Category: Constitutional Law

The Fixed-term Parliaments Act 2011 has been a failure – but the decision for an early general election should not be in the hands of the prime minister

7th December 2020

The Fixed-term Parliaments Act 2011 is an odd and unloved piece of legislation.

And it has not been a successful piece of legislation – in that the parliament elected in 2015, which should have lasted until 2020, did not run its full course, and neither did the parliament after that.

Indeed, instead of no general elections between 2015 and 2020, we had two – in 2017 and 2019 – instead.

No general election held since the Act was passed has resulted (so far) in a parliament of a fixed term.

In this key sense, the Act has been a failure.

*

But.

Is it an entirely useless piece of legislation?

No, as there is one important thing the statute gets right.

Before 2011 the decision for a parliament to dissolve and for there to a fresh general election was, in effect, in the hands of the prime minister – subject to a statutory long-stop of five years.

Nominally the source of this power was the the royal prerogative, for the crown had the ability to dissolve one parliament and to then issue a proclamation for a general election.

But in practice, it was ‘on the advice of’ the prime minister, and it was a powerful political weapon.

The 2011 Act took this power out of the hands of the prime minister.

Now, again subject to a five year long-stop, there cannot be an ‘early’ general election just at the whim of a prime minister.

*

So far, so welcome.

But.

Where the statute goes wrong is in respect of how there can still be an ‘early’ general election.

On the face of the Act there are two ways, both of which are problematic.

The first is that there is a ‘super majority’ of MPs – and this is how the then prime minister Theresa May got her general election in 2017.

The second is if an elaborate scheme of two successive ‘confidence’ motions – one of ‘no confidence’ and, if there is not then a ‘confidence’ motion soon after passed by MPs, there is a general election.

This second route has not been used, not least as it is not clear what should happen in the period between the two confidence motions.

And in any case, it does not really matter what the Act provides on the face of it, for parliament can just pass a ‘notwithstanding’ statute for there to be an early general election anyway.

This does not need a ‘super majority’ or elaborate succession of confidence motions.

It just needs a bare majority in the house of commons and a lack of opposition in the house of lords (and the house of lords will tend not to deny the commons its way on questions of appeals to the electorate).

And this is how the current prime minister got his general election a year ago.

The Early Parliamentary General Election Act 2019 was passed in a matter of days.

It was as if the early election provisions in the Fixed-term Parliaments Act 2011 made almost no real difference at all.

*

There is now a review of the 2011 Act.

The government has published a draft bill repealing the Act and seeking to revive the royal prerogative of dissolution.

Clever constitutional lawyers will argue about (a) whether the prerogative was abolished with the 2011 Act and (b) whether it can be revived.

(My own view only goes so far as (a) the 2011 Act did not expressly abolish the prerogative power and (b) a new statute can purport to say that the 2011 Act had no effect on that prerogative power – but I do not know which way a court would go if the point was ever litigated.)

*

Repealing the Act outright would, in my opinion, be a mistake.

Instead, the two mechanisms for an early general election should be replaced by the need for a majority of MPs (including vacant seats) to pass a motion for an early general election.

Given that, as in 2019, the early election mechanisms in the 2011 Act can be side-stepped anyway, this would be an affirmation of what the real practical position.

A prime minister unable to command a majority in the Commons should not be able to use the threat of an early general election against opponents and their own party.

It should be a matter for the elected representatives themselves to make that significant decision.

The 2011 Act may be odd and unloved and, in practice, not that successful.

But it did get one thing right.

Early general elections should be possible, but the decision should not be in the hands of the prime minister of the day.

***

This law and policy blog provides a daily post commenting on and contextualising a topical law and policy matter – each post is published at about 9.30am UK time.

If you value the free-to-read and independent legal and policy commentary both at this blog and at my Twitter account please do support through the Paypal box above.

Or become a Patreon subscriber.

You can also subscribe to this blog at the subscription box above (on an internet browser) or on a pulldown list (on mobile).

***

Comments are welcome but pre-moderated, and so comments will not be published if irksome.

 

Brexit, deal, no deal, and the politics of easy answers

6th December 2020

Today is a Sunday, one of the last Sundays of the year, and we still do not know if there will be a deal in place from 1st January 2021 for the relationship between the United Kingdom and the European Union.

One hand, there are three big pointers to a deal being possible: both parties want a deal, it is in the best interests that there is a deal, and both sides are still talking.

And it is still only the first week of December and, even taking the impending public holidays into account, there is still time for a deal to be finalised and even ratified if minds are focused and there is goodwill among all those involved.

But.

On the other hand, no amount of goodwill and focus will lead to a deal if the parties cannot agree on substantial issues.

There appears to be three issues of unresolved contention: fisheries, the ‘level playing field’ (that is, common and enforceable commercial and trade standards), and governance (that is, the ongoing enforceability) of the agreement.

Of these, it is difficult to believe that fisheries is really that significant – it is a relatively small commercial sector, and the parties have mutual interests in one side catching the fish and and selling the fish to the other.

A cynical person may think that the fisheries issue is only still prominent so as to provide domestic cover to the United Kingdom government against domestic political concern about the other two issues, which do go to  post-Brexit sovereignty and control.

Fisheries policy as a red herring.

*

The trade agreement between the United Kingdom and the European Union was supposed to be so easy.

The then-international trade secretary said in 2017:

“The free trade agreement that we will have to do with the European Union should be one of the easiest in human history.”

His reasoning?

“We are already beginning with zero tariffs, and we are already beginning at the point of maximal regulatory equivalence, as it is called. In other words, our rules and our laws are exactly the same.”

What he missed, of course, is that one main purpose of an agreement would be about what happens after day one: how is equivalence maintained and any divergence managed?

Points so obvious it is painful to realise that an international trade secretary did not realise this.

A Brexit secretary once boasted it would be easy to put in place a free trade area ten times bigger than the European Union.

Leaving aside the fact that such an area would be larger than the world’s economy, and so presumably would include the Clangers and other extraterrestrials, the United Kingdom has actually ended up with a free trade area smaller than the United Kingdom – with a trade barrier down the Irish sea.

*

It all seemed so easy, and it has it not turned out to be easy at all.

And this comes to the most basic problem with the United Kingdom’s approach to Brexit.

A complex problem has been treated as if it was a simple problem.

Any difficulty was to be met with chants of ‘Taking Back Control’ and ‘Get Brexit Done’.

The huge political and economic challenges of extracting the United Kingdom from forty-seven years of entangled and entwined law and policy was for the likes of Boris Johnson and Michael Gove no more difficult than writing a punchy 1100-word column against a slightly flexible deadline.

This is what often happens with populism – which (as this blog has said before) can be described as the promotion of easy answers in exchange for electoral support.

And so we have ended up with a month to go, with no idea what will be the agreed substantial and enforceable terms of trade between the European Union and the United Kingdom, and a real possibility that there will be no agreed terms of trade.

Brace, brace.

****

This law and policy blog provides a daily post commenting on and contextualising a topical law and policy matter – each post is published at about 9.30am UK time.

If you value this free-to-read and independent legal and policy commentary at this blog and at my Twitter account please do support through the Paypal box above.

Or become a Patreon subscriber.

You can also subscribe to this blog at the subscription box above (on an internet browser) or on a pulldown list (on mobile).

**

Comments are welcome but pre-moderated, and so comments will not be published if irksome.

The myths of ‘arrogant judicial power’ and ‘human rights gone mad’ and the Dolan judgment

5th December 2020

A ‘myth’ is often a word we use to describe a thing we disagree with.

But sometimes the word has its uses.

Some things are believed in as true without evidence or despite the evidence.

Take the example the prevalence in modern politics of two views about the relationship between the courts and politics.

The first view is that there is an over-reaching judiciary: that judges are often deciding matters of policy and other political questions against the government and parliament.

The second view is that the law of human rights has ‘gone too far’ and beyond the limits of common sense.

And now take the Dolan case on the legality of the coronavirus lockdown regulations, which this blog considered yesterday.

This was a case where the government had, in effect, legislated by decree – without any prior parliamentary scrutiny and approval – so as to remove fundamental rights of movement, of assembly, of public worship, of being able to trade lawfully and so on.

These widest possible blanket prohibitions one could imagine, all done with no real consideration of the proportionality of each measure and with no accountability.

Law and policy as sledgehammer.

If there was ever a case where there should be anxious scrutiny of the use of delegated legislation this was it.

The courts would surely surely step in, where the legislature had been sidelined.

After all, we have an over-reaching judiciary and human rights law is powerful.

Of course not.

Both the court of appeal and the court of first instance could not have sided more with the executive if they had wanted to do so.

Each fundamental right was a mere tick box for the court to approve the interference by the state.

The reasons for this outcome are familiar to anyone with a detailed interest in public law.

Our courts are invariably deferent to the executive on matters of policy.

The few cases where the government is defeated often turn on their own extraordinary facts.

And human rights law in the United Kingdom is weak and usually impossible to rely on in any practical case.

Almost all the rights under the European Convention on Human Rights, for example, are ‘qualified rights’, which mean that it is not difficult for an executive to interfere with those rights when it says it is in the public interest to do so.

And so the most illiberal legal measures in peacetime could be imposed by the government without prior parliamentary scrutiny and approval, and the courts could not nod any harder at the government doing this.

(My own view, as I set out yesterday, is that even if the individual measures were warranted at a time of a public health emergency, the measures should have been done via Civil Contingencies Act, which provides for detailed legislative and judicial oversight, and not through the Public Health Act which meant no real legislative and judicial oversight at all.)

*

There is a famous statement by a judge in a case during the second world war – a statement which every law student knows.

This is Lord Atkin in Liversidge v Anderson:

‘In this country, amid the clash of arms, the laws are not silent. They may be changed, but they speak the same language in war as in peace. It has always been one of the pillars of freedom, one of the principles of liberty for which on recent authority we are now fighting, that the judges are no respecters of persons and stand between the subject and any attempted encroachments on his liberty by the executive, alert to see that any coercive action is justified in law.’

But what most law students also forget is that this was said in a dissenting judgment: Lord Atkin was in a minority.

The depressing fact is that in England there is often almost little to nothing the courts can or will do against executive action, even when there is no prior parliamentary approval for the measures imposed.

Courts and judges are far better at finding reasons not to intervene than to do so.

If the Human Rights Act, for example, had a quarter of the power which its populist detractors accuse it of having, the Dolan case would not have been so one-sided.

Yes: it was a public health case, but that should make a court more anxious in its scrutiny of emergency legislation, not less.

To paraphrase Lord Atkin: amid a pandemic, the laws should not be silent.

Those who promote the views that there is an over-reaching judiciary and that the law of human rights has ‘gone too far’ do not care about this, of course.

For these cherished views are their myths, and so they will stick with them.

But these views are, in fact, fantasies.

We do not have an over-reaching judiciary and the law of human rights has not ‘gone too far’ – and the Dolan case shows this.

************

If you value the free-to-read and independent legal and policy commentary at this blog and at my Twitter account please do support through the Paypal box above.

Or by becoming a Patreon subscriber.

You can also subscribe to this blog at the subscription box above (on an internet browser) or on a pulldown list (on mobile).

**

Comments are welcome but pre-moderated, and so comments will not be published if irksome.

Freedoms vs Permissions – a liberal look at the Court of Appeal judgment on the coronavirus regulations

4th December 2020

A few days ago the Court of Appeal handed down its judgment in the Dolan case.

This was an application for judicial review of the regulations restricting freedom of movement and other fundamental rights which were introduced in England earlier this year at the beginning of the pandemic.

The challenge was ultimately not successful, as the leading legal blogger Matthew Scott explains in this thread.

There are a couple of things in the judgment that are interesting from a liberal perspective.

*

First, it was the approach of the court to the exercise of a freedom.

The classic model of freedom in a common law jurisdiction (such as England) is, of course, that one is free to do what one wishes – unless there is a specific prohibition.

This is the sort of liberty emphasised by those who trumpet freedom under the common law.

The court, however, seemed quite relaxed at this position being inverted under the regulations – that the starting point is that everyone is prohibited from doing what they want in respect of freedom of movement and assembly, unless there was a permission.

For the court there was nothing wrong with a general bans as long as there were exceptions where a person can satisfy the police and the courts that you had a ‘reasonable excuse’.

Here is the court’s reasoning on freedom of movement.

And then on freedom of assembly.

To make this observation is not necessarily to criticise the position of the court but instead to draw attention at how easily the court accepted the reversal of the classic model of freedom in the common law system.

The phrase ‘reasonable excuse’ has a nice nod-along quality that will make many people think ‘what could possibly be wrong with that?’.

Nonetheless it hands the decision on whether what you are doing is permissible to an official (or the court), and it will be they and not the individual who is the arbitrator of whether an excuse is reasonable or not.

And to take the position to an extreme: imagine a system where everything was prohibited unless an official (or the court) was satisfied you had a reasonable excuse.

That a person was never free to do anything, only to have the reasonable permissions of the authority.

What could possibly be wrong with that?

*

In contrast with the ease with which the court accepted restrictions on the autonomy of the individual, the judges saw no need to exercise judicial control on the government’s own freedom of choice.

Back in March 2020 the government had a choice on how to regulate so as to restrict the fundamental freedoms of individuals.

On one hand, it could use the Civil Contingencies Act 2004 – a dedicated statute for dealing with emergencies with an exacting scheme providing for legislative and judicial supervision.

Or it could blow off the dust of the Public Health Act 1984, where it could impose wide prohibitions without real legislative control, where criminal sanctions and restrictions can be casually made and revoked without there being any prior votes in parliament and only the academic prospect of judicial review.

The government, of course, chose the latter.

And the court of appeal, that held that individuals should be banned for things unless they have reasonable excuses, afforded the government a complete free choice of which statute to use.

At paragraph 77 of the judgment:

“[The applicant] pointed to various differences in the procedure and timetable for the laying of regulations under the two different Acts: see, for example, section 27 of the 2004 Act, which deals with Parliamentary scrutiny of emergency regulations made under that Act. We do not consider that this detracts from the fundamental point that the Secretary of State may well have had a choice of options and could have acted under the 2004 Act. It does not follow that he was required to do so; nor that he is somehow prevented from using the powers which Parliament has conferred upon him in the 1984 Act, as amended.”

The government thereby gets the benefit of a ‘fundamental’ right to choose, even if citizens do not.

*

None of the above means that the individuals should not comply with the coronavirus regulations – and it is emphatically correct that in a public health emergency of a pandemic, there should be be restrictions on the rights of individuals.

This post draws attention to how the court of appeal has gone about dealing with this challenge to the regulations.

Instead of anxious scrutiny of whether the broad prohibitions went further than necessary, the court of appeal seemed too ready to accept that the government can side-step at will a scheme designed to ensure proper legislative and judicial scrutiny of highly restrictive legislation.

A better decision of the court of appeal would have been to say that there was a presumption that in an emergency the government uses the legislation that provides more legislative and judicial scrutiny – unless it has (ahem) a reasonable excuse not to do so.

************

If you value the free-to-read and independent legal and policy commentary at this blog and at my Twitter account please do support through the Paypal box above.

Or by becoming a Patreon subscriber.

You can also subscribe to this blog at the subscription box above (on an internet browser) or on a pulldown list (on mobile).

**

Comments are welcome but pre-moderated, and so comments will not be published if irksome.

How Brexit may lead to Scottish independence and Irish unification

1st December 2020

So familiar is the three-word phrase ‘the United Kingdom’ that it can be forgotten that it does not name any particular country.

It is instead a description of dry and abstract political arrangement – the kingdoms that are (somehow) united could be anywhere on the globe.

Of course, the term is short for ‘the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland’ – but the shorter form is more common.

It is worth pausing and thinking about the phrase, as it reminds us that the United Kingdom is itself a political union, as much as the European Union or the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics.

And political unions come and go: there is no inherent reason why any political union is permanent.

*

This post is prompted by a tweet yesterday from the Conservative leader in Scotland.

The sentiment of the second sentence of the tweet can, however, be applied to another example of ‘independence’.

https://twitter.com/davidallengreen/status/1333459489383649282

And this will be a recurring problem for British Conservative politicians in opposing Scottish independence: the arguments they deployed in respect of Brexit and against the European Union can be re-fashioned in turn by those in favour of dissolving the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

*

For what it is worth (and it is not worth much as someone writing from England), I happen to support both Scottish independence and an Ireland united by consent.

This is not because I am anti-English and a rootless cosmopolitan, but a recognition that, in the end, all political unions will tend to come and go.

And although I dislike all forms of nationalism (which often tend to be illiberal), self-determination is very much a liberal value.

The people of Scotland and of Northern Ireland (and of Wales) should decide on their own political arrangements.

The United Kingdom is not necessarily a permanent arrangement.

Indeed, but for events before the Norman conquest, England itself could have carried on for many centuries being a geographic expression with a collection of smaller kingships (Wessex, Mercia, Northumbria), just as Spain did until the early modern period, and Italy and Germany did until the nineteenth century.

‘Great Britain’ itself – a combination of the union of the English and Scottish crowns and then of parliaments 1603 to 1707 – has no greater claim for political permanence than, say, the combined role of the British monarch being also the Elector of Hannover (which lasted from 1714 to 1837).

(On ‘Great Britain’ being a construct, it is worth reading – or at least knowing about – Linda Colley’s Britons: Forging the Nation 1707–1837.)

*

But liberal arguments may work both ways.

The liberal principles of internationalism and self-determination can often be used both for and against any particular attempt at political union – for example, an independent Scotland (having exercised self-determination) will seek to be part of the European Union.

The European Union itself has no claim either to permanence, and it may one day join a list of historical attempts at unifying Europe.

Brexit and the recent political events in Poland and Hungary are an existentialist challenge to the European Union, which it may or may not survive.

The point is that no political structure is necessarily eternal.

Many once thought the sun would never ever set on the British Empire, before its fairly rapid dismantlement after the Second World War.

*

There is also a plausible argument that it was only membership of the European Union of both the United Kingdom and Ireland that enabled the peace process in Northern Ireland to work and the Good Friday Agreement to be put in place.

Take away the European Union and that handy practical solution becomes unstuck.

*

So one particular irony that may come from Brexit is that the so-called Conservative and Unionist Party – by its absolute insistence on forcing through departure from the European Union – may be instrumental in breaking up the union of England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland.

An independence referendum in Scotland and a border poll in Norther Ireland are both now more likely than not in the next few years – and both may well go against being part of a United Kingdom.

And that would be an exercise in ‘taking back control’ – just not the ‘taking back control’ that Brexiters perhaps had in mind.

************

Thank you for reading this post.  

If you value the free-to-read and independent legal and policy commentary at this blog and at my Twitter account please do support through the Paypal box above.

Or by becoming a Patreon subscriber.

You can also subscribe to this blog at the subscription box above (on an internet browser) or on a pulldown list (on mobile).

**

Comments are welcome but pre-moderated, and so comments will not be published if irksome.

 

Jeremy Corbyn and the odd-looking application for pre-action disclosure

27th November 2020

In the Guardian there is a report about a rather odd application by former Labour party leader Jeremy Corbyn to the High Court.

The relevant parts of the report, by the respected political correspondent Jessica Elgot, are:

‘Jeremy Corbyn is to start a formal legal claim against the Labour party for suspending the whip, in a case which allies of the former Labour leader say is intended to prove there was a deal with Keir Starmer’s office to readmit him to the party.

[…]

Corbyn’s lawyers lodged a pre-action disclosure application to the high court on Thursday night. “All of this will be in the public domain soon,” one source involved in the discussions said.

[…]

It is understood Corbyn’s legal team are attempting to put in the public domain evidence of what the former Labour leader will claim was a deal…

[…].’

Taking these passages together, it would appear:

(a) there is not yet a legal claim by Corbyn but a legal claim is envisaged between Corbyn and the Labour Party;

(b) a purpose of the legal claim is ‘to prove there was a deal’;

(c) there has been a request by Corbyn to the Labour Party for disclosure of documents which has been refused (as you usually need to directly request disclosure first before you resort to making a court application);

(d) an application has been made to the High Court for ‘pre-action disclosure’; and

(e) the purpose of that disclosure is to place documents into the public domain.

*

For the following reasons the reported application does not make sense.

And the third reason makes the reported application seem rather odd indeed.

(Here it should be noted that the disclosure of the letter or its content to a political correspondent may have been done either by the Corbyn team or by the Labour Party, who would have been party to the correspondence and, as I set out below, we may not have all the relevant facts.)

*

First, it is not obvious from the news report what the potential legal claim is by Corbyn against the Labour Party. 

To bring a legal claim requires Corbyn to have a ’cause of action’ – for example, for breach of contract or something else.

With no cause of action, there can be no possible proceedings, and with no possible proceedings there cannot be an an application for pre-action disclosure.

No possible action, no pre-action.

*

Second, it is also not obvious how suspension (and restoration) of a parliamentary whip can be an issue for judicial determination – and on the face of it, such a claim would mean a court being asked to impinge on a parliamentary matter.

It is especially difficult to imagine how there could be a judicial remedy, for example a court order, that would oblige the Leader of the Opposition to restore the whip to a Member of Parliament – and what the sanction would be if the Leader of the Opposition refused?

Further or alternatively, what would be the possible remedy in damages?

*

In respect of both the two reasons above, the relevant part of the Civil Procedure Rules (the relevant rules of the court) for pre-action protocol provides that disclosure must (i) dispose fairly of anticipated legal proceedings; (ii) assist the dispute to be resolved without proceedings; or (iii) save costs.

But if there is no viable or real cause of action or judicial remedy then there cannot be proceedings to be disposed of or be resolved, or any costs to be saved.

A request for pre-action disclosure is not a legal end in and of itself, and so if there is no underlying claim or feasible remedy, then it is difficult to see how a court can grant such an order.

*

And now we come to the third reason why the news report is odd.

The pre-action disclosure of documents does not by itself place the documents in the public domain.

Here, the rule (CPR 31.22(1)) provides that:

‘A party to whom a document has been disclosed may use the document only for the purpose of the proceedings in which it is disclosed, except where – (a) the document has been read to or by the court, or referred to, at a hearing which has been held in public; (b) the court gives permission; or (c) the party who disclosed the document and the person to whom the document belongs agree.’

And so the stated purpose of the application, according to the news report, is not permitted under the relevant rules of court.

Perhaps those who briefed the political correspondent did not know this, but there cannot be an application for pre-action disclosure where the purpose is to place documents into the public domain.

That would be an abuse of process, even if the application was otherwise sound.

If this is indeed the reason for the application then this application has been made for a wrongful purpose.

*

We have few reported facts on this claim, and so the above commentary is only provisional: further information could make it easier to understand the nature and purpose of the application.

But we can only go on the facts which Corbyn or the Labour Party (or those briefing on their behalf) place into the public domain themselves.

If those facts are insufficient for a proper understanding of the court application then that is hardly the fault of any reporter or commentator.

But on the the basis of the facts which Corbyn (and his team) or the Labour Party have chosen to make public, this application is odd and it does not add up.

**

If you value the free-to-read and independent legal and policy commentary at this blog and at my Twitter account please do support through the Paypal box above.

Or by becoming a Patreon subscriber.

You can also subscribe to this blog at the subscription box above (on an internet browser) or on a pulldown list (on mobile).

**

Comments are welcome but pre-moderated, and so comments will not be published if irksome.

 

Why the phrase ‘to enshrine in law’ is a fraudulent device

25th November 2020

Every so often the demand is made by a politician or someone in the media that a thing be ‘enshrined in law’.

The impression that they wish to promote is of absolute seriousness – that the thing will somehow be set out in law in a way that will ensure its preservation and enduring respect.

A super-duper way of using law.

But this is an untrue and misleading impression.

In the constitution of the United Kingdom, by reason of the doctrine of parliamentary supremacy, there is not a thing that can be ‘enshrined’ in law.

A thing set out in an Act of Parliament can be repealed and amended by another Act of Parliament.

Or a way can be found of frustrating or circumventing the statutory provision.

And often there is not even a need to repeal or amend, or to frustrate or circumvent, because there is no real enforcement mechanism for the enshrined thing.

The notion that a thing can be ‘enshrined in law’ is a fraud.

*

To take a topical example, the International Development (Official Development Assistance Target) Act 2015 provides for a statutory target of 0.7% of gross national income is sent on overseas aid.

Section 1(1) provides:

“It is the duty of the Secretary of State to ensure that the target for official development assistance (referred to in this Act as “ODA”) to amount to 0.7% of gross national income (in this Act referred to as “the 0.7% target”) is met by the United Kingdom in the year 2015 and each subsequent calendar year.”

Looks impressive.

But.

But what section 1 provides is weak even on the face of the Act, as section 2(3) provides wide exceptions:

“(a) economic circumstances and, in particular, any substantial change in gross national income;

(b) fiscal circumstances and, in particular, the likely impact of meeting the target on taxation, public spending and public borrowing;

(c) circumstances arising outside the United Kingdom.”

And if an exception is invoked, the consequence of not meeting the target is that the government must try to meet the target next year, and so on.

Yet even these exceptions do not matter…

…as section 3 explicitly robs the entire duty of any legal usefulness whatsoever:

“(1) The only means of securing accountability in relation to the duty in section 1 is that established by the provision in section 2 for the laying of a statement before Parliament.

(2) Accordingly, the fact that the duty in section 1 has not been, or will or may not be, complied with does not affect the lawfulness of anything done, or omitted to be done, by any person.”

The duty supposedly ‘enshrined in law’ expressly has no legal effect.

‘Enshrined not in law’ would be more accurate. 

Yet politician after politician, and activist after activist, will parrot the line that the 0.7% spending commitment is ‘enshrined in law’ as if that actually means something in any legal sense.

(A similar thing happened with the various attempts to ‘enshrine’ in law the date of the departure of the United Kingdom from the European Union.)

*

A possible defence of the term ‘enshrine in law’ may be that it is a mere turn-of-phrase – verbal filler for those in politics and the media.

But this defence does not wash.

The term is invariably used to raise false expectations as to whether a thing will have enhanced legal protection – and as such it is a fraudulent device, as it will not.

And it leads to statutes being enacted, such as the the International Development (Official Development Assistance Target) Act 2015 that are nothing other than glorified press releases – and this is a misuse, even an abuse, of law.

‘To enshrine in law’ is a phrase which usually means the law is to be used for a non-legal purpose so as to mislead voters and readers (or listeners or viewers, depending on the medium).

*

By reason of the doctrine of parliamentary supremacy, it is impossible to ‘enshrine’ anything in law in any meaningful way.

Entrenchment is not available.

And by reason of parliamentary drafting, it will often be that the supposedly enshrined thing has no legal consequence.

There should therefore be a general prohibition on politicians and those in the media misleading others with the fraudulent device of saying a thing can be ‘enshrined’ in law…

…if there was only some way of entrenching such a ban.

**

If you value the free-to-read and independent legal and policy commentary at this blog and at my Twitter account please do support through the Paypal box above.

Or by becoming a Patreon subscriber.

You can also subscribe to this blog at the subscription box above (on an internet browser) or on a pulldown list (on mobile).

**

Comments are welcome but pre-moderated, and so comments will not be published if irksome.

 

 

 

Biden, Brexit, and the politics of process

24th November 2020

Process is the friend of President-elect Joseph Biden.

As long as the States duly certify their votes, and the Electoral College then duly votes in accordance with those certifications, and Congress then duly accepts the Electoral College result, there is little Biden really needs to do so as to become President of the United States on 20 January 2021.

Unless something extraordinary happens, Donald Trump will cease to become President on 20th January 2021 by automatic operation of the Constitution of the United States.

Process is his friend.

There is, of course, still litigation and political pressure from the Trump campaign.

(And it is testament to the lack of confidence many have in the integrity and independence of the currently composed Supreme Court of the United States that many can easily imagine at least two or three of the Justices voting in favour of the side of Trump in any election case before that court, regardless of the merits of that case.)

None of the current litigation, however, really adds up.

Indeed, the lawyering in some of the cases brought by the Trump campaign has been unimpressive.

And even if each of these cases are taken at their highest, it is not conceivable that it would ‘flip’ the result in a single State, let alone the entire presidential election.

Understandably, many are still anxious as to whether Trump will really go, and are concerned that some grand litigation trick may keep him in the White House after 20 January 2021.

After all, many strange things have happened in the United States (and the United Kingdom) since 2016.

But here it looks like process will prevail.

*

Process is the enemy – the negation – of the disruptive approach to politics of Trump and Bannon in the United States and of Johnson and Cummings in the United Kingdom.

That approach to politics prioritises mobilising a political base so as to enable those in political power to govern without checks and balances.

And as such, both politics and policy becomes a sequence of gestures, expediences and contrivances.

Process is an alien concept to this approach of constant disruption.

*

Take, for example, Brexit.

In approaching the negotiations of the exit agreement and then of the subsequent relationship on trade, the European Union has been dull, methodical, and relentless.

The United Kingdom, on the other hand, has constantly sought to rely on bluster and bullying, but at each stage has been at a disadvantage.

Johnson and others prioritised playing to their political and media constituencies over engaging properly in a structured negotiation process.

They have received claps and cheers, but those claps and cheers have quickly faded and are becoming less loud and enthusiastic each time.

Process has been the friend of the European Union over Brexit, just as process is now the friend of Biden in the United States.

This is not to say that process was always going to favour the European Union (even though the Article 50 procedure is rigged against the departing Member State).

The United Kingdom can also be rather good at the politics of process, when its political leaders take process seriously.

But throughout Brexit, a distrust of ‘Remoaner’ expertise and experience meant that United Kingdom did not have the benefit of those who were the match to the procedural politicians of the European Union.

Think of Ivan Rogers, among many others.

*

The populist nationalist authoritarian politics of Trump and Johnson, and of Bannon and Cummings, has shaken many liberals and constitutionalists.

Disapproval and tuttery has no effect; conventions are disregarded; inconvenient laws are circumvented and even sometimes broken.

It is akin to a wild animal loose in a village.

The unpredictability and noise and damage is unwelcome.

But, just as there are advantages for those who promote this destabilising approach to politics, there are also weaknesses.

And one of those weaknesses is that it cannot easily deal with process, if that process survives the attempts to disrupt it.

But.

The scary thing is when populist nationalist authoritarians master the political arts of process, rather than the lesser political arts of disruption.

We are (relatively) fortunate: Trump will soon no longer be in office; Bannon and Cummings are both no longer in central political positions; and Johnson now seems politically weak.

The next wave of populist nationalist authoritarianism in the United States and the United Kingdom may be harder to dislodge.

**

If you value the free-to-read and independent legal and policy commentary at this blog and at my Twitter account please do support through the Paypal box above.

Or by becoming a Patreon subscriber.

You can also subscribe to this blog at the subscription box above (on an internet browser) or on a pulldown list (on mobile).

**

Comments are welcome but pre-moderated, and so comments will not be published if irksome.

It has never been easier to mass-shame politicians, yet never have politicians seemed so shameless: the constitutional implications of a modern political paradox

23rd November 2020

The internet and modern communications technology mean that it has never been easier to to mass shame those with political power.

Only twenty-five or so years ago it was virtually impossible for any person to publish anything critical about politicians without going through a traditional ‘gate keeper’ – you could write a letter to a newspaper, send a manuscript to a publishing house, or telephone a radio or television show.

But it was almost always a decision of somebody else if your critical views got wider circulation.

Determined people could, of course, publish their own pamphlets, or publish a book through a ‘vanity press’, or start their own pirate radio station in the English channel.

Such eccentricity, however, was relatively rare.

Now anyone with everyday electronic devices can publish their views to the world.

It has been an extraordinary development in the history of communications, akin in its significance to the developments of writing and then of printing.

(And a development the implications of which have perhaps not been fully worked through socially, culturally, or legally.)

But.

Alongside this development seems to have been an opposite and equal political reaction.

For, although it has never been easier to mass-shame those with political power, it appears that those with political power have never been so shameless.

As long as their (minority) political blocs are mobilised and committed, various populist politicians – from Trump and Bannon in the United States to Johnson, Farage and Cummings in the United Kingdom, and others elsewhere – do not care that there is mass online criticism of their positions.

Indeed, the loud ‘liberal’ reaction is taken to validate and enhance their political appeals to their bases.

And it may be that this shamelessness is affecting constitutional practice.

Until fairly recently constitutional practice in the United Kingdom and the United States, and perhaps elsewhere, rested on constitutional conventions.

Such conventions do not have the force of law and so cannot be litigated.

Instead, the conventions were followed partly because their overall utility was considered obvious (any government minister who might have flouted a convention would realise she or he may be in opposition again one day).

But conventions were also followed because a failure to do so would lead to significant political disapproval.

Others would ‘tut’.

And in a small self-contained political world, such tuttery mattered.

But now, when there is constant appeals to political bases, such tuttery does not matter at all.

The Bannons and the Cummings of the political worlds do not care about disapproval of political elites.

Nor do the Trumps and the Johnsons.

And so we have one paradox of modern politics: never have politicians been more accountable on an everyday basis for their actions, and never have they seemed so indifferent to accountability.

This, one hopes, may be a short-term thing: the opportunism of a certain group of political charlatans at a particular time.

Perhaps constitutionalism and respect for constitutional norms will reassert itself after this rush of heady populism.

Perhaps things may get back to normal.

Perhaps.

But, if not, we need to work out better ways of enforcing constitutionalism and the respect for constitutional norms than tutting.

For even with the amplification of internet and modern communications technology, mere mass-tuttery will not be sufficient. 

**

If you value the free-to-read and independent legal and policy commentary at this blog and at my Twitter account please do support through the Paypal box above.

Or by becoming a Patreon subscriber.

You can also subscribe to this blog at the subscription box above (on an internet browser) or on a pulldown list (on mobile).

**

Comments are welcome but pre-moderated, and so comments will not be published if irksome.

 

 

Why constitutional law should not be exciting

19th November 2020

Constitutional law, at least in the United States and the United Kingdom, is currently exciting.

And this is a bad thing, as constitutional law should not be exciting.

Constitutional law should be dull.

*

At least that is what I have said, many times.

For example, here.

And also many times on Twitter.

It is an aphorism of which I am fairly proud.

But is the import of it actually true?

Should constitutional law be boring?

And if so, why?

*

Yesterday on Twitter I was implicitly challenged on this.

https://twitter.com/OlympedeGouges/status/1329012413828575234

The tweeter had a good point.

Litigation can lead to great, wonderful, heartening victories for those without rights.

Think of the great anti-segregation and the pro-abortion cases in the United States, or the welcome sequence of rulings on LGBT issues at the European Court of Human Rights at Strasbourg.

Each of these results rightly make any liberal person want to clap and cheer.

But.

There are serious problems if constitutional law is exciting.

*

First, litigation is risky, expensive and uncertain.

There is a certain frame of mind that has it that ‘common law rights’ that have come through ‘actual cases’ are to be preferred to those which are set out in a statute or other legal instrument.

(I used to hold such a view myself.)

But this view is complacent and reeks of privilege.

Few, if any, people are in a position to bring cases.

Litigation is expensive and takes up sometimes years of your life.

Litigation is inherently risky and, at least in England, you are often at peril of having to pay the other side’s costs.

And litigation is unpredictable – you can have a substantially strong case and still lose on some technicality that one judge may uphold and which another judge may not have done.

To say rights should rest entirely on case law is, in fact, to say little useful at all.

*

The second problem is that rights based on case law can be precarious.

What is given by a court can usually be taken away by a court.

For example, Roe v Wade is one of the most significant cases of modern times.

But it is (and has long been) just one Supreme Court case from being reversed and, if it is reversed, then the right to abortion based on that case is likely to be adversely affected too.

The right would be far safer if it was enacted in legislation, or embodied in a constitutional amendment.

Perhaps such legislation is unrealistic, and a Supreme Court judgment is the best one can have.

Perhaps.

But is still true that case law, and the excitement of case law, is not the ideal basis for such a fundamental right, as the right to have an abortion.

The right should be in legislation, beyond the risk of a sudden court reversal.

*

The third problem is that too much constitutional case law implies an unstable political system.

Constitutional law should set out the parameters of acceptable political activity with an agreed process for what happens when elements of a political system are in tension.

But if those parameters themselves are casually disregarded or continuously contested then that destabilises the political system.

Since 2016, both the United States and United Kingdom have had people in the executive who care neither for conventions nor for the disapproval of others for breaching those conventions.

Donald Trump and  Dominic Cummings both, in their different ways, see supposed constitutional restraints as things to discard and to sneer at.

This, of course, is a short-term view – the quick thrills of the vandal and the hooligan.

In the medium- and longer-term those with power need the authority which comes from settled, consistent and predictable political practice.

Here, authority can be imagined as being on one end of a see-saw, with autocracy on the other.

Any fool with power can be autocratic.

But such personal rules are usually erratic and rarely sustainable.

This is why wise rulers work through – and thereby develop – legislative assemblies, systems of justice, and bureaucracies.

Not because they are forced to, and have such things imposed upon them, but because they realise it makes peaceful and stable government far easier.

Constitutions change over time – even codified constitutions – but if there is constant intensity as to constitutional matters then this indicates a lack of consensus as to the parameters of a political system.

And that, in turn, indicates breakdowns in what matters are rightly in the realm of everyday politics: how those with power should be held to account, what laws should be made, what are the priorities for the executive, what should be the policies that should be implemented, and so on.

In the United States and the United Kingdom you can see the contradictions and polarisations in everyday political matters, with overbearing partisanship and constant hostility and confrontation.

This is not good.

And this is why constitutional excitement is a symptom of wider political failure.

*

Personally, I rather enjoy constitutional excitement – with all the sardonic glee of a Brummie Wednesday Addams (or should that be Wednesbury Addams?).

 

Some people, as a butler once said to a batman, like to see the world burn.

 

But it really is not good for a healthy political system.

Politics should be exciting, but constitutional law should not be.

Constitutional law should be dull.

**

If you value the free-to-read and independent legal and policy commentary at this blog and at my Twitter account please do support through the Paypal box above.

Or by becoming a Patreon subscriber.

You can also subscribe to this blog at the subscription box above (on an internet browser) or on a pulldown list (on mobile).

**

Comments are welcome but pre-moderated, and so comments will not be published if irksome.