Oxford Journal of Legal Studies最新文献

What does it mean for a specialist department of legal studies, such as the Law of Evidence, to have, or to acquire, 'philosophical foundations'? In what sense are the theoretical foundations of procedural scholarship and teaching distinctively or uniquely philosophical? The publication of Philosophical Foundations of Evidence Law (OUP, 2021), edited by Christian Dahlman, Alex Stein and Giovanni Tuzet, presents a valuable opportunity to reflect on these existential questions of disciplinary constitution, methodology and design. This review article critically examines the volume's idiosyncratic selection of topics, structural taxonomy, epistemological priorities, and enigmatic thesis that modern evidence law is turning from rules to reasons as its organising intellectual framework. Whilst the volume is impressively interdisciplinary and cosmopolitan in authorship and outlook, some doubts are expressed about its implicit US orientation, limited engagement with institutional or doctrinal details, and marginalisation of normative criminal jurisprudence.

This article addresses three fundamental questions about a key phenomenon in special jurisprudence, 'areas of law': (i) what is an area of law; (ii) what are the consequences of dividing law into distinct areas; and (iii) what constitutes the foundations of an area of law. It claims that (i) 'an area of law' is a set of legal norms that are intersubjectively recognised by the legal complex as a subset of legal norms in a given jurisdiction; (ii) the sub-division of law into multiple areas matters to the content and scope of legal doctrine, to law's perceived legitimacy and possibly to its effectiveness; and (iii) the search for the normative foundations of an area of law is typically an inquiry into its 'aims' or 'functions'. This article systematically articulates, explains and answers these three questions generally, ie in relation to areas of law as such.

Contract terms can be express or implied. But what does that mean? I argue that the distinction can be illuminated by reference to the philosophy of language. Express terms are best understood by reference to the truth-conditional content of the parties' agreement; implied terms are derived from express terms by a process of reasoning, albeit one aimed at establishing the parties' commitments.

UK constitutional law establishes priority rules governing the relations among legal sources. According to the implied repeal rule, a later statute is preferred to and repeals an earlier statute where the two cannot stand together. There is a vast literature testing the rule's application in future-facing scenarios: whether Parliament in enacting legislation is capable of legally binding its successors. This article instead adopts a backward-facing perspective, focusing on past enactments. I examine Parliament's legislative power to disrupt how implied repeal applies to earlier, inconsistent statutes. This sheds light on Parliament's capacity to shape the constitution's architecture-here, by rearranging priority relations among existing statutes. I juxtapose the technique against the doctrine of constitutional statutes, and also address the implications for the doctrine of parliamentary sovereignty. Nor is the technique simply of academic interest. A backward-facing reprioritising regime has already been established in the legislation governing UK withdrawal from the EU. Lastly, the argument may be generalised to encompass other legislatures that also enjoy powers to disrupt the implied repeal rule normally operating among past statutes.

A legal system's 'official story' is its shared account of the law's structure and sources, which members of its legal community publicly advance and defend. In some societies, however, officials pay lip service to this shared account, while privately adhering to their own unofficial story instead. If the officials enforce some novel legal code while claiming fidelity to older doctrines, then which set of rules-if either-is the law? We defend the legal relevance of the official story, on largely Hartian grounds. Hart saw legal rules as determined by social rules accepted by a particular community. We argue that this acceptance requires no genuine normative commitment; agreement or compliance with the rules might even be feigned. And this community need not be limited to an official class, but includes all who jointly accept the rules. Having rejected these artificial limits, one can take the official story at its word.

In discussing whether legal systems are necessarily coercive, legal philosophers usually appeal to thought experiments involving angels or other morally driven beings who need no coercion to organise their social lives. Such appeals have invited criticism. Critics have not only challenged the relevance of such thought experiments to our understanding of legal systems; they have also argued that, contrary to the intuitions of most legal philosophers, the 'man on the Clapham Omnibus' would not hold that there is law in a society of angels because the view that law is necessarily coercive 'enjoys widespread support among laypersons'. This is obviously an empirical claim. Critics, however, never systematically polled the 'man on the Clapham Omnibus'. We boarded that bus. This article discusses findings from five empirical studies on the relationship between law and coercion.