The Faust legend is familiar to us as the story of a man who agrees to sell his soul to the devil in exchange for a moment of absolute spiritual fulfilment. Since its first recorded telling some five hundred years ago, the legend has survived both as an expression of our need for transcendence - for “something more” - and as a cautionary tale about the manner in which we try to achieve it. This paper addresses the Faust legend from a legal perspective by taking its central motif - Faust's pact with the devil - and literally reducing it to writing, that is, by presenting it in the form of a legally binding agreement of purchase and sale. The intent is to explore whether and how doing so can help illuminate key issues at the core of the Faust legend while allowing us to consider the commercial element implicit in the way in which we sometimes conduct our spiritual affairs. To lend perspective, the various provisions of the agreement have been footnoted to reference relevant passages from Goethe’s and Marlowe’s telling of the Faust legend.

From earliest times it has been recognized that there are situations in which it is inappropriate to hold someone criminally liable despite his apparent violation of the law. Such situations are said to excuse the accused from his wrongdoing. In the Nichomachean Ethics, for example, Aristotle claims that “any sensible man” would throw another’s goods overboard in a storm if such an action was necessary to save both himself and his crew. And in Leviathan, Hobbes remarks that “If a man by the terrour of present death, be compelled to doe a fact against the Law, he is totally Excused; because no Law can oblige a man to abandon his own preservation”.

Many political and moral theorists believe conceptual arguments about the nature of liberty, authority or power cannot be resolved independently of background normative theories. When this view is combined with the assumption that normative disputes are in some sense irresolvable—because, for example, reason fails us here—we have a partial account of the significance of controversy in moral and political argument. Controversy is significant because it is a manifestation of a deeper truth about reason and value. By contrast many would deny that controversy over such matters tells us anything important—it tells us merely what we already know, that disputants are stupid, self interested, in the thrall of an ideology, or informationally deprived.

In Law’s Empire, Ronald Dworkin introduces an important distinction between what he calls the ‘grounds’ and the ‘force’ of law. The former primarily interest Dworkin in LE and concern the “circumstances in which particular propositions of law should be taken to be sound or true.” (110) Propositions of law, we are told, are “all the various statements and claims people make about what the law allows or prohibits or entitles them to have.” (4) That Canadians owing income tax to the federal government must file their returns before April 30 or face a late penalty is presumably an example of a proposition of law. That the United States constitution prohibits slavery is another. These (true) propositions of law simply report the law’s (present) requirements, requirements which normally should be respected but which might justifiably be disobeyed or disregarded in exceptional cases. A true proposition of law, then, does not necessarily entail an answer to the question: What should I do, or decide (if called upon to render a judicial decision)? It also does not necessarily entail an answer to the question: Should the coercive power of the state be exercised against this person?

From the Autobiography of John Stuart Mill

Anthony Kronman’s 1980 article “Contract Law and Distributive Justice” has become something of a classic in the philosophy of private law. Kronman argued that any theory of contract which relied upon voluntariness was necessarily concerned with distributive justice, since voluntariness was itself a distributive notion. The argument targeted libertarian accounts of contract. Given the distributive nature of voluntariness, the claim went, libertarians could not give an adequate account of contract without violating their own injunction against appeal to the “fair division of wealth among the members of society”(472). It is easy to see why Kronman’s article attracted so much attention. The idea that voluntariness is not distributive is central not just to libertarianism but to liberalism generally. Kronman’s critique, though targeting a not terribly common species of liberalism, threatens the genus itself.

The purpose of this paper is to attempt to lay out a framework, both analytical and historical, in terms of which deeply conflicting and surprisingly complicated claims about equality and egalitarianism may be discussed. My aim is to help to make more intelligible what is at issue in contemporary disputes, and hence what kinds of arguments and evidence bear on and might illuminate these competing claims. I then exploit this conceptual framework to sketch a way of organizing some of the voluminous literature in the on-going debate about equality, that is, to bring into focus the dimension(s) in which the issues are being joined, and from which historical tradition an argument emerges, in hopes of clarifying these debates.

Essentialist legal theorists, represented by Raz, have depicted legal theory as a project of seeking necessary truths about law. They have, however, left the notion of necessity in their conception of legal theory largely unexplained. This paper explores four different notions of necessity in the philosophical literature and investigates two issues: first, what kind of necessity best fits the notion of necessity implicit in the essentialist conception of legal theory, and secondly, whether that notion of necessity is a coherent one that withstands philosophical challenges. I argue that the Putnamian notion of quasi-necessity best fits essentialist legal theorists’ self-understanding, but the notion of quasi-necessity does not withstand Ebbs’s two challenges. Meanwhile, although Plunkett’s theory of metalinguistic negotiation can be used to preserve a coherent notion of necessity that circumvents Ebbs’s two challenges, due to its broadly anti-essentialist underpinnings such a notion is unlikely to be congenial to essentialist legal theorists.

This paper considers the connections between the Statehood/recognition debate in international law and social ontology. I aim to show that certain theories of social ontology, which I call Groupjective Internalism, can be used to defend Constitutive Theories of Statehood. Among philosophers whom I consider committed to Groupjective Internalism are major figures in the field: Searle, Gilbert and Tuomela. This is an interesting result as Constitutive Theories are generally looked upon with suspicion in international law.

Justice Ivan Rand was perhaps the greatest exponent of the rule of law in the history of the Supreme Court of Canada. He was a great judge. He scorned as impractical the admonition that judges should “apply the law, not make it”. His judgements frequently broke new ground, but it should be understood that in “making the law” great judges like Ivan Rand respond to fundamental considerations of order and fairness and not to personal whim. It is sometimes necessary for judges to return to first principles to provide legislators with a framework within which to operate in unforeseen situations. The word “activism” is usually used by critics to imply that a judge is pushing the envelope beyond the proper boundaries of the law, but properly understood the term may equally indicate a judicial tightening of the boundaries to deny the bench a power seemingly conferred by the Constitution or legislation. Restraint, as much as expansion, is governed by the judges’ recognition of the limits of their institutional competence and their appreciation of their role in the constitutional scheme.

In the absence of statutory authority the courts have not yet addressed issues related to globalization and human rights with the sort of boldness and creativity we associate with great judges like Ivan Rand. Order and fairness have acquired a global dimension. Globalization offers a different kind of challenge, but is no less demanding of the rule of law. In the case of creating some form or forum of relief for Third World victims of globalization, we seem to have used restraint as an excuse for inertia. Judges need to be practical, but their greatness will rest on their capacity to see not only what the law is but what it should become. There is a time for boldness and a time for restraint and judges should be judged on their ability to tell the difference.

Modern contract law accords considerable significance to the basic assumptions on which a contract is made. It thus takes to heart a failure of a belief whose truthfulness is taken for granted by both parties. Where the failure results from the parties’ mistake at the time of formation, “the contract is voidable by the adversely affected party,” if that mistake “has a material effect on the agreed exchange of performances” and unless that party “bears the risk of the mistake.”1 Where, in turn, the failure of such a basic assumption results from the parties’ erroneous beliefs about future states of the world, a party’s duty to render performance may be discharged if they are not responsible for the supervening impracticability or frustration and “unless the language or the circumstances indicate the contrary.”2

H.L.A. Hart says that The Concept of Law is focused on municipal or domestic law because that is the “central case”1 for the usage of the word ‘law.’ At the beginning of the book he states that “at various points in this book the reader will find discussions of the borderline cases where legal theorists have felt doubts about the application of the expression ‘law’ or ‘legal system,’ but the suggested resolution of these doubts, which he will also find here, is only a secondary concern of the book.”2 Yet among those borderline cases there is one that is rather intriguing, since Hart closely discusses a particular instance of them: it is international law, to which he devotes an entire chapter—the final one—of The Concept of Law. My goal in this article is therefore to make clear why the ‘resolution’ of the borderline case of international law is not entirely ‘secondary’ to Hart’s overall project in The Concept of Law and, in so doing, to show that Chapter X is not as unhappy as many think it is.

This article posits an interpretation of Thomas More’s Utopia that focuses on the ways in which the nature of justice within a putatively ideal state is illuminated by references to international relations and the law of nations. Like Plato’s Republic, Utopia uses differences of scale to provide a lens through which to examine the operation in one context of a unitary concept that is more visible elsewhere. Justice is constructed as a single concept; thus, in the same way that Plato uses the justice of the kallipolis to provide insight into the justice of an individual, More uses the justice of the international community to provide a macroscopic perspective on justice as it exists within a sovereign state. Through discussions of trade, diplomacy, war and empire, Utopian understandings of international law and justice are revealed. The ideal organisation of the state is then characterised as one in which the resulting notions of justice, defined as the correct operation of laws that accord with natural law, are institutionalised.

When state regulations prevent owners from certain uses of their property, is this action of the state a taking of property which requires compensation? One way of answering this problem, within a framework viewing property as a bundle of rights, is to inquire into whether the incident of use is an essential element of the bundle making up the property. Given the difficulties with figuring out what is essential and what is not, I propose an alternative solution, which does not give up the bundle-of-rights framework, but which, while assuming all incidents to be equally essential, it concentrates, instead, upon the legal entitlements conveying those incidents. I begin by arguing that while the incident of possession may be expressed by a right to exclude, the incident of use is expressed by a Hohfeldian liberty, and then I consider the consequences of this argument for the question of regulatory takings. I argue that while the liberty to use does not render the incident of use meaningless (at least, insofar as regulation of property use is concerned), there is nonetheless a significant distinction between transgressing a right and transgressing a liberty, and this implies that what it takes for an infringement of the right to exclude to be translated into a taking of the (whole) property is less than what it takes for the infringement of the liberty to use to be translated into a taking of property. As I show in the paper, we can achieve this result either by means of an argument from ‘constitutional residue’ or by means of an argument from the specification of constitutional rights.

Restitution for civil wrongs, also known as restitutionary damages, is a legal response through which the defendant’s wrongful gain is awarded to the claimant. James Edelman has recently advocated two different restitutionary responses for wrongs. One response, termed ‘restitutionary damages’, would aim to compel the wrongdoer to give back to the victim a wrongful gain, whereas the other response, ‘disgorgement damages’, would oblige the wrongdoer to give up a wrongful gain for the benefit of the claimant.

In the first case, the claimant would obtain what should have never left his assets. In the second case, the claimant would be the beneficiary of a judicial decision according to which a wrongful gain should not be kept by the wrongdoer. In this essay, I seek to demonstrate that this taxonomy cannot be accepted. I argue that Edelman’s ‘disgorgement damages’ are the only true example of restitution for wrongs, whereas his ’restitutionary damages’ are simply compensatory damages which are quantified in a particular fashion. Edelman’s ‘restitutionary damages’ might appear to deprive the defendant of his gain, and thus to achieve a restitutionary goal. Yet they nullify the victim’s loss and therefore have a compensatory nature. They are ‘pseudo-restitutionary damages’. In opposition to the dual theory, I submit a model of restitutionary damages based upon a single response which is coherent with the tenets of corrective justice. Given that it deals mainly with Edelman’s ‘restitutionary damages’, this article is not so much about restitution for wrongs but rather about compensation, which is what Edelman’s ‘restitutionary damages’ really concerns. The theory which I propose, based upon a single restitutionary response for wrongs, solves the taxonomic incoherence of Edelman’s dual theory. It also reflects the law as we find it, being supportable by reference to the available judicial authorities.

In my article “Legal Positivism and Natural Law Reconsidered” I suggested that we might be able to effect an interesting reconciliation of legal positivism (LP) and natural law theory (NL) by distinguishing two possible LP-NL debates. In particular, I suggested that we should distinguish, within legal philosophy, between theories of legal validity – that is, accounts of the existence conditions for valid law and theories (as I now would put it) of legal interpretation – and theories of adjudication – that is, accounts of how judges should decide cases. We can use this distinction to formulate two possible LPNL debates, one involving legal validity (LP1-NL1) and one involving adjudication (LP2-NL2). NL1 asserts and LP1 denies that the existence conditions for valid law and the theory of legal interpretation ensure that legal standards satisfy true or sound political morality to some significant extent. NL2 asserts and LP2 denies that the content of the correct or justifiable judicial decision must satisfy true or sound political morality to some significant extent. I sketched my own view of the relevant details of the theories of legal validity and adjudication and argued that these claims seem to vindicate LP1 and NL2 and so to allow a kind of reconciliation of LP and NL.

Carl Schmitt levels two kinds of criticism against liberal parliamentarism. First, Schmitt seeks to refute the liberal conception of politics (which assumes the possibility of rational will formation) on the basis of his own existential view of the political (which employs the distinction between friend and foe). Second, Schmitt attempts to show why and how the evolution of our political system, specifically the development of mass democracy, has made parliament an obsolete institution. This approach is both more dangerous and plausible, because it does not presuppose an acceptance of Schmitt's own controversial conception of politics, and relies on observations about the parliamentary system that are shared and deplored equally by many liberals. In The Crisis of Parliamentary Democracy, Schmitt does not confront directly what he considers to be fundamental principles of the parliamentary system—rational and public discussion—but rather shows that since these principles are unrealizable given the changes which the system has undergone, parliamentary institutions remain an empty shell, devoid of any justification and credibility.

The principle of national self-determination asserts the collective right of the nation for self-government. This principle is now a corner-stone of modem political thought. The idea of “home rule” or the ideal of a self-governed political community is a very old one which originated in classical Greece. Yet the modern idea of the free self-governed community differs in some important aspects from the old one.

National sovereignty, or the community’s collective right of “home rule”, means today the right of the political community to its own State. The State, at least the modern liberal democratic Nation-State, is conceived as an instrument by which sovereignty is constituted and national interests are promoted. In this way antiquity poses an interesting problem, since the State is a product of the modern era and was hardly known in the ancient world. The absence of State was not accidental to the ancient community; it was accompanied by an adequate system of ideas concerning the nature of the political community.

Discussion in the paper focuses on instituting a requirement that juries in criminal cases make public the reasons for their verdicts. The nature of such a requirement is elaborated, as is the way in which defects in the reasons provided might serve as a basis for appealing convictions. Various arguments for adopting such a requirement are considered, as are objections to doing so. In support of the requirement, I contend that it would enable defendants in criminal cases to ensure that their procedural rights have been respected. Such a requirement can also be construed as a condition of the legitimacy of exercises of political power and as an implication of the right of each person to be treated with equal concern and respect. The main objections to such a requirement concern its possible interference with jury independence and the complications and inefficiencies appeals of reasoned verdicts would produce.