This paper argues that the pari passu principle of insolvency law does not fulfil any of the functions often attributed to it. It does not constitute an accurate description of how the assets of insolvent companies are in fact distributed. It has no role to play in ensuring an orderly winding up of such companies. Nor does it underlie, explain, or justify distinctive features of the formal insolvency regime, notably, its collectivity. The case-law said to support the pari passu principle serves actually to undermine its importance. And the principle has nothing to do with fairness in liquidation. The substantive argument in the paper concludes by examining the actual role of the principle. The arguments made here have important implications for almost every debate about insolvency law, from the status of secured and preferential creditors to the appropriate role of corporate “rescue” procedures.

An important rule of criminal evidence is that evidence of a defendant’s previous misconduct (evidence of bad character) is prima facie inadmissible. The usual justification for this rule is that, in most cases, such evidence is either irrelevant or likely to have an unduly prejudicial effect on the fact-finder. This article questions this justification. After reviewing the psychological research on character, it examines statistical data on recidivism. The statistics suggest that those with previous convictions are much more likely to offend than are those without a criminal record, which implies that evidence of bad character will usually be sufficiently probative to justify its admission as proof of guilt. The remainder of the article examines various criticisms which can be levelled at this argument, in particular, that the recidivism data are misleading and that the way in which fact-finders reason renders evidence of bad character uninformative.

When, if ever, may a court award damages to a plaintiff whose case sounds only in equity, not in law? In Hooper v. Rogers an award of damages in respect of a nuisance which had not yet resulted in any relevant damage was upheld by the Court of Appeal. In Wrotham Park Estate Co. Ltd. v. Parkside Homes Ltd. Brightman J. awarded substantial damages for breach of a restrictive covenant to the successors in title of the covenantee against the successors in title of the covenantor. In Wroth v. Tyler damages for the non-performance of a contract for the sale of a house were assessed by reference to the value of the house at the date of the hearing, not the date of breach. In none of these cases could the decisions have been justified on common law principles alone and all are in fact founded upon the Chancery Amendment Act 1858, commonly known as Lord Cairns' Act. Yet in Redland Bricks Ltd. v. Morris, while the Court of Appeal considered that an elaborate discussion of that Act was necessary and, indeed, differed in opinion as to the result of its application to the circumstances of the case, the House of Lords, through Lord Upjohn, dismissed the matter briefly and categorically with the observation that Lord Cairns' Act had nothing whatever to do with the principles of law applicable to the case. The time seems ripe for an examination of the meaning and present status of the Act.

The capacity of the common law to develop and evolve is well recognised within both private and public law. This is indeed one of its enduring qualities. The objective of the present article is not, however, to contribute to the jurisprudential debate concerning the nature of the adjudicative process at common law. My object is more modest. It is to consider and place in perspective some of the recent developments which have occurred at common law in relation to the duty of public authorities to provide reasons. It is a well known and oft repeated proposition that there is no general common law duty to furnish the reasons for a decision. It is equally well known that this proposition has been the target of regular attack by those who argue that such a general duty should exist. A reconsideration of both of these propositions is timely in the light of case law developments culminating in the House of Lords' judgment in R. v. Secretary of State for the Home Department, ex p. Doody.

In The Concept of Law, H.L.A. Hart suggested that four formal features of morality distinguish it from law: importance, immunity from deliberate change, the nature of moral offences and the form of moral pressure. On closer examination, none of these supposed features clearly distinguishes morality from law, at least in the broad sense of ‘morality’ that Hart adopted. However, a fifth feature of morality mentioned by Hart – namely the role that morality plays in practical reasoning as a source of ultimate standards for assessing human conduct – does illuminate the relationship between law as conceptualised by Hart and morality variously understood. Because morality has this feature, law is always subject to moral assessment, and moral reasons trump legal reasons. It does not follow, however, that law is irrelevant to moral reasoning.

Distributed ledgers and blockchain technology are widely expected to promote more direct shareholder involvement in corporate governance by reducing costs of voting and trade clearance. Meanwhile, artificial intelligence may shrink the decision-making terrain where corporations rely on human management. This article analyses these technologies and concludes that, while such outcomes are plausible, their potential corporate governance impacts are likely more complex and contingent. Despite the implicit libertarianism that characterises much of the discourse, we in fact have choices to make about how such technologies are developed and deployed – and these policy decisions will have to be grounded in a normative conception of corporate purpose external to the technology itself.

The British constitution is famously unentrenched: constitutional laws are not intrinsically more difficult to override than ordinary laws. However, in the largely overlooked 2012 case of H v Lord Advocate, the Supreme Court said that the Scotland Act 1998 cannot be impliedly repealed due to its “fundamental constitutional” status. Unless judicial thinking changes, courts in the future may treat constitutional statutes, like the Scotland Act, as capable only of express repeal, making such statutes “quasi-entrenched”. In this article, we argue that, as a judicial innovation, the quasi-entrenchment of constitutional statutes lacks a sound legal basis. Parliament can make its intention to repeal a constitutional statute clear without making it express, and judges cannot, on their own initiative, ignore Parliament's clear decision to repeal even a constitutional statute.

It is beyond dispute now that corporations have replaced states as the most important makers of waves in the world's economy. It is also firmly established that with the increasing globalisation of that economy corporations operate in many cases far beyond the borders of the country that presided over their birth. A company which crosses frontiers to operate outside its original jurisdiction can bring problems of several different kinds in its wake. A court dealing with such a company may have to ascertain which law is, or should be, the law which regulates its affairs. The company may have internal disorders or may be experiencing difficulties in its external relationships. In seeking to grapple with these problems the jurisdictions of the world are broadly divided into two camps. There are those which look to the law of the place of the company's incorporation to govern these matters, and those which look to the law of the place of the central administration of the company as being the correct law to be supreme in this field. Some jurisdictions take a variety of half-way positions in this debate.

The importance of the principle of equality to the legal order of the European Union has been underlined by four important but contradictory cases: P v. S; Grant v. South West Trains; Kalanke and Marschall. These cases demonstrate various attempts by the Court to come to terms with what is meant by equality and to decide what protection should be provided by Community law. These, and earlier cases, offer various perspectives on the principle of equality. First, equality can be seen as a rallying cry, a political slogan but little else. Second, equality is a societal goal, a general aspirational principle of citizenship which may serve to inform specific legislative provisions, in particular non-discrimination, but otherwise has no legal force. Third, equality is a general principle of law which is designed to limit the activities of the Community legislature. Fourth, and perhaps most radically, equality is a free-standing, fundamental right enforceable against the Member States, like the equal protection of laws found in the Fourteenth Amendment of the US Constitution, and even against "private" employers. While it is possible to see elements of the first three perspectives in the Court's jurisprudence, the Court has not embraced the fourth. The article examines these developments and considers how the principles of equality and non-discrimination might be developed in the future.

[A]cts of parliament that are impossible to be performed are of no validity: and if there arise out of them collaterally any absurd consequences, manifestly contradictory to common reason, they are, with regard to those collateral consequences, void. … [W]here some collateral matter arises out of the general words, and happens to be unreasonable; there the judges are in decency to conclude that this consequence was not foreseen by the parliament, and therefore they are at liberty to expound the statute by equity, and only quoad hoc disregard it.

Since the creation of a new domestic action for violation of “Convention rights” under the Human Rights Act 1998 (“HRA”),

The problems of reconstructing the development of liability for animals in Roman law are considerable. Each of the remedies is attended by major difficulties for the historian. We have the following:

(1) A Twelve Tables remedy for pauperies—an archaic term, the meaning of which is obscure;

(2) A Twelve Tables remedy for depasturation, of which there is no surviving quotation, but only a small number of allusions;

(3) An edictum on dogs and certain wild animals, undated and surviving in two versions with hardly any juristic interpretation;

(4) A “lex Pesolania” concerning dogs, the very existence of which has been questioned;

(5) The classical actio de pauperie, the basis, extent, and remedy for which have all been assailed by the interpolationists;

(6) The classical actio de pastu, evidently superseded by Justinian's day and thus leaving but few traces.

The Common Lawyer, to whom these remedies may reasonably evoke the types of damage represented by scienter and cattle-trespass and the special rules for dogs and ferae, will not be surprised to find, in addition, the application of general culpa principles by the extension of the actio legis Aquiliae.

I. The Decemviral Remedies

Some strands of ancient tradition maintain that the Decemvirs adopted an eclectic method, incorporating within the Twelve Tables both ancestral custom and foreign law.

The English lawyer has been notoriously unwilling to admit the relevance of social sciences to his discipline. In part, this may be attributed to his lack of formal training in economics or sociology. As regards the latter, there are some signs of the handicap being overcome: much current research effort is now being directed to the interpretation of law and the legal system as social phenomena. But the application of economic reasoning to legal instruments and institutions has been limited and tentative. Although it has long been recognised that a marriage of the two disciplines is necessary for the procreation of effective norms in areas where the law clearly governs economic activities, for example, the regulation of trade and income redistribution, so far, in this country at least, creative thinking about central legal institutions such as tort, contract, property and crime has remained relatively untouched by such a mode of analysis. Yet, as Americans have demonstrated, there is nothing inappropriate in such an exercise. At first sight the subject areas of economics and law will appear to diverge significantly: the former is “concerned with the manner in which a society produces, distributes and consumes wealth when it is constrained by scarcity, either of tangible resources or of intangible resources,” while the latter is often viewed as a system of norms governing the conduct of individuals and institutions. Yet such conduct will generally involve the transfer and acquisition of resources. With this congruence of interest, therefore, the opportunity exists to compare economic analysis with prevailing legal rules on particular issues to see whether the “right” solution is reached.

The 2013 horsemeat scandal shone a bright light on some of the darkest corners of supply-chain governance across the EU, revealing a blind spot in current EU food law. “Beef” frozen-food products were found to contain up to 100% horse. The British and Irish are squeamish about eating horse. Even for those countries where horsemeat is seen as a delicacy, the horse getting into the frozen “beef” was often of poor quality and possibly contaminated with “bute”, a veterinary drug not permitted in food for human consumption. The ability of the EU's regulatory regime to prevent fraud on such a scale was shown to be inadequate. EU food law, with its (over) emphasis on food safety, failed to prevent the occurrence of fraud and may even have played an (unintentional) role in facilitating or enhancing it. Domestic law offered little better protection, thus showing the difficulties associated with the implementation of a multi-level and multi-agency regulatory regime. Beyond the regulatory system, the EU's core Treaty commitment to the free movement of goods may also have laid the ground for complex and opaque supply chains into which unscrupulous traders and middlemen could slip unnoticed.

In his recent book “Euthanasia, Ethics, and Public Policy”, John Keown puts forward two slippery slope arguments against the legalisation of voluntary euthanasia. One of these arguments claims that a defender of voluntary euthanasia is logically committed to the permissibility of non-voluntary euthanasia. This paper seeks to show that Keown’s argument either rests on a logical confusion or on a misunderstanding of the value of autonomy.