Legal and political thinkers have always battled with the question of justice and, especially within a society, about the fair and just distribution of rights and responsibilities. This question is, however, not only relevant for the organization of municipal or domestic society; it has become increasingly relevant within the international legal system. An area where this has been most rife in the last three decades is the international law on climate change.

In debates over rights, as much as, or perhaps more than, in any philosophical debate, it is important to see the wood from the trees. A little while ago, new life was breathed into debates over rights, as a new candidate theory emerged to rival the extant options. More specifically, Gopal Sreenivasan’s hybrid theory of (claim-) rights emerged to rival both will theory and interest theory. This new hybrid theory underwent a series of skirmishes with the interest theory. Moving from the wood, one principal ground over which battle ensued is the so-called third party beneficiary issue. And, more specifically still, descending into the trees, a particular problem within the foregoing third party beneficiary debate centred on what I shall dub Gopal’s Granny, a case wielded by Gopal Sreenivasan, particularly against one of the foremost defenders of the interest theory, Matthew Kramer.

The contemporary international tax regime has been increasingly criticized over the years from varied perspectives, particularly as to the unfairness it produces for developing countries. Some commentators argue it is unjust due to the lack of participation of developing countries in the policymaking process on an equal footing. Others suggest the international tax regime was designed by affluent countries to respond to self-interested goals. Some note that its current institutional design creates opportunities for tax competition and avoidance, which more seriously affect developing economies due to their relative dependence on corporate income tax and their greater vulnerability to capital mobility. Others specifically criticize how taxing rights, that is, the entitlement of countries to tax cross-border transactions, are currently allocated between home and host countries and how they disfavour capital-importing, developing countries.

Many religious associations exhibit internal norms that differ from liberal norms and rules. Such norms often directly contradict the non-discrimination norms and rules that are part and parcel of the liberal democracies in which these associations operate. Religious associations often are considered, in both legal and scholarly writings, exempt from at least some of these norms and rules. This tension between broad societal non-discrimination1 rules and the norms of specific religious associations has won the attention of scholars and courts.2 In many such debates, the background assumption is that these religious groups are voluntary associations functioning within a model of separation between religion and state; that is, such associations operate through the free choices of their members and individuals are as free to leave the associations as they were to form them.3 While theorizing about non-discrimination rules and whether they apply to religious associations that are funded via the contributions of their members is of obvious importance, this article examines a distinct problem: that of discrimination within religious associations that are directly supported by democratic governments. Recent research on religion-state relations4 has pointed out that, in many democratic countries, religious associations are funded by the government to a considerable extent. The tension between non-discrimination norms and the presumed rights of the state-funded religious associations to be exempted from such rules, however, is neglected in the literature. Perhaps this is because the most prominent legal cases of this kind were tried at the European Court of Human Rights5 and the U.K. Supreme Court,6 rather than the more conspicuous U.S. Supreme Court. This article asks the following question: in what way, if at all, does receiving governmental funding change the presumed right of religious associations to be exempted from non-discrimination rules? The ‘immunity thesis’—the idea that religious associations enjoy the right to be exempted from non-discrimination rules—is not challenged here: this article argues that if there is such a right to immunity, receiving governmental funding does not necessarily eliminate it. Much depends on how each case maintains the balance between the autonomy of religious associations7 and the protection of individual citizens from discrimination that impacts important civil interests such as access to jobs or high-quality education. Of the suggested variables identified to test this balance, three are internal to the associations’ structure: the centrality of the potentially illiberal norm to the funded religious association; the kind of violation of non-discrimination rules (either internal or external discrimination, see below); and the willingness of the religious association to internalize the cost of the discrimination. Two additional variables that can be used to test the balance of competing social values are external to the association and depend on the political-legal environment in which the association functions: the quantity of funding that the government makes available to the association, and the process by which potentially competing religious associations can become eligible for recognized and funded status. A multivariable ‘test’ is required in order to determine whether and how governmental funded religious associations can still claim immunity when practicing discriminatory norms.

The topic of ‘judicial discretion’ has been at the center of the debate on legal interpretation in the philosophy of law.1 In a general sense, ‘discretion’ here refers to the exercise of a judgment by a decision-maker due to the lack of legal constraints affecting one’s ability to decide a case. The most fundamental question on this topic is ‘do judges have discretion when interpreting the law?’ There are three kinds of answers to this query. One kind of answer states that judges never have discretion.2 Another kind of answer states that judges always have discretion in interpretation.3 The third kind of answer states that judges sometimes have discretion when interpreting the law, and sometimes they do not.4

We love our children. We really do. Yet we also find ourselves happy when they finally fall asleep, or when they go back to school at the end of their summer vacation. We wish we could spend more time with our children, we really do. Yet we also wish to pursue our own projects, both professionally and personally. This ambivalence hints at a basic characteristic of caring for one’s own child, which is known to every person who ever had a child: it involves both a burden and a benefit.1

Freedom of expression has been often described as a necessary precondition for democracy and for the implementation of an effective system of human rights. A deliberative democracy cannot function if citizens are not granted the fundamental right to express their views and to criticize the government without being censored.1 The rule of law becomes an empty notion if legal orders do not protect the impartial, autonomous judgments of the judiciary.2