Malcolm Thorburn

Criminal law theory made a significant advance roughly thirty years ago when George Fletcher popularized the important conceptual distinction between justifications and excuses. In the intervening years, however, very little progress has been made in exploring the structure and function of justification defenses. The reason for this failure, I suggest, is a widely shared misconception about their place within the criminal law’s institutional structure. Contrary to what is generally believed, it is not up to trial courts to decide ex post facto what conduct is justified and what is not. This determination is made ex ante by other institutional actors such as private fiduciaries, public officials, and sometimes, ordinary citizens caught in extraordinary circumstances. The court’s role is simply to review the validity of that prior exercise of decision-making discretion. More broadly, my study is intended to serve as a reminder of the importance of institutional structure in criminal law. It is almost always misleading to address issues in criminal law by way of abstract moral theorizing, as is often done, because this leaves out the crucial question of institutional division of labor. Before addressing the substantive aspect of particular questions—what conduct should be prohibited, justified, or excused—we must first address ourselves to the institutional questions that I have called the problems of authority, discretion, and legality. These institutional questions receive their most thorough treatment in two other areas of law: the private law of fiduciaries and public administrative law. If we wish to make progress in understanding justification defenses—and the institutional structure of criminal law more generally—I argue that it is to these areas of law that we should attend.

In this paper, I argue that policing can be defended as consistent with the equality of all before the law – but not by denying that policing occupies a special place in our legal order that is dangerously close to certain ancien régime privileges. In order to defend the special privileges of policing, it is essential to show that they are something quite different from the ancien régime privileges that they in some respects resemble. The crucial conceptual tool for making that argument is the idea of public office. Policing, I argue, is a public office and like other public offices, it comes equipped with a number of special rights, privileges, powers, and immunities that are not generally possessed by all persons in their private capacity. But that situation is no challenge to the equality of all persons before the law. Those special rights do not belong to the office-holder as their private property, to do with them just as they would like. They belong, instead, to the office itself, and they may be exercised only by someone duly appointed to the office (who may also be duly removed from office) and only in pursuit of the purposes that define her office. The idea of public office is what makes possible a necessary and acceptable kind of inequality – that between individual private persons on the one hand and the collective person of the state on the other – while maintaining the kind of equality that matters, which is the equality of all persons vis-à-vis one another.

This article raises a principled objection to the privatization of certain core police services. Whereas most of the literature critical of privatizing security services has focused on the negative consequences of doing so (corruption, waste, etc.), the argument here focuses squarely on the standing of private parties to perform police services. According to an important strain of liberal political theory, certain tasks are assigned to the state not because it is deemed to be more efficient at delivering those services but simply because such services must be rendered by a party that acts in the name of the polity as a whole and not in the name of some narrower private interest. The author argues that all those policing functions – such as arrest, search, and detention – that require criminal law justification (because they involve conduct on the part of officers that is generally criminally prohibited) are of this nature. The article also summarizes the different dimensions of the larger privatization debate and traces the development of the debate about legitimate policing in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.

This paper, originally written for a conference on criminal law in times of emergency, considers the implications of the ‘German Airliner case’ for criminal law theory. In that case, the German constitutional court struck down as unconstitutional a law empowering state officials to order the shooting down of a hijacked plane on the grounds that the state could not order the killing of innocent civilians. Some have argued that despite this ruling, individual officials should still be entitled to claim a criminal law justification defence. I argue that the nature of justification defences necessarily ties them to the powers of the state to engage in such activity. I also argue that both the constitutional decision and its criminal law implications are salutary.

Criminal justice is much more deeply connected to the very possibility of state authority than is usually understood. In this article, I argue that, whatever else criminal justice might accomplish, there is one task that it must accomplish. This, I argue, is because a certain idea of criminal justice is built into the very idea of state authority as we know it. It is just part of the idea of individuals having a private right, I argue, that there exists a legal mechanism for vindicating those rights when violated. Similarly, I argue, it is just part of the idea of the state having an exclusive right to set the terms of our association that there exists a legal mechanism for vindicating its exclusive right to do so when it is challenged. This idea of criminal justice is an old one that is built into an old understanding of state authority. In the final section of this article, I show that it is not only conceptually coherent but also normatively attractive. I end by showing that some views that have often been associated with the right-to-rule approach set out here are not part of the account at all.

How can we make moral sense of the international humanitarian law doctrine of combatant immunity? The doctrine is morally shocking to many: It holds soldiers on both sides of a war immune from criminal prosecution for their otherwise criminal acts of killing, maiming, destroying property, etc., carried out as part of their country's war effort. That is, soldiers who kill as part of an attack benefit from the immunity just as much as those defending their country. Traditionally, just war theorists have tried to provide situation‐specific arguments to show that soldiers on both sides had a good moral justification for their actions. Recently, self‐styled “revisionist just war theorists” have suggested that the doctrine of combatant immunity is just a convention designed to minimize harm. In this article, I suggest that the moral foundation of the doctrine lies in the status of soldiers as public officials in the service of their country. The reason why we hold them immune from prosecution for their war‐making acts is that such acts are properly thought of as acts of a state, rather than as acts of a particular individual. And the reason why states are immune from prosecution for their acts is one of moral standing: No other state has the moral standing to tell another how to carry out the matters that define its jurisdiction. So as long as a country deems (however implausibly) that it must use force to defend itself from aggression, then it may do what is required to defend itself. No other state has the standing to prohibit such acts or to punish those who carry them out. This argument is rooted in an understanding of how individuals may interact as free and equal under law. It does not aim at the perfection of human action, but it does serve to eliminate the worst forms of tyranny.

Constitutional law has been and remains an area of intense philosophical interest, and yet the debate has taken place in a variety of different fields with very little to connect them. In a collection of essays bringing together scholars from several constitutional systems and disciplines, Philosophical Foundations of Constitutional Law unites the debate in a study of the philosophical issues at the very foundations of the idea of a constitution: why one might be necessary; what problems it must address; what problems constitutions usually address; and some of the issues raised by the administration of a constitutional regime. Although these issues of institutional design are of abiding importance, many of them have taken on new significance in the last few years as law-makers have been forced to return to first principles in order to justify novel practices and arrangements in their constitutional orders. Thus, questions of constitutional 'revolutions,' challenges to the demands of the rule of law, and the separation of powers have taken on new and pressing importance. The essays in this volume address these questions, filling the gap in the philosophical analysis of constitutional law. The volume will provoke specialists in philosophy, politics, and law to develop new philosophically grounded analyses of constitutional law, and will be a valuable resource for graduate students in law, politics and philosophy.