The Politics of Law
The Politics of Law
The Politics of Law
Professed Socialists are also a very mixed lot, and if joining them meant
inviting them indiscriminately to tea I should strongly advise you not to do it,
as they are just like other people, which means that some of them steal spoons
when they get the chance (Shaw 1982:122).
I
Introduction
These books are important attempts by an assortment of radical scholars to
address many of the questions that have for some considerable time dogged what
might be termed traditional legal theory. This terrain has in the past been given scant
attention by progressives and it might be worth exploring some of the reasons why
this has been the case as a prelude to assessing the overall value of these particular
contributions. Historically, one undoubted factor has been the economistic
tendencies of much Marxist and Marxist-influenced scholarship. This has led to the
primary focus of analytical attention being directed to the economic infrastructure
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II
The Politics of Law: Introduction
The Politics of Law edited by David Kairys is a collection of essays (some being
no more than notes) from a radical perspective on American legal theory and
practice. The book bears witness to the vibrant Conference for Critical Legal Studies
in the US and this collection is very much a Critical Legal Studies reader. The essays
themselves are divided into three groups. The first deals with legal theory, in
particular those decisive philosophies that have underpinned the study of law
since the early Republic. The second focusses on substantive fields of law and
finally, iconoclasm completed, a range of alternative progressive approaches are
advanced. As the blurb emphasises, the overall strategy of The Politics of Law is
to lay[ ] bare the conflicts and power struggles that form the bones and sinew of
the august body of American law. Consequently much attention is directed at the
legitimating and obfuscatory function of liberal legalism. Perhaps the most
remarkable thing about the emergence of the Conference for Critical Legal Studies
is that at a time when American institutions generally have been moving to the right,
it has represented a sharp lurch to the left in what has, traditionally, been a
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conspicuously conservative domain, the law school. The measure of this lurch can
be seen by examining the various theories contained in this generally representative
collection.
Kelmans review of radical criminology is much more searching. One cannot but
agree with his identification of the major flaw in the critical approaches of the last
two decades: the tendency to romanticise deviants, to see them as in some way
expressing an inchoate insurrection against the injustices of the status quo. This
approach, as Kelman rightly adds, ignores the obvious fact that it is most commonly
the victims of that status quo who, in turn, become the victims of this insurrection,
particularly in the case of street crime, property offences and violence. He
continues:
[f]or critical theorists to minimise the centrality of the experience of terror and
victimisation a far more overt feeling of impotence than most people feel
in any other social setting, including hierarchical and dominating work
relations seems both politically inept and counterfactual (p 223).
It is precisely the abstentionist politics of such a position that has allowed the Rights
Law and Order campaign to gain increasing popular credibility over the last few
years.
The importance of this point is strengthened by a proposal that radical research
should be directed to the specific features of marginalised groups, and the particular
social and historical contexts within which the process of marginalisation takes
148 Australian Journal of Law and Society Vol. 2 No. 1
place. The advantage here is that it breaks with the unilinear, simplistic thesis that
crime is caused by capitalism, and that therefore by implication, the solution to the
problem of crime is the dismantling of this economic form. What follows from his
position is a different political strategy whereby progressive politics are addressed
to concrete areas of reform as an interim step toward a socialist crime policy.
Unfortunately, Kelman, as so many others in the book, does not venture into this
area. It is a weakness with the collection as a whole, a point which will be discussed
in more detail later.
Having rightly criticised the romanticist approach to crime, however, he
proceeds to distance himself from right-wing attacks on criminality by suggesting
(implausibly) that the world is not unambiguously worse for their [criminals]
presence (pp 226-7), and that the benign aspects of the welfare state are, in
significant part, responsive to fears of violence and takings (/<i). It is difficult to
see in the history of the welfare state any significant development resulting from the
incidence of intra-working class crime. Indeed, borrowing Richard Abels point that
we do not subject those we love to danger and compensate them later, but rather
take preventive action (p 198), even if welfare state advances could be attributed to
the victimisation of the poorer sections of society, it would be hard to see it being
any more benign than traditional prevention and deterrence crime-control
techniques.
William Chambliss contribution, Toward a Radical Criminology, begins with
a useful general history of the emergence in the US of radical criminology and it is
hard to disagree with his central point that it is the questions we ask that determine
the value of the answers we come up with, in criminology as elsewhere. Our
research, therefore, he suggests, should focus on the contradictions inherent in the
state rather than trying to explain why particular individuals commit crimes. One
reason given for the unimportance of the latter activity is the foolhardiness of trying
to defend radical criminology from its critics charge that it fails to offer any
adequate explanations of crime. Chambliss adds that [j]udged by the standard of
producing valid generalisations that meet even minimal scientific requirements, all
social science is a failure (p 236). This proposition would appear to introduce an
unfortunate relativism into criminological theory. After all, if no theories are
scientifically adequate, how can we, or why should we, rationally choose one in
preference to another? Chambliss here seems to be confusing the minimum
requirements for an adequate social science with those necessary for natural science.
If radical theories do not square better with the former than their liberal or
reactionary counterparts then radicals will be hard put to argue against a
criminological pluralism since all are equally rational or irrational. Surely, it is the
explanatory adequacy of any theory that is the test of its strength. Radical
criminology, therefore, must establish its legitimacy in this respect.
Chambliss specific proposals are directed at focussing away from individuals and
looking at the contradictory nature of the state. As a general watchword against the
functionalism of much radical theory this is fine, but it is left undeveloped. He adds
that [w]e cannot reasonably assume that there is a discoverable difference between
those who commit crime and those who do not (p 236). This, however, amounts
to dodging the difficult questions concerning what to do about various forms of
harmful social behaviour that occur now. If the contradictions of the state are to
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be the overriding concern of radical criminology, then all political praxis must be
directed to them. As Kelman and Rudovsky later affirm, this implicitly involves
political abstentionism in respect of, for example, violent street crime. A politically
effective left strategy on crime, therefore, must develop a more sophisticated
typology of preventable social harm. In particular, this might lead to examining the
issue of what an effective progressive policing policy might be. Socialists cannot
afford to duck these difficult questions without being condemned to irrelevancy.
This is, perhaps, the most glaring weakness of the book. Consistently, the savage
indictments of the status quo are followed, if at all, by the loosest and vaguest
proposals for change. Thus Rudovskys suggestion that the police do have a
legitimate role to play in enforcing societys equitable norms (p 245) is given no
supplementary specification. In Diane Polans essay, Toward a Theory of Law and
Patriarchy, it is suggested that since the whole structure of law is steeped in
patriarchal values and priorities, any arguments cast in legal terms, even terms of
equality, implicitly legitimate that oppressive structure. The question the reader is
then faced with is: whats the alternative?. Struggles by feminists over equal pay,
anti-discrimination, child-care and so on seem, on this analysis, to have achieved
nothing beyond buttressing male domination. As one reviewer has pointedly
remarked, this position implies that [t]he only assurance a political actress can
have is that she will be doing the wrong thing whatever she does (Levinson
1983:1476).
One of the most stimulating pieces in the book is by Morton Horwitz on
causation. As any student of tort or crime will know, the range of conflicting
metaphors judicially employed to identify a particular sequence of events as causally
linked would do credit to Shakespeare. Horwitz traces the philosophical roots of the
controversy in the latter part of the nineteenth century. Causation has, from the
time of Hume, always been a problem for empiricists. Limited to empirically
observable events, the scientist cannot see causes, only constant conjunctions of
events. This position, as Horwitz points out, was refined by John Stuart Mill and
then applied to legal doctrine by the treatise writer Nicholas St John Green. Mill,
in true empiricist style, suggested that one cannot separate one set of events as
causally relevant and then categorise the rest as superfluous: events do not arrange
themselves so neatly. This argument led directly to determinism. This, combined
with a positivist view of social science (namely, that the techniques of natural science
are essential for adequate explanation of the social world), and a push to transform
law into a science, led inevitably to the impossibility of identifying individual legal
responsibility. At the time, tort law was cast overwhelmingly in the individual
responsibility/fault mode and it was hardly surprising that Mills theories provoked
prodigious, collective resistance. By way of example, Horwitz cites one treatise
writer Francis Whartons horrified discovery of the practical communism which
this theory of the causal character of all antecedents promotes (p 205).
The response might seem somewhat exaggerated. Despite Mills ambivalent
attitude to socialism, he can hardly be seen as having been a harbinger of proletarian
emancipation. But his theories do radically undermine the notion that it is possible
to separate analytically proximate from remote causes of harm. Implicitly,
therefore, the obvious direction for tort law was one of collective responsibility for
harm. This was totally at odds with laissez-faire, as Wharton insisted. The
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important lessons which Horwitz draws from the episode is how the legal principle
of objective causation effectively operated to subvert any redistributive functions
that tort law might be seen to have. In so doing nineteenth century tort preserved
its purely private law character: its individualism was premised on the protection of
what was considered to be parties pre-existing rights rather than on a more general
public policy. It is unfortunate that this contribution is so short. It raises a number
of crucially important issues, in particular the continued breakdown of the
boundary between public and private law and the scientisation of judicial technique
in the nineteenth century. Of course one cannot blame Horwitz for narrowing his
focus to one aspect of the doctrinal and philosophical debate, but this again must
raise the question of the wisdom of the overall plan behind the collection which
required the jamming of so many small sardines into what is after all a fairly sizeable
tin.
This criticism, however, should not obscure the fact that there are some excellent
pieces here notwithstanding restraints of space. Richard Abels section on torts
combines a density of analysis with a number of valuable suggestions for a
progressive reform of civil liability. Tort law is seen to express all the significant
values which capitalism enshrines: commodification of every aspect of life;
differential standards of protection for different classes of victims; and systematic
encouragement of unsafety due to the pursuit of profit in a competitive market. In
other words tort proclaims that you are what you own, what you earn and what
you do (p 195). Unlike Kelman, above, Abel addresses seriously the economic
approach to tort and while emphasising that a truly socialist approach to tort would
involve massive relocation of risk (eg rotation of work) as well as ownership (eg
worker control), proposes a progressive interim strategy. Importantly, he avoids the
pitfalls faced by some left-inspired reforms which concede too much to the system
they are trying to transform, such as recent suggestions in New South Wales on the
proposed no-fault compensation scheme which urge retention of the regime of
common law rights almost on the basis of a socialist utilitarianism (the greatest
happiness of the greatest number of workers), happiness being computed in purely
financial terms (see Tubbs 1983). As Abel urges, support for comprehensive no-fault
compensation schemes is the right choice on grounds of both equity and political
tactics. The paramount criterion for a just compensation scheme should be equality
... [T]hose who suffer from tort, unavoidable accident, illness, and congenital
disability should be treated alike. Inequalities of wealth and income should not be
reproduced in the level of compensation, for this would maintain those inequalities
materially and reaffirm them symbolically (p 198).
Crucially, Abel is here linking a contemporary political strategy to the values that
would underpin a future socialist legality. In this respect his article is one of the
exceptions in this collection, since the role of law in a socialist society is a topic
dodged by most contributors. Yet, as Perry Anderson has urged in a recent
collection of lectures, socialist ideas can only become the common sense of the age
if people are given some concrete outline of what rights and obligations would
pertain in a socialist system:
No working class or popular bloc in a Western Society will ever make a leap
in the dark, at this point in history, let alone into the grey on grey of an
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Eastern society of the type that exists today. A socialism that remains
incognito will never be embraced by it (Anderson 1983:99).
III
The Left and Rights: The Issues
The parameters of the debate addressed by Tom Campbell in his preface to The
Left and Rights are essentially threefold: first the dogmatism of linguistic
philosophy; second some common prejudices against the concept of socialist
rights; third, the constructive project of establishing a shared conceptual base for
fruitful dialogue between theorists of the political Left and Right. The text as a
whole can therefore been seen as an attempt at intellectual detente. A central theme
of the book is a rejection of the assertions of dogmatic linguistic philosophers
who, for Campbell have arrogated to themselves an absolute, correct definition
of rights at the expense of all others. Campbells strategy, however, is not to attack
the dogma of linguistic philosophy itself (which he is generally rather vague about)
but, rather, to examine a number of competing definitions and opt for one which
in form and content approximates to the character that rights would assume in a
socialist society. This section of his book will be examined in more detail below.
Campbells argument takes on two other adversaries as well, namely, the
revolutionary socialist and the right-wing liberal theorists. The latter are
characterised by their rejection of all legal rights informed by the principles of need
and redistribution on the ground that they are ultimately subversive of traditional
civil liberties. This position is addressed intermittently and insubstantially in the
text, for Campbells main concern is the family quarrel within socialism between
reformists and revolutionaries. Campbell sees the revolutionary socialist as
one for whom the whole notion of rights is incurably bourgeois ... Under
socialism all will work together spontaneously in a willing spirit of co-operation
unencumbered by restrictive regulations and the self-interested competitivism in
which the language of rights is rooted (p 5). Campbell locates himself within the
reformist socialist camp, which he sees as distinguished by an outlook that while
admitting the relative and inadequate nature of bourgeois rights, seek[s] to salvage
something of lasting value from the traditional concept of rights (p 3). It is to this
family quarrel within socialism that his primary attention is given. The
repudiation of the main elements of the revolutionary criticisms is the launching pad
for the first five chapters of the book and as this forms the basis for the elucidation
of the essential rights of a socialist society, it is worth spelling out in some detail.
idea that the concept of rights is anything other than historically and socially
determined. Thus, he argues, the individualism of rights only makes sense in an
individualist culture, in particular, a capitalist society where individual autonomy
is paramount. The assumptions of traditional jurisprudence are undermined in that
a socialist society would not be constituted by a network of competing egoistically-
minded individual bearers of rights. Such a conception of rights derives, as
Campbell sees it, from two basically flawed theories, namely, contract and
power theories of rights. After rebutting these bourgeois approaches,
Campbell concludes convincingly that the proper target of the socialist onslaught
on individualism is not the institution of rights as such but the prior assumption that
human nature is irredeemably egoistic (p 101).
Much the same approach is directed against the notion that rights necessarily
involve coercion. Campbell here addresses himself to the arguments of two major
figures in the pantheon of twentieth century jurisprudes, Hans Kelsen and H.L.A.
Hart. His analysis of Kelsen is detailed and perceptive (pp 65-76) identifying,
crucially, Kelsens essentially Hobbesian project of insisting that law ought to be
obeyed if it is a valid law. Validity is in turn seen as a function of effectiveness;
and effectiveness is established if and only if a substantial section of the community
support it. This, of course, is to collapse the technical question (validity) into the
sociological question (effectiveness). Further, the result of this exercise is to assert
that we ought (in a moral sense) to obey a valid law, if others do. In other words
conformity becomes a moral imperative. Campbell subverts this form of reasoning
by separating the sociological question from the technical question concluding that,
sociologically, socialists maintain that a generally non-coercive society can emerge
which undermines the positivists claim in the analytical connection between law and
coercion.
Campbells rejection of Hart is much less persuasive. Quite apart from the
obvious objection that Campbell is operating with a rather utopian conception of
socialism here (as in many other parts of the text) he nonetheless misses the further
point that Harts minimum content of natural law is squarely contrary to
Campbells rights respecting the interests and concerns of human beings. Further
one would have expected Campbells socialist leanings to challenge Harts
characterisation of officialdom as bound together by a critical and reflective
attitude (Hart 1961:113). Clearly, an ethos committed to the implementation of
rules of any legal system (used as autonomous standards of behaviour) is quite
antithetical to the normative structure of a socialist society.
This point is particularly relevant to the final revolutionary critique of rights
that they are inherently legalistic. This critique is dismissed on the basis that legalism
does not merely mean that rule-following is an end in itself. For Campbell it remains
that rule-following may achieve other socially desirable ends therefore societal rules
(and therefore rights) can be socialistically proper. Thus the beneficial, instrumental
purposes to which rules can be put rescues them from the taint of mere
proceduralism. These benefits specifically are: organisational capacity, rules being
necessary to ensure that large-scale units operate effectively; redistribution, for rules
are seen to further this aim also; and, finally, social control. To counter the
objection about the obvious coerciveness of control Campbell insists that this
would not be coercion in the usual sense of the term but uncoercive mutual
156 Australian Journal of Law and Society Vol 2 No. 1
he goes one further than most of the writers in The Politics of Law.
There are, however, some references in these latter chapters which might jar with
many socialists. Phrases like welfare rights directing the actions of those with
command over economic and human resources and officials will have role-based
rights to require others to act (p 80) and [t]he chief purpose of societal rules ...
will be within the normal administrative arrangement of whatever institutional
arrangements were thought necessary to organise communal life ... coupled with
a measure of large-scale co-ordination is required if modern productive systems are
to be adequate for human needs (id) evoke centralised planning and
bureaucratisation on a large scale. This, of course, is incompatible with a society
premised on the principle of maximum popular self-governance. Given that
Campbell refers in a very general way at many points in the text to democratic
socialism, a discussion of this issue would have enriched the general argument, as
well as indicating Campbells attentiveness to the problems of bureaucracy which
continue to plague contemporary socialist societies.
IV
Conclusion
The fruitful dialogue which Campbell wishes to initiate has been characterised
by one reviewer as an essay in political naivety (Eccleshall 1983). If by this term is
envisaged a sober dispassionate exchange which will eventuate in the forces of
conservatism being blinded by the light of progressive social theorising the charge
is justified. However, it seems clear that this is not what the author is getting at.
Rather, as his attack on the revolutionary socialist position makes clear, the gist
of his argument is that socialists have no good reason to see debate on the terrain
of jurisprudence as some form of theoretical revisionism. On the contrary, a
consistently abstentionist position (essentially the state of affairs until quite recently)
has given the stage to more conservative theorists. The book, therefore, does
provide cogent advice on this score, and to the extent that it addresses critically and
articulately many of the major traditional arguments in this area is a timely
intervention.
Indeed, both books are effective attempts to subject a range of different domains
of traditional legal scholarship to radical scrutiny. As such they directly and
emphatically refute Eugene Kamenkas recent suggestions that [a]ll Marxists have
remained intellectually reductionist (Kamenka 1983:53), that they deny that legal
history is simply social, or political or economic history (id 46) and that
sophisticated radical legal theory effectively ended with Renner and Pashukanis. On
the contrary, a whole gamut of Marxist and feminist approaches is in evidence here,
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many, though not all, displaying a keen awareness of the specifity of law. In particular,
concrete analyses of contract law, welfare rights and anti-discrimination legislation in
The Politics of Law are supplemented and enhanced by Campbells wide-ranging
discussion of jurisprudential debate in The Left and Rights. There is, however, one
uniting flaw, all-too-fitfully overcome: the reluctance to address the problem of
transition. To a large extent this derives from excessive and exclusive dependence
on the two polar co-ordinates of socialist theory: utopianism on the one hand and
scientific historical materialism on the other. For the former a soft focus on the
future has tended to displace the development of strategies based on the here and
now. For the latter, the expatiation of the particular laws of motion of present and
past societies in turn has tended to oust consideration of the precise forms of
possible socialist institutions. Both elements are captured in the well-worn (if not
thread-bare) promise that socialism will involve the replacement of the government
of men by the administration of things. But as a recent review in this journal
emphasised, socialism should be seen as a process beginning now rather than some
sort of deus ex machina magically appearing in the future, and that [o]ur politics
and analysis need to not only inform some general vision of the future but also be
constructed around and inform responses in the particular instance and reform in
the day-to-day sense (Hogg 1983:128). In this respect both books exhibit
significant shortcomings. Campbells regular reference to a non-coercive
community of brothers [sic] lacks any specification as to how we might get there.
The Politics of Law with its repeated and vituperative denunciation of what is
contains but a few allusions as to what might be, and how. A utopian discourse is
a prerequisite for transcending a narrow bureaucratic reformism but
[a] shift from the axis of values to that of institutions, in projections of a
socialist or communist future, has been much needed, and must bring with it
a new sense of practical complexities. But that shift does not in itself represent
a move out of the utopian space as such, so long as it is dissociated from any
plausible analysis of the historical processes capable of realising values or
institutions alike (Anderson 1983:104).
The critiques advanced in these books provide at least the crucial first step, and
constitute a valuable springboard for the project Anderson advocates. The next
necessary phase for critical legal scholarship is to develop those hinted-at practical
complexities. Whereof one would insinuate thereof one should speak.
Brendan Edgeworth
Endnotes
1. 118 U.S. 394 (1886).
2. 424 U.S. 1 (1976).
3. See, for example, Gramsci (1971) and Hunt (1980).
References
Anderson, Perry In the Tracks of Historical Materialism (1983) London, Verso.
Bhaskar, Roy The Possiblity of Naturalism (1979) Sussex, Harvester Press.
Eccleshall, Bob Book Review (1983) 35 Radical Philosophy 36.
Graham, Keith J.L. Austin: A Critique of Ordinary Language Philosophy (1977) Sussex, Harvester.
Gramsci, Antonio Prison Notebooks (trans. Quintin Hoare and Geoffrey Nowell-Smith) (1971) New
York, International.
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