment’ (art. 12) and ‘investment and labor’ (art. 13); the New Zealand–Australia BIT, refers to the Treaty of Waitangi; the 2015 Norwegian Model BIT refers to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights; the 2016 BIT between Morocco and Nigeria imposes human rights obligations on investors too (art. 18). N. Zugliani, ‘Human Rights in International Investment Law: The 2016 Morocco–Nigeria Bilateral Investment Treaty’ (2019) 68 International and Comparative Law Quarterly 76170.

141 C. Titi, ‘International Investment Law and the European Union: Towards a New Generation of International Investment Agreements’ (2015) 26 European Journal of International Law 639–61.

142 Article 7(5) states: ‘[t]he Contracting Parties express their commitment to the international framework on Business and Human Rights, such as the United Nations Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights and the OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises, and commit to strengthen this framework’. For a commentary, see K. Duggal and L. van de Ven, ‘The 2019 Netherlands Model BIT: Riding the New Investment Treaty Waves’ (2019) 35 Arbitration International 343–74.

143 L. W. Mouyal, International Investment Law and the Right to Regulate: A Human Rights Perspective (Routledge, 2016).

144 Joint Interpretative Instrument on the Comprehensive Economic and Trade Agreement (CETA) between Canada and the European Union and Its Member States, 2017.

145 E. Meidinger, ‘TPP and Environmental Regulation’, in B. Kingsbury et al. (eds), Megaregulation Contested (Oxford University Press, 2019), pp. 175–95.

146 Benvenisti, ‘Democracy Captured’.

147 Similarly, references to international investment law in human rights instruments provide little guidance in this respect. Principle 9 of the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights expects state parties to investment agreements to ‘maintain adequate domestic policy space to meet their human rights obligations’. The Commentary to this article is not very helpful either in its explanation that: ‘States should ensure that they retain adequate policy and regulatory ability to protect human rights under the terms of such agreements, while providing the necessary investor protection.’ OHCHR, ‘Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights: Implementing the United Nations “Protect, Respect and Remedy” Framework’ (United Nations, 2011).

148 S. Schill and V. Djanic, ‘International Investment Law and Community Interests’, in E. Benvenisti and G. Nolte (eds), Community Interests Across International Law (Oxford University Press, 2018), pp. 122–48.

149 Mattias Kumm has argued that one general presupposition of these actors is to favour ‘stronger, rather than weaker investor protection’. See ‘An Empire of Capital? Transatlantic Investment Protection as the Institutionalization of Unjustified Privilege’, Verfassungsblog (27 May 2015), https://verfassungsblog.de/an-empire-of-capital-transatlantic-investment-protection-as-the-institutionalization-of-unjustified-privilege/.

150 Sawhoyamaxa Indigenous Community v. Paraguay, Judgment (Merits, Reparations and Costs), 29 March 2006.

151 Footnote Ibid., para. 115.

152 Footnote Ibid., para. 140.

153 See Chapter 1.

154 OHCHR, ‘Report of the Independent Expert on the Promotion of a Democratic and Equitable International Order, Alfred-Maurice de Zayas’ (2015) UN Doc. A/HRC/30/44.

155 OHCHR, ‘Report of the Independent Expert’, 20.

156 ‘[P]acta sunt servanda requires States to fulfil their human rights treaty obligations in good faith and prohibits them from entering into agreements that would delay, circumvent, undermine or make impossible the fulfilment of their human rights treaty obligations’. OHCHR, ‘Report of the Independent Expert’, para. 18.

157 Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (CESCR), ‘General Comment No. 24 (2017) on State Obligations under the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights in the Context of Business Activities’ (2017), UN Doc E/C.12/GC/24.

158 CESCR, ‘General Comment No. 24’.

162 ‘[A] human rights-based approach to trade and investment entails considering how States’ obligations under trade/investment law agreements might impact on their ability to fulfil their human rights obligations’, see further at: www.ohchr.org/EN/Issues/Globalization/Pages/GlobalizationIndex.aspx.

163 UNHRC, ‘Report of the Special Rapporteur on the Right to Food, Olivier De Schutter. Addendum, Guiding Principles on Human Rights Impact Assessments of Trade and Investment Agreements’ (2011) UN Doc. A/HRC/19/59/Add.5.

164 Columbia Center on Sustainable Development and OHCHR, ‘Impacts of the International Investment Regime on Access to Justice’ (Roundtable outcome document, September 2018).

165 P. Muchlinski, ‘Negotiating New Generation International Investment Agreements: New Sustainable Development Oriented Initiatives’, in S. Hindelang and M. Krajewski (eds), Shifting Paradigms in International Investment Law (Oxford University Press, 2016), pp. 4164.

166 OEIGWG Chairmanship ‘Second Revised Draft, Legally Binding Instrument’.

167 S. Randeria, ‘The State of Globalization: Legal Plurality, Overlapping Sovereignties and Ambiguous Alliances between Civil Society and the Cunning State in India’ (2007) 24 Theory, Culture & Society 133.

168 B. Rajagopal, ‘The Role of Law in Counter-Hegemonic Globalization and Global Legal Pluralism: Lessons from the Narmada Valley Struggle in India’ (2005) 18 Leiden Journal of International Law 345–87.

169 B. Rajagopal, ‘Counter-Hegemonic International Law: Rethinking Human Rights and Development as a Third World Strategy’ (2006) 27 Third World Quarterly 767–83.

170 There have been calls to give more attention to these ‘invisible’ actors. See N. Perrone, ‘The “Invisible” Local Communities: Foreign Investor Obligations, Inclusiveness, and the International Investment Regime’ (2019) 113 AJIL Unbound 1621.

171 J. Rone, ‘Contested International Agreements, Contested National Politics: How the Radical Left and the Radical Right Opposed TTIP in Four European Countries’ (2018) 6 London Review of International Law 233–53. See also M. Kumm, ‘An Empire of Capital?’; Legal Statement on Investment Protection and Investor–State Dispute Settlement Mechanisms in TTIP and CETA, 2016.

172 Robert Howse has concluded that ‘a multilateral court system is best suited to offering standing or intervention to a wide range of actors who have concerns of international justice that relate to foreign investment’. See R. Howse, ‘International Investment Law and Arbitration: A Conceptual Framework’ (2017) IILJ Working Paper 2017/1 MegaReg Series 69.

173 The Court ruled that EU law precludes: ‘a provision in an international agreement concluded between Member States […] under which an investor from one of those Member States may, in the event of a dispute concerning investments in the other Member State, bring proceedings against the latter Member State before an arbitral tribunal whose jurisdiction that Member State has undertaken to accept’. Judgment in Slovak Republic v. Achmea B.V. (Case C-284/16).

174 The Court found that the international investment system is compatible with EU law. See Opinion 1/17 of the Court (Full Court) (CETA Opinion), 30 April 2019.

175 On different states’ approaches to ISDS reform, see A. Roberts, ‘Incremental, Systemic, and Paradigmatic Reform of Investor–State Arbitration’ (2018) 112 American Journal of International Law 410–32.

176 OHCHR, ‘Letter to the UNCITRAL Working Group III on ISDS Reform, Urging Systemic Changes to the ISDS System’ (7 March 2019).

179 United Nations Commission on International Trade Law et al., ‘Possible Reform of Investor–State Dispute Settlement (ISDS) Submission from the Government of South Africa’ (2019) UN Doc A/CN.9/WG.III/WP.176.

8 International Trade Law Legal Entanglement on the WTO’s Own Terms

1 W. Steffen, W. Broadgate, L. Deutsch, O. Gaffney and C. Ludwig, ‘The Trajectory of the Anthropocene: The Great Acceleration’ (2015) 2 The Anthropocene Review 8198.

2 E. B. Weiss, ‘The Evolution of International Environmental Law’ (2011) 54 Japanese Yearbook of International Law 127, at 2.

4 United Nations Conference on Environment and Development, ‘Rio Declaration on Environment and Development’ (New York, 1992), Principle 12.

5 UNEP, ‘United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC)’ (1992).

6 A. Tancredi, ‘Trade and Inter-Legality’, in J. Klabbers and G. Palombella (eds), The Challenge of Inter-legality (Cambridge University Press, 2019), pp. 158–87, at p. 159.

7 T. Santarius, H. Dalkmann, M. Steigenberger and K. Vogelpohl, ‘Balancing Trade and Environment: An Ecological Reform of the WTO’, Wuppertal Papers (2004), p. 63.

8 Footnote Ibid., p. 10.

9 Footnote Ibid., p. 10.

10 WTO, ‘WTO Ministerial Declaration Adopted on 14 November 2001’ (20 November 2001) WT/MIN(01)/DEC/1, para. 31.

11 R. Howse, ‘The World Trade Organization 20 Years on: Global Governance by Judiciary’ (2016) 27 European Journal of International Law 977.

12 G. Marceau, ‘The Primacy of the WTO Dispute Settlement Mechanism’ (2015) 23 Questions of International Law 313, at 4.

13 Article 2(1) of the WTO DSU on Rules and Procedures Governing the Settlement of Disputes, Marrakesh Agreement Establishing the World Trade Organization, Annex 2, 1869 U.N.T.S. 401, 33 I.L.M. 1226 (1994).

14 G. Z. Marceau, ‘A Call for Coherence in International Law’ (1999) 33 Journal of World Trade 87152; J. P. Trachtman, ‘The Domain of WTO Dispute Resolution’ (1999) 40 Harvard International Law Journal 333–77; G. Z. Marceau, ‘Conflicts of Norms and Conflicts of Jurisdictions, the Relationship between the WTO Agreement and Meas and Other Treaties’ (2001) 35 Journal of World Trade 1081–131, at 1116.

15 J. Pauwelyn, Conflict of Norms in Public International Law: How WTO Law Relates to Other Rules of International Law (Cambridge University Press, 2003), p. 460. Pauwelyn argues that the applicable law before a WTO panel is limited only by four factors: the claims that can be brought to a WTO panel; the defences invoked by the defending party; the scope of the relevant rules ratione materiae, ratione personae and ratione temporis; and any conflict rules in the WTO treaty, general international law and other non-WTO treaties.

16 Footnote Ibid., p. 460.

17 Articles 1(1), 3(2), 7(1) and 11 of the DSU.

18 L. Bartels, ‘Applicable Law in WTO Dispute Settlement Proceedings’ (2001) 35 Journal of World Trade 499519, at 504 et seq. Article 7 of the DSU, for example, has been used to justify both closed and open positions with regard to the applicable law in WTO dispute settlement procedures – although the provision itself is rather ambiguous. Indeed, while Article 7 requires Panels to examine disputes ‘in light of’ relevant provisions in the covered agreements, and to address relevant provisions in any covered agreement cited by the parties to the dispute, it does not prevent Panels from addressing other sources of law in the course of deciding the dispute.

19 Korea – Measures Affecting Government Procurement (2000) WTO Doc. WT/DS163/R, para. 7.96.

20 Footnote Ibid., para. 7.101.

21 Tancredi, ‘Trade and Inter-Legality’.

22 O. Perez, Ecological Sensitivity and Global Legal Pluralism: Rethinking the Trade and Environment Conflict (Hart Publishing, 2004), p. 51.

23 Trachtman, ‘The Domain of WTO Dispute Resolution’.

24 M. Jeffery, ‘Environmental Imperatives in a Globalized World: The Ecological Impact of Liberalizing Trade’ (2007) 7 Macquarie Law Journal 2552, at 29.

25 J. P. Trachtman, ‘WTO Trade and Environment Jurisprudence: Avoiding Environmental Catastrophe’ (2017) 58 Harvard International Law Journal 273310.

26 United States – Restrictions on Imports of Tuna – Report of the GATT Panel, (3 September 1991) DS21/R (unadopted) (‘Tuna Dolphin I’).

27 United States – Restrictions on Imports of Tuna – Report of the GATT Panel, (16 June 1994), DS29/R (unadopted) (‘Tuna Dolphin II’).

28 Tuna Dolphin I Panel report, para. 3.49.

29 Footnote Ibid., para. 3.44.

30 Tuna Dolphin I Panel report, para. 5.28.

31 Howse, ‘The World Trade Organization 20 Years On’, 36. The rulings in Tuna Dolphin I and II are widely regarded as having no textual basis in the GATT but to have been informed instead by ‘some intuitive notion that allowing trade measures to address global environmental externalities was somehow countenancing the slippery slope towards unconstrained green protectionism’.

32 Tuna Dolphin I Panel report, para. 5.28.

33 Ibid., para. 5.12 – 5.15. Also see Howse, ‘The World Trade Organization 20 Years On’, 37.

34 Tuna Dolphin I Panel report, para. 5.43–5.44.

35 The new WTO dispute settlement mechanism instituted a reverse consensus rule, making the adoption of post 1994 panel reports virtually automatic.

36 World Trade Organization, CITES and the WTO: Enhancing Cooperation for Sustainable Development (WTO, 2015) p. 3.

37 T. E. Skilton, ‘GATT and the Environment in Conflict: The Tuna-Dolphin Dispute and the Quest for an International Conservation Strategy’ (1993) 26 Cornell International Law Journal 455–94. The US House of Representatives promptly passed a resolution mandating the US representative to actively seek GATT reform in order to make international trade rules more amenable to national and international environmental laws and to secure a working party on trade and environment within the GATT as soon as possible.

39 G. M. Duran, ‘NTBs and the WTO Agreement on Technical Barriers to Trade: The Case of PPM-Based Measures Following US – Tuna II and EC – Seal Products’ (2015) 6 European Yearbook of International Economic Law 87136, at 109.

40 Howse, ‘The World Trade Organization 20 Years On’, 37.

41 United States – Import prohibition of certain shrimp and shrimp products – Panel Report (15 May 1998) WT/DS58/R (‘Shrimp-Turtle’), para. 3.94 Additionally, the USA also invoked the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) Articles 61(2), (4) and 119(1)(b), and Agenda 21 in support of this claim.

42 Shrimp-Turtle Panel report, para. 7.57. Specifically, the USA referred to paragraph 17.46(c) of Agenda 21, which promotes ‘the development and use of selective fishing gear and practices that minimize […] the bycatch of non-target species’ as a ‘multilateral environmental standard to minimize bycatch’.

43 Shrimp-Turtle Panel report, para. 3.95.

44 Footnote Ibid., paras 3.5 and 3.98 (India); para. 3.221 (Malaysia).

45 Footnote Ibid., para. 3.146.

46 Pakistan, for example, referred to the concept of sustainable development as an environmental norm to be taken into consideration while Pakistan exercises its sovereignty to decide on the conservation measures to be taken within its jurisdiction (Footnote ibid., para. 3.54). Pakistan also noted that the preamble required members to enhance their means for protecting and preserving the environment in a manner consistent with the member’s respective needs and concerns at different levels of economic development (para. 3.85).

47 Footnote Ibid., para. 3.95; para. 3.41; and para. 3.157.

48 Footnote Ibid., para. 3.274.

49 Footnote Ibid., para. 7.45.

50 Shrimp-Turtle Panel report, para. 7.52.

51 Article 5 of the CBD promotes the principle of international cooperation when it comes to matters of mutual interest for the conservation and sustainable use of biological diversity.

52 Shrimp-Turtle Panel report, para. 7.53.

53 Footnote Ibid., para. 7.58 et seq.

54 Footnote Ibid., para. 7.58.

55 Footnote Ibid., para. 7.59.

56 United States – Import Prohibition of Certain Shrimp and Shrimp Products – Appellate Body Report (12 October 1998) WT/DS58/AB/R, paras 121–2.

57 Duran, ‘NTBs and the WTO Agreement on Technical Barriers to Trade’, 110. See also Shrimp-Turtle Appellate Body Report, para. 121: ‘It is not necessary to assume that requiring from exporting countries compliance with, or adoption of, certain policies (although covered in principle by one or another of the exceptions) prescribed by the importing country, renders a measure a priori incapable of justification under Article XX. Such an interpretation renders most, if not all, of the specific exceptions of Article XX inutile, a result abhorrent to the principles of interpretation we are bound to apply.’

58 D. A. Wirth, ‘Some Reflections on Turtles, Tuna, Dolphin, and Shrimp’ (1998) 9 Yearbook of International Environmental Law 40–7, at 42.

59 Shrimp-Turtle Appellate Body Report, paras 128–31.

60 Shrimp-Turtle Appellate Body Report, paras 129–30.

61 Howse, ‘The World Trade Organization 20 Years On’, 42.

62 M. Bowman, P. Davies and C. Redgwell, Lyster’s International Wildlife Law (Cambridge University Press, 2010), p. 664.

63 P. Sands, J. Peel and R. MacKenzie, Principles of International Environmental Law (Cambridge University Press, 2012), p. 970.

64 R. Howse, ‘The Appellate Body Rulings in the Shrimp/Turtle Case: A New Legal Baseline for the Trade and Environment Debate’ (2002) 27 Columbia Journal of Environmental Law 491521, at 506.

65 Shrimp-Turtle Appellate Body Report, para. 168.

66 Sands, Peel and MacKenzie, Principles of International Environmental Law, p. 970.

67 Howse, ‘The World Trade Organization 20 Years On’, 41.

69 European Communities – Measures Concerning Meat and Meat Products (Hormones) (Canada) – Panel report (19 August 1997) WT/DS48/R/CAN; European Communities – Measures Concerning Meat and Meat Products (Homones) (US) – Panel report, (18 August 1997) WT/DS26/R/USA (‘EC Hormones’).

70 Tancredi, ‘Trade and Inter-Legality’, p. 171.

71 Annex A.3 SPS.

72 Article 3.2 SPS.

73 EC Hormones Panel Report (US), para. 3.2 With regard to the SPS Agreement, the USA claimed inter alia that the measures were not based on an assessment of risk and therefore inconsistent with Article 5.1, that they lacked sufficient scientific evidence in contravention of Article 2.2, that they were not justified as a provisional measure under Article 5.7 and that they were not based on scientific principles thereby breaching Articles 2.2 and 5.6, that they were applied beyond the extent necessary to protect human life or health, and that they were more trade restrictive than required to achieve the appropriate level of sanitary protection.

74 Footnote Ibid., para. 4.203.

75 EC Hormones Panel Report (US), para. 4.239.

76 P. Delimatsis, The Law, Economics and Politics of International Standardisation (Cambridge University Press, 2015), p. 90. The EU and other countries have repeatedly expressed this claim that the Codex should respect consensus-based decision-making as one of the fundamental principles of the organisation; see a recent example: Codex Alimentarius Commission (35th Session) Rome, 2–7 July 2012, EU Statement on ractopamine ‘for standards to be universally applicable, they also need to be universally accepted’.

77 EC Hormones Panel Report (US), para. 8.69.

78 Footnote Ibid., paras 8.75–8.77.

79 Footnote Ibid., para. 8.157.

80 European Communities – Measures Concerning Meat and Meat Products (Hormones) – Report of the Appellate Body (16 January 1998), WT/DS26/AB/R and WT/DS48/AB/R, para. 16.

81 EC Hormones Appellate Body Report, paras 124–5.

82 M. L. Maier and C. Gerstetter, ‘Risk Regulation, Trade and International Law: Debating the Precautionary Principle in and around the WTO’, TranState working papers (2005), 12.

83 Howse, ‘The World Trade Organization 20 Years On’, 58.

84 EC Hormones Appellate Body Report, para. 172.

85 Maier and Gerstetter, ‘Risk Regulation, Trade and International Law’, 16.

86 Santarius et al., ‘Balancing Trade and Environment’. Notably, environmental organizations/groups – such as the Forum Umwelt und Entwicklung – and states had long been pushing for the precautionary principle to be incorporated into WTO law in more unrestricted form.

87 UNEP, Preamble, ‘Cartagena Protocol on Biosafety to the Convention on Biological Diversity (the Biosafety Protocol)’ (2000).

88 This is in the context of the ‘advanced informed agreement’ procedure which applies to the first transboundary movement of a living modified organism that is intended to be released into the environment of an importing party.

89 G. E. Isaac and W. A. Kerr, ‘The Biosafety Protocol and the WTO: Concert or Conflict?’, in R. Falkner (ed.), The International Politics of Genetically Modified Food: Diplomacy, Trade and Law (Palgrave Macmillan, 2006), pp. 195212, at p. 196.

90 P. E. Hagen and J. B. Weiner, ‘The Cartagena Protocol on Biosafety: New Rules for International Trade in Living Modified Organisms’ (2000) 12 The Georgetown International Environmental Law Review 697717, at 702.

91 Maier and Gerstetter, ‘Risk Regulation, Trade and International Law’.

92 FAO, Principle 11, ‘Working Principles for Risk Analysis for Application in the Framework of the Codex Alimentarius’ (Risk Analysis Principles Applied by the Codex Committee on Food Additives and Contaminants) (2003); FAO, Principle 12, ‘Working Principles for Risk Analysis for Food Safety for Application by Governments (CAC/GL 62–2007)’ (2007).

93 Delimatsis, The Law, Economics and Politics of International Standardisation, p. 97.

94 Footnote Ibid., p. 97 et seq.

95 Footnote Ibid., p. 98.

96 Howse, ‘The World Trade Organization 20 Years On’, 58.

97 J. Zhao, ‘The Role of International Organizations in Preventing Conflicts between the SPS Agreement and the Cartagena Protocol on Biosafety’ (2020) 29(2) Review of European, Comparative & International Environmental Law 111.

98 Isaac and Kerr, ‘The Biosafety Protocol and the WTO’, p. 196.

99 European Communities – Measures Affecting the Approval and Marketing of Biotech Products – Panel report (29 September 2006) WT/DS291/292/293/R (‘EC-Biotech’), para. 7.55.

100 EC-Biotech Panel report, para. 4.600.

101 CIEL, ‘EC-Biotech: Overview and Analysis of the Panel’s Interim Report’ (Mach 2006), p. 46.

102 Footnote Ibid., p. 49.

103 European Communities – Measures Affecting the Approval and Marketing of Biotech Products – Mutually Agreed Solution between Canada and the European Communities (15 July 2009) WT/DS292/40, G/L/628/Add.1.

104 A. Arcuri, ‘Is CETA Keeping up with the Promise? Interpreting Certain Provisions Relating to Biotechnology’ (2017) 41 Questions of International Law, Zoom-Out 3558.

105 Footnote Ibid., 47 et seq.

106 P. C. Mavroidis, ‘Last Mile for Tuna (to a Safe Harbour): What Is the TBT Agreement All About?’ (2019) 30 European Journal of International Law 279301, at 280.

107 TBT 2.4 requires national technical regulations, standards and conformity assessments to be based on relevant international standards except where such standards would be an ineffective or inappropriate means for the fulfilment of the legitimate objectives pursued.

108 M. A. Crowley and R. Howse, ‘Tuna–Dolphin II: A Legal and Economic Analysis of the Appellate Body Report’ (2014) 13 World Trade Review 321–55, at 321.

109 Both the Panel and the Appellate Body in Tuna Dolphin II found that the US measure constituted a mandatory technical regulation because it prescribed by law minimum requirements for accessing the ‘dolphin-safe’ labelling scheme in the USA.

110 P. V. den Bossche and D. Prévost, Essentials of WTO Law (Cambridge University Press, 2016), p. 190.

111 United States – Measures Concerning the Importation, Marketing and Sale of Tuna and Tuna Products – Panel report (15 September 2011) WT/DS381/R (‘US-Tuna II’), para. 7.691.

112 United States – Measures Concerning the Importation, Marketing and Sale of Tuna and Tuna Products – Report by Appellate Body (16 May 2012) WT/DS381/AB/R, para. 399.

113 US-Tuna II Appellate Body Report, para. 390.

114 Footnote Ibid., para. 377.

115 TBT Committee, ‘Decision on Principles for the Development of International Standards, Guides and Recommendations’ (13 November 2000) G/TBT/9, Annex 4.

116 European Communities – Trade Description of Sardines – Panel report (29 May 2002) WT/DS231/R, para. 7.91.

117 US-Tuna II Appellate Body Report, para. 372.

118 European Communities – Trade Description of Sardines – Report by Appellate Body (26 September 2002) WT/DS231/AB/R, para. 224.

119 Howse, ‘The World Trade Organization 20 Years On’, 56.

121 Crowley and Howse, ‘Tuna–Dolphin II’, 342.

122 United States – Measures Concerning the Importation, Marketing and Sale of Tuna and Tuna Products – Recourse to Article 21.5 of the DSU by the United States; United States – Measures Concerning the Importation, Marketing and Sale of Tuna and Tuna Products – Recourse to Article 21.5 of the DSU by Mexico, Report by Appellate Body (14 December 2018) WT/DS381/AB/RW/USA; WT/DS381/AB/RW2, paras 7.1–7.14.

123 On irritative norm conflicts, see N. Krisch, F. Corradini and L. L. Reimers, ‘Order at the Margins: The Legal Construction of Interface Conflicts over Time’ (2020) 9 Global Constitutionalism 343–63.

124 J. Pauwelyn, ‘Recent Books on Trade and Environment: GATT Phantoms Still Haunt the WTO’ (2004) 15 European Journal of International Law 575–92.

125 Perez, Ecological Sensitivity and Global Legal Pluralism, p. 65.

126 See T. Broude and Y. Shany (eds), Multi-sourced Equivalent Norms in International Law (Bloomsbury Publishing, 2011).

Save book to Kindle

To save this book to your Kindle, first ensure [email protected] is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part of your Kindle email address below. Find out more about saving to your Kindle.

Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations. ‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi. ‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.

Find out more about the Kindle Personal Document Service.

  • International Law and Its Interfaces
  • Edited by Nico Krisch, Graduate Institute of International and Development Studies, Geneva
  • Book: Entangled Legalities Beyond the State
  • Online publication: 29 October 2021
  • Chapter DOI: https://doi.org/10.1017/9781108914642.008
Available formats
×

Save book to Dropbox

To save content items to your account, please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies. If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account. Find out more about saving content to Dropbox.

  • International Law and Its Interfaces
  • Edited by Nico Krisch, Graduate Institute of International and Development Studies, Geneva
  • Book: Entangled Legalities Beyond the State
  • Online publication: 29 October 2021
  • Chapter DOI: https://doi.org/10.1017/9781108914642.008
Available formats
×

Save book to Google Drive

To save content items to your account, please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies. If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account. Find out more about saving content to Google Drive.

  • International Law and Its Interfaces
  • Edited by Nico Krisch, Graduate Institute of International and Development Studies, Geneva
  • Book: Entangled Legalities Beyond the State
  • Online publication: 29 October 2021
  • Chapter DOI: https://doi.org/10.1017/9781108914642.008
Available formats
×