This article examines the treatment of pure economic loss claims in England and Canada. The two jurisdictions have much in common. Starting from the same case sources, the common law of each system has struggled to deal with claims for negligently-incurred pure economic loss. Yet, the systems diverged in the 1990s when the Canadian Supreme Court refused to follow the lead of Murphy v Brentwood DC and reiterated its adherence to the Anns two-stage test. It is submitted that, in view of recent developments which suggest the gradual convergence of the two systems, English law should carefully examine the categorisation approach adopted by the Canadian courts. The current English position is far from clear, and the Canadian model is capable of bringing transparency and greater clarity to this difficult area of law.

Before Odysseus navigates the rocks on which live Scylla and Charybdis he is lulled by the Sirens, promising advance disclosure of earthly adventures. Forewarned by Circe, he enjoins his crew first to contain him; later (on pain of death) to release him from the mast to which he is bound. Held to his originally expressed wishes, they refuse, and bind him more tightly. In this way, Odysseus creates what may have been one of the first advance directives. Its enforcement illustrates one of the concerns which have latterly been expressed about making binding health care choices, possibly many years before they might take effect

‘People do not always mean what they say; they do not always say what they want; and they do not always want what they say they want. That much is, if not exactly clear, at least uncontroversial. What is controversial is, recognizing this, how to proceed.’

The late Professor Birks made an immense contribution to the study and development of the common law in devising his taxonomy, derived from the Roman classification of Justinian's Institutes. The utility of the taxonomy has always been the subject of controversy and its value has been increasingly questioned since his untimely death. Some of the criticisms are undoubtedly valid but it is seriously arguable that the pendulum has swung too far in the other direction. This paper seeks to highlight the common abuses of the taxonomy and demonstrate that, even taking account of its limitations, the taxonomy continues to be a useful device for our study and development of the common law.

In this article we argue that the House of Lords recently erred severely by failing to apply the Human Rights Act 1998 retrospectively, and that the appropriate remedy is to deploy the 1966 ‘Practice Statement’. We describe how the House has made a number of basic mistakes in interpreting the literal meaning of the Act. These errors are partly explained by the court's reliance upon a general presumption that law should not be applied retrospectively. We argue that human rights legislation is a necessary exception to this rule. We maintain this for philosophical reasons, but also contend that s 3(1) of the Human Rights Act reverses the presumption against retrospectivity and requires a new presumption that human rights should be given effect whenever it is possible to do so. This is a vital issue because s 3(1) is one of the most important provisions in the UK constitution.

The ‘rights’, if any, which belong to trade union members who refuse to participate in industrial action have been the subject of debate and controversy recently. A number of factors account for this. The first is the legal action maintained by members of the National Union of Mineworkers who refused to participate in the recent industrial action in the coalfields. Secondly, recent debates over the wisdom of introducing a ‘positive’ right to strike in place of the existing system of ‘immunities’ have, as Lord Wedderburn has remarked, ‘opened up… the prospect of a prohibition on unions disciplining members who refuse to strike, on the basis of the fallacy that a positive ‘‘right to strike’’ implies the negative ‘‘right not to strike’’’.

Much has often been made of Maine's striking opening sentence to his Ancient Law, in which he states that the most celebrated system of jurisprudence in the world, the Roman law system, ‘begins, as it ends, with a code.’ It is a remark which serves well those who argue that law has evolved as a predominantly written culture. Yet, as Maine points out, the publication of the Twelve Tables (these traditionally being regarded as the foundation of Roman law) ‘is not the earliest point at which we can take up the history of law.’

‘Legal reasoning’ and its character have been under discussion for some time: the character, that is, of the reasoning which judges, advocates, solicitors, and others engaged in matters of legal practice and decision must pursue if their conclusions are to claim validity. Do they – or should they – reason on lines dictated by the laws of formal logic, i.e. deductively in the strict sense of that term? Or must we say that judges, and lawyers in general, cannot reach or justify conclusions on deductive lines, and that in fact – and quite legitimately – they use, in establishing and justifying conclusions, a mode of reasoning which is not deductive but has a quite different determinate character of its own? If so, what is that determinate character? Does it provide criteria whereby we may appriase legal argumentation in particular instances as valid or invalid or, at least, as rational or failing in rationality?

This article is concerned with the portrayal of law in colonial conflict in the work of Senegalese author Sembene Ousmane, focussing in particular on the novel Les Bouts de Bois de Dieu. There Ousmane dramutises an actual strike of railway workers in 1947 in order to mount a prophetic critique of post-independence Senegal. In convening a tribunal to try strike-breakers, the workers demonstrate the constitutive, law-creating power which, Ousmane implies, still resides in newly independent peoples. This alternative legality is achieved in spite of the twin pressures of orthodox universalism, on the one hand, and passive traditionalism, on the other. As such Les Bouts de Bois de Dieu prefigures a radical, emancipatory legal pluralism in the colonial and post-colonial context.

The general theme of this lecture was prompted by Ruth Bader Ginsburg, the second woman in the United States Supreme Court. To celebrate my appointment she sent me a fascinating book, Supreme Court Decisions and the Rights of Women. This set me thinking about what a similar book on House of Lords Decisions and the Rights of Women might have to say. My first thought was ‘not a lot, surely’. The two courts are very different. The Supreme Court is a constitutional court under a constitution which guarantees the equal protection of the laws. The appellate committee of the House of Lords is not a constitutional court, although the Human Rights Act 1998 has made it look a little more like one. The judicial committee of the Privy Council, however, has in practice the same composition as the House of Lords.

This paper examines the role to be played by the devolved administrations in the negotiation, conclusion and implementation of trade agreements concluded by the UK post-Brexit. By examining, from a comparative perspective, examples of collaborative frameworks between sub-national entities and central governments established in federal jurisdictions, it proposes a significant reform of existing inter-governmental cooperation mechanisms to ensure that the devolved administrations are given a meaningful voice in the shaping of future trade agreements.

Much of the legal attention surrounding human embryonic stem (ES) cell research within the UK has, to date, focused on cloning techniques. Whilst this is both understandable and appropriate given litigation on this topic, there has been less focus on other areas. This paper identifies and analyses areas of incoherence and deficiency within the regulatory architecture governing human ES cell derivation and research within the UK. This is not merely a theoretical exercise, as there are indications that many of the policy objectives currently being pursued in this area have, at best, a shaky jurisdictional basis. It is all too easy to recall that lobby groups have challenged the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Act 1990, the legislative foundation for embryo research and most infertility treatment, on the basis of jurisdictional uncertainty and statutory interpretation. Whilst many pro-life campaigners are opposed to ES cell research on ethical grounds, the arguments utilised thus far in relation to litigation have been entirely legal, involving issues of statutory interpretation and whether the regulator, the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority (HFEA), or the Department of Health have acted ultra vires the 1990 Act. This paper will reveal that there are a number of further areas which might be open to attack on this basis.

In the criminal law it is common to distinguish between motive and intention. One of the main reasons for so doing is that in criminal law we are concerned with the wrongfulness of an action in itself and not the agent's own moral evaluation of that action. For this reason, intention has become central to assessing criminal liability. But a similar problem arises with regard to the term intention. This is because whether or not an agent intends a particular consequence depends upon whether or not it was one of the reasons (that is, explanatory reasons) for which she acted. However, we ought to be interested in the reasons that actually applied to those actions (guiding reasons). Hence, the concept of oblique intention applies where the agent realised that a harmful consequence of her action was virtually certain even though it was not a reason for her action. Some writers suggest that this problem can be solved by including consequences brought about intentionally as well as intended consequences within the concept of intention. And this, they argue, is because the use of the adverb is (either conceptually or causally) related to our moral evaluation of an action. In this essay I show that this is not so. The concept of intention is wholly descriptive. Consequently, we require a suitable supplement or alternative to the concept of intention to reflect the highest degree of moral responsibility for the harmful consequences of our actions.

A legislative package which transformed the landscape of Australian administrative law during the last decade by invigorating prosaic models of judicial review, has attracted attention throughout the Commonwealth as ‘an awesome leap’. A burgeoning bureaucracy, whose commitment to legal norms is all too often diluted by excessive zeal in the pursuit of administrative goals, and the perceived inadequacy of conventional restraints including legislative scrutiny, the supervisory jurisdiction of regular courts and internal checks operating at different levels of the executive hierarchy, have heralded bold, innovative approaches.