Hugh Breakey – författare

Once a highly cosmopolitan profession, law was largely domesticated by the demands of the Westphalian state. But as the walls between sovereign states are lowered, law is globalizing in a way that is likely to change law, lawyering and legal education as much over the next 30 years – when the students entering law schools today reach the peak of their profession – as it has over the last 300.

This book provides a sustained investigation of the theoretical and practical aspects of legal practice and education, synthesizing and developing nearly thirty years of Professor Sampford’s critical thought, analysis and academic leadership. The book features two major areas of investigation. First, it explains the significance of the ‘critical’, ‘theoretical’ and ‘ethical’ dimensions of legal education and legal practice in making more effective practitioners – placing ethics and values at the heart of the profession. Second, it explores the old/new challenges and opportunities for ethical lawyers. Challenges include those for lawyers working in large organisations dealing with issues from international tax minimisation to advising governments bent on war. Opportunities range from the capacity to give client’s ethical advice to playing a key role in the emergence of an international rule of law as they had to the ‘domestic’ rule of law.

The book should stimulate great interest and occasional passion for legal practitioners, students, teachers and researchers of law, lawyering, legal practice and legal institutions. Its inter-disciplinary approaches should be of interest to those with interests in education theory, international relations, political science and government, professional ethics, sociology, public policy and governance studies.

Once a highly cosmopolitan profession, law was largely domesticated by the demands of the Westphalian state. But as the walls between sovereign states are lowered, law is globalizing in a way that is likely to change law, lawyering and legal education as much over the next 30 years – when the students entering law schools today reach the peak of their profession – as it has over the last 300.

This book provides a sustained investigation of the theoretical and practical aspects of legal practice and education, synthesizing and developing nearly thirty years of Professor Sampford’s critical thought, analysis and academic leadership. The book features two major areas of investigation. First, it explains the significance of the ‘critical’, ‘theoretical’ and ‘ethical’ dimensions of legal education and legal practice in making more effective practitioners – placing ethics and values at the heart of the profession. Second, it explores the old/new challenges and opportunities for ethical lawyers. Challenges include those for lawyers working in large organisations dealing with issues from international tax minimisation to advising governments bent on war. Opportunities range from the capacity to give client’s ethical advice to playing a key role in the emergence of an international rule of law as they had to the ‘domestic’ rule of law.

The book should stimulate great interest and occasional passion for legal practitioners, students, teachers and researchers of law, lawyering, legal practice and legal institutions. Its inter-disciplinary approaches should be of interest to those with interests in education theory, international relations, political science and government, professional ethics, sociology, public policy and governance studies.

What is the social licence to operate, and what are its ethical risks and promises? This collection explores these questions from a range of perspectives.

Since its first key uses in the late 1990s in application to operational risks for extraction industries, the idea of the ‘social licence to operate’ has proliferated. It has since been applied to myriad industries—including tourism, paper milling, banking, and aquaculture—and even to the work of scientists and government agencies.

Yet what is the ethical status of this concept? It is easy to assume that the social licence to operate is a welcome tool to improve the ethics of profit-seeking enterprises, forcing them to genuinely respond to community and stakeholder concerns, or face operational risk if they do not. No doubt the social licence sometimes—perhaps even often—works in this way. Yet there is ethical risk as well as promise in the social licence. For the concept can be weaponised by stakeholders, taking operational legitimacy out of the hands of settled law and democratic institutions, and wedding it to shifting community attitudes. Conversely, the concept can be used as a rhetorical shield by industry, who can insist they possess a social licence even when engaging in fraught ethical practice. These conflicting uses give rise to a separate worry: that the social licence is too ambiguous to function as anything but a meaningless buzzword, a distraction from high ethical standards and strong governance regimes. This Collection interrogates these challenges, exploring in a range of contexts whether and how the social licence’s ethical promise can be secured, and its risks mitigated.

What is the social licence to operate, and what are its ethical risks and promises? This collection explores these questions from a range of perspectives.

Since its first key uses in the late 1990s in application to operational risks for extraction industries, the idea of the ‘social licence to operate’ has proliferated. It has since been applied to myriad industries—including tourism, paper milling, banking, and aquaculture—and even to the work of scientists and government agencies.

Yet what is the ethical status of this concept? It is easy to assume that the social licence to operate is a welcome tool to improve the ethics of profit-seeking enterprises, forcing them to genuinely respond to community and stakeholder concerns, or face operational risk if they do not. No doubt the social licence sometimes—perhaps even often—works in this way. Yet there is ethical risk as well as promise in the social licence. For the concept can be weaponised by stakeholders, taking operational legitimacy out of the hands of settled law and democratic institutions, and wedding it to shifting community attitudes. Conversely, the concept can be used as a rhetorical shield by industry, who can insist they possess a social licence even when engaging in fraught ethical practice. These conflicting uses give rise to a separate worry: that the social licence is too ambiguous to function as anything but a meaningless buzzword, a distraction from high ethical standards and strong governance regimes. This Collection interrogates these challenges, exploring in a range of contexts whether and how the social licence’s ethical promise can be secured, and its risks mitigated.