This chapter explores the nature of the legislature and its relationship to constitutional government, focusing in particular on the importance of legislative agency and the dynamics that frame its exercise. The chapter begins by reflecting on the objects of legislative action, arguing that authorising a legislative assembly to legislate changes who legislates but not what it is to legislate. The object of legislative deliberation and action should be the common good and securing this end requires agency. The assembly faces many challenges in exercising agency, which it is structured to overcome, partly by way of its relationship to government, a relationship that goes well beyond acts of legislation. The relationship between legislature and government shapes the character of a constitutional order and bears on the relationship between legislature and the people. The legislature’s duty is to represent the people, which makes self-government possible. The legislature should deliberate and act for the people and be accountable to the people, with legislative deliberation taking its place in a wider public conversation. The legislature’s capacity for agency informs how legislative acts should be understood to change the law and helps explain the moral importance of legislative freedom and the limits on that freedom.

Legal activity in the third quarter-century of the life of the Convention has greatly surpassed that of the first two quarter-centuries. This can be measured in terms of case law and scholarly writing. The interpretation of the Convention’s definition of genocide has remained quite narrow, and is essentially confined to physical genocide, destruction and extermination. There is potential for this to change in such a way as to extend the scope of the Convention to situations where groups are attacked with view to being driven from the territory where they have lived. This would require a degree of judicial activism. Care must be taken because of the danger of uncontrolled expansion of the definition. The phenomenon of politicized allegations of genocide is significant. Although there has been some resistance to the idea of a hierarchy of international crimes, genocide should remain ’the crime of crimes’.

Several provisions of the Convention deal with technical matters under treaty law, including signature, ratification and accession to the Convention, entry into force, denunciation of the Convention, the role of the Secretary-General as depositary of the treaty, and revision of the treaty. There is no provision for reservations but they have been deemed to be acceptable to the extent that they are not contrary to the object and purpose of the Convention. The official languages of the Convention are Chinese, English, French, Russian and Spanish. The Chinese language version has been changed due to dissatisfaction to the original text, prompting protests from Lemkin and others. The status of the official Chinese text remains somewhat uncertain. The Convention also contains a ’colonial clause’, something that is today an anachronism but one that apparently permits States to avoid the application of the Convention in non-self-governing territories over which they exercise control.

In regressions where the dependent variable takes limited values such as 0 and 1, or takes some category values, using the OLS estimation method will likely provide biased and inconsistent results. Because the dependent variable is either discontinuous or its range is bounded, one of the assumptions of the CLRM is violated (that the standard error is normally distributed conditional on the independent variables). This chapter focuses on limited dependent-variable models, for example, covering firm decision-making, capital structure decisions, investor decision-making, and so on. The chapter presents and discusses the linear probability model, maximum-likelihood estimator, probit model, logit model, ordered probit and logit models, multinomial logit model, conditional logit model, tobit model, Heckman selection model, and count data models. It covers the assumptions behind and applications of these models. As usual, the chapter provides an application of selected limited dependent-variable models, lab work, and a mini case study.

This chapter characterizes History as an interpretive discipline, one in which conclusions are drawn by applying critical thinking to the available evidence, rather than one that aims to achieve actionable results from experimental or observational results. It points out that History aims not at reproducible and definitive outcomes but at broadening and deepening inquiry. It seeks to define what kinds of questions historians most value, questions that contribute to and enable such deepening and widening inquiry. Finally, this chapter discusses in greater depth the methodological and epistemological division introduced in the Introduction, between those more attracted to the historicist tradition examined in Chapter 1 and those more attracted to the methods, aims, and epistemological assumptions of social-science theory and of critical social theory. The chapter discusses both the strengths and weaknesses of these competing traditions and the pedagogical benefit of introducing students to both – the unique intellectual flexibility that the study of the discipline of History can cultivate.

This chapter argues for an approach to teaching History rooted in the ethical position foundational to the discipline. That approach is based on respect for our students and for the discipline; in it instructors encounter and learn from their students in the same way that they encounter and learn from historical subjects, and instruction in History, just like research in History, focuses not on controlling outcomes but on engaging in an ethically authentic process. It offers six approaches to instruction that can help build this kind of relationship between instructors and students, and between students and the discipline. These include consulting our students regarding their interests and aims; building instruction around the process of inquiry; making pedagogical use both of the breadth of the discipline and of its complexity, diversity, and epistemological and methodological divisions; focusing on teaching analysis, critical thinking, and interpretation; and bringing students to see their engagement with History not only as a process by which they master specific bodies of knowledge and methods of thinking but also as an open-ended intellectual adventure.

This chapter reviews the perspectives and levels of an analysis that inform how an observation is made. This is done by demonstrating that there are two perspectives (language use and the human factor) and five levels (summation, description, interpretation, evaluation, and transformation) of analysis in discourse analysis. These perspectives and levels can be used to understand the frameworks of established methodologies, such as conversation analysis, critical discourse analysis, and narrative analysis. After reading this chapter, readers will know that the analytic process can combine different perspectives and levels of analysis.

The final chapter draws some conclusions about the nature and status of stylistics as a subdiscipline of linguistics and the many and varied ways in which stylistics can impact on human society and life. The chapter ends with a ‘manifesto’ which makes the case for stylistics developing a clear identity which will allow its connection with other disciplines to be a mutually enriching relationship. The authors hope that both established scholars and those new to the field will find the chapter useful in reflecting on their own practice.

Gadamer’s attitude to Collingwood was marked by ambivalence: while promoting the Englishman on the one hand, Gadamer claimed on the other that the fundamental dimension of “hermeneutical mediation” had simply escaped him. In this paper, I aim both to assess Gadamer’s debt to Collingwood and the prima facie strength of his objections. First, I reconstruct steps by which ideas of Collingwood found their place in Gadamer’s hermeneutics in the 1950s, including the central “axiom of all hermeneutics”: the thesis that “we can understand a text only when we have understood the question to which it is an answer.” Second, I examine Gadamer’s main objections to Collingwood, the first one being based on a misunderstanding of Collingwood’s stance, while the second one hits home, and I argue in the final section that at issue here is Collingwood’s claim that it is possible to rethink exactly the same thought as that of, say, an historical agent, while Gadamer holds precisely the opposite view, that this is never possible.

This chapter discusses how to interpret the findings from six randomized experiments on community policing, and the implications for policymaking and police reform. The bottom line is that locally appropriate increases in the strength of community policing practices do not generate the changes to trust in the police, citizen cooperation, or crime reduction that we hypothesized or that its advocates claim. The evidence suggests, at a minimum, that caution should be exercised in advocating for the adoption or continuation of community policing in the Global South. New evidence may emerge that shows community policing can be effective in a different type of context, when implemented in response to demands from a social movement of citizen groups, with a different set of institutional preconditions, or in combination with other reforms, such as citizen accountability boards. Until it does, we suggest that it be deprioritized in the list of policy levers to reduce crime and build trust in police in the Global South.

These concluding remarks offer a sideways look at some issues raised by this book, taking their cue from the surviving iconography of the monument at the centre of Propertius 4 – the Temple of Palatine Apollo – to address the ideological implications of the different handling by Propertius and Virgil of Augustan mythmaking. Ultimately the many traces of Virgilian sensibility in Propertius, and of Propertian sensibility in Virgil, are easier to identify than to interpret. Yet Propertius’ obsessive Virgilian intertextuality (here distilled into a multi-part typology), while showing that the elegist is haunted by his epic confrère, is also an exercise of control that transcends generic anxiety to recognize and enact Virgil’s status as a classic of the Roman literary canon. Propertius’ Virgilian intertextuality, extending as it does to structural and stichometric parallels, may also have implications for the textual criticism of both authors, at least insofar as a Virgilian reading of Book 4 obtains. These last reflections find their way to a comparison with Shostakowich’s Fourteenth Symphony, where uncanny thematic, political and structual parallels with Propertius 4 give pause for thought.

The purpose of this chapter is to discuss the role of judicial dialogue between international courts in the interpretation of customary international human rights law. Judicial dialogue refers to international courts’ spontaneous practice of referencing other international courts’ decisions or international instruments that are outside the international court’s own judicial system. International courts engage in this practice in order to both identify rules of customary international human rights law and reach common interpretations on the meaning and scope of norms protecting human rights. Through the analysis of international courts’ case law, this chapter discusses the impact of judicial dialogue consisting in cross-references to legal norms and judicialdecisions on the interpretation of rules protecting human rights, especially when judges use case law from other courts in support of their interpretation.

Effectiveness and efficiency in judicial decision-making are the most important objectives of any court. While this concerns primarily the final decisions that are rendered, it is also relevant to the judicial process and the legal reasoning that a court or tribunal carries out to reach its decision, in order to ensure continuity and coherence. Traditional understandings of the international judiciary have seen the judges’ role as one where they discover and declare the law by applying it at face value to the legal issues that have arisen within the case, thereby achieving effectiveness through what is said to be direct and clear application of the law. This sits rather uneasily with the identification of customary international law (CIL), which is by its very nature unwritten and established by identifying evidence of state practice and opinio juris. The aim of this chapter is to examine instances of judicial activism in the decision-making of international courts and tribunals during the determination and application of CIL and how that allows for either judicial effectiveness or ambiguity.

The uncertain character of customary international law (CIL) has been discussed time and time again among academics and practitioners. To most of them, the uncertain character of CIL entails a twofold defect: first, uncertainty is perceived with respect to the identification of the rule, since we may not know whether there is a valid legal rule; and second, uncertainty is perceived with respect to the content of the rule, since we may not know the precise meaning of the rule. Yet, what seems to be missing from the entire discussion is the mechanism by which CIL functions. Although a number of theories have been formulated, there are no persuasive answers that would explain when and how changes in CIL occur. In other words, the dynamics of CIL, as the driving force behind its evolution remain essentially unexplored. Providing answers to these questions requires an in-depth understanding not only of the structure of CIL but also of the processes that occur in and out of CIL during its operation as a social system. This chapter uses complexity science to describe the functioning of CIL and explore CIL’s construction as a social system.