It is always a good idea to start with a text. Where better for a lawyer to find his than in a speech by Lord Wilberforce. During the debate on the Bill which became the Law Commissions Act 1965, the Act which established the two Law Commissions in London and Edinburgh as full time law reform agencies, Lord Wilberforce said: ‘law reform is much too serious a matter to be entrusted to lawyers’. What I should like to try to do in this paper is to give some consideration to the role of lawyer and layman (especially legislators) in the process of reforming our law. By ‘reform’ I mean improvement of the law. Mere change should not be confused with useful reform.

There is, it seems, a revival of interest in anarchist theories of law. But then there is always a revival of interest in anarchist theories of law. In the 1960s Wortley began his text, Jurisprudence, with a study of anarchism, and the early 1980s saw a succession of papers and articles on anarchist critiques of law. Despite this, discussion of anarchist legal theory has rarely moved beyond the introductory stage. Basic tenets have been outlined but detailed analysis eschewed. Part of the reason for this may lie in basic difficulties of definition. The concern has been with ‘anarchist theories of law’, but what is anarchism?

Most writers, whether they be anarchist theorists or academic commentators, begin with the proposition that the word anarchism is derived from the Greek anarchos and means either ‘no government’ or ‘no ruler’. Such etymology cannot take the place of definition but, beyond the bare fact that anarchism involves the rejection of rulers, no further definition seems possible.

‘Whatever the future of the subject, the content of the present courses suggests that jurisprudence has a capacity for self-renewal and an elasticity which enables it to interpret ideas from philosophy and the social sciences to law students in a way which stresses their modern relevance to the social and theoretical problems which an intelligent and critical study of law should suggest.’ So concludes the last survey of jurisprudence teaching in British universities carried out in 1972/73 by Cotterrell and Woodliffe. To what extent could their sentiments be echoed in 1983/84?

Ten years have elapsed since the previous survey was completed during which time important changes have occurred in legal education and its environment.

The occasion of the publication of a survey of jurisprudence teaching in the law schools of the United Kingdom is a good occasion for reflecting upon the point of jurisprudence teaching in a law school. There are indeed other good occasions for such reflection, and in fact this paper was initially prepared for such an other occasion. By the invitation of the Editor, it now appears in this Journal in revised form as an outrider to Barnett and Yach's survey ofjurisprudence teaching in the United Kingdom.

One cannot but compliment the authors on the thoroughness of their survey work and on the richness of detail of their report. This comment will not seek to rival that richness.

The well-known disadvantages of having an undefined requirement of dishonesty in theft have caused some writers to propose that the requirement should be more precisely stated. Section 2(1) of the Theft Act 1968 specifies cases where the defendant is declared not to have been dishonest (belief in right, belief that onc would have the owner's consent, belief that the owner cannot be discovered), and an obvious way of clarifying the law would be to abolish thc general issue of dishonesty but to allow a defence in these specific cases (together with such other specific cases as might be determined).

The only difficulty in the way of this solution, as I see it, is to decide what is to be done about people who abstract money from a fund intending to repay, or intending and also being presently able to repay. In the past, opinions have been sharply divided between what may be called the orthodox and the lenient approach.

The discipline of criminology has been dominated since the turn of the century by an explanatory paradigm known as ‘positivism’. The distinctive features of that paradigm have been both substantive and methodological. On the substantive side ‘positivist criminology’ has been marked by a commitment to the explanation of criminal behaviour (and deviance generally) in terms of characteristics of the individual. Thus positivist criminology has been notable for its explanations of criminal behaviour in terms of gross bodily features, patterns of child-rearing, genetic defect, and idiosyncratic personality traits. On the methodological side positivist criminology has been marked by a preference for scientific method in the evaluation of theory and scientific ideas in the formulation of that theory. By and large these methodological predilections have meant assigning a primacy both to the role of systematic observation in the evaluation of theory and to the avoidance of theoretical assumptions whose validity could not be checked by recourse to observation.

An efficient system of law reporting is beneficial in a number of ways. First, accurate reports are necessary if the principle that like cases should be decided alike is to be achieved. Secondly and relatedly, a strict system of precedent, which renders most decisions binding on courts, requires all decisions which have precedential value to be recorded. Thirdly, full reports of what judges say, including dissents, enable subsequent courts to consider the complex of normative and practical arguments which has been articulated in previous decisions. This both adds to the richness of material guiding lawyers and citizens at large and improves the quality of judicial decision-making. Fourthly, reporting courts’ reasons for reaching a decision is important since it exposes judges to scrutiny by fellow judges, practitioners, academics and the public at large. Reporting therefore serves the principle of accountability.