I took a longish break from blogging, owing to ill-health on my part, and then to the death of a dear friend. As my (few) readers know, I use this space to think aloud about things I am not writing about. I’ve always needed somewhere I can misbehave, even if only a little. So it was fun to attract comments of the form, ‘You should read X’s reply to Y in the Intergalactic Journal of Z studies, if you ever plan to (=pragmatically-implicates=df: if ever I will allow you to) discuss this topic seriously.’ I deleted those. Also, when someone claimed a right to comments from me, I told them they first needed to apply to Oxford University law school and get admitted. I don’t think anyone did.
Then I took a permanent break (contradictio in adjecto?) from social media. I do miss Twitter for news and links, but I don’t miss seeing philosophers (and others) I admire being bullied and defamed by people who, as the Buddha puts it, ‘have poor self-control’. Very occasionally, I wrote to such people—but only if they were in statu pupillari—just to point out that they were making themselves unemployable, and not only in universities. (Possibly also un-dateable, but who knows, these days?) I miss Facebook for different reasons. It was the only place I could find out what was going on with my family—including, odd as this must sound, find out who had been born or died. Facebook was also the place my brethren ‘on the square’ would let me know what’s up, and where. I found work-arounds. But I am still on Candide: the most useful social media site ever invented (Grindr not excepted). It’s for gardeners. We talk about how to keep things alive, we admire or criticize each other’s plantings, we complain about the weather—we wail about the climate—we try to solve other problems, too. But how long will Candide last, before someone wrecks (monetizes) it as well? Probably someone who has never read Voltaire.
So, (linking non-sequitur) I think I’m now going to use this space to talk more about things I am writing about, or about things I’ve been reading. And here is a start:
I worked for a long time in Canada and in the US where many people teaching substantive (‘legal’) subjects in law schools are what I call ‘casual legal realists’. I mean they take it for granted that the ‘law on the books’ isn’t much help in court, and that what counts is to be able to spin a story—perhaps decorated with cases—that will appeal to the judge. Some casual realists acknowledged that such stories are not, strictly speaking, the law; but too many also had philosophical ambitions, and went on to tell students that this is what law really is. The law is what the judges say it is; or whatever the judge’s mood or politics is; or whatever strikes them as fair.
Of course, there is something in casual realism—certainly when compared to the fantasies of economists and so-called ‘Kantians’ in law schools. But I never thought casual realism was correct (legally or philosophically). I thought, and still think, that if a sexist judge regularly finds against female claimants, it does not follow that the law itself is against women. That might not be the law even if it would be economically efficient to find against women, or even if pure Recht ‘constitutes’ the freedom and equality of women via sexual complementarity–separate, but oh-so-equal. (Shockingly, Ronald Dworkin once mooted that possibility.) But: maybe the judge is just breaking the law? Or is stupid, or hateful, or…. After all, we know law professors who are egotists, sexists, racists, homophobes, and xenophobes. Why expect more of judges?
BUT: I also think that all law is positive: law is constituted wholly by facts about what actual people believe, want, intend, and decide. The fact that something would be fair, efficient, or reasonable—or even entailed by other true legal propositions—does not suffice to make it law. So what to say about the embarrassing facts I mentioned above?
It is tricky to square these thoughts: that only actual facts determine the law, but that the law is also in some sense a system of norms telling us (or at least telling judges) what we ought to do.
I’ve tried to tackle this problem before, but colleagues persuaded me that I had handled the ‘realists’ too roughly. Here is another attempt. While SSRN is misbehaving, it should also be accessible here