As the last straw, a question: where does it (From Apology to Utopia) lead us to, what are we to make of and with it (international law)? The author himself hints at an answer in the very last sentence of the Epilogue, which marks the difference between the original and this new edition of From Apology to Utopia (FATU), by pointing to his second Hauptwerk, the seminal Gentle Civilizer of Nations and the story about international lawyers it tells. Indeed, the last paragraph of FATU thereby becomes a sort of epi-epilogue, an interpretive afterthought on Gentle Civilizer, written after the original FATU, within the afterthought of FATU's new edition, written after Gentle Civilizer. The latter is taken to illustrate the consequences of FATU for both individual practitioner and academic lawyers, notably the continuous double bind between law and politics inherent in the structure of international law. That double bind demands, according to Koskenniemi, at once coolness and passion, that is, as he concludes, “a full mastery of the grammar and a sensitivity to the uses to which it is put.” This, of course, alludes once again to the twofold intent that inspires FATU: to disinter with archeological precision the grammatical structure of international law and to thereby enable its critique, or, as the author puts it in the Epilogue, to join a descriptive with a normative project. The double-edged argument that has resulted from this combination has uniquely captured the letter and spirit of international legal practice and has mesmerized the international legal profession ever since it first appeared in 1989. Together with Gentle Civilizer, it has justly made its author into one of the iconic figures of international legal theory of the intellectual fin-de-siècle of the outgoing twentieth and the incoming twenty-first century. Yet, for all the echoes FATU has been occasioning in virtually all corners of the legal theoretical spectrum, the consequences that flow from it for legal theory and practice have remained somewhat under-explored.

From the preceding essays, but also from the general discussion around From Apology, two themes emerge as a constant source of puzzlement, not least to myself. How does the argument in that book affect – if at all – the way we do international law? And what does the claim to be “critical” really mean? These are, I suppose, aspects of one larger set of problems that permeate the whole of that work. “Oh yes, it does describe the argumentative patterns pretty well. But it does not really change anything, does it?” One might approach this sort of query in different ways. It might be thought of as an expression of the classical theme about the relations of theory and practice in the social sciences. How do academic works influence the social world to which they are addressed? Or one might be more interested in the specific relationship between (academic) doctrines and legal practice – the “outside” and the “inside” of the legal profession.

Harmonisation of the different rights of withdrawal, enshrined in legislation on doorstep selling, distance selling, timesharing, and in the near future consumer credit, is amongst the top issues of the EC agenda on European private law. Germany, following its tradition of a well-organised system of private law rules, has tried for some time to establish a harmonised system at the national level. At the same time, Germany appears to have created one of the most detailed set of rules on the right of withdrawal in Europe, in particular with a view to the consequences of the withdrawal from a contract, and it has tried to find the right balance between the interests of consumers and traders, a challenge that will also come up at EC level.