It is not generally appreciated that Francis Mann was not an international lawyer at all by training. His thesis at Berlin University was in company law. It was only after he had been in England for some time that he began to write about private international law,1 and his interest in public international law was developed as a result of his friendship with Sir Hersch Lauterpacht. It was not until 1943 that he published anything about public international law, and in that year he published a substantial article in two parts on the relationship between national law and international law, in which he built on the previous work on Judicial Aspects of Foreign Relations by Louis Jaffe2 and on acts of state by Sir William Holdsworth.3 Subsequently he came to make this subject his own, at least in England,4 where the subject has never attracted the attention which it has attracted in the United States.5

This article challenges the rhetoric of hardening, according to which international standards become binding through WTO endorsement. The analysis of the system of presumptions set up in the Technical Barriers to Trade Agreement and Sanitary and Phyto-Sanitary Agreement reveals that international standards are actually used as a ‘ceiling’ rather than a ‘floor’ benchmark of protection, contrary to their original spirit. They represent a codified and agreed yardstick for least trade-restrictive measures, a minimum compromise between the regulatory regime and the trade litigation machinery. It follows that their nature—at least within the WTO system—is irreversibly distorted; they are treated as facts rather than as safety or quality devices.

This article examines the legality of the options that may be open to a State that is unwilling to accept a legal obligation created by a human rights treaty it has already ratified. It briefly addresses the subject of ‘derogation’ from human rights treaties before looking in detail at denunciation of the same. It proceeds to examine the legality of strategies such as entering a late reservation to a human rights treaty and of denouncing the treaty with the sole purpose of entering a new reservation to it.

The article critically reviews the litigation framework of the Chinese International Commercial Court (‘CICC’) using a comparative approach, taking as a benchmark the Singapore International Commercial Court (‘SICC’)—another Asian international commercial court situated within the Belt and Road Initiative (‘BRI’) geography. It argues that the CICC, despite being lauded as a visionary step toward an innovative, efficient and trustworthy dispute resolution system, does not live up to those grand claims on closer scrutiny. The discussion shows that the CICC is in many respects insular and conservative when compared with the SICC. The distinctions between the two litigation frameworks may be explained by the differences in objectives. Whereas the SICC was created to compete for international judicial business and bolster Singapore as a leading dispute resolution hub, the CICC is presently designed to provide a legal safeguard in BRI disputes with Chinese elements. This article also identifies major challenges confronting the CICC and sets out proposals for change.

The case law generated in just over two years' operation of the Human Rights Act 1998 (HRA), enables stocktaking rather than definitive appraisal.1 This article begins by recalling the markedly contrasting roles in United Kingdom law of the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) before and after the HRA, the better to appreciate judicial approaches to, and use of, the HRA in the areas surveyed. The second part of the article focuses on judicial use of key provisions of the HRA to interpret primary legislation said to conflict with one or more Convention rights and on judicial use of the power to make a declaration of incompatibility. It considers a selection of decisions, principally of the House of Lords and the Court of Appeal, which raise important points regarding the purpose and scope of the HRA as a constitutional document and indicate judicial uncertainty as to how the HRA should be conceptualised, interpreted and applied. With this emerging picture of a cautious and uncertain judiciary in mind, the final two sections of the article give detailed consideration to the post-HRA jurisprudence within two discrete areas of English law. Part III explores the impact of the HRA on judicial approaches to the clash between the freedoms of expression and assembly, on the one hand, and public order, on the other. Part IV considers the ‘use and abuse’ of the HRA and of Article 8 ECHR in private law family disputes. Finally, certain tentative conclusions as to the perhaps disappointing story of the HRA so far, will be proffered.

The judgment of the European Court of Justice in Cartesio was eagerly awaited as a clarification of the questions concerning the scope of the right of establishment (articles 49, 54 Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union (TFEU), (ex-articles 43, 48 EC) that remained after previous landmark decisions such as Centros, Überseering, and Inspire Art. This article analyses the implications of Cartesio in light of different scenarios of transfer of the registered and the real seat within the European Union. It assesses the interrelations of right of establishment and private international law rules for the determination of the law applicable to companies and concludes that the case law of the European Court of Justice after Cartesio, rather than providing for a coherent system of European company law, leads to arbitrary distinctions and significantly impedes the free movement of companies.

The Warsaw conference, 2013, marked the halfway point from the Durban conference, 2011, that launched negotiations towards a 2015 climate agreement and the Paris conference, 2015, slated as the deadline for these negotiations. As such, the Warsaw conference needed to register a step change in the process—from the airing of differences to negotiating them. It also needed to create the conditions necessary to reach agreement in 2015. This article analyses the outcome of the Warsaw negotiations with a view to determining the extent to which it paves the way for a 2015 climate agreement. In particular, this article explores the divisions over, prospects for and contours of a likely 2015 agreement. The 2015 agreement is likely to be shaped by the resolution Parties arrive at on three overarching issues. These are: architecture—whether the agreement will be ‘top-down’ (prescriptive) or ‘bottom-up’ (facilitative) or a hybrid version of the two; differentiation—the nature and extent of it, and in particular whether it will eschew or replicate the Kyoto model of differentiation and related vision of equity; and legal form—whether the 2015 agreement will be legally binding, and if yes, as is likely, which elements of the 2015 package will be in the legally binding instrument and which elements will be in non-binding complementary decisions. The Warsaw outcome will therefore be analysed with a view to providing insights into the likely architecture and legal form of as well as treatment of differentiation and equity in the 2015 agreement.

Article 21(3) of the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court (Rome Statute)1 provides that the International Criminal Court must consider ‘internationally recognized human rights’ in its interpretation and application of applicable law. This article highlights the difficulty of meaningfully interpreting this reference to ‘internationally recognized human rights’ in accordance with the ordinary rules of treaty interpretation. These interpretative difficulties lead the article to adopt a practical focus, examining the initial jurisprudence of the Court utilizing this aspect of article 21(3), concluding that although such jurisprudence reveals a number of shortcomings, the provision's tremendous potential as a tool of evolution and innovation is evident.

The recognition of foreign judgments lacking reasons raises several policy issues. Reason-giving is perceived by the European Court of Human Rights as critical to ensure an effective access to justice. Yet, foreign judgments often lack reasons because the defendant failed to appear before the foreign court, and it may be right to sanction this strategy of foreign court avoidance. Finally, the European Union has begun to implement its policy of efficiency of cross-border enforcement, which commands states to recognize such judgments irrespective of any other consideration. This article explores whether these conflicting issues can be reconciled.

During the last few months of 1997, vast areas of South-east Asia were choked by air pollution caused by smoke arising from massive forest fires in Indonesia. Thick smoke blanketed not only Indonesian territory, but significant transboundary pollution was also caused to several neighbouring States, primarily Malaysia, Brunei and Singapore.1 The problem was caused largely by the indiscriminate use of fire in the clearing of land by large-scale plantation owners and timber concessionaires on Indonesian territory. Land-clearing by government-sponsored transmigration programmes also involved significant burning. To lesser extents, small-scale “slash-and-burn” agricultural practices were implicated as well.2 The problem was exacerbated by the onset of severe droughts associated with the El Nino climatic phenomenon and the presence of combustible peat bogs in several parts of the sprawling Indonesian archipelago.

After almost 50 years in existence in a variety of different forms, the EU finally has an express proposal on the table dealing with the potential withdrawal of a Member State. Article 59 of the draft Constitution states that any Member State may now ‘decide to withdraw from the European Union in accordance with its own constitutional requirements’.1 The Member State would have to formally notify the European Council of this decision. The Council and the Member State would then enter into negotiations on a mutually agreeable basis for withdrawal, including a framework for the future relationship between the EU and the Member State. The results of this negotiation would require approval by a qualified majority of the Council after obtaining the consent of the European Parliament.2 In any event, withdrawal would occur not later than two years following the notification unless extended by agreement between the Member State and the European Council.3

Chapter V (Part 1) of the ILC&s1 Articles on State Responsibility2 contains sixcircumstances which, when invoked justify, or excuse,3 the commission of acts that are otherwise unlawful against another State.4 The circumstances attenuate or remove responsibility entirely. These circumstances are namely: consent (Article 20), selfdefence (Article 21), countermeasures (Article 22), force majeure (Article 23), distress (Article 24), and necessity (Article 25). Nonetheless, Article 26 of the ILCASR states that ‘[n]othing in this Chapter precludes the wrongfulness of a State which is not in conformity with anobligation arising under a peremptory norm of general international law.’

One might, by way of introduction, return to the general question. What is one to make of the debate between Professor Birks and the apparent schematic disorder of the common law? One immediate response is to consign this whole debate to a past age. Those who believe that meaningful legal reform can be achieved through classification risk being ridiculed.7 Such a view is understandable. The amount of intellectual energy spent on emancipating unjust enrichment from the categories of contract, tort and equity seems to bear little relation to the actual social benefits detectable in the restitution decisions themselves.8 And the experimentation with the public and private law dichotomy appears to have proved of little worth in the face of such social horrors as child abuse.9