The Paris Agreement advances a heterogeneous approach to international climate cooperation. Such an approach may be undermined by carbon leakage—the displacement of emissions from states with more to less stringent climate policy constraints. Border carbon adjustments offer a promising response to leakage, but they also raise concerns about their compatibility with international trade law. This Article provides a comprehensive analysis of border carbon adjustments and proposes a way to design them that balances legal, administrative, and environmental considerations.

Writing in 1968, the year of the 20th anniversary of the adoption of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, Richard Bilder concluded that “in practice, a claim is an international human right if the United Nations General Assembly says it is.” Fifteen years later, as the 35th anniversary is celebrated, the authoritative role that Bilder correctly attributed to the General Assembly is in serious danger of being undermined.

The twenty-first century has witnessed significant challenges to the traditional view that international humanitarian law exclusively regulates the use of force in armed conflict. The death and destruction caused on September 11,2001, reflect the increasingly complex nature of modern conflict. Groups that rely on the benefits of globalization and technological advances to conduct operations across international borders are threatening the maintenance of international order. Their tools of violence range from conventional weapons of war to more modern weapons of mass destruction and potentially asymmetric “cyber attacks.”

As is known to every student of trade law and policy, the modern idea of free trade originates from the theories of absolute and comparative advantage developed by the classical political economists, Adam Smith and David Ricardo. Smith and Ricardo both addressed themselves to a sovereign unilaterally deciding its trade policy. They concluded that, with some qualifications or exceptions, a policy of liberalizing restrictions on imports would maximize the wealth of that sovereign.

Not so long ago the overwhelming majority of courts in democratic countries shared a reluctance to refer to foreign and international law. Their policy was to avoid any application of foreign sources of law that would clash with the position of their domestic governments. Many jurists find recourse to foreign and international law inappropriate. But even the supporters of reference to external sources of law hold this unexplored assumption that reliance on foreign and international law inevitably comes into tension with the value of national sovereignty. Hence, the scholarly debate is framed along the lines of the well-known broader debate on “the countermajoritarian difficulty.” This article questions this assumption of tension. It argues that for courts in most democratic countries—even if not for U.S. courts at present—referring to foreign and international law has become an effective instrument for empoweringthe domestic democratic processes by shielding them from external economic, political, and even legal pressures. Citing international law therefore actually bolsters domestic democratic processes and reclaims national sovereignty from the diverse forces of globalization. Stated differently, most national courts, seeking to maintain the vitality of their national political institutions and to safeguard their own domestic status vis-a-vis the political branches, cannot afford to ignore foreign and international law.

The discipline of political science has developed an active research program on the development, operation, spread, and impact of international legal norms, agreements, and institutions. Meanwhile, a growing number of public international lawyers have developed an interest in political science research and methods. For more than two decades, scholars have been calling for international lawyers and political scientists to collaborate, and have suggested possible frameworks for doing so. Some prominent collaborations are under way—sharing research methods and insights.

On November 14,2001, the Ministerial Conference of the World Trade Organization, meeting in Doha, Qatar, adopted the Declaration on the TRIPS Agreement and Public Health (Doha Declaration). The declaration affirms that the WTO Agreement on Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights “can and should be interpreted and implemented in a manner supportive of WTO Members’ right to protect public health and, in particular, to promote access to medicines for all,” and it reaffirms that the Agreement “provide[s] flexibility for this purpose.” The Doha Declaration mandated further negotiations on one important subject, providing in its paragraph 6: “We recognize that WTO Members with insufficient or no manufacturing capacities in the pharmaceutical sector could face difficulties in making effective use of compulsory licensing under the TRIPS Agreement. We instruct the Council for TRIPS to find an expeditious solution to this problem … .“

Over the past few decades, regional human rights tribunals have grown in both number and activity. The European Court of Human Rights (European Court or ECHR) now receives tens of thousands of petitions and issues over fifteen hundred judgments on the merits each year. The Inter-American Court of Human Rights recently tripled the number of cases that it resolves annually. At the time of this writing, in mid-2008, Africa’s own regional human rights court, the African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights, prepares to begin hearing its first contentious cases. Currently, sixty-eight states are subject to the decisions of the two established regional courts (forty-seven in Europe and twenty-one in the Americas), up from less than half that number twenty years ago. In the nascent African system, twenty-four African Union member states have ratified the Protocol establishing the African Court, with an additional twenty-five signatory states.

For global business, international trade and investment are bound at the hip. When businesses trade internationally, goods or services cross borders; when they invest, it is capital and other factors of production that do so. Companies trade to supply their foreign investments; they invest to facilitate and diversify their trade. In contrast, international law addresses trade and investment separately and regulates them in ways that are dramatically different. First, trade has been governed multilaterally since 1947 through what today is the World Trade Organization (WTO), whereas close to 2,600 separate bilateral investment treaties (BITs), which mushroomed only in the 1980s and 1990s, now regulate foreign direct investment (FDI). Second, hundreds of increasingly sophisticated WTO rules discipline trade, whereas a mere handful of principles cover investment—many of which derive from customary international law. Third, trade agreements are enforced exclusively between states, with reciprocal trade sanctions as the remedy of last resort; under investment treaties, private companies have standing to claim monetary damages from host country governments.

I have mixed feelings about participating in this symposium as the feminist voice. On the one hand, I want to support the symposium editors’ attempt to broaden the standard categories of international legal methodologies by including feminism in this undertaking. On the other hand, I am conscious of the limits of my analysis and its unrepresentativeness—the particularity of my nationality, race, class, sexuality, education and profession shapes my outlook and ideas on international law. I clearly cannot speak for all women participants in and observers of the international legal system. I also hope that one day I will stop being positioned always as a feminist and will qualify as a fully fledged international lawyer. My reservations are also more general because presenting feminism as one of seven rival methodological traditions may give a false sense of its nature. The symposium editors’ memorandum to the participants encouraged a certain competitiveness: we were asked, “Why is your method better than others?” I cannot answer this question. I do not see feminist methods as ready alternatives to any of the other methods represented in this symposium. Feminist methods emphasize conversations and dialogue rather than the production of a single, triumphant truth.1 They will not lead to neat “legal” answers because they are challenging the very categories of “law” and “nonlaw.” Feminist methods seek to expose and question the limited bases of international law’s claim to objectivity and impartiality and insist on the importance of gender relations as a category of analysis. The term “gender” here refers to the social construction of differences between women and men and ideas of “femininity” and “masculinity”—the excess cultural baggage associated with biological sex.

When the skin of an Australian platypus was first taken to England in the 1700s, scientists thought it was a fake. It looked like someone had sewn a duck’s bill onto a beaver’s body; one scientist even took a pair of scissors to the skin looking for stitches. The animal had fur and was warm-blooded like a mammal, yet laid eggs and had webbed feet like a bird or a reptile. Scientists struggled to categorize this unusual creature. Was it a bird, a mammal, or a reptile? Or was it some strange hybrid of all three?

In this shrinking world, states are increasingly interdependent and interconnected, a development that has affected international law. Early international law dealt with bilateral relations between autonomous states. The principal subjects until well into this century were diplomatic relations, war, treaties and the law of the sea. One of the most significant developments in international law during the twentieth century has been the expanded role played by multilateral treaties addressed to the common concerns of states. Often they clarify and improve rules of international law through the process of rendering them in binding written agreements. These treaties also promote the coordination of uniform state behavior in a variety of areas. International organizations, themselves the creatures of multilateral treaties, have also assumed increasing prominence in the last half of this century. They contribute to the coordination and facilitation of contemporary international relations on the basis of legal principles.

If an event in the physical world contradicts all scientific forecasts, and thus challenges the assumptions on which the forecasts have been based, it is the natural reaction of scientific inquiry to reëxamine the foundations of the specific science and attempt to reconcile scientific findings and empirical facts. The social sciences do not react in the same way. They have an inveterate tendency to stick to their assumptions and to suffer constant defeat from experience rather than to change their assumptions inthe light of contradicting facts. This resistance to change is uppermost in the history of international law. All the schemes and devices by which great humanitarians and shrewd politicians endeavored to reorganize the relations between states on the basis of law, have not stood the trial of history.

Few propositions about international law have enjoyed more support than the proposition that, under the Charter of the United Nations, the use of force by way of reprisals is illegal. Although, indeed, the words “reprisals” and “retaliation ” are not to be found in the Charter, this proposition was generally regarded by writers2 and by the Security Council as the logical and necessary consequence of the prohibition of force in Article 2(4), the injunction to settle disputes peacefully in Article 2(3) and the limiting of permissible force by states to self-defense. The U.N. Declaration on Principles of International Law concerning Friendly Relations and Co-operation among States, adopted by General Assembly Resolution 2625 (XXV) on October 24, 1970, contains the following categorical statement: “States have a duty to refrain from acts of reprisal involving the use of force.”

It is now conventional wisdom that the proliferation of ethnic-based violence constitutes the greatest threat to public order and human rights since the lifting of the Iron Curtain. The eruption of hatreds, whether suppressed or ignored for a half century or newly arisen, has unleashed centrifugal forces that are pulling states apart from Africa to Europe to South and Central Asia. To date, the response of the effective decision makers in the international community has been ambiguous and inconstant: the United Nations member states reiterate the importance of the unity of all states, but they accept accomplished breakups after the fact, all the while insisting on the protection of minorities within states. Political philosophers struggle with the circumstances under which secession and dissolution are desirable; international law declares the lack of either a blanket right to, or prohibition against, secession and seemingly relegates its achievement to a pure power calculus.

Are obligations assumed by states under international human rights treaties applicable extraterritorially during periods of armed conflict and military occupation? This was one of the issues addressed by the International Court of Justice (ICJ) in its advisory opinion Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory. The Court indicated that the obligations assumed by Israel under the International Covenants on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) and on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (ICESC), and the Convention on the Rights of the Child (CROC) applied in the occupied territories and that the construction of the security barrier constituted “breaches” by Israel of various of its obligations under these instruments.

In the Bangladesh crisis, two important objectives of international law appeared to be in conflict: that of peace and that of justice. The former objective is set out in the rules of the U.N. Charter against the use of force by states except in self-defense against an armed attack. The second is found in the provisions of the Charter and in various resolutions, declarations, and covenants pertaining to fundamental human rights and self determination.