James Edwards

According to the motivational thesis (MT), we are justified in performing an action if and only if we perform that action for the right reason(s). Proponents of MT disagree about how it is best interpreted—about what count as reasons of the right kind. In Fundamentals of Criminal Law, Andrew Simester criticises an interpretation offered by John Gardner. Here, I explore some of Simester's reasons for objecting to that interpretation, and I argue—partly on the basis of those same reasons—that Simester's own interpretation of MT should be revised. I conclude with a preliminary defence of an alternative interpretation, which I call the tripartite view of justification.

According to the motivational thesis (MT), we are justified in performing an action if and only if we perform that action for the right reason(s). Proponents of MT disagree about how it is best interpreted—about what count as reasons of the right kind. In _Fundamentals of Criminal Law_, Andrew Simester criticises an interpretation offered by John Gardner. Here, I explore some of Simester's reasons for objecting to that interpretation, and I argue—partly on the basis of those same reasons—that Simester's own interpretation of MT should be revised. I conclude with a preliminary defence of an alternative interpretation, which I call the tripartite view of justification.

This paper responds to Antje du-Bois Pedain’s discussion of the wrongfulness constraint on the criminal law. Du-Bois Pedain argues that the constraint is best interpreted as stating that φing is legitimately criminalised only if φing is wrongful for other-regarding reasons. We take issue with du-Bois Pedain’s arguments. In our view, it is neither a necessary nor sufficient condition of legitimate criminalisation that φing is wrongful in du-Bois Pedain’s sense. Rather, it is a necessary condition of legitimate criminalisation that φing is what we call bare wrongful —that is, that the reasons in favour of φing are defeated by the reasons against. Though du-Bois Pedain is critical of this view, we argue that her criticisms do not convince

Our paper has three parts. In Part 1, we discuss John Gardner’s thesis that the non-elliptical ascription of agency to law is a necessary and irreducible part of any adequate explanation of the activities of legal officials. We consider three explananda which might conceivably necessitate this ascription, and conclude that none in fact does so. In Part 2, we discuss two other theses of Gardner’s: that it makes no sense to ascribe to law the claim that there are legal obligations, and that law’s claim is the claim that there are moral obligations. We take issue with Gardner’s arguments for, and suggest that is unwarranted in the absence of an argument that law makes any claims at all. In Part 3, we briefly argue that, insofar as it issues requirements, there are certain claims that law cannot but make. We conclude that if Gardner is right that law’s claims are those of certain of its officials, it is law-making and not law-applying officials who make law’s claim.

More than 50 years after it was first published, The Concept of Law remains the most important work of legal philosophy in the English-speaking world. In this volume, written for both students and specialists, 13 leading scholars look afresh at Hart's great book. Unique in format, the volume proceeds sequentially through all the main ideas in The Concept of Law: each contributor addresses a single chapter of Hart's book, critically discussing its arguments in light of subsequent developments in the field. Four concluding essays assess the continued relevance for jurisprudence of the 'persistent questions' identified by Hart at the beginning of The Concept of Law. The collection also includes Hart's 'Answers to Eight Questions', written in 1988 and never before published in English. Contributors include Timothy Endicott, Richard HS Tur, Pavlos Eleftheriadis, John Gardner, Grant Lamond, Nicos Stavropoulos, Leslie Green, John Tasioulas, Jeremy Waldron, John Finnis, Frederick Schauer, Pierluigi Chiassoni and Nicola Lacey.

Criminal laws are created to achieve various ends. These include reducing the incidence of wrongdoing, and holding wrongdoers responsible for their wrongs. Some criminal laws are created to further the first of these ends by means of compliance. The second end is to be furthered only if, regrettably, some fail to comply. These criminal laws are made to be followed. Other criminal laws are not created with compliance in mind. Conviction, in these cases, is no regrettable fallback. It is the primary means by which the law is to contribute to ends and. Laws of this second kind are made to be broken. My concern in this paper is with the creation of such laws. Section 1 sharpens the contrast drawn above, and considers some arguments for enacting laws that are made to be broken. The following sections develop an argument against. Section 2 introduces what I call the identification principle. It argues that the principle is an implication of the ideal of the rule of law, and that it binds state officials who make, apply and enforce criminal laws. Section 3 argues that when laws are made to be broken, the identification principle is violated. Section 4 concludes.

ABSTRACTCriminal law confers powers and grants permissions. In doing so it does not treat all alike. Some state officials are given powers and permissions that are much more extensive than those given to private persons. As a result, steps taken to achieve criminal justice are often serious crimes if taken by members of the latter group, while being perfectly lawful when taken by members of the former. My question here is what justifies this asymmetry. I consider two candidate explanations. One appeals to impossibility. Another appeals to efficiency. While explanations of the first kind have become increasingly popular, I offer some reasons to doubt that they succeed. I conclude with a preliminary defence of a view that appeals to efficiency.

Much time has been spent arguing about the soundness of But in the philosophical literature there is no single such principle; there are many harm principles. And many objections pressed against are objections to only some of these principles. The first half of this paper draws a number of distinctions between harm principles. It then argues that each harm principle is compatible with many other principles that impose limits on the law, including but not limited to other harm principles. The second half of the paper applies the lessons of the first to a number of prominent objections to That principle has been accused of a) being underinclusive; b) misrepresenting the reasons why many act-types ought to be legally proscribed; c) permitting lawmakers to treat people as mere means of achieving their ends; and d) being overinclusive. The paper argues that one harm principle survives all four objections

This paper addresses three doctrinal phenomena of which it finds evidence in English law: the quiet extension of the criminal law so as to criminalise that which is by no means an obvious offence; the creation of offences the goal of which is not to guide potential offenders away from crime; and the existence of offending behaviour which is not itself thought to justify arrest or prosecution. While such phenomena have already been criticised by other criminal law theorists, this paper offers a critique to which little attention has yet been paid. It argues that the existence of these phenomena has been concealed from public view: that the organs of state have encouraged the belief that they are no part of English law. The paper then argues that it is high time the state came clean. The state owes its people answers for the imposition of the criminal law: it must account for the creation and enforcement of any given criminal offence. When the state misleads its people about the criminal law’s scope, goals and enforcement, it refuses to provide those people with the answers they are owed.

The character of contemporary criminal law is changing. This article examines one aspect of that change: a type of criminal offence which, it is argued, effectively ousts the criminal courts. These ‘ouster offences’ are first distinguished from more conventional offences by virtue of their distinctive structure. The article then argues that to create an ouster offence is to oust the criminal courts by depriving them of the ability to adjudicate on whatever wrongdoing the offence-creator takes to justify prosecuting potential defendants. The article further argues that creating such an ouster is objectionable on a number of grounds. It deprives the courts of the ability to adjudicate independently, and undermines their ability to deliver procedural justice in both pure and imperfect form. While the ouster in question is by no means express, the article argues that it is nonetheless of the first importance