In his famous Rede lecture of 1901, Maitland posed the question why the medieval law of England survived the period when (as he said) old creeds were crumbling everywhere and Roman law was pushing German law out of Germany. Much controversy has reigned since Maitland's time not only about his conclusions and his evidence, but also about the precise gist of his question—since it is not wholly clear what assumptions he was making about the nature of the so-called “Reception” of Roman law in Europe or about the extent to which the medieval common law really did survive in England. It is not the purpose of this paper to provide yet another interpretation of Maitland, but rather to re-examine from a different viewpoint the subject which he opened.

If an irregularity has been committed in the course of a company's affairs, or some wrong has been done to the company, can the individual shareholder bring a complaint before the court? The Rule in Foss v. Harbottle purports to give a negative answer to this question, subject to certain “exceptions.” The answer need occasion no surprise when it is remembered that the judges have for long been reluctant to interfere in the internal affairs of companies and similar associations; they have usually abdicated their jurisdiction in favour of the obvious alternative authority—the majority of the members. “It is not the business of the court to manage the affairs of the company. That is for the shareholders and the directors.” Whether this approach is a wholly adequate basis for judicial policy in the area of modern company law is open to doubt; the “majority” in the modern public company is usually under the effective control of a small body of managers. But the approach of the courts remains the same; the interests of the majority are theoretically paramount in the last resort. The rights of the minority must, in consequence, be restricted; and, in particular, the minority cannot complain of wrong done to the corporation as a whole or of internal improprietiess. In such terms of deceptive simplicity is the Rule in Foss v. Harbottle often presented; but the Rule is notorious among students of company law for the difficulties which lie underneath this simple surface. In order to investigate those difficulties, it is necessary, first, to examine the two different parts of the Rule and their point of contact; secondly, to mention twe preliminary matters concerning directors which must be kept in mind in the course of the discussion; and thirdly, to set out, and examine under four headings, the principles which are commonly said to constitute the “exceptions” to the Rule.

The doctrine of legitimate expectations is a developing area of administrative law, and many issues remain outstanding. Promises, practices, and policies generate legitimate expectations, but what is special about them? Why do they and only they generate legitimate expectations? The lack of an obvious answer has led some commentators to claim that the doctrine is ultimately incoherent and should be disaggregated. In this paper, we challenge this claim by arguing, first, that promises, practices, and policies each comprise or make applicable a certain type of rule, and second, that having a legitimate expectation is a matter of such a rule binding a public body to act in some way. This rule-based account gives the doctrine of legitimate expectations both coherence and distinctiveness.

Although the rules of international law relating to the acquisition of title to territory have long been substantially clearer than most rules of international law, this clarity has to some extent been obscured by the efforts of writers to make them clearer still. The clarity of the rules is due to the circumstance that this branch of international law—unlike some branches—is one on which international tribunals have frequently been called upon to pronounce. It has, in fact, been elucidated to an unusual degree by a relatively small number of recent and authoritative judgments. The obscurity arises from the fact that the terms and classifications traditionally employed by the writers have not to any great extent been followed by the courts in modern times. No comprehensive attempt to overhaul the traditional doctrine on the subject in the light of the recent decisions seems so far to have been made.

John Austin, having spent the winter term of 1827/28 in the idyllic and peaceful Rhenanian university town of Bonn, far away from the bustle of London and the irritating failures he had suffered at the chancery bar, was unrivalled in his admiration for the modern version of Roman law as it had been interpreted, refined and further developed by the German scholars of his time. It was, he exclaimed, “greatly and palpably superior, considered as a whole, to the law of England. Turning from the study of the English to the study of the Roman law, you escape from the empire of chaos and darkness, to a world that seems by comparison, the region of order and light”. How he longed to be as acknowledged and as influential as one of the great expositors of that law. “I was born out of time and place”, he is reported to have lamented, “I ought to have been a schoolman of the twelfth century—or a German professor”. His desire was rather understandable, given that the nineteenth century English law professors regarded themselves as “a feeble folk.

Previous work on the wrongful trading provisions of the Insolvency Act 1986 (s. 214) has been content with description, or with statutory construction. This paper employs the tools of agency theory and the creditors' bargain heuristic to analyse the need for these provisions, their structure, role, and effect. It examines why those interested in the company's undertaking would demand and accept a s. 214-type duty. The analysis reveals that the duty would not be equally relevant for all types of companies, and that the influence of the market for managerial labour ensures most s. 214 actions are likely to be brought against directors of closely-held companies, and against shadow directors. The analysis, by pointing out that security plays a role similar to s. 214 itself, also justifies a recent Court of Appeal decision which precludes secured creditors from any recoveries under that section. Finally, the incentives created by the provisions for the managers of both healthy and distressed companies are examined. It is suggested that these incentives are generally socially efficient.

Every so often the Appeal Committee of the House of Lords produces a decision that sets back the rational development of the criminal law for several years or decades.

Other courts do this too. But when the lords are at fault it is particularly disappointing: because they should be the élite of the judiciary; because they have the time to consider their decisions properly; because counsel who argue cases before them (having thrashed them out in two lower courts) should be unusually well-prepared; because the lords have the authority to overrule ill-considered decisions of the lower courts; and because their own pronouncements are (if things go wrong) especially hard to overturn. What makes these aberrational decisions particularly disconcerting is that the lords commonly show no appreciation of, and make no attempt to answer, the powerful arguments in the existing literature against the position they adopt.

This paper argues that the pari passu principle of insolvency law does not fulfil any of the functions often attributed to it. It does not constitute an accurate description of how the assets of insolvent companies are in fact distributed. It has no role to play in ensuring an orderly winding up of such companies. Nor does it underlie, explain, or justify distinctive features of the formal insolvency regime, notably, its collectivity. The case-law said to support the pari passu principle serves actually to undermine its importance. And the principle has nothing to do with fairness in liquidation. The substantive argument in the paper concludes by examining the actual role of the principle. The arguments made here have important implications for almost every debate about insolvency law, from the status of secured and preferential creditors to the appropriate role of corporate “rescue” procedures.

Intellectual Property is not a term with a standard meaning. Traditionally it was used to describe the copyright protection of authors and to distinguish this from industrial property, i.e., Patents for inventions, industrial design rights, plant variety rights, trade marks and the like. Recently it has become an umbrella for copyright, rights related to it and the various forms of industrial property. The new generic grouping has been needed for a world where demand for these rights has risen to an altogether new pitch. In part this is the consequence of extraordinary advances in technologies which make recorded information easily and precisely reproducible; and partly it supports the quest of advanced economies to conserve superior knowledge as a weapon in international trade.

If a thief steals money from you is it still yours? What if the thief passes it to a friend as a gift? Does it make any difference if the thief spends the money in a shop?

The answer to these questions depends on the “currency” of money, a legal attribute not shared by other kinds of property. A person's title to property is generally derived from the previous owner. When the property is transferred, the title that once vested in him simply passes to the recipient with the result that the recipient cannot acquire a better title than the person from whom he got the property.' To take an example, when a thief steals a car he has bare possession of it and the victim remains the owner. A person buying the car from the thief can only get possession of it. This general rule governing the transfer of title to property is summed up in the maxim nemo dat quod non habet.

When, if ever, may a court award damages to a plaintiff whose case sounds only in equity, not in law? In Hooper v. Rogers an award of damages in respect of a nuisance which had not yet resulted in any relevant damage was upheld by the Court of Appeal. In Wrotham Park Estate Co. Ltd. v. Parkside Homes Ltd. Brightman J. awarded substantial damages for breach of a restrictive covenant to the successors in title of the covenantee against the successors in title of the covenantor. In Wroth v. Tyler damages for the non-performance of a contract for the sale of a house were assessed by reference to the value of the house at the date of the hearing, not the date of breach. In none of these cases could the decisions have been justified on common law principles alone and all are in fact founded upon the Chancery Amendment Act 1858, commonly known as Lord Cairns' Act. Yet in Redland Bricks Ltd. v. Morris, while the Court of Appeal considered that an elaborate discussion of that Act was necessary and, indeed, differed in opinion as to the result of its application to the circumstances of the case, the House of Lords, through Lord Upjohn, dismissed the matter briefly and categorically with the observation that Lord Cairns' Act had nothing whatever to do with the principles of law applicable to the case. The time seems ripe for an examination of the meaning and present status of the Act.

An important rule of criminal evidence is that evidence of a defendant’s previous misconduct (evidence of bad character) is prima facie inadmissible. The usual justification for this rule is that, in most cases, such evidence is either irrelevant or likely to have an unduly prejudicial effect on the fact-finder. This article questions this justification. After reviewing the psychological research on character, it examines statistical data on recidivism. The statistics suggest that those with previous convictions are much more likely to offend than are those without a criminal record, which implies that evidence of bad character will usually be sufficiently probative to justify its admission as proof of guilt. The remainder of the article examines various criticisms which can be levelled at this argument, in particular, that the recidivism data are misleading and that the way in which fact-finders reason renders evidence of bad character uninformative.

In The Concept of Law, H.L.A. Hart suggested that four formal features of morality distinguish it from law: importance, immunity from deliberate change, the nature of moral offences and the form of moral pressure. On closer examination, none of these supposed features clearly distinguishes morality from law, at least in the broad sense of ‘morality’ that Hart adopted. However, a fifth feature of morality mentioned by Hart – namely the role that morality plays in practical reasoning as a source of ultimate standards for assessing human conduct – does illuminate the relationship between law as conceptualised by Hart and morality variously understood. Because morality has this feature, law is always subject to moral assessment, and moral reasons trump legal reasons. It does not follow, however, that law is irrelevant to moral reasoning.

In R. (Miller) v Secretary of State for Exiting the European Union, the Supreme Court of the UK (1) held that the UK Government had no prerogative power to initiate the formal process whereby the UK will withdraw from the EU and (2) declined to recognise any requirement that the devolved legislatures’ consent be obtained in respect of legislation authorising the Government to commence the withdrawal process. This article critically examines Miller, arguing that the majority's analysis veers between unwarranted muscularity in relation to the prerogative issue and unnecessary conservatism as regards the devolution issue. The article goes on to argue that while the majority judgment's restrictive approach to the prerogative may be viewed as a progressive victory for constitutional principle, such an evaluation can be sustained only if a set of relatively traditional constitutional premises are adopted to begin with. The article also contends that the general approach adopted by the majority is problematic, given its willingness to invoke arguments of constitutional principle without adequately engaging with questions about what the pertinent principles are, and argues that such an intellectually lackadaisical mode of constitutional adjudication is to be deprecated.

The importance of the principle of equality to the legal order of the European Union has been underlined by four important but contradictory cases: P v. S; Grant v. South West Trains; Kalanke and Marschall. These cases demonstrate various attempts by the Court to come to terms with what is meant by equality and to decide what protection should be provided by Community law. These, and earlier cases, offer various perspectives on the principle of equality. First, equality can be seen as a rallying cry, a political slogan but little else. Second, equality is a societal goal, a general aspirational principle of citizenship which may serve to inform specific legislative provisions, in particular non-discrimination, but otherwise has no legal force. Third, equality is a general principle of law which is designed to limit the activities of the Community legislature. Fourth, and perhaps most radically, equality is a free-standing, fundamental right enforceable against the Member States, like the equal protection of laws found in the Fourteenth Amendment of the US Constitution, and even against "private" employers. While it is possible to see elements of the first three perspectives in the Court's jurisprudence, the Court has not embraced the fourth. The article examines these developments and considers how the principles of equality and non-discrimination might be developed in the future.

The British constitution is famously unentrenched: constitutional laws are not intrinsically more difficult to override than ordinary laws. However, in the largely overlooked 2012 case of H v Lord Advocate, the Supreme Court said that the Scotland Act 1998 cannot be impliedly repealed due to its “fundamental constitutional” status. Unless judicial thinking changes, courts in the future may treat constitutional statutes, like the Scotland Act, as capable only of express repeal, making such statutes “quasi-entrenched”. In this article, we argue that, as a judicial innovation, the quasi-entrenchment of constitutional statutes lacks a sound legal basis. Parliament can make its intention to repeal a constitutional statute clear without making it express, and judges cannot, on their own initiative, ignore Parliament's clear decision to repeal even a constitutional statute.

Since the creation of a new domestic action for violation of “Convention rights” under the Human Rights Act 1998 (“HRA”),

In October 2010, the UK Parliament brought into effect law that replaced the partial defence to murder of provocation with a new partial defence of “loss of control”, applicable to England, Wales, and Northern Ireland. Although it retained some key features of its controversial predecessor, the new partial defence was in part designed better to address the gendered contexts within which a large number of homicides are committed. In examining the impact of the reforms, we will focus on long-held concerns about the treatment of sexual infidelity as a trigger for loss of control in murder cases. The article undertakes an analysis of English case law to evaluate the way in which sexual infidelity-related evidence has influenced perceptions of a homicide defendant's culpability, for the purposes of sentencing, both before and after the implementation of reform. The analysis reveals that, in sentencing offenders post reform, the higher courts have failed to follow the spirit of the reforms respecting the substantive law by effecting a corresponding change in sentencing practice.

[A]cts of parliament that are impossible to be performed are of no validity: and if there arise out of them collaterally any absurd consequences, manifestly contradictory to common reason, they are, with regard to those collateral consequences, void. … [W]here some collateral matter arises out of the general words, and happens to be unreasonable; there the judges are in decency to conclude that this consequence was not foreseen by the parliament, and therefore they are at liberty to expound the statute by equity, and only quoad hoc disregard it.