| THE LAWFUL AND THE LEGAL |
FRANK VAN DUN PH.D; DR.JUR
SENIOR LECTURER PHILOSOPHY OF LAW
The University of Ghent
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Journal des economistes et des études humaines
VI, 4, 1996, 555 - 579
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Abstract.
This paper presents an etymological approach
to the confusing language of law and rights.
It attempts to uncover the archetypical situations
and relationships that appear to have been
the original referents of words such as 'law'
and 'rights', 'legal' and 'just', as well
as other words that are indispensable in
discourses about law and justice: 'freedom',
'equality', 'peace', 'authority', 'society'
and others. The concepts of the lawful and
the legal can be clearly distinguished. The
distinction between them sheds an interesting
light, not only on the lawyer's conception
of law, but also on the old controversy over
natural law. From the analysis there emerges
a distinctly liberal conception of social
order as well as a a naturalistic, non-normative
conception of natural law, with no metaphysical
or theological connotations of a "higher
law". The elements uncovered by the
analysis provide a coherent scheme of law
that can serve as the basis for a non-deontic,
rights-based logic of law.
The Lawful and the legal Familiar linguistic
data indicate that the language of law and
rights refers in a confusing way to a variety
of very different ideas, and ultimately to
a variety of very different situations, relationships
and activities. To discover these differences
is the object of the ancient science of etymology,
the "study of the real or true state
of things", i. e. the attempt to uncover
the real differences in the things themselves,
or in the significance of things for human
needs and aspirations. In this paper I shall
review the etymological evidence for the
thesis that the lawful (what answers to law
or justice) and the legal (what answers to
the enacted laws) are not just distinct concepts,
but belong to categorically different perspectives
on the social aspect of human existence.
As we disentangle the concepts of the lawful
and the legal, that are nowadays usually
assimilated, or even considered identical,
we discover a recognisably "liberal"
picture of society as the peaceful order
of relations among separate but (in a definite
sense of the word) equal human beings, each
of them a naturally, i. e. physically, finite
person with his or her own equally finite,
physically delimited sphere of being and
work, i. e. property. In other words, we
discover not just that there is a difference
between the lawful and the legal, but also
the distinctive characteristic or principle
of law
("freedom among equals") and of
justice ("to treat others as one's likes").
Before we begin our etymological enterprise,
we shall consider the equation of the concepts
of the lawful and the legal, first in the
way lawyers commonly use the word 'law',
and then in the light of the dominant positivistic
paradigm of thinking about law. Because legal
positivism has historically defined itself
in opposition to theories of natural law,
I shall comment on the nature of that opposition.
Positivism rests to some extent on a legitimate
critique of a number of historically important
theories of natural law, but it has failed
to grasp the extent to which these theories
of natural law have betrayed the basically
naturalistic concern of natural law. We shall
see, however, that our etymological investigation
reveals a viable naturalistic conception
of natural law that is immune to the positivists'
critique.
Legal positivism And Natural law
The doctrines of legal positivism have provided
the law schools with the comforting notion
that law is to be found in the things lawyers
know and practise. Consequently, to study
these things, to familiarise oneself with
them, to acquire the necessary skills to
use and apply them in a wide range of real
life (or: court) situations, should suffice
as the proper aims of an education in the
law. It is little wonder, that the "education
in the law" these schools provide resembles
nothing so much as an initiation in the rites
and customs of a particular profession, its
dogmas, doctrines and prejudices, especially
concerning the so-called "sources of
law": legislative, judicial and administrative
rulings, treaties, and the main currents
of opinion among the members of the profession.
Positivism has rationalised the idea that
"law" has its source in the decisions
of designated political and professional
authorities. By equating the lawful with
the legal, it has helped to push the study
and practice of law away from considerations
of justice into a mere expertise in legality.
It is a common opinion among lawyers, that
law is a fairly definite something at a given
time and place, but may and is likely to
be different at different times or places.
Some go so far as to say that, conceptually,
law can be anything. As one textbook puts
it: "It is impossible to define [law]
in a way that does justice to reality....
Almost all jurists who give a definition
of law, give a different one. This is, at
least in part, to be explained by the fact
that law has many aspects, many forms, and
also by its majesty or grandeur." Apparently,
law defies definition. Law students should
realise that the definitions of the theorists
and philosophers never capture more than
one or a few aspects or forms of law. Lawyers,
who deal with all the aspects and forms of
the law, should know that the legal material
is a turbulent mass of diffuse, heterogeneous,
often fleeting and sometimes contradictory
things. However, in the same chapter of the
same book, we can also read this: "Thus,
law is society, human existence, or rather
that particular aspect of it that we call
social order." If this means that law
is a principle of society, or a principle
of social order, it is a statement with which
few people would disagree. "L'ordre
social est un droit sacré, qui sert de base
à tous les autres". With these words,
Jean-Jacques Rousseau expressed what is really
the traditional conception of law as well
as the reason for the esteem in which it
is traditionally held.
Clearly, the lawyers' attitude towards law
is ambiguous. On the one hand, when lawyers
want to justify their claims to authority
and prestige, they adopt the language of
natural law, with many references to "principles
of social order or justice". On the
other hand, they show no inclination whatsoever
to make the study of social order or justice
the basis of their activities as students
or practicioners of the law. In fact, they
are prone to accept the positivists' repudiation
of the very notion of natural law as irrelevant,
or even utterly "unscientific"
and "ideological". Positivism justifies
this repudiation of natural law inter alia
with the argument that science should be
value-free, and that the lawyers' science
can be value-free only if it sticks to the
"law as it is", without concern
for "what the law ought to be".
But "the law as it is" is simply
what, according to the general consensus
among lawyers, currently is or embodies "law".
From this perspective, natural law should
be relegated to the domain of extra-legal
speculation about what law ought to be: natural
law exists only as mere opinion, it does
not exist as a fact, it is not law.
It is easy to see that the positivistic critique
of the notion of natural law rests on a misconception.
The basic tenet of any doctrine of natural
law is that the existence of law is independent
of opinions about what law is or ought to
be. From the perspective of natural law theory,
the maxim that a science of law should consider
only "law as it is, and not what one
might believe ought to be law" is as
self-evident as the maxim that science should
study "the world as it is, and not as
one might believe it ought to be". Natural
law is not a human fabrication; it is not
something to which the distinction between
ought and ought not applies. On the other
hand, what is called 'positive law' is a
product of human activity, of human interests
and opinions. Surely, the natural law theorists
will say, there is nothing scientific about
restricting one's study of human opinions
to determining what they are, without any
attempt to critically evaluate their truth
value. Every science aims to go beyond the
opinions on its subject-matter, even those
currently held by its own practicioners,
to the truth of the matter. If, as the positivists
claim, law is "positive law" and
"positive law" reflects human opinions,
then the proper scientific attitude is to
check whether the opinions that make up the
positive law agree with natural law. From
the natural law perspective, then, legal
positivism amounts to a refusal to make law
the subject of a critical scientific inquiry.
The positivists may object that the opinions
that make up the law as they define it are
not opinions about matters of fact, but about
what ought or ought not to be the case, about
what is good or bad, better or worse. The
point of the objection is, of course, that
such opinions about norms and values may
not be the sort of opinions of which we can
sensibly ask whether they are true or not;
or that, if there is some sense in asking
this, we have no agreed on procedure for
deciding such issues other than the appeal
to effective authority. But this objection
misses the point. Natural law theory, properly
understood, is not some sort of normative
moral theory. It does not seek to make moral
judgements. It seeks to identify the principles
of social order, to judge human actions as
either lawful or unlawful, depending on their
relation to such principles. The question
"What is law?" is logically distinct
from, and prior to, the question "Should
we live according to law?".
It is true, that some moralists have tried
to represent their own particular moral ideals
as principles of social order, often to justify
attempts to legislate and enforce their programs
of "moral reform". These attempts
to read particular moral ideals into the
principles of social order have in the end
tended to discredit the paradigm of natural
law by shifting the focus of attention from
the objective conditions of society to the
significantly different concept of "the
good or perfect society". This shift
originated with the reaction of Plato and
Aristotle against the historical and naturalistic
approaches to social order of the fifth century
thinkers and philosophers of Athen's Golden
Age: the Sophists, and naturalists such as
Democritus. Visions of the perfect society
underlie the false conception of natural
law (ius naturale) as a system of natural
laws (leges naturales). They present law
as essentially normative, an ought that defies
reduction to any material condition of mere
existence. Law, in this sense, provides a
solution for every problem, and points the
way towards excellence and perfection in
every aspect of life. As such, laws can only
be expressed in statements about what people
should or should not be or do. Thus, natural
laws appear to have the same form as moral
rules and also as laws issued by those in
authority. This makes natural law a "higher
law", one that stands above, and serves
as a model for, the directives and commands,
the rules and regulations of the political
authorities as well as the mores of the people.
Natural law, in short, is made to appear
as an ideal legal system, with the distinguishing
characteristic that its validity in no way
depends upon its being enacted as positive
law. However, the turn towards metaphysics
and moralism did not obliterate all traces
of a naturalistic investigation of social
order. Aristotle did not repudiate such investigation;
he merely tried to render it harmless to
his own moralistic preoccupations by going
beyond physics (the study of nature) to metaphysics
(the attempt to fit nature into a teleology
that discloses the ultimate meaning or direction
of the world). It is instructive to see how
Thomas Aquinas at once proclaims the directive
powers of natural law with respect to every
aspect of life, and concedes that it would
not be practical or wise for the human legislator
to try to enforce all the presciptions of
natural law:
"[Because] law regards the common welfare...
there is no virtue whose practice the law
may not prescribe." [However,] "human
law is enacted on behalf of the mass of men,
most of whom are very imperfect as far as
the virtues are concerned. This is why law
does not forbid every vice which a man of
virtue would not commit, but only the more
serious vices which even the multitude can
avoid. These are the vices that do harm to
others, the vices that would destroy human
society if they were not prohibited: murder,
theft, and other vices of this kind, which
the human law prohibits."
Saint Thomas refers to the naturalistic notion
of law as the condition of social existence
only indirectly, and then only by way of
a merely pragmatic concession in an otherwise
idealistic frame-work of natural laws that
prescribe all the virtues. The same attitude
prevails in the writings on natural law of
the later Scholastics, and also of the rationalistic
natural law theories of the seventeenth century.
We can understand why the positivists have
always focussed their attention on this normative
conception of natural law as a "higher
law". Apart from its metaphysical trappings,
it exactly matches their own conception of
law. But the "higher law" theory
gets mired in all the endless and undecidable
controversies about "the truth of norms",
their existence and grounds of validity.
It can hardly escape the fate of becoming
no more than a rhetorical device for dressing
up any political or legislative programme
with the prestige of philosophy or religion.
Positivism has tended to relate the "natural
law" exclusively to efforts to use metaphysical
and theological schemata to read some particular
moralistic conception of "the good society"
into the natural order of things. It has
failed to grasp that such efforts confound
the natural with the meta-natural or the
supernatural. Early modern positivists set
out to provide a naturalistic foundation
for the normative conception of law, without
relying on the assumption that every valid
law prescribes behaviour that is already
prescribed "by nature". Arguing
from the sceptical premises that there is
no way of knowing the true principles of
"the good society", and from the
conviction that no society can exist when
everybody acts on his or her own beliefs,
the founding fathers of modern positivism
arrived at the conclusion, that the basic
condition of social life is that people do
not act on their own judgements. Thus Hobbes
argued that, as no society is possible when
we all do as we please, society is possible
only when we all do what one of us wills.
Moreover, since we are all naturally inclined
to act on our own judgements, society cannot
arise "by nature". Society is an
artificial construction; it requires an architect,
a sovereign, i. e. an individual monarch
or a monarchical assembly that acts "as
one man", capable of imposing his will
on all. For Hobbes, the existence in this
form of an irresistible "power to keep
everyone in awe" is the condition that
makes society possible. Except for this fundamental
law of social existence, law is what the
sovereign as such wills. Again, the lawful
and the legal coïncide, only this time they
do not do so only if human legislation accords
in full detail with the presciptions of nature;
they coïncide because no society could possibly
exist if it were not organised by the legislative
activity of rulers. It seems, then, that
positivism holds that the lawful and the
legal are necessarily identical, while classical
[metaphysical] natural law theory only maintains
that they should be identical. However, both
approaches seem to agree, that law is essentially
normative and that every aspect of human
life and action could conceivably and lawfully
be prescribed by human laws.
The outcome of the discussion so far is a
dilemma: from the point of view of classical
natural law theory a strong case can be made
against legal positivism; but the positivists
have an equally strong case against the classical
idea of natural law. We should question the
positivists' thesis of the equation of the
lawful and the legal - or, as some positivists
have expressed it, of law and the state -
because there seems to be no inconsistency
in the idea of a state without law or justice,
whereas the idea of a state without a legal
system of some sort most certainly is inconsistent.
Also, there is no inconsistency in saying
that some law or collection of laws has no
connection with justice; but it would be
a contradiction in terms to declare that
there is no logical connection between law
and justice. On the other hand, the posivists
are assuredly right in ridiculing the claim
of classical natural rights theory, that
"nature", on account of its inherent
telos or by divine providence, prescribes
for us in minute detail what we ought to
do or strive for, even if the practical import
of this claim is usually weakened by conceding,
that human laws should not presume to enforce
everything the natural laws prescribe.
The etymology of law and right
The previous section left us in a dilemma.
Is there an escape out of this dilemma? I
think there is one, if we are willing to
divest the notion of natural law of its metaphysical
garments. This is where we can employ the
resources of etymology in an endeavour to
discover "the real or true state of
things", i. e. the original meanings
of terms which we may have lost sight of
in the furor of the interminable squabbles
among axe-grinding theorists. The search
here is for a naturalistic conception of
natural law, one that provides an unambiguous
criterion for judging the lawfulness of actions,
including legislative actions, without necessitating
any recourse to "knowledge of metaphysical
things", and without having to fall
back on mere knowledge of the commands of
the sovereign or his agents.
My starting point will be, that law as justice
("Recht", "Droit") seems
to denote a horizontal relationship between
equals, whereas law as the measure of legality
("wet", "Gesetz", "loi")
seems to denote a vertical relationship within
a hierarchy, between a superior law-giver
or legislator and one or more inferiors or
subjects. Let us, then, take a look at the
concept of equality and its relation to the
concept of justice.
In some languages, for example in Dutch and
German, the word for equality is one that
in a literal translation would be rendered
in English as 'likeness': 'gelijkheid', 'Gleichheit'.
The etymological root is 'like' ('lijk',
'leich') which means body, or physical shape.
Thus, one's likes are those who are of similar
shape, or those who have the same sort of
body. There is no connection here with the
Latin 'aequus' or 'aequalitas', which suggest
not "likeness", "similarity",
"sameness" or "being of the
same sort", but rather "having
the same measure". In a literal sense,
the concept of aequalitas does not apply
to human beings as such, but only to particular
measures of shape, rank, ambition, ability
or excellence: two persons cannot be equal
as such, but they may be of equal height
or equally good at doing something. Even
if two persons were found to be equal in
all respects, we should qualify their equality
as an accidental and temporary condition.
On the other hand, likeness or similarity
is the outstanding characteristic of all
human beings. In fact, it is only in their
likeness or humanity that people are equal.
However, this is an extremely abstract sort
of equality. It adds nothing to the real
or natural or objective likeness of all human
beings, and it should not divert attention
away from the fact that apart from their
common humanity all people are different
in many ways, and unequal with respect to
many measures of shape, rank, ability or
whatever.
The distinction between equality and likeness
or similarity is of the utmost importance
for the logic of justice. For most people
"justice" and "equality"
are inseparable. But there is a world of
difference between justice-as-aequalitas
and justice-as-similitudo. It is often said,
that the fundamental requirement of justice
is equal treatment of all. Taken literally,
this is a requirement no one can possibly
meet, and no one will appreciate. There is
no way in which one can treat oneself as
one can treat others, and no occasion on
which one can meet out the same treatment
to all others. Distributive equality applies,
if at all, only to a well-defined, closed
group, when all its members stand in the
same relationship to the same distributive
agent (the parent and his or her children,
the teacher and his or her pupils, the commanding
officer and his troops, the hostess and her
guests, and so on) - and even so it presupposes
the inequality of the distributor with respect
to those in his care. In complex situations
distributive equality merely disregards the
inequalities that, by way of specialisation
and the division of labour and knowledge,
give rise to all the advantages of cooperation
and co-ordination.
It is precisely because "equal treatment"
in complex situations is an absurd requirement,
that Aristotle found it necessary to add
the amendment, that distributive justice
requires that equals be treated equally,
but unequals unequally. The whole point of
distributive justice would be lost, if it
did not serve to perpetuate the right sorts
of inequality. And the point of distributive
justice was for Aristotle essentially political:
to make sure that the best, and only the
best, rule, and that they perpetuate the
particular morality or way of life of the
community. Who are the best? They are those
who within their community are considered
the most eminent representatives of the community's
way of life: its traditional "elite".
Aristotle knew very well, that to apply the
concept of distributive justice the rulers
should be able to measure virtue; he also
knew, that to measure virtue the rulers should
always and continually keep the ruled under
close "moral investigation" to
determine the degree of their "political
correctness or defects". These consequences
did not bother him in the least. The whole
of his political thought was framed by his
vision of the polis as a small, self-sufficient
community ruled by a political elite.
None of these complications arise with the
concept of commutative justice, which we
can express as the requirement that one treat
all others as what they are, namely one's
likes, and not, say, as one would treat an
animal, plant, or inanimate object. This
requirement can of course be phrased in terms
of equality, e. g. as the requirement that
every one should accord all others equal
respect, or that one should recognise in
all one does that all others are equally
human. But again nothing is added by using
the language of equality rather than that
of likeness or similarity, except the risk
of confusing "equal justice" with
"equal treatment". Equal justice
is achieved by doing injustice to no one,
i. e. by treating others as one's likes;
equal treatment can only be achieved by not
doing anything.
With equality-as-similitudo we find an idea
of justice that immediately brings into focus
the idea of freedom. From an etymological
point of view, 'freedom' is quite different
from 'liberty'. The latter word is obviously
derived from the Latin 'libertas', and refers
to the status of a full member of some social
unit (originally, a family or tribe). 'Libertas'
is in fact the status of the liberi, i. e.
the children, considered not as babies or
young people, but as direct descendants.
The same meaning attaches to the Greek 'eleutheria'
(liberty), which is derived from a verb meaning
'to come'. Eleutheria, like libertas, is
the status of "those who come later".
In Dutch this meaning is rendered litterally
by the word 'nakomeling' (one who comes later).
Liberty points to a birthright, an inherited
status, or to the status of one who has been
adopted as a full member of the family or
tribe. As a political term, 'liberty' suggest
full membership in a political society, and
points to notions such as nationality and
citizenship.
Etymologists trace the origin of the word
'free' to an old Indian word 'priya' meaning:
the self, or one's own, and by extension:
what is part of, or related to, or like,
oneself, or even: what one likes, or loves,
or holds dear. Latin seems to have transformed
'priya' into 'privus' (one's own, what exists
on its own or independently, free, separate,
particular), 'privare' (to set free, to restore
one's independence), and 'privatus' (one's
own, personal, not belonging to the ruler
or the state, private). The picture that
emerges from these linguistic considerations
is clearly focussed on the person and his
or her property, not on some conventional
status within a well-defined social unit.
Political society - which in Aristotle's
view, is unified by a constitution (a "moral"
convention), and not by the ties of kinship
that define the family and the tribal village
- may have forged a link between freedom
and liberty, but this should not obscure
the fundamental distinction. Logically speaking,
freedom may well be a ground for claiming
liberty under the constitution, but even
if a constitution denies the status of liberty
to a free person, it does not thereby automatically
deprive him of his freedom. Conversely, if
a constitutional convention grants liberty
to a person, it does not automatically make
him more free than he was before. The grant
of liberty gives him full membership and
status in the constituted political organisation,
and nothing more. Freedom belongs to the
natural human being, liberty to a role player,
a functionary in an organisation. In modern
terms, we might say, that liberty belongs
to the "public sphere" (i. e. to
one's involvement with the business of the
state), while freedom belongs to the "private
sphere" where people meet one another
as free natural persons with full responsibility
for their own actions, and not as legal or
fictional persons ("citizens")
who are likely to explain and justify their
actions in terms of legally or constitutionally
conferred powers and privileges.
Thus, free, in the original sense of the
word, is one who exists by his or her own
efforts, one who is independently active,
"his own man" or who lives "with
a mind of her own". The proper context
for the application of the word 'free' is
the context of human interaction, where 'freedom'
denotes leading one's own life, or making
one's own decisions. This freedom is a correlation
of likeness or equality-as-similitudo, but
can hardly be reconciled with aequalitas.
Likeness, as noted before, does not make
one person the measure of another: it is
not concerned with excellence in any respect.
Also, to say that all people are alike does
no violence to the fact that people are separate
beings. Whether we are discussing the human
person as a real physical entity (the human
body) or as a source of physical activity
(movement, emotions, thought), we always
run into the inescapable fact of the separateness
of persons: my body is nobody else's, my
actions or deeds, my feelings and thoughts,
are as a matter of fact my own, and this
is true not only for me and mine, but also
for you and yours, her and hers, and so on
and on. My existence is and remains forever
separate from your existence. We may say
that freedom is a reality (one's own being,
an inescapable fact beyond the reach of choice)
as well as an activity (one's own work, Dutch:
'werkelijkheid', German: 'Wirklichkeit').
Real freedom (i. e. freedom as reality) is
an inescapable fact of life: a person is
free, and remains free until he dies; to
destroy a person's real freedom one has to
destroy the person. However, organic freedom
(i. e. freedom as work) is contingent and
vulnerable. All sorts of circumstances can
prevent a person from doing his work, but
only when the hindrance comes from within
the proper sphere of freedom - that is to
say: when it is the work of others - is it
a violation of the condition of equality-as-likeness,
i. e. of [commutative] justice. Such a violation
of a person's freedom is traditionally and
properly identified as an infringement of
his right.
Organic freedom is indeed the substance of
[subjective] right, as we shall see. Here
we should note only that the word 'right'
is nowadays understood mainly as referring
to elements in a real or ideal legal system.
Not surprisingly, it has acquired excessively
normative overtones: a right is what the
law says, or ought to say, a person, animal,
plant, or whatever, should be given or allowed
to have or do. It has lost virtually all
descriptive content. Nevertheless, it is
an indispensable word. In its original meaning
it points to a very basic aspect of human
life. Like the Dutch and the German 'Recht',
the French 'droit' and the Italian 'diritto',
'right' reminds us of the Latin '[di]rectum',
from '[di]regere', to make straight, or erect,
and by extension of meaning: measure, regulate,
rule, control, direct, manage, govern. The
one who does the straightening, erecting,
measuring, ruling or governing, is the rex
(usually but misleadingly translated as 'king'),
that which is under his control is his rectum
- it is his right. The word 'right', when
shorn of the current overgrowth of legal
and normative meanings, evokes the drama
of the struggle against an hostile environment;
it conjures up an image of force and violent
activity, of using physical power, manipulating
things and subjugating people. Might gives
right.
We may well ask how this extremely physical
concept of right-as-might can be connected
with justice. As we use the words 'right',
'recht', 'droit', 'diritto' now, the original
meaning has almost completely vanished. The
focus has shifted to the concept corresponding
to the Latin 'ius'. In its original meaning
'ius' (plural: 'iura') stood for "a
bond" or "a connection", but
with little or no physical connotations.
A ius originates in solemn speech ('iurare',
to swear, to speak in a manner that reveals
commitment and obligation). As such a ius
is a logical or rational, i. e. a symbolic,
hence social or moral bond. When the speech
is reciprocal, the result is an agreement
or contract among equals, an association.
Ius connotes commitment and obligation, but
also equality in the sense of likeness. By
speaking to another, and waiting for his
answer, by committing oneself towards him
and waiting for him to commit himself, one
treats him as one's like. It should be clear,
that a ius implies, that the persons involved
are mutually independent speakers. If one
of them is a right, or within the right,
of the other, there is presumably no ius
between them. This presumption may be defeasible,
but it cannot be dismissed out of hand, since
one person's speech acts may also be controlled
by the other, if the former is under the
control of the latter. A ius, in short, stands
in stark contrast to right-as-might. It creates
no physical bond (or yoke) that serves to
control or govern another as if he were an
animal to be tamed and steered. Instead it
creates a bond of an entirely different kind,
a covenant that respects his likeness and
leaves his freedom intact. The common idea
of a bond links the notions of ius and right-as-might,
but the different natures of the bonds, logical
in the one case, physical in the other, are
too obvious to ignore. Even if we disregard
the aspect of physical force and violence
in the practice of ruling (regnum), we should
not overlook the difference between speech
by which one obligates oneself (swearing,
promising) and speech by which one obliges
others (commanding).
The Romans also used the word 'ius' in a
sense in which it cannot be put in the plural.
Ius, for them, was was not just "a bond",
but also "the social bond", the
very existence of society, or its essential
pattern. Conceptually, objective ius appears
as the logical ground of specific iura, because
these only express a commitment to act in
accordance with objective ius. In Dutch,
we refer to objective ius as "objectief
recht", but also, and very appropriately,
as "wet" (nowadays "[a] law",
but originally: "what is known"
or "what is common knowledge").
The English word 'law' in fact also referred
originally to that which could be known by
all, to the general order of things. It derives
from 'laeg' (literally: the lay-out or order
of things).
From an etymological point of view, 'right'
and its continental equivalents are clearly
unfortunate translations of 'ius'. We should
also recognise that the original meaning
of the Dutch 'wet' has been completely lost,
at least in the discourse of lawyers and
jurists. In English 'law' is used as often
to refer to a legal system (or to its constituent
elements, the laws promulgated or invoked
by the law-makers) as to the principles of
social order as such. On the other hand,
we can easily see that the original meaning
of 'right' and the new meanings of 'wet'
and 'law' are very similar to the meaning
of the Latin 'lex' (a law, plural: 'leges').
There is the same suggestion of a hierarchical
or vertical relation between one who commands
or compels and those who are commanded or
compelled. A lex, for the Romans, was a decision
of the highest public authorities (in particular
the comitia) that binds their subjects. Lex
stood in clear opposition to ius, the latter
being a source of obligation either because
of the nature of things, or because of the
solemn or sworn agreement of those involved.
The word 'lex' is traced back to 'dilectus',
the raising of an army; its original meaning
was: a public proclamation ordering the male
population to do military service. It is
related to the verb 'legere' (participle:
'lectum'), which means to collect, to pick
up, even to steal. There is a clear reference
here to the formation of a military organisation,
and to giving orders, ruling, and, generally,
to using and manipulating people in the pursuit
of particular ends. A lex, then, denotes
power over human beings, in the same way
that regere or diregere denotes power over
things in general.
Perhaps the positivistic current in thinking
about law harks back to the original idea
of right-as-might, and to its application
in the form of leges to human material. This
would explain its fascination with the phenomena
of power and its almost total neglect of
questions of ius and iustitia. There is,
however, a straightforward way to harmonise
the original meanings of 'right' and 'ius'.
We only have to restrict the meaning of 'right'
to the government or management of one's
own work. In the same way, we can harmonise
the concepts of ius and lex, if we restrict
the application of lex to a person's command
over his own property. With these restrictions,
the physical activity that is a characteristic
of right-as-might as well as of lex remains
intact, but it is right or lawful only if
it stays within the bounds of ius or justice.
From the naturalistic perspective of natural
law, the bounds of justice are nothing else
than the real and organic boundaries of every
person as a physical and acting or working
entity. Specifically, ius implies that action
across these boundaries must be based on,
or sanctioned by, the agreement of those
who are materially affected by it. In this
sense, organic freedom as defined earlier
is the source of right if, and only if, in
exercising it one does not fail to deal with
others as one's likes.
The conception of property as the product
of one's organic freedom within the bounds
of justice is familiar to all students of
political thought. It corresponds to Locke's
assertion that the property of an object
originally belongs to its maker. Thus, the
original title of property is auctoritas,
the quality of being an auctor. 'Auctoritas'
derives from the verb 'augere', which means
"to grow [something]", and also
"to improve, augment, produce, make,
create, or found". Auctoritas is the
original ground of lawful possession: what
the auctor produces is, in an obvious sense,
his - it is by or of him. This makes him
solely responsible, answerable and liable
for it, for what one produces cannot answer
for itself, and, having no independent status
in law, cannot be held liable. In this sense,
the auctor guarantees what he produces. While
we are nowadays inclined to view authority
as perhaps primarily a direct vertical political
relationship between one person who wields
authority and another who is subject to it,
in its original sense authority exists between
a person and his work. In that sense, it
applies to an interpersonal relationship
only indirectly, as when one person who uses
the property of another should concede the
latter's authority over it.
Having authority over something is often
confused with having a say over it. E. g.
in Dutch, 'authority' is often translated
as 'gezag' or 'zeggenschap' (literally: say,
but also command, jurisdiction), although
these words properly apply only to a relationship
between persons. Ironically, to say in Dutch
or German that something belongs to a person
one should say that it listens to him ('toebehoren',
'zugehören'), or that it obeys him. In these
translations, the original idea of auctoritas
is lost and replaced by the idea of a relationship
between master and subject. In this respect,
they remind us of the extravagant conception
of property proposed by Aristotle in Politics,
where he claims that, properly speaking,
only articles of direct consumption (food,
clothing, a bed) and slaves can be property.
The characteristic of property, for Aristotle,
is that it is immediately useful to its owner.
Articles of consumption are property because
they yield their utility immediately in the
use we make of them; and slaves are property
because they are means of action (or life)
that are serviceable without requiring any
work on the part of the master, "whose
will they obey or anticipate". Aristotle
also considered a slave as "being better
off when under the rule of a master... [because]
he participates in reason enough to apprehend,
but not to possess it". Thus, Aristotle
cunningly suggests that owning slaves rests
on auctoritas: the master "improves"
the slave, who thereby becomes "a part
of the master, and wholly belongs to him".
For the same reason that slaves are property,
tools, i. e. "means of production",
are not property in Aristotle's sense. They
belong to the banausic sphere of manual and
wage labour, which, in the philosopher's
appreciation, is a sort of "limited
slavery". In this manner, while paying
lip-service to the naturalistic conception
of property as resting on auctoritas, Aristotle
assimilated owning property to the rule of
man over man, and at one and the same time
justified the regulation of the trades by
legislation as well as the legal inviolability
of the ownership of slaves. Clearly, whether
due to the influence of Aristotle or not,
a lot of modern legal thinking about property
fits nicely into the Aristotelian pattern:
apart from an individual's claims to what
he needs for direct consumption, only the
state's claims to obedience are considered
to be "inviolable property"; all
other claims are subject to legislative regulation.
Law and society
Several old sayings express the idea that
law or ius is a principle or necessary condition
of society: ubi societas, ibi ius ("where
there is society, there is law", or
"without law, no society"), fiat
justitia ne pereat mundus ("let there
be justice, so that the world will not perish").
It is unfortunate that Latin, and also French
and English, have only the word 'society'
to express this idea which is, in fact, the
fundamental presupposition of natural law.
This is unfortunate because, as we shall
see below, the ambiguities of 'society' may
easily mislead us to read into these old
truths a completely mistaken idea of law.
However, we can infer the proper interpretation
if we recall the original idea of law as
laeg, the lay-out or order of things. The
opposite of laeg is orlaeg (the old English
word for war; it survives in Dutch as 'oorlog'),
the desintegration of order (Dutch: 'war').
The modern English 'war', like the French
'guerre', derives from the Frankish 'werra'
(disorder, confusion). Thus, society, or
the condition of social existence, implies
the absence of war and warlike actions that
create disorder by destroying social bonds.
In Latin, 'ius' stands in opposition to 'iniuria',
the general term for typically warlike actions:
insults, willfully inflicted injuries, takings
of and damages to property, kidnappings,....
Such acts destroy society, or the social
bond (objective ius). That they do so is
obvious when we consider a society of two
persons. On an island with only two inhabitants,
there is no society, if they engage in actions
that are injurious to the other. In larger
settings, such actions continue to produce
their destructive effects, although these
may not be so immediately obvious or threatening
when they leave a large number of social
bonds intact.
In the light of these considerations, we
may say, that society is the absence of war,
i. e. peace, in human relationships. Society
is therefore a shared mode of existence without
enmity, i. e. a condition of friendly interaction
or friendship. Furthermore, the purpose of
warlike action, the intention of an enemy,
being the destruction or impairment of another's
faculties of independent existence or work,
war and enmity are direct threats to a person's
freedom. It appears therefore, that society
is the condition of peace, or amity, or freedom.
The conceptual links among "peace",
"friendship", and "freedom"
should be obvious if we consider that we
cannot have one of these things without any
of the other two. In some languages, most
conspicuously in Dutch and German, this link
is suggested even by the form of the words:
'vrede', 'vriendschap', 'vrijheid', and 'Frieden',
'Freundschaft', and 'Freiheit'. Etymologists
trace the origin of all these words to the
old Indian word 'priya' (one's own) which
I have discussed earlier as the root of 'freedom'.
There is also nothing mysterious about this
logical connection between the concept of
property and the concepts of peaceful, friendly
and free relations. Friendly relations are
peaceful relations, without iniuriae to person
or property. Peace is a condition in which
people can enjoy their property and independence,
without being subjected to hostile treatment.
And people are free to the extent that others
treat them peacefully and friendly, respect
them, their work and their property - in
one word, their right (the physical domain
of which they are the authors) - by dealing
with them according to ius, i. e. by abstaining
from iniuriae or warlike action. Thus, the
security of each person and his or her property
against predatory attack emerges here as
the necessary condition or principle of society,
its basic law or ius. We see, then, that
the definition of law as "society itself",
which, as we have noted, lingers on even
in some lawyers' textbooks, should not be
taken as a mere rhetorical flourish. It reflects
an immemorial pattern of thought that has
been transmitted in many Indo-European languages,
and even today forms the core of liberal
views on man and society.
From a natural law perspective, right is
id quod iustum est, i. e. what is in accordance
with objective ius, or law, or social existence.
More specifically, a subjective right is
action or activity that is in accordance
with the requirements of society, the respect
of the person and property of all people.
It is in this precise sense that we should
understand the ambiguous but popular definition
of a right as what is socially acceptable.
Unless we understand a right as what is acceptable
to "society itself", we lose the
connection with objective ius or law. This
happens when we interpret the phrase 'socially
acceptable' as "what is acceptable to
public opinion, or the ruling opinion, the
opinion of the rulers, or of some dominant
or majority group". Such a subjectivist
interpretation sacrifices the objectivity
of law on the altar of arrogance ("Law
is what is acceptable to us, we are [the
source of] the law"). More importantly,
it leads us back to a confusion of the lawful
and the legal, and into a confusion of two
radically distinct concepts of society. As
noted already, the latter confusion is all
the more likely for speakers of English (or
Latin or French), who have only the word
'society' to express both concepts. Speakers
of the Dutch language do not have this problem:
they can easily distinguish between "een
samenleving" (literally: a living-together
or symbiosis) and "een maatschappij"
(literally: a society or company).
A society-as-symbiosis (samenleving) is not
some well-defined, organised group, but precisely
that condition of lawful co-existence that
we have been discussing all along. It is
perhaps best described as the way of life
of those who live as free persons among their
likes. Thus, society-as-symbiosis is coextensive
with objective ius or law. It is a horizontal
society without hierarchical structure. It
is also an inclusive society without a formal
organisation based on certified membership.
Anyone who accepts to live according to law
is, by that fact alone, in society; anyone
who does not is, by that fact alone, an outlaw,
i. e one who is outside society. While people
in society participate in society, they do
not participate in the action of society,
because society is not a source of purposive
action. It is a general, a-centric society
because there is no particular common goal
and no central authority that that controls
or directs the activities of the rest. Interactions
among those in society have the character
of meeting, exchanging and parting, or of
freely entering into, or exiting from, durable
relationships on peaceful, friendly terms.
Thus, society-as-symbiosis is a catallactic
society. It is inapproriate and misleading
to say, that one who is in society is a part
of society, or that he is related to society
as a part is to a whole. The symbiotic relations
among persons are catallactic, not mereological.
It is therefore nonsensical to hypostasise
society-as-symbiosis, to ascribe some sort
of legal or fictional personality to it.
No person owns it, and no person is responsible
or answerable for it.
A society-as-company (maatschappij, German:
Gesellschaft) is a company of mates (Dutch:
'maten', literally: people who share their
meat, or eat from the same table, or live
from a single common source of income). The
mates or members are to be distinguished
very clearly from those who are not members
and as such have no claim to a share of the
income of the company. The Latin societas
also is a company of socii (literally: followers,
but also mates, compagnons, partners, assistants).
'Societas' and 'socius' are related to the
verb 'sequi', to follow. Thus, the constituent
relationship of a societas is that of following,
or, when it is looked at from the other side,
of leading. The leaders lead by imposing
their lex, that is to say: by directing the
actions of the followers by calling on, or
compelling, the followers to do as they are
told. A society-as-company is not at all
like the general condition of peaceful, friendly
and free co-existence. It makes sense to
ascribe a fictional personality to it, on
account of its hierarchical structure implied
by leading and following, commanding and
obeying, ruling and being ruled. A company
does have leaders, maybe even owners, who
can be held responsible and liable for the
actions of the whole. In contrast with a
society-as-symbiosis, it does have a formal
condition of membership, and usually a number
of more or less elaborate procedures for
admitting new members, determining the status
of a member within the organisation, confirming
and terminating membership. It is, therefore,
an exclusive, vertical society. It is also
a mono-centric, particular society. Society-as-company
is not a catallactic society, but a mereologically
organised whole, with each member playing
its prescribed part in the action of the
whole. It is coextensive with the actions
of its members only, at least in so far as
these take part in the action of the company
itself.
'Ubi societas, ibi ius' takes on a entirely
different meaning if we interpret 'societas'
in the exclusive sense, as society-as-company,
rather than in the inclusive sense, as society-as-symbiosis.
The conditions of existence of an exclusive
society or company are very different from
those of an inclusive society. They are usually
discussed under such headings as loyalty,
fairness (or distributive justice) and solidarity:
loyalty of the members to the company or
its leaders, and of the leaders to the stated
goals of the company; the members' perception
and appreciation of the fairness of its government
or management, and the solidarity of its
leaders and members, whether in the strong
sense of a willingness to assume responsibility
for all the actions of the company or any
of its members, or in the weaker sense of
a willingness to help other members. None
of these factors is to be taken for granted,
of course, and it is not surprising that
a great deal of effort is spent in trying
to figure out how companies can be kept going.
The object of this "science of management
(or government)" is not essentially
related to the study of law, even if the
existence of a company is undermined by conflict,
internal hostility, and other divisive factors
that reduce the company's ability to function
as a unit. Society-as-symbiosis, on the other
hand, reflects people's ability to go their
own way, individually or in the company of
others, in freedom, peace and friendship.
The idea of justice as "necessary for
society" is therefore ambiguous in exactly
the same way as the term 'society' itself.
So is the idea of a right as "what is
acceptable to society". However, within
a particular or exclusive society, justice
necessarily is a relativistic notion, whereas
justice as the condition of existence of
inclusive society is not. There are indeed
many societies-companies of different sorts
and sizes, with different organisational
structures, conditions of membership and
statutory purposes. Every particular exclusive
society will have its own particular conditions
of existence and success; and these serve
as the standards for evaluating the justice
of its principles of organisation and policy,
its leges. On the other hand, society-as-symbiosis
always and everywhere implies the fulfilment
of the same condition, which is that people
abstain from war-like action in their dealings
with one another. However, because of their
exclusive nature, many separate societies-companies
can exist side by side and interact in more
or less friendly ways, depending on whether
they operate according to law or not. Note
that an exclusive society's lawfulness depends
in no way on whether it acts in accordance
with its own criteria of justice. There is
also no reason why a company should meet
the requirements of law in order to be succesful
in its own pursuits. There have been, and
are, many companies that are organised in
clear defiance of the principles of law;
as well as many companies that are constituted
in a lawful manner, yet operate in a warlike
fashion. Such organised crime evokes the
need for organised defence, maybe even for
what is usually called a political organisation.
The latter sort of organisation, like any
other sort of company, may be organised in
a lawful or unlawful manner. However, let
it be ever so lawful in all respects, let
it be ever so vital for the protection of
society-as-symbiosis against predators, its
own organisational principle or lex is in
no way a determinant of law. And this holds
true, even when a company grows really big
and powerful enough to defy law with impunity
and on a large scale - when it sets itself
up as a state. As long as humans remain what
they are - separate beings of the same sort,
capable of independent action or work - law
remains what it is. Moreover, law, which
belongs to general society, takes precedence
over lex. For unlike general society, companies
are mere means of action, and not indispensable
to social existence. People can and do move
in and out of companies, become members or
associates of more than one company; companies
can be merged or split up, reorganised, dissolved,
and so on - without anyone inflicting any
unlawful harm on anyone else or weakening
the texture of general society. General society
is not a means of action of anyone. It is
the condition under which every person can
lawfully pursue his own goals, individually
or in the company of others. But except for
the leaders or organisers, most members of
a company are primarily tools to be used
and managed in furthering the goals of the
company or its leaders.
Concluding remarks
Before drawing conclusions from the analysis
presented here, I should recall the main
findings. We found that etymology reveals
a clear pattern underneath the confused and
confusing language of law, rights and justice.
On the one hand, "right" is at
bottom is not a moral or normative, but a
physical notion. It refers to what is under
the effective control of a person, what he
masters by skill, force or violence, or manipulates
at will. The notion of a lex applies when
a large number of people are within the right
of some other, who can set them to work by
a single call or command. On the other hand,
"justice" refers back to ius, which
does indicate a social or moral bond, a commitment
or agreement that originates in solemn speech.
Ius can only exist between human persons,
while right can exist between a person and
anything (including another person) that
can be manipulated or controlled by force
or the threat of violence. The rational character
of a ius presupposes the likeness of those
things between which it exists, especially
as regards the faculty of speech, the real
and organic freedom which are given by their
natural (biological, genetic) constitution,
and therefore also their mutual independence.
These presuppositions regarding the co-existence
of physically bounded, mutually independent,
rational beings correspond to the condition
of objective ius or law, the basic order
or lay-out of the world. This order is preserved
as long as people exercize their organic
freedom within the fixed boundaries of their
physical being and the ever-changing boundaries
constituted by their work - the two together
defining the order of persons and their property.
The exercise of power in this specific sense
is the concrete manifestation of organic
freedom; however, it reveals its lawful character
as a subjective right only within the context
of objective ius, when it is fitted into
the general pattern of freedom among equals.
As described here the complexity of the concept
of law results from the combination of an
inward-looking relationship between a person
and his means [of life, action and production,
i. e. his property] and an outward-looking
relationship between a person and his likes.
We can map this complexity diagrammatically
as shown in the figure. The diagram represents
the basic form of law as it is determined
by its subject-matter: the peaceful, friendly
and free symbiosis of human beings.
We can use the relationships depicted in
the diagram to formulate a pure "logic"
of law, as well as the axioms for a formal
theory of law. This logic of law is not concerned
with norms or directives. It is neither some
kind of deontic logic, nor some kind of logic
of imperatives. It is instead a logic of
just rights. If the formulation of such a
logic obviously exceeds the scope of this
paper, a few remarks are nevertheless in
order. Being purely formal, the logic of
law does not by itself force any interpretation
of its basic terms ('person', 'means', 'is
a means of') upon us. We can, if we wish,
treat the diagram above as an empty box and
then fill it up in any way we like, using
whatever "model" that strikes our
fancy. However, under a naturalistic interpretation,
one that uses objectively and publicly ascertainable
criteria of identification, the logic clearly
reveals the pattern of a natural law theory
of human rights.
I U S
(law)
-
Person A Ü (speech) Þ Person B ß ( iura )
ß right right auctoritas auctoritas autonomy
autonomy ß ß
Means of A Means of B
The most interesting conclusion we can draw
from the preceding analysis is, that "law"
is not an essentially normative concept,
no more than "right". Law is not
a presciption telling us, how we ought to
behave. Law is a natural fact, and law is
natural law and nothing else. It describes
the order of the world - the basic lay-out
of human affairs. We do not need any teleological
or theological or otherwise metaphysical
"knowledge" in order to be able
to judge whether some action or relationship
is lawful or not. To make such a judgement,
we should not focus on what people ought
to do according to some "moral"
or "legal code", but on the objective
or agreed on boundaries among persons. The
interesting questions are strictly factual:
Who did what, when, how, and to whom? Who
made or acquired this? How did she make or
acquire it, alone or with the help of others?
Did the others consent to help? Did they
consent to help only if some conditions were
granted? Were these conditions honored? The
common presupposition of all of these questions
is, that every person is a finite, bounded
being, separate from others not only in his
being but also in his actions and work or
auctoritas. Of course there may be all sorts
of complications and uncertainties when we
try to answer these questions with respect
to particular cases or situations of an unfamiliar
type. There is need for efficient and effective
ways of dealing with these. This is precisely
the area where the expertise of lawyers and
jurists is so valuable. However, as it is
clear what the questions are and aim at,
there is a definite standard by which we
can judge any proposed answers or methods
for answering them. From this point of view,
the objective of the practice of law is to
determine and safeguard the law and the just
rights of persons in situations where these
may be unclear or contested. In this sense,
the practice of law is a rational discipline
of justice, not of legality.
For the layperson, who gives little thought
to all but a few cases where determining
rights is problematic, it may be difficult
to grasp the point of much of what lawyers
practise. However, just as one need not have
the knowledge of an architect to know what
a house is, one need not know the lawyer's
business to know what is law or ius. The
knowledge of law requires no more than an
ability to grasp the idea of freedom among
equals, the ability to recognise others as
one's likes, i. e. at the same time, their
likeness and their otherness. That knowledge
consists in the recognition of the difference
between what one is or does oneself and what
one's likes are or do. This ability is, from
a psychological, even biological, point of
view, so vital, and at the same time, from
a sociological point of view, so fundamental
for the existence of social order, that we
simply expect any person to possess it. Nemo
ius ignorare censitur: nobody should be thought
to ignore the law. While this old maxim makes
no sense whatsoever when we take ius or law
either as the specialised skills of lawyers
or as the output of legislation and regulation
by governments, it makes eminent sense when
we take law or [objective] ius as the condition
that makes society possible: the recognition
of the separateness and likeness of persons.
When it is applied to legal systems - and
it often is - the maxim merely expresses
the arrogance of rulers who assume that everybody
else carefully takes note of, and obeys,
their commands, or else turns for advice
to those who specialise in listening to the
rulers (lawyers, not as experts in iustitia,
but as experts in the current state of legislation).
The modern intellectual is not likely to
give up her objection to natural law merely
on account of the fact that it has nothing
to to with a metaphysical "higher law",
and everything with the order of persons
and their property rights. With an obligatory
reference to Hume, she will insist that one
cannot logically infer a norm from a fact.
Therefore, if natural law is given a naturalistic
interpretation nothing follows from it regarding
what we ought to do. In other words: even
if natural law should tell us how things
are, it cannot tell us why they should not
be different; it is no basis for criticism
of human actions in general, nor, in particular,
of legislative, judicial or administrative
rule- or decision-making. However, Hume also
expressly noted that it is not improper to
call the rules of justice Laws of Nature
"if by natural we understand ... what
is inseparable from the species". Hume's
remark about the gap between is and ought
was meant to "subvert all the vulgar
systems of morality", not to condone
action in defiance of what is inseparable
from human nature. For Hume, justice is "an
invention [that] is obvious and absolutely
necessary; it may as properly be said to
be natural as any thing that proceeds immediately
from original principles, without the intervention
of thought or reflection." Justice is
not something inevitable or unavoidable,
but it is indispensable, the world and the
human species being what they are. Why, then,
should we act within the bounds of justice?
Not because we cannot do otherwise, but because
so much depends on it. Our intellectual may
then cynically object, that there is no proof
that she ought to care about the things that
depend on natural justice. There is no direct
reply to this objection other than a proof
of the thesis, that we ought to be just.
If our intellectual only argues, that there
is no reason for believing that aggression
or warlike action is "unjust",
she is plainly mistaken. To bring another
within one's "right" by warlike
means is just as obviously a violation of
the conditions of ius as defence against
injurious attack is a just subjective right.
Democritus said it well: "It is needful
to kill the enemy, whether a wild or creeping
thing or a human being."
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