Why would any country put abortion in the Constitution?

by Mairead Enright. (@maireadenright)

In Ireland, the abortion debate is often conducted by reference to Britain. Conservatives associate the Abortion Act 1967 with the bogeyman of  ‘abortion on demand’. In the struggle to ‘be different from Britain’, we perhaps miss some of our commonalities with other countries which have taken a similar route to regulating abortion. Ireland is unusual in ‘writing abortion into the Constitution’, but it is not alone. It is very difficult to generalise across jurisdictions, especially because Constitutions perform different functions in different jurisdictions, and are subject to different procedures for amendment. However, a quick survey suggests that Ireland has only about 20 fellow travellers; a few in Europe (such as Hungary and the Czech Republic), more in South America, where the trend began (Chile, Honduras, Ecuador, El Salvador) and the rest in Africa (Swaziland, Somalia, Uganda, Kenya, Zambia, Zimbabwe etc). I am not sure if this is an exhaustive list, and would be grateful for corrections and references. Constitutional abortion provisions take a variety of different forms. Some date to the 1980’s while others are very new.

  • The most common is a broad assertion that the right to life begins at conception or before birth: Czech Republic, Slovak Republic, Hungary, Dominican Republic, Ecuador, El Salvador, Guatemala, and Paraguay. Madagascar has a similar ‘right to health’ provision.
  • Statements of the unborn’s right to life: Chile and statements of the unborn’s right to be treated legally as a born person: Honduras, Peru. Interestingly, like the 8th Amendment, these also date from the late 1970’s/early 1980’s.
  • Provisions which equate the right to life of the unborn with that of the mother: Only Ireland and the Philippines have done this.
  • Provisions which set out the grounds for access to abortion: Somalia, Swaziland and Kenya.
  • Provisions deferring to the legislature, stating that abortion is illegal except as provided by legislation: Uganda, Zambia and Zimbabwe. Kenya and Swaziland have a similar provision, in addition to stating current specific grounds.

What have the results been?

A constitutional abortion provision is generally a mark of restrictive abortion laws. As shorthand, if you use the Center for Reproductive Rights well-known map of abortion laws, you will find most of these countries in the ‘red’ zone with Ireland; officially prohibiting abortion or allowing only life-saving abortions. These regimes are incompatible with women’s human rights to freedom from inhuman and degrading treatment, health, autonomy and so on. A few of our fellow-travellers are in the ‘yellow zone’, permitting access on grounds of physical and sometimes mental health and foetal impairment. Whatever the law says on paper, practical access to abortion is often poor, even for those women entitled to it in principle.

However, not all of these countries have such restrictive abortion laws. Hungary and the Slovak and Czech Republics have more liberal abortion laws than Ireland, at least on paper. A general statement of the obligation to protect unborn life does not in itself translate into either criminalisation, or restrictive grounds for abortion. The Constitutional Court of the Slovak Republic held in 2007 that a 12 week period of abortion on request was compatible with the constitutional provision on unborn life. Despite the Constitution’s foetal life provision, it was possible for the Slovak court to come to a similar position to that taken by constitutional courts elsewhere in Europe. Ireland’s Supreme Court has not be able to draw similar conclusions because the Supreme Court in X  held that the mother’s right to survival and the foetus’ right to be born are equal.

That said,  foetal life provisions are malleable, as are all constitutional rights. They operate in their particular context. Similar constitutional provisions are invoked to support regressive abortion policy in Hungary,and criminalisation of women in Ecuador. They can also ground extremely restrictive judgments by superior courts, as happened, for example, when an attempt to decriminalise abortion in the Dominican Republic was struck down, and when the Chilean constitutional tribunal blocked government efforts to distribute the morning after pill. Famously in El Salvador in 2013, the Supreme Court denied a seriously ill woman a termination even though her foetus could not survive birth.

The African provisions might catch the eye of those lobbying for ‘replacement’ rather than repeal. Some of these are indeed liberalising amendments by comparison with what preceded them. However, they are vulnerable to political intransigence. In Kenya, for example, lack of guidelines interpreting the constitutional provision has left doctors unwilling to provide legal abortion services. A case is forthcoming in the High Court. In Swaziland, although women’s groups welcomed the constitutional reform, no steps have been taken to legislate for abortion. Inconsistent interpretation of the abortion law has also been a problem in Uganda. As we know in Ireland, while abortion is in the constitution, legislators can (perhaps paradoxically) shirk their responsibility to legislate for it.

How does abortion end up in the Constitution?

It is impossible to answer that fascinating question fully for all of these very different countries, in all their complexity, in a single blog post.  In Ireland, constitutional abortion law has been a place to work through and make statements about national identity; abortion is the place where religious, post-conflict and post-colonial tensions meet. In 1983, PLAC capitalised on a period of political instability to place a near-permanent block in the way of women’s reproductive rights. It is an old adage that these tensions are worked out over women’s bodies, often with the assistance of powerful foreign lobbies.

Sometimes the identitarian nature of other countries’ law seems to appear on on the face of it. Somalia’s abortion provision, for example, explicitly references the shari’a. In other cases, we have to look to the context in which the provision was inserted into the Constitution.

Older constitutional abortion laws are associated with regimes which place a premium on national identity, whether as part of a process of self-definition after a prolonged period of violence, or as part of an ideology of ‘national security’ associated with military authoritarianism. Honduras’ provision is in a constitution passed in a period of instability after 10 years of military rule. One of the oldest constitutional abortion laws is Chile’s; passed by referendum in 1980 under Pinochet’s dictatorship. It is also interesting to note that many of the African countries mentioned, like Ireland, inherited their abortion law from the British in 1861. Abortion is tied up in postcolonialism, for them as for us.

Often the presence of an abortion provision reflects a religious backlash against what is perceived as unduly permissive abortion law. Zambia’s Constitution, for example, permits the government to legislate for abortion, and abortion is legal on narrow grounds. A new Zambian Constitution passed last year but a proposed constitutional provision – inserting a foetal right to life – has been deferred, pending the achievement of consensus. The new foetal life provision was intended to reflect the ‘Christian values’ underpinning the new Constitution. In Kenya, church leaders demanded a ‘no vote’ to the 2010 Constitution on the basis of its abortion provisions, even though they did not change the content of the pre-existing abortion law at all. Similar pressures succeeded in El Salvador, where in 1999 the Catholic church was a significant force in securing a foetal life amendment to the Constitution against feminist opposition. The involvement of the institutional Catholic church in repressing abortion reform is a theme across Latin America, where hostility to abortion has proved compatible with Leftist as well as with conservative government.

Conclusion

There is surprisingly little comparative work on constitutional abortion provisions. Ireland, however, would do well to pay attention to constitutional abortion provisions as a legal strategy; to ask what they have been used to do elsewhere; and to pass future laws which express, not a faith in Irish exceptionalism, but an awareness of the 8th Amendment’s global resonances. We tend to associate constitutional law with certainty and technicality, but a quick review of the history of constitutional abortion provisions suggests different associations; with stalled law-making, human rights abuse, and sacrifice of women’s interests in the pursuit of shared values.

Why would any country put abortion in the Constitution?

Northern/Ireland After Brexit: Exploring the Human Rights Impact

#BrexitRightsOn Wednesday, May 3 2017 from 1.30pm UCD Centre for Human Rights is hosting a seminar in the Irish Human Rights and Equality Commission (map here) on Northern/Ireland After Brexit: Exploring the Human Rights Impact.
With five speakers engaging with intersections of constitutionalism, gender, human rights and borders,this seminar seeks to reflect on human rights implications of Brexit upon the constitutional settlement(s) on this island.
The full programme, speakers and paper abstracts can be accessed here.
Seminar delegates can register for the conference here (selecting the free of charge option unless CPD is required, for which there is a €60 charge)
Northern/Ireland After Brexit: Exploring the Human Rights Impact

Call for Applications: Challenges to International Criminal Justice Summer Academy Northumbria University, Newcastle 12-16 June 2017

Northumbria Law School is pleased to announce its 1st Summer Academy on Contemporary Challenges to International Criminal Justice(Law & Criminology) will take place in Northumbria University, Newcastle from 12-16 June 2017.

This novel summer academy provides a unique opportunity for participants to acquire in-depth knowledge on the most pressing issues facing the international criminal justice system from the leading scholars and practitioners in the field. Speakers will share their expertise and experience on a varied range of topics to encourage and inspire postgraduate research in law and criminology.

 The themes of the summer academy are:

  • Challenges to international criminal justice and the future of the International Criminal Court
  • Challenges to international cooperation in fighting transnational and international crimes
  • Challenges in prosecuting terrorism and religiously motivated violence
  • Challenges in ensuring effective redress for victims in post-conflict situations
  • Ecocide as a challenge to justice and security
  • Rule of law reform in post conflict countries

The list of distinguished speakers:

Professor William Schabas (Middlesex University/Leiden University)  Judge Howard Morrison (International Criminal Court) Judge Professor Wolfgang Schomburg (International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia 2001-2008, Durham University)  Judge David Baragwanath (Special Tribunal for Lebanon)  Judge Professor Philip Weiner (Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia) Professor Roger S. Clark (Rutgers Law School) Mr Karim A.A. Khan, QC (Temple Garden Chambers, International Defence and Victims Counsel & former Prosecutor) Dr. Rod Rastan (Legal Adviser, Office of the Prosecutor, International Criminal Court)  Professor Tim Wilson (Northumbria University) – Professor Roger Clark (Rutgers Law School)  Dr. Mohamed El Zeidy (Legal Officer, Pre-Trial Chamber II, International Criminal Court) Dr. Tanya Wyatt (Northumbria University) Dr. Noelle Higgins (Maynooth University)  Professor Michael Rowe (Northumbria University)  Mr. Patrick Schneider (EU Office of the Special Representative for Bosnia and Herzegovina) Dr. Michael Kearney (Sussex University)  Mr. Krmanj Othman (KRG High Committee for the Recognition of Genocide against Yezidi Kurds and other minorities) ­ Dr. Patricia Hobbs (Brunel University) – Dr. Hakeem Yusuf (University Birmingham) Dr. Elena Katseli (Newcastle University)  Dr. Jamie Harding (Northumbria University) – Dr. Ibrahim Shaw (Northumbria University)  Professor Nigel South (University of Essex) Dr. Damien Short (University of London) Professor Chrisje Brants (Northumbria University) Professor Liz Campbell (Durham University) – Dr. Mohamed ‘Arafa (Indiana University) – Ms. Gemma Davies (Northumbria University) – Dr. David McGrogan (Northumbria University).

This event is a wonderful opportunity for international lawyers, legal interns, academics, and present and future postgraduate students to meet eminent scholars and practitioners in the field of international criminal justice as well as like-minded colleagues from all over the world.

For further information and to register please visit www.northumbria.ac.uk/about-us/news-events/events/2017/06/northumbria-university-summer-academy-in-contemporary-challenges-to-international-criminal-justice/ or email amina.adanan@northumbria.ac.uk. Participants may register to attend individual sessions or the whole event. Please note that places are limited and the deadline for ‘early bird’ registration is Monday 17 April 2017.

Call for Applications: Challenges to International Criminal Justice Summer Academy Northumbria University, Newcastle 12-16 June 2017

#Strike4Repeal: Strike Against the Citizens’ Assembly?

This International Women’s Day sees women worldwide engaged in strike action. Irish women strike for repeal of the 8th Amendment: the constitutional provision which prohibits abortion except where the pregnant woman’s life is at risk, and the only means of avoiding that risk is to terminate it. But more than that, the law pledges the state to protect the right to life of the ‘unborn’, from the moment of implantation, against the actions of the woman who carries it. In recent years, this law has been used  to delay medical treatment to a woman suffering an inevitable miscarriage at the cost of her life; to keep a woman’s body on life support after brain-death in an attempt to prolong her second trimester pregnancy to viability;  to  forced Caesarean section on a young suicidal rape victim; to deny countless women the right to refuse a wide range of interventions in pregnancy and birth.  

Fearful expulsion is the abortion law’s most ordinary side-effect. Women needing abortions – perhaps a dozen a day – travel abroad, while others perform early medical abortions at home. Irish women save to pay for their own abortions: for travel, accommodation and medical fees. In the time it takes to save, they find that they need more expensive abortions because their pregnancies are further along. The abortion regime also depends on women’s ability to access abortion out of sight; whether by travelling abroad or by procuring one in secret at home. Some solidarity is available for funding, but nobody can buy you time.  On and off the job, abortions mark working time. Women plan abortions for weekends, ‘sick days’, paid and unpaid ‘holidays’. By taking women’s bodies out of the workplace for a day, this strike underscores not only the importance of reproductive labour in general, but these specific relations between work and managing and undoing unwanted pregnancy.

The publicness of this strike is an important counterweight, not only to the secrecy of travel and of home abortion, but to the shaming and silencing on which effective regulation of women’s reproductive lives depends. It makes visible many of the networks of care and solidarity which allow women to survive that silencing and shame. And in a week which saw yet another official ‘rediscovery’ of the recent brutal history of incarceration of unmarried pregnant women in Ireland in institutions which set store by the the terms of women’s assembly in church, in religious parades and in the streets, the importance of this black-clad public assembly, this unexpected return, cannot be overstated.

But Strike for Repeal is also about law-making. The strike is framed as a response to the government’s failure to call a referendum by March 8th. There is clear and growing public demand for liberalisation of the law. Left-wing TDs have repeatedly asked for an immediate response to that demand: not only in the shape of a referendum, but of a softening in the worst effects of the abortion regime, by reducing criminal penalties, regulating exploitative bogus pregnancy counselling and providing some relief for women whose foetuses are diagnosed with fatal foetal anomalies. The government has repeatedly blocked these demands. It installed the Citizens’ Assembly as a precursor to any legislative deliberation on the prospect of constitutional change. The Assembly consists of a judge (an ‘appropriate woman‘) and  99 citizens chosen by a polling company; supposedly representative of the people in terms of gender, age and geography. It is an exercise in ‘deliberative democracy’ designed to produce ‘vital consensus on behalf of us all’. However,  the government has made no firm commitment to implement the Assembly’s recommendation. These  will likely be filtered through further committees. No timeline has been set for proposal of a final reform bill. A popular referendum is not expected until 2018 (coinciding, of course, with a Papal visit). The strike protests delay: the refusal to recognise the abortion issue as urgent. That denial of urgency must be understood in the context of a broader attitude to law-making. The government presents aching slowness and caution as essential to any legal change on abortion  because it is understood as an issue of unique moral weight. The judge-led Assembly embodies a desire to discipline processes of legal change, ensuring an incrementalist approach which is presumptively civilised and civilising, never destabilising, immune to popular politics.

What the government calls disciplined law-making has two characteristics: ‘neutrality’ and ‘balance’. A concern for neutrality ensured that no lawyers who had expressed an opinion on the Irish abortion debate were invited to present to the Assembly, or appointed to the panel of academics which advised the Assembly on the selection of expert speakers. When the Assembly received over 13,000 written submissions, neutrality apparently justified the decision to select 300 at random for the Assembly members to read, without regard for content or repetition. ‘Balance’ means something more than impartiality. Speakers, whether advocates or experts, generally appeared in pairs: pro-choice and pro-life. Balance, then, is always binary. Presentations of the law, interestingly, were not made in pairs. Perhaps, once experts in abortion law had been excluded from Assembly proceedings, no balance was required in this respect. The perceived need to ‘balance’ presentations allowed ample voice for pro-life and conservative religious organisations and speakers, well in excess of their support among the broader population. In the process, it obscured the pluralism of the pro-choice majority. The Assembly heard, not only from pro-life medical ethicists and religious leaders, and Irish conservative organisations, but from prominent American pro-life activists, chosen by Irish organisations to speak in their place. Meanwhile, several Irish pro-choice advocacy groups were excluded, including important representative organisations for women who have had abortions, such as the Abortion Rights Campaign, and Termination for Medical Reasons Ireland. No organisation representing women of colour was invited to speak. When the Assembly heard women’s scheduled direct accounts of abortion, it was not in person, but in the form of short, edited and anonymised audio recordings of interviews with women who had ended pregnancies in a narrow range of circumstances. For ‘balance’, some of these recordings were of women who had not ended their pregnancies.  By adopting ‘neutrality’ and ‘balance’ as lodestones of the process, the Assembly suggests that the statements and presentations made to Assembly members are all equally valid and valuable found objects, which speak for themselves, rather than contested and contestable political artefacts created for and by the Assembly. In particular, non-interventionist neutrality ensures that the Assembly operates without any ‘fact checking’ resources. So, by and large, the members are left to weigh presentations and submissions for themselves, or  rely on other speakers to devote some of their allocated time to correcting misrepresentations. Several members of the Assembly have asked penetrating, and at times critical questions, and recently indicated support or displeasure through spontaneous applause. Some women speaking before the Assembly have also been able to subvert the imposition of particular forms of civility.Watch, for example, the gesture of Sinead Redmond of Parents for Choice giving her testimony with her baby daughter; their own pairing gently provoking conservative conceptions of the incompatibility of motherhood and choice. However, these moments of substantive critical agency  are just that – performative moments – which occur in spite of, rather than because of the formal Assembly process.

It may be that the Citizens’ Assembly process is supposed to reassure women. It is supposed to remind us of the Constitutional Convention, which we are assumed to remember as the liberal pump-primer for Marriage Equality. Watching the Citizens’ Assembly meetings over the last 4 months, I have been reminded of other antecedent processes established to address historical gender-based violence against women – also judge-led; also scrupulously careful to restrict space for women’s direct testimony; also insufficiently critical of narratives that seek to justify and legitimate treatment which women call injury and harm; also designed to settle, neutralise and rebalance women’s claims to reparative and transformative reproductive justice. The Assembly, on this reading, reinforces an expectation that women are not entitled to appear before law on their own terms, even where law is to be applied to the most intimate dimensions of their lives.

Jon Berger wrote that mass demonstrations were not, as is often commonly thought, an attempt to convince the state to change a hated policy. Instead, they artificially created events, separated from everyday life, which ‘express political ambitions before the political means necessary to realise them have been created’. The state’s response to these ambitions does not matter very much. What matters is that those participating, and those sympathetically witnessing the demonstration become more aware of their shared purpose and fate; feel themselves standing together against the state’s projects. Berger argues that demonstrations are ‘rehearsals of revolutionary awareness‘; they may foreshadow revolution, or perhaps revolutionary return of something suppressed. Strike 4 Repeal is a complex movement. In its demand for an immediate referendum, it enacts a struggle for law: it is a necessary agonistic demonstration of appetite for law and law-making processes which are not contained by appeals to balance and neutrality. It is a warning of the impossibility of suppressing women’s diverse and complex demands for legal change and a rejection of past governmental tactics of repression and control. Women gather in black today at 12.30.The recent work of Jesse Jones on gender, reproduction and Irish law references an Italian feminist protest chant which captures the possibilities: “Tremble, tremble, the witches have returned!” 

#Strike4Repeal: Strike Against the Citizens’ Assembly?

Reflections on the Citizen’s Assembly (4): The Presentation of Dr. Dónal O’Mathúna

 

We are pleased to welcome this guest post from Donnchadh O’Conaill, of the Department of Philosophy, History, Culture and Art Studies at the University of Helsinki. This is the fourth of a series of posts Donnchadh is writing on presentations of ethicists to the Citizens Assembly.

In the context of debates about abortion, autonomy is often appealed to by those promoting greater legal access. Those who wish to restrict access to abortion must either argue that autonomy is not as ethically significant as is often assumed, or that in the specific case of abortion the autonomy of pregnant women should be limited. Dr. Dónal O’Mathúna explores each of these lines in his presentation to the Citizen’s Assembly.[1] Continue reading “Reflections on the Citizen’s Assembly (4): The Presentation of Dr. Dónal O’Mathúna”

Reflections on the Citizen’s Assembly (4): The Presentation of Dr. Dónal O’Mathúna

Hague Justice Journal: Call for Papers

The Hague Justice Journal First Edition in Association with the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia launches its call for submissions

The editorial board of The Hague Justice Journal (HJJ) is delighted to announce that it is soliciting submissions for its 2017 volume relating to the ICTY’s legacy in this its final year of operations. Such submissions will include selected papers from the ICTY Legacy Conference due to be held from 23-24 June 2017 in Sarajevo, Bosnia, and will be published in Autumn 2017. The HJJ undertakes this endeavor in formal cooperation with the ICTY, in line with a number of legacy-related activities being organized in 2017 by the ICTY and by the Peace, Justice and Security Foundation. Continue reading “Hague Justice Journal: Call for Papers”

Hague Justice Journal: Call for Papers

Reflections on the Citizen’s Assembly (3): The Presentation of Dr. Joan McCarthy

We are pleased to welcome this guest post from Donnchadh O’Conaill, of the Department of Philosophy, History, Culture and Art Studies at the University of Helsinki. This is the third of a series of posts Donnchadh is writing on presentations of ethicists to the Citizens Assembly; the first can be found here, and the second here

While debates over the status of the foetus are central to ethical and philosophical discussions of abortion, the freedom of women to choose to have abortions is crucial to political debates on this subject. Dr. Joan McCarthy presented a defence of this freedom, taking as her starting point “the body and the life of the woman or girl who is pregnant”, considered as a moral agent, i.e., as making ethical choices in concrete situations.[1] In assessing the choices such women face, McCarthy draws on two principles: autonomy and justice. Continue reading “Reflections on the Citizen’s Assembly (3): The Presentation of Dr. Joan McCarthy”

Reflections on the Citizen’s Assembly (3): The Presentation of Dr. Joan McCarthy

Reflections on the Citizens Assembly (2): The Presentation of Bobbie Farsides

We are pleased to welcome this guest post from Donnchadh O’Conaill, of the Department of Philosophy, History, Culture and Art Studies at the University of Helsinki. This is the second of a series of posts Donnchadh is writing on presentations of ethicists to the Citizens Assembly; the first can be found here.

Debates about abortion can often be traced back to disagreements about the status of the foetus, e.g., whether it is a being with any independent moral significance. All parties to this disagreement share two assumptions: that ethical debates over abortion are primarily a matter of the moral importance of the foetus, and that the nature of the foetus is what determines its moral status. Hence many opponents of abortion will appeal to the fact that the foetus is a human being, e.g. it has a soul or has the potential to become a rational being; many proponents of liberal abortion laws will counter that the foetus, at least early in its development, lacks certain capacities which are crucial to having moral status.[1] The arguments here are often complex and involve subtle points of metaphysics which are not easy to resolve. More generally, regardless of what one thinks about these issues, it might seem that such esoteric matters are not appropriate as a basis for legislation.

In her submission to the Citizen’s Assembly, Prof. Bobbie Farsides outlines an alternative approach: a way of justifying a pro-choice regime which seeks to avoid disputes about the nature or moral status of the foetus.[2] Continue reading “Reflections on the Citizens Assembly (2): The Presentation of Bobbie Farsides”

Reflections on the Citizens Assembly (2): The Presentation of Bobbie Farsides

Languishing in Direct Provision: Rights in ‘Reasonable’ and ‘Unreasonable’ Times

imagesThe length of time that asylum seekers reside within direct provision accommodation, continues to cause significant concern, as it has done so for almost seventeen years.  The practical impact of the implementation of the limited recommendations contained within the  McMahon Report still remains to be fully seen. The Minister for Justice and Equality has stated that 80% of all recommendations made by the McMahon Report are implemented or are being implemented. However, this claim has not to date been backed up with comprehensive assessment from the Department of Justice.  The commencement of the International Protection Act 2015 on 31 December 2016, will hopefully ensure that persons in the protection system receive a fair, procedurally proper and clear decisions on whether they qualify for protection in a timely manner. However, as noted by David Costello, Chief International Protection Officer at a seminar last week, there are 4,000 cases to hand in the International Protection Office (IPO) due to the commencement of the International Protection Act. [With thanks to Fiona Finn, CEO of NASC for making me aware of this]. Oldest cases will be decided first. Those already with a negative determination of refugee status by the now abolished Office of the Refugee Applications Commissioner under the old law, will return to the IPO for determination of their subsidiary protection claim. If subsidiary protection is rejected by the IPO decision maker, then both refugee and subsidiary protection appeals will be considered by the International Protection Appeals Tribunal. Whether this impacts slightly or majorly on timely and fair delivery of protection decisions remains to be seen. A case decided last week may have significant impacts on the right to a timely decision on a protection claim. Continue reading “Languishing in Direct Provision: Rights in ‘Reasonable’ and ‘Unreasonable’ Times”

Languishing in Direct Provision: Rights in ‘Reasonable’ and ‘Unreasonable’ Times

The Story of King Tex: A Modern Allegory

We are pleased to welcome this guest post from Dr Dug Cubie, UCC. In it, he reworks Fuller’s Story of King Rex for contemporary times.

In Lon Fuller’s 1969 book The Morality of Law, Fuller set out the story of King Rex as a cautionary tale of the need for clarity, consistency and predictability within legal systems. Profoundly influenced by the horrors of the 20th Century, in particular the Nazi regime in Germany and the Stalinist regime in the USSR, Fuller desired to establish certain benchmarks for legal systems based on his view of the “inner morality of the law.” Fuller argued that the inner morality of a legal system was based first on the morality of duty (the duty to provide basic rules for the ordering of society) and then the morality of aspiration (the aspiration of excellence within a legal system). Surprisingly little of Lon Fuller’s account of King Rex needs to be changed to fairly accurately reflect the start of President Trump’s administration…

So, as Fuller might have written: This story concerns the unhappy reign of a monarch who bore the convenient, but not very imaginative and not even very regal sounding name of Tex. Continue reading “The Story of King Tex: A Modern Allegory”

The Story of King Tex: A Modern Allegory