In Scotland, for hundreds of years, juries have chosen between three criminal verdicts: “guilty,” “not guilty,” and “not proven.” The “not proven” verdict’s legal meaning remains mysterious. In this article, I aim to describe and solve the problem. Applying modern ideas about standards of proof to the intellectual history of “not proven” yields eight plausible meanings for the verdict. With the extent of the problem in mind, I offer a solution. In the three-verdict system, jurors should deliver a “guilty” verdict when they believe that the accused has committed the crime and a “not guilty” verdict when they believe that the accused has not committed the crime. The “not proven” verdict is for all other states of mind. Clarifying this question matters for determining whether the verdict’s existence is just. It also offers some evidence for how the criminal standard of proof works in other legal systems.

Why should musical compositions and artistic images be included among the types of expression covered by free speech principles? One way to answer this question is to show how expression in nonverbal media can be functionally similar to other types of verbal expression. But this leaves us with an intuitively unsatisfying explanation of why free speech principles cover nonverbal creative expression that does not functionally emulate literal speech. In this article, as an alternative justification, we develop and defend the idea that musical and pictorial expression‚ much like literal speech, can be media through which people think aloud, as opposed to mere tools for the transmission of thought. We use this proposal to provide a more robust justification for including nonverbal creative expression in the scope of free speech coverage, and we outline some of the practical policy implications that come with adopting this justificatory strategy.

The rich evade conviction more often in criminal trials than the poor. They also win more often in civil cases against the poor. Given that money buys better lawyers and better lawyers are instrumental in winning in adversarial trials, the rich have a structural advantage in laissez-faire trial systems. Such inequality is concerning. In a landmark article, Alan Wertheimer argues that we should level down legal resources in civil cases on the basis that doing so increases the adversarial system’s accuracy—that is, its chance of reaching correct decisions. In a more recent article, along similar lines, Shai Agmon also advocates that, given some constraints of adequacy, legal resources should be leveled down in both civil and criminal cases. This article aims to show that such arguments fail because leveling down legal resources could decrease a trial system’s accuracy, making it worse by Wertheimer’s or Agmon’s own criteria.

It has long been said that legislation ought to be knowable: accessible, comprehensible, and so forth. This is often described as an essential element of the rule of law. But in many legal systems, legislation has become so voluminous and complex that few people know its content. Rather than admit that the rule of law has been compromised, some scholars take legislative complexity as a provocation to rethink what the rule of law requires—and conclude that, for various reasons, the rule of law can prevail even if legislation is not reasonably knowable to the people. This article responds to this line of scholarship and defends the orthodox position that the public ought to be able to understand legislation, or at least reasonably so. That is necessary to enable people to plan their lives in a way that properly reflects the role of legislation in contemporary administrative states.

I aspire to answer two questions regarding the concept of a corrective duty. The first concerns what it means to wrong others, thus triggering a demand for corrections (the ground question). The second relates to the proper content of corrective duties. I first illustrate how three prominent accounts of corrective duties—the Aristotelian model of correlativity, the Kantian idea that wronging corresponds to the violation of others’ right to freedom, and the more recent continuity view—have failed to answer the two questions satisfactorily. I then introduce my proposal, which holds that we wrong others when we fail to treat their status as moral agents as a source of stringent constraints on our action. I call it the moral neglect account. Once we have identified a common aim of corrective duties (counterbalancing moral neglect), we can fill their content in the various contexts in which wronging has occurred. I conclude by observing that it is not the primary role of corrective justice to assign responsibilities for damage reparations; in fact, requests for compensation make more sense if framed in distributive rather than corrective terms.

This article analyses the rationality of the principle of proportionality as a justificatory method for solving cases involving conflicts of constitutional principles. It addresses the “problem of comparability”: a set of arguments claiming that proportionalists fail to understand what happens when constitutional principles collide. The problem of comparability suggests that balancing cannot be done if some conflicts of constitutional principles are, in reality, cases of noncomparability, incommensurability, incomparability, or vagueness. In this article, I challenge the views of both proportionalists and their skeptics. Against the skeptics, I argue that proportionality can survive the challenge posed by the problem of comparability. Against the proportionalists, I submit that proportionality cannot be understood as a system of tradeoffs between degrees of satisfaction of principles. If comparison among constitutional principles is to be rational, we need a different approach to normativity—one that allows for the possibility of parity.

The “folk” theory of democracy that typically justifies the administrative state cannot help but lead to a discourse of constraint. If agency action is only legitimate when it mechanically applies the will of the voters as transposed by Congress through statutes, then the norms guiding that action will inevitably restrain agency discretion. As a result, attempts to establish the democratic credentials of the administrative state ironically obstruct the application of collective power. But this “folk” theory of democracy is bad theory. It is empirically incredible and, alarmingly, facilitates dangerous populist politics. Political theory instead suggests that a theory of democratic representation not only better explains legislative outcomes, but also deprives demagogues and deregulatory partisans of the fictions that prop up their agendas. After a brief survey of representative theory, this article will demonstrate that a model of trustee representation adequately describes administration, reinforces its democratic credentials and constitutes a space for politics in shaping the regulations that govern us all.

I defend the exclusionary power of political directives. The prevailing account, which I call the additive account, holds that a legitimate directive only provides a pro tanto obligation for subjects to comply. I show that it falls into a Goldilocks dilemma, giving either insufficient or excessive weight to these obligations. Pace the additive account, I argue that a legitimate directive not only gives subjects a pro tanto reason to comply but also excludes all the reasons bearing on its justifiability regarding subjects’ actions as required by the directive. Unlike Raz, who grounds the exclusionary power of legitimate directives on authorities’ supposedly superior epistemic competence, I justify it by drawing on Kantian political philosophy, which grants states a unique moral standing to make coercive decisions on behalf of their citizenry as a solution to the problem of unilateralism.

Discussions of metaphysical grounding have recently found their way into general jurisprudence. It is becoming increasingly common to frame the debate between positivism and antipositivism as a disagreement about what facts metaphysically ground legal facts. In this article we critically evaluate this grounding turn. First, we argue that articulating the debate about the nature of law in terms of grounding holds the promise of recasting it in a common vocabulary. Second, we argue that this comes at a cost: framing the debate in this way obscures a range of further disagreements that cannot be usefully analyzed in terms of metaphysical grounding. We conclude that grounding may give us a clearer picture of what we already knew, while obfuscating a number of important questions to which it cannot, and is not intended to, provide answers.

Courts in common law systems decide cases as they decided like cases in the past—even if they believe they decided those past cases wrongly. What, if anything, justifies this practice? I defend two main claims. The first is that fairness favors treating like cases alike if that means treating them correctly. The second is that, in general, a court is as likely to decide an instant case correctly as it was to decide a previous and like case correctly. Together, these claims tell us that departing from and following precedent are equally likely to yield a correct decision, whereas following precedent may also yield a fair decision. Adhering to precedent is the dominant alternative, as a result. Fairness therefore justifies the practice of precedent. While this conclusion is not original, my argument for it is.

There are reasons to believe that conventional obligations are impossible. Thus, it could be argued that for me to have an obligation to Φ in virtue of the fact that a convention so requires, it must be the case that I have a convention-independent obligation to do something else such that, given the existence of the convention, Φing is a way of doing just that. But, then, my obligation to Φ would not really be conventional at all. On closer inspection, so-called conventional obligations turn out to be no more than a specification of what our nonconventional obligations require given the circumstances. In this paper, I shall argue that contra to what this argument suggests, there can be genuinely conventional obligations. To do so, I develop a second-personal account of conventional obligations, according to which obligations are grounded by conventions in virtue of an explanation that does not follow the indicated pattern.

In this article, I introduce and examine the novel concept of bench representation. Jurists and scholars have extensively examined whether judges are or ought to be considered symbolic representatives of abstract concepts (for instance, the law, equality, or justice), representatives of society as a whole, or descriptive representatives of the social groups from which they hail. However, little attention has been paid to the question whether judges act as representatives for the parties before them through their everyday work on the bench. This article examines that question. Bench representation occurs when a judge, through statements or actions undertaken during the performance of official duties, speaks or acts for a party to the proceeding before them. I argue that serving as a bench representative is a common and valuable feature of what it is to be a judge and, despite appearances, usually undermines neither impartiality nor fairness.

I survey several counterexamples (by Raz and MacCormick) to Hohfeld's conjecture that a claim-right is correlative to a directed duty and (by Cornell and Frick) to Bentham's suggestion that a claim-right is correlative to a wronging. We can vindicate these claims of correlativity if we acknowledge that entitlements like claim-rights and directed duties admit of degrees of abstraction: that they may be general rather than specific, unspecified rather than specified, or indefinite rather than definite. I provide an error theory consisting in linguistic and practical reasons for why we articulate normative incidents in ways that threaten correlativity. And I deny that abstraction imposes a heavy metaphysical cost on rights theory, though I leave open whether abstraction excludes certain explanatory accounts of rights such as the interest theory or will theory.

Positivists and interpretivists (Dworkinians) might accept that conceptual facts about the law—facts about the content of the concept of law—can obtain in the absence of communities with law practices. But they would deny that legal facts can obtain in such communities’ absence. Under the moral impact theory, by contrast, legal facts can precede all communities with law practices. I identify a set of legal facts in private international law—the law of jurisdiction—that concerns when a community's law practices can, and cannot, have the legal effects that the practices claim to have. This law is noncommunitarian, in the sense that it precedes the communities to which it applies. In this law's light, the legal effects of communities’ law practices are legally coordinated (or, at the very least, can be shown to legally conflict). Although interest in, and even commitment to, a noncommunitarian law of jurisdiction has receded among private international law theorists, I argue that some well-placed questions can elicit from all of us a commitment to this law. And this commitment is a reason to believe that the moral impact theory is correct.

There is a common refrain in the literature on punishment that presumes the mutual exclusivity of defending retribution and adopting a humanistic or welfare-oriented outlook. The refrain, that if we want to be humane, or care about human welfare, we must abandon retributive punishment, anger, and resentment is readily repeated, endorsed, and relied upon. This article suggests that this opposition is false: retribution and welfare-orientation can not only be endorsed concomitantly, but are complimentary projects, and may even be grounded in the same normative basis, such that if we endorse one we are already committed to ideas that ground reason to care about the other.

My primary target will be claims that aim to undermine retributivism by demonstrating the desirability of welfare-orientation. If both can live together, demonstrating the attractiveness of one goes nowhere toward displacing the other. Further, establishing this claim invites further inquiry into classic questions about the “barbaric,” or “morally repugnant” credentials of retributivism. Confronting these claims will elucidate the consistency of adopting both retributive and welfare-oriented views, which, I suggest, can be jointly adopted and pursued.

Authority is a normative power to create duties in others. The most plausible accounts of this general power relate it to existing reasons the subjects of authority have with which authoritative directives can help them comply. Such accounts lead some theorists to ascribe a morally ambitious function to political institutions. This article argues against such theories. It defends political authority as a modest normative power, constrained by the type of reasons with which it can help its subjects comply. This modest account differs from other liberal views in the limits it imposes on the exercise of political authority. It casts doubt on familiar limits that protect an individual private sphere. Instead, it imposes a condition of moderation. It suggests that legitimate exercises of political authority should leave space for individuals to be motivated by reasons that political institutions do not and should not mediate for them.

This paper provides a taxonomy of the different kinds of theory that may be offered of an area of law. We distinguish two basic types of philosophical accounts in special jurisprudence: nonnormative accounts and normative accounts. Section II explains the two central subspecies of nonnormative accounts of areas of law: (i) conceptual and ontological theories and (ii) reason-tracking causal theories. Section III explores normative theories of areas of law. Normative accounts subdivide into detached and committed normative accounts. Detached or committed normative accounts can be subdivided further into the following cross-cutting categories: (i) pro tanto or all-things-considered, (ii) hyper-reformist or practice-dependent, (iii) taxonomical or substantive. Section IV shows that our taxonomy does not presume a prior commitment to any particular school in general jurisprudence. This paper clarifies methodological confusion that exists in theorizing about areas of law, and contributes to the subfield of thinking generally about special jurisprudence.

According to contemporary nonpositivist theories, legal obligations are a subset of our genuine moral obligations. Debates within nonpositivism then turn on how we delimit the legal “domain” of morality. Recently, nonpositivist theories have come under criticism on two grounds. First, that they are underinclusive, because they cannot explain why paradigmatically “legal” obligations are such. Second, that they are overinclusive, because they count as “legal” certain moral obligations that are plainly nonlegal. This paper undertakes both a ground-clearing exercise for and a defense of nonpositivism. It argues, in particular, that Dworkin's claims about the legal domain of morality in his later work are often mischaracterized by critics, because these critics fail to read these claims in light of his earlier theory of “Law as Integrity.” A nonpositivist theory that unifies Dworkin's earlier and later work, I argue, deals with the criticisms leveled at nonpositivist theories better than other nonpositivist competitors.

Take “legal reality” to be the part of reality that actual legal thought and talk is distinctively about, such as legal institutions, legal obligations, and legal norms. Our goal is to explore whether legal reality is disunified. To illustrate the issue, consider the possibility that an important metaphysical thesis such as positivism is true of one part of legal reality (legal institutions), but not another (legal norms). We offer two arguments that suggest that legal reality is disunified: one concerns the heterogeneity of different entities that are part of legal reality; the other concerns variation within legal thought and talk. We then show that taking the possibility of the disunity of legal reality seriously has important upshots for how we think about the positivist and antipositivist traditions, the debate between them, and their relation to other parts of legal theory, such as critical legal theory and legal realism.

The following two theses seem both plausible and consistent: in cases where it is indeterminate whether the relevant legal language applies to the relevant set of facts, officials are not bound to decide the case one way rather than the other, but may reason either way; all reasons for action are—in some relevant sense—knowable. In this paper, I point out what I take to be a robust but unacknowledged tension between these two claims. The tension requires some careful teasing out, but the basic idea is that given certain further plausible assumptions concerning law, language, and normativity, the two claims turn out to be inconsistent. In addition to examining the sources of the tension in some detail, I also address several possible objections to my argument and discuss which of the many theses should be rejected.