In an influential article published in 2000, David Gill and Christopher Chippindale devised a scale to assess the quality of the provenance information provided for the antiquities displayed in seven recent high-profile exhibitions or collections. This article critically reviews Chippindale and Gill’s provenance scale, arguing that the values it encodes legitimize some of the more intellectually harmful practices of dealers and curators. The scale also fails to differentiate between more intellectually responsible methods of hypothesizing provenance and those that merely generate houses of cards. An alternative model for assessing how antiquities are discussed in museum scholarship, focusing on epistemological precision and reflexivity, is offered.

This article examines the social and artistic antiquation of moral rights law. Moral rights law developed, and was implemented, under the heavy influence of the French preference to put the rights of the author at the center of intellectual property protection (with Victor Hugo leading this charge). However, as artistic practice evolves in a continually rapid fashion, it is becoming increasingly clear that moral rights are unable to properly accord with modern art forms. An examination of the social construction of authorship, the emergence of unique contemporary art forms, and the role of technology as a catalyst to intellectual property law, reveals that the Western world’s legal moral rights scheme cannot survive its current form. Moral rights’ endurance hinges on its ability to reconcile with a social and artistic climate alien to its origins. Artistic expression does not exist in a vacuum and is inextricably linked to, and reflective of, the social climate it is born out of. As society evolves and shifts, so too does its art and so must the law.

In recent decades, cultural protocols have emerged as a non-judicial alternative to the inadequate legal protection of Indigenous cultural heritage. They are meant to protect Indigenous peoples from the misappropriation of their heritage by outsiders and enhance Indigenous peoples’ control over their own domain. This article examines the functioning of Indigenous cultural protocols within Australia’s contemporary art world. As we will demonstrate, cultural protocols have clear practical utility. They can raise awareness, instigate changes in behaviour, and operate as a conduit for correcting the unauthorized use of Indigenous cultural materials. Yet, a disjunction exists between codified ideals and a messy reality. Our analysis of two protocol transgressions shows that protocols do not automatically protect Indigenous individuals equally. Furthermore, although discussions about compliance are infused with rhetoric about the authority of “the Indigenous community,” Indigenous people with cultural connections to contested heritage objects do not always have a clear voice in decisions made about their use.

In March 2015, it was reported that His Royal Highness, the Duke of Cambridge would “like to see all the ivory owned by Buckingham Palace destroyed.” In May 2015, the Conservative Party’s manifesto stated that if elected the party would “press for a total ban on ivory sales,” and policy decisions made as part of President Obama’s National Strategy for Combating Wildlife Trafficking saw “all commercial imports of African elephant ivory, including antiques” being prohibited.1 In a changing international environment, the United Kingdom’s antique trade faces a threat to the legitimate sale of pre-1947 worked ivory without the extent of any illegal trade being clear. With only 15 convictions since 1992 for offences relating to the trade in ivory in the English courts, this article examines the two most recent cases, which came to court in 2014.