by Xandra Kramer (Erasmus University Rotterdam/Utrecht Univeristy) and Ekaterina Pannebakker (Leiden University), editors

1. Introduction

As was briefly announced earlier on this blog, on 29 January 2021, the Dutch Court of Appeal in The Hague gave a ruling in a long-standing litigation launched by four Nigerian farmers and the Dutch Milieudefensie. The Hague Court held Shell Nigeria liable for pollution caused by oil spills that took place in 2004-2007; the UK-Dutch parent company is ordered to install equipment to prevent damage in the future. Though decided almost four months ago, the case merits discussion of several private international law aspects that will perhaps become one of the milestones in the broader context of liability of parent companies for the actions of their foreign-based subsidiaries.

Climate change and related human rights litigation is undoubtedly of increasing importance in private international law. This is also on the radar of the European institutions as evidenced among others  by the ongoing review of the Rome II Regulation (point 6). Today, 26 May 2021, another milestone was reached, both for for private international law but for the fight against global climate change, with the historical judgment (English version, Dutch version) by the Hague District Court ordering Shell to reduce Co2 emissions (point 7). This latter case is discussed more at length in today’s blogpost by Matthias Weller.

2. Oil spill in Nigeria and litigation in The Hague courts

As is well-known Shell and other multinationals have been extracting oil in Nigeria since a number of decades. Leaking oil pipes have been causing environmental damage in the Niger Delta, and consequently causing health damage and social-economic damage to the local population and farmers. Litigation has been ongoing in the Netherlands and the United Kingdom for years (see Geert van Calster blog for comments on a recent ruling by the English Supreme Court). At stake in the present case are several oil spills that occurred between 2004-2007 at the underground pipelines and an oil well near the villages Oruma, Goi and Ikot Ada Udo. The spilled oil pollutes agricultural land and water used by the farmers for a living.

Shortly after the oil spills, four Nigerian farmers instituted proceedings in the Netherlands, at the District Court of The Hague. The farmers are supported by the Dutch foundation Milieudefensie, which is also a claimant in the procedure. The claimants submit that the land and water, which the Nigerian farmers explored for living, became infertile. They claim compensation for the damage caused by the Shell’s wrongful acts and negligence while extracting oil and maintaining the pipelines and the well. Furthermore, they claim to order Shell to secure better cleaning of the polluted land and to take appropriate measures to prevent oil leaks in the future.

The farmers summon both the Shell’s Nigerian subsidiary and the parent company at the Dutch court. To be precise, they institute proceedings against the Shell’s Nigerian subsidiary – Shell Petroleum Development Company of Nigeria Ltd and against the British-Dutch Shell parent companies – Royal Dutch Shell Plc (UK), with office in The Hague; Shell Petroleum N.V. (a Dutch company) and the ‘Shell’ Transport and Trading Company Ltd (a British company). It is this corporate structure that brings the Nigerian farmers to the court in The Hague and paves the way for the jurisdiction of Dutch courts.

3. Jurisdiction of Dutch courts: anchor defendant in the Netherlands and sufficient connection

 Both the first instance court (in 2009) and the court of appeal at The Hague (in appeal in 2015) hold that the Dutch courts have jurisdiction. The ruling of the Court of Appeal is available in English and contains a detailed motivation of the grounds of jurisdiction of the Dutch courts. See in particular at [3.3] – [3.9].

Claim against Shell parent company/companies. Dutch courts have jurisdiction to hear the claim against Shell Petroleum based on art. 2(1) Brussels I Regulation, as the company has its registered office in the Netherlands. Furthermore, the jurisdiction of Dutch courts to hear the claims against Royal Dutch Shell is based on art. 2(1) in conjunction with art. 60(1) Brussels I Regulation and the jurisdiction over claims to Shell Transport and Trading Company – on art. 6(1) and art. 24 Brussels I Regulation.

Claim against Shell’s Nigerian subsidiary. The jurisdiction of the Dutch courts to hear the claim against Shell’s Nigerian subsidiary is based on art. 2(1) in conjunction with art. 60(1) Brussels I Regulation and on art. 7(1) of the Dutch Code of civil procedure (DCCP). Art. 7(1) deals with multiple defendants. By virtue of art. 7(1) DCCP, if the Dutch court with jurisdiction to hear the claim against one defendant (in this case this is the Royal Dutch Shell), has also the jurisdiction to hear the claims against co-defendant(s), ‘provided the claims against the various defendants are connected to the extent that reasons of efficiency justify a joint hearing’. The jurisdiction on the claim against the so-called ‘anchor defendant’ (for instance, the parent company) can thus carry with itself the jurisdiction on the other, connected, claims against other defendants.

Both the first instance court and the court in appeal found that the claims were sufficiently connected, despite the contentions of Shell. The Shell’s contentions were twofold. First, Shell stated that the claimants abused procedural law, because the claims against Royal Dutch Shall were ‘obviously bound to fail and for that reason could not serve as a basis for jurisdiction as provided in art. 7(1) DCCP’ (at [3.1] in the 2015 ruling). According to Shell, the claim was bound to fail, because the oil leaks were caused by sabotage, in which case Shell would be exempt from liability under the applicable Nigerian law. This contention was dismissed: the claim was not necessarily bound to fail, according to the first instance court. The appellate court added that it was too early to assume that the oil spill was caused by sabotage. Second, Shell contested the jurisdiction of the Dutch courts because the parent companies could not reasonably foresee that they would be summoned in the Netherlands for the claims as the ones in the case. Dismissing this contention the court of appeal at The Hague stated in the 2015 ruling that ‘in the light of (i) the ongoing developments in the field of foreign direct liability claims (cf. the cases instituted in the USA against Shell for the alleged involvement of the company in human rights violations; Bowoto v. Chevron Texaco (09-15641); Kiobel v Royal Dutch Petroleum Co., 133 S. Ct. 1659 (2013), as well as Lubbe v. Cape Plc. [2000] UKHL 41), added to (ii) the many oil spills that occurred annually during the extraction of oil in Nigeria, (iii) the legal actions that have been conducted for many years about this (for over 60 years according to Shell), (iv) the problems these oil spills present to humans and the environment and (v) the increased attention for such problems, it must have been reasonably foreseeable’ for the parent companies taken to court with jurisdiction with regard to Royal Dutch Shell (see the 2015 ruling at [3.6].

4. Application of (substantive) Nigerian law

Substantive law. All claims addressed in the Court of Appeal ruling of 29 January 2021 are assessed according to Nigerian law. This is the law of the state where the spill occurred, the ensuing damage occurred and where the Shell’s Nigerian subsidiary (managed and monitored by Shell) has its registered office. The events that are the subject of litigation occurred in 2004-2007 and fall outside the temporal scope of Rome II. Applicable law is defined based on the Dutch conflict of laws rules on torts, namely art. 3(1) and (2) Wet Conflictenrecht Onrechtmatige Daad (see the first instance ruling at [4.10]).

Procedural matters. Perhaps because the case of damage to environment as the one in the discussed case, the application of substantive law is strictly tied to the evidence, the court goes on to specify private international law with further finesse. It mentions explicitly that procedural matters are regulated by the Dutch code of civil procedure. In the meantime, the substantive law aspects of the procedure, including the question which sanctions can be imposed, are governed by the lex causae (Nigerian law). The same holds true for substantive law of evidence, including the specific rules on the burden of proof relating to a particular legal relationship. The other, general matters relating to the burden of proof and evidence are regulated by the lex fori, thus the Dutch law of civil procedure (at [3.1]).

5. The ruling of The Hague Court of Appeal

 In its the ruling, the Dutch court holds Shell Nigeria liable for damage resulting from the leaks of pipelines in Oruma and Goi. Nigerian law provides for a high threshold of burden of proof that rests on the one who invokes sabotage of the pipelines (in this case, Shell). The fact of sabotage must be (evidenced to be) beyond reasonable doubt. Shell could not provide for such evidence for the pipelines in Oruma and Goi. Furthermore, Shell has not undertaken sufficient steps for the cleaning and limiting environmental damage. Shell Nigeria is therefore liable for the damage caused by the leaks in the pipelines. The amount of the damage to be compensated is still to be decided. The relevant procedure will follow up. The ruling is, however, not limited to this. Shell is also ordered to build at one of the pipelines (the Oruma-pipeline) a Leak Detection System (LDS), so that the future possible leaks could be swiftly noticed and future damage to the environment can be limited. This order is made to Shell Nigeria and to the parent companies.

Spills at Oruma and Goi are are two out of three oil spills. The procedure on the third claim – the procedure regarding the well at Ikot Ada Udo will continue: the reason for the oil spill is not yet clear and the next hearing has been scheduled.

6. Human rights litigation and Rome II

This Shell case at the Dutch court is one in a series of cases where human rights and corporate responsibility are central. Increasingly, it seems, victims of environmental damage and foundations fighting for environmental protection can celebrate victories. In the introduction we mentioned the English Supreme Court ruling in Okpaby v Shell [2021] UKSC 3 of February 2021. In this case the Supreme Court reversed judgments by the Court of Appeal and the High Court in which the claim by Nigerian farmers brought against Shell’s parent company and its subsidiary in Nigeria had been struck out (see also Geert van Calster’s blog, guest post by Robert McCorquodale). Also there is a growing body of doctrinal work on human right violations in other countries, corporate social responsibility, due diligence and the intricacies of private international law, as a quick search on the present blog also indicates.

From a European private international law perspective, as also the discussion above shows, the Brussels Ibis Regulation and the Rome II Regulation are key. The latter Regulation has been subject of an evaluation study commissioned by the European Commission over the past year, and the final report is expected in the next months. Apart from evaluating ten years of operation of this Regulation, one of the focal points is the issue of cross-border corporate violations of human rights. The question is whether the present rules provide an adequate framework for assessing the applicable law in these cases. As discussed in point 5 above, in the Dutch Shell case the court concluded that Nigerian law applied, which may not necessarily be in the best interest of environmental protection. This was based on Dutch conflict rules applicable before the Rome II Regulation became applicable, but Art. 4 Rome II would in essence lead to the same result. For environmental protection, however, Art. 7 Rome II may come to the rescue as it enables victims to make a choice for the law of the country in which the event giving rise to damage occurred instead of having the law of the country in which the damage occurs of Art. 4 applied. In a similar vein, the European Parliament in its draft report with recommendations to the Commission on corporate due diligence and corporate accountability, dated 11 September 2020, proposes to incorporate a general ubiquity rule in art. 6a, enabling a choice of law for victims of business-related human rights violations. In such cases a choice could be made for the law of the country in which the event giving rise to the damage occurred, or the law of the country in which the parent company has its domicile, or, where it does not have a domicile in a Member State, the law of the country where it operates. This draft report, which also addresses the jurisdiction rules under the Brussels Ibis Regulation was briefly discussed on this blog in an earlier blogpost by Jan von Hein.

7. Shell and climate continued: The Hague court strikes again

Today, all eyes were on the next move of The Hague District Court in an environmental claim brought against Royal Dutch Shell Plc (RDS). It concerns a collective action under the (revised) Dutch collective action act (see earlier on this blog by Hoevenaars & Kramer, and extensively Tzankova & Kramer 2021), brought – once again by Milieudefensie, also on behalf of 17,379 individual claimants, and by six other foundations (among others Greenpeace). The claim boils down to requesting the court to order Shell to reduce emissions. First, the court extensively deals with the admissibility and representativeness of the claimants as part of the new collective action act (art. 3:305a Dutch Civil Code). Second, the court assesses the international environmental law, regulation and policy framework, including the UN Climate Convention, the IPCC, UNEP, the Paris Agreement as well as European law and policy and Dutch law and policy.

Third, and perhaps most interesting for the readers of this blog, the court assesses the applicable law, as the claim concerns the global activities of Shell. As Weller has highlighted in his blogpost that discussion mostly evolves around Art. 7 Rome II. Milieudefensie pleaded that Art. 7 should, pursuant to its choice, lead to the applicability of Dutch law and, should this provision not lead to Dutch law, on the basis of Art. 4(1) Rome II. In establishing the place where the event giving rise to the damage occurs the court states that ‘An important characteristic of the environmental damage and imminent environmental damage in the Netherlands and the Wadden region, as raised in this case, is that every emission of CO2 and other greenhouse gases, anywhere in the world and caused in whatever manner, contributes to this damage and its increase.’ Milieudefensie holds RDS liable in its capacity as policy-setting entity of the Shell group. RDS pleads for a  restrictive  interpretation and argues that corporate policy is a preparatory act that falls outside the scope of Art. 7 as ‘the mere adoption of a policy does not cause damage’. However, The Hague Court finds this approach too narrow and agrees with the claimants that Dutch law applies on the basis of Art. 7 and that, in so far as the action seeks to protect the interests of Dutch residents, this also leads to the applicability of Dutch law on the basis of Art. 4.

The judgment of the court, and that’s what has been all over the Dutch and international media, is that it orders ‘RDS, both directly and via the companies and legal entities it commonly includes in its consolidated annual accounts and with which it jointly forms the Shell group, to limit or cause to be limited the aggregate annual volume of all CO2 emissions into the atmosphere (Scope 1, 2 and 3) due to the business operations and sold energy-carrying products of the Shell group to such an extent that this volume will have reduced by at least net 45% at end 2030, relative to 2019 levels’.

To be continued – undoubtedly.

by Roxana Banu

The “International Social Service” (initially named “International Migration Service”) was created in 1920 by the Young Women Christian Association as a network of social work branches helping migrant women and children. In 1924 it became an independent transnational network of social work agencies offering socio-legal services to migrants and refugees, irrespective of gender, religion or race. It grew exponentially since then and is now present in over 120 countries helping more than 75,000 families each year. Since its inception and largely unbeknownst to private international law scholars, it worked (and continues to work) on virtually every aspect of transnational family law. In the first half of the twentieth century the ISS used its extensive database of social work case records to draft expert opinions on private international law matters for the League of Nations, bar associations, the US Congress, the Hague Conference on Private International Law and others. It devised and coordinated interdisciplinary teams of experts to conduct research on cross-border family maintenance and cross-border adoptions. It experimented with all sorts of legal arguments in order to push for new claims in private international law, especially in U.S. courts.

The ISS has been hiding in plain sight in the history of private international law since the 1920s. Anyone lucky enough to visit ISS-USA’s archives at the University of Minnesota would be astonished by ISS’s extensive engagement with virtually every aspect of transnational family law. During the first half of the 20^th century the ISS left no stone untouched in an effort to devise an international socio-legal framework for cross-border family maintenance claims. It lobbied scholars, consuls, employers, national legislators and international organizations; its global network of social workers worked together to inform women living abroad when their husbands attempted to file divorce proceedings in the U.S.; it experimented with entirely new and imaginative legal arguments to convince U.S. courts to assume jurisdiction over foreign women’s maintenance claims against their husbands living in the U.S.; and it submitted expert evidence to the Child Welfare Committee of the League of Nations.

Unbeknownst to contemporary private international law scholars, the report sent by Ernst Rabel to the League of Nations on cross-border maintenance claims had in fact been commissioned by the ISS and based almost entirely on its case files. The entire project on cross-border maintenance claims was in fact the brainchild of Suzanne Ferriere, ISS’s General Secretary until 1945 and thereafter its assistant director and one of only three women on the International Committee of the Red Cross during WWII.

In the 1930s the ISS was involved in the debates on the nationality of married women at the League of Nations. Unlike other feminist organizations, which were skeptical of the League’s attempt to conceptualize the issue of married women’s nationality as a conflict of laws question, the ISS offered an analysis of its case records precisely to press the League to become more conscious and more precise about the conflict-of-laws dimensions of the issue of married women’s nationality. It continued to press for legal aid for foreign citizens, to help foreigners bring inheritance and property claims either in the U.S. or in their countries of origin and to press U.S. and foreign courts to co-operate with each other in cross-border family law matters.

In between the two World Wars several ISS social workers were responsible for the relocation of Jewish children to the U.S., devising new rules on cross-border guardianship and adoption almost from scratch. After the Second World War ISS personnel collaborated with the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration in setting up cross-border adoption and guardianship standards for displaced unaccompanied minors. Meanwhile, back in the U.S., ISS members petitioned the US Congress to raise the quota for adopted children and to disallow adoptions by proxy.

Most of the issues the ISS had been working on in the first half of the 20^th century belonged to an unchartered private international law territory. With modest funds, ISS branches often engaged in detailed legal research projects. Among many other gems, ISS USA’s archive contains numerous article clippings, extensive correspondence and research inquiries sent to universities, legislators or other social workers in an attempt to piece together private international law concepts and techniques that were unknown even to legal practitioners and scholars at the time.

Recovering the history of ISS’s engagement with private international questions is worthwhile in itself. But even more remarkably, one could zoom in and out of the ISS and thereby begin to write an entirely new history of private international law. Zooming in, one is exposed to a surprising joined history between transnational social work and private international law. As the ISS was pioneering new transnational case-law methods, it placed private international law squarely in its center, to the dismay of both social workers and private international law scholars. Reading social workers’ forays into private international law together with their writings on transnational social work methods and on multiculturalism offers a new window into private international law’s and social workers’ engagements with the foreign, contradictory and paradoxical as they may be. Zeroing in on the ISS as a private international law agent also exposes a whole range of women – social workers, philanthropists, ambassadors’ wives, Hollywood actresses – that are entirely unknown to a field that it yet to write its gendered history.

Zooming out of the ISS offers yet another lens through which to re-write private international law’s history. On the one hand, ISS combined a micro-analysis on individual cases and individual families with a macro-analysis of the geopolitical context causing hardship for families across borders. Tapping into this dual standpoint presses private international law, through the eyes of the ISS, to reconstruct its relationship with migration law and policy and with the field of international relations. On the other hand, moving the analysis from the ISS outward means joining private international law back with the extensive network that the ISS itself was relying on when doing its work. Among many other remarkable figures, this network exposes Jewish women émigrés to the Americas who were using their dual-legal background to help migrants or who had managed to become private international law professors in their own right. For example, although most would be familiar with Werner Goldschmidt’s work in Private International Law, few would know that his sister-in-law, Ilse Jaffe Goldschmidt opened an ISS branch in Venezuela (the Nansen Medal was awarded to its director general, Maryluz Schloeter Paredes, in 1980) and worked extensively on cross-border adoption matters.

Engaging with the history of the ISS means retracing an incredible range of connections between private and public international, migration law and policy, foreign affairs and social work, connections which were often built and fostered by the ISS itself. The archive contains interviews, studies in refugee camps, cross-branches socio-legal research studies, expert opinions offered to a whole range of actors, reports and opinion pieces on a broad set of geopolitical and socio-legal topics, as well as confidential letters sent between the branches cataloging the challenges of their unprecedented work. Whether one is interested to recover the range of private international law projects that the ISS was involved in or engages with the ISS as a window through which to gage a new history of private international law, its extensive archives in every corner of the world are waiting to be explored.

Roxana Banu is a Lecturer in Private International Law at Queen Mary University of London, Faculty of Law. Roxana researches on legal history and feminist perspectives on private international law. She is the author of Nineteenth Century Perspectives on Private International Law (OUP, 2018) and “A Relational Feminist Perspective on Private International Law,” awarded the ASIL Prize for the best paper in Private International Law in 2016. She is currently writing a book on a gendered history of private international law, which includes a more detailed discussion of the role of the ISS in the history of private international law. She offers a brief portrait of the women of the ISS in Roxana Banu, “Forgotten Female Actors in the History of Private International Law. The Women of the International Social Service 1920-1960,” in Immi Tallgren ed., Portraits of Women in International Law (forthcoming with OUP, 2021).

originally posted at www.iss-usa.org March 3, 2021

Benedikt Windau, the editor of a fabulous German blog on civil procedural law, www.zpoblog.de, recently interviewed Federal Judge Dr Hartmut Rensen, Member of the Tenth Panel of the division for civil and commercial matters at the German Federal Court of Justice (Bundesgerichtshof) on the experiences with video hearings in national an international patent matters in the pandemic. I allow myself to pick up a few elements from this fascinating interview in the following for our international audience:

The Tenth Panel functions as a court of first appeal (Berufungsgericht) in patent nullity proceedings and as a court of second appeal for legal review only (Revisionsgericht) in patent infringement proceedings. In both functions, particularly in its function as court of first appeal, actors from all over the world may be involved, and indeed, Judge Rensen reported about parties and their respective representatives and teams from the USA, Japan, South Korea, the UK, France, Italy and Spain during the last year.

Obviously, the start of the pandemic raised the question how to proceed, once physical hearings on site could no longer take place as before, since particularly in the appeal proceedings parties had usually appeared with several lawyers, patent lawyers, technical experts, interpreters etc., i.e. a large number of people had gathered in rather small court rooms, to say nothing of the general public and media. Staying all proceedings until an expected end of the pandemic (for which we are still waiting) would indeed have infringed the parties‘ fundamental procedural right to effective justice, abstaining from oral hearings and resorting to submission and exchange of written documents instead, as theoretically provided as an option under section 128 (2) German Code of Civil Procedure, would evidently not have been satisfying in matters as complex as patent matters (as well as probably in most other matters).

German civil procedural law allows for video hearings under section 128a (1) German Code of Civil Procedure. It reads (in the Governments official, yet may be not entirely perfect translation): „The court may permit the parties, their attorneys-in-fact, and advisers, upon their filing a corresponding application or ex officio, to stay at another location in the course of a hearing for oral argument, and to take actions in the proceedings from there. In this event, the images and sound of the hearing shall be broadcast in real time to this location and to the courtroom.“ The key word is „permit“. If the court „permits“ the parties etc. to proceed as described, it does not mean that the parties are required to do so. And indeed, parties applied for postponing scheduled hearings instead of going into video hearings. The presiding judge of the court has to decide on such a motion according to section 227 on „changes of date for scheduled hearings“. Section 227 (1) Sentence 1 reads: „Should substantial grounds so require, a hearing may be cancelled or deferred, or a hearing for oral argument may be postponed“. Sentence 2 reads: „The following are not substantial grounds: No. 1: The failure of a party to appear, or its announcement that it will not appear, unless the court is of the opinion that the party was prevented from appearing through no fault of its own“. Is this enough ground to reject the motion in light of the offer to go into video hearings? The Tenth Panel was brave enough to answer this question positively. Further, it was brave enough to overcome the friction between section 128a – permission for video hearings to be decided by the entire bench of the court at the opening of the first hearing – and section 227 (1) – decision about the motion to postpone a scheduled hearing by the presiding judge prior to that hearing. In the interest of progress in e-justice and effective access to justice in times of the pandemic, this is to be applauded firmly, all the more because the Panel worked hard, partly on its own initiative (as the general administration of the court would have been far too slow), to equip the court room with the necessary video technology: several cameras showing each judge and the entire bench, at the same time making sure that no camera reveals internal notes, the same for each party and team. The video conference tool that is currently used is MS Teams (despite all obvious concerns) as being the most reliable one in terms of broadcasting image and sound. The Panel invited to technical rehearsals the day before the hearing and for feed-backs afterwards, in order to improve itself and in order to build up trust, which seemed to have been quite successful. The specific nature of patent proceedings resulted in the insight that the function „screen sharing“ is one of the most helpful tools which will probably continue to be used in post-pandemic times. Sounds to me like examples of best practice. In sometimes rather „traditional“ environments of the German administration of justice, this is not a matter of course.

In relation to sovereignty issues when foreign parties are involved, the Panel takes the view that the territorial sovereignty of a foreign jurisdiction is not affected by a mere permission in the sence of section 128a because the place of the hearings can be considered still as being the locus of the court, i.e. Karlsruhe, Germany. Judge Rensen reported about talks between the Federal Ministry of Justice and its counterparts on the level of the states to the opposite, but as Judge Rensen pointed out, these are ongoing talks amongst ministerial officers, no court decisions or specific legislations that would bind the Panel. Things are certainly more difficult when it comes to the taking of evidence. The Panel has done this only once so far, apparently within the scope of application of the EU Taking of Evidence Regulation. This case was specific, insofar as the testimony appeared to be entirely in line with and supported by undisputed facts and other testimonies, and these circumstances established a particularly solid overall picture about the point. This is why the Panel held the video testimony to be sufficient, which might mean that in mixed pictures the Panel might tend towards insisting on testimony in physical presence. In general, Judge Rensen supported judge-made progress, as opposed to specific legislation on legal assistance, as such legislation (like the EU legislation, including its latest recast on the matter) might lead to the misconception that such legislation would be required as a matter of principle in all cases to allow video hearings with foreign participants. For this reason, he pleaded for taking this factor into account before reforming section 128a (if at all), as such legislation would not be in sight in relation to a number of third states. At the same time the work of e.g. the HCCH on improving and modernising legal assistance under the HCCH 1970 Convention on the Taking of Evidence may be helpful nevertheless to promote and support video hearings in legal certainty, see e.g. the HCCH 2020 Guide to good practice on the use of video-link under the Hague Evidence Convention, but indeed the approach towards states staying outside these legal frameworks must be considered likewise.

Guest Post by Diego A. Zambrano, Assistant Professor of Law, Stanford Law School

For years now, the concept of a “Brussels Effect” on global companies has become widely accepted. A simple version of the story goes as follows: the European Union sets global standards across a range of areas simply by virtue of its large market size and willingness to construct systematic regulatory regimes. That is true, for instance, in technology where European privacy regulations force American companies (including Facebook, Google, and Apple) to comply worldwide, lest they segment their markets. As Anu Bradford has expertly argued, it is also true in environmental protection, food safety, antitrust, and other areas. When companies decide to comply with European regulations across markets, the European Union effectively “exports” its regulatory regimes abroad, even to the United States.

In a forthcoming article, How Litigation Imports Foreign Regulation, I argue that foreign regulators not only shape the behavior of American companies—they also influence American litigation. From the French Ministry of Health to the Japanese Fair Trade Commission and the European Commission, I uncover how foreign agencies can have a profound impact on U.S. litigation. In this sense, the “Brussels Effect” is a subset of broader foreign regulatory influence on the American legal system.

The intersections are rich and varied. For instance, plaintiffs in dozens of pharmaceutical cases in U.S. court are requesting that multinational defendants disclose documents previously produced to foreign regulators. These plaintiffs base their legal cases around findings by, say, the French Ministry of Health rather than the American Food and Drug Administration (FDA). Similarly, plaintiffs in antitrust cases keep close tabs on enforcement actions by the European Commission, piggybacking on the work of foreign regulators, borrowing foreign theories and documents, and even arguing that foreign regulatory action should bolster cases in U.S. courts. And foreign regulators even submit letters to U.S. district courts, advocating for a particular outcome or objecting to the production of confidential documents.

Take a recent case, In re Zofran, involving allegations that GlaxoSmithKline (GSK) sold the drug Zofran while knowing it caused severe birth defects.  GSK argued that “plaintiffs could offer no evidence that the drug caused birth defects” and that “even the FDA had rejected similar claims.” Plaintiffs’ case was headed for an adverse summary judgment until a key piece of evidence emerged—documents that GSK had produced to the “Japanese Ministry of Health and Welfare, including a series of studies showing potential birth defects that defendants had ‘performed specifically to satisfy Japanese regulatory requirements.’”  These documents allowed plaintiffs to dodge FDA findings and defeat a motion for summary judgment.

Or take another example, antitrust cases that piggyback on the foreign agencies. In a recent case alleging a conspiracy by American and foreign banks to fix prices for European sovereign bonds, plaintiffs left no doubt that “they remained ignorant of the conspiracy’s existence until the European Commission’s Statement of Objections put them on notice.”  In other words, a European Commission report triggered a large antitrust case in U.S. court.

Sometimes, plaintiffs draw on foreign regulators precisely because those foreign agencies disagree with U.S. regulators. In one pharmaceutical case, plaintiffs blamed a company for failing to warn of cancer risks, “citing reports from Health Canada, which they argued uncovered ‘new safety information’ that the FDA failed to consider.”

I argue in my article that this phenomenon of private litigation that borrows foreign regulation is widespread and needs more attention. The trend comes, of course, with costs and benefits. On the one hand, drawing on foreign regulators can serve as a “failsafe” when domestic regulators are incompetent or captured. This could audit the work of our underperforming agencies, allowing litigators to compare the FDA with the Taiwanese health agency or the Environmental Protection Agency against European environmental regulators. Moreover, importing regulation can give litigants and courts access to increased expertise and information gathering. And it may even harmonize U.S. and foreign regulations, promoting coherence and regulatory convergence.

Recent litigation involving the Boeing 737 Max crashes demonstrates the promise of imported foreign regulation. Many sources have reported a cozy relationship between Boeing and the Federal Aviation Administration, suggesting a classic case of regulatory capture. Private plaintiffs suing Boeing may thus have difficulty relying on reports from the FAA to support their cases. But Boeing does not wield similar influence over the European Aviation Safety Agency. So, plaintiffs could rely on EASA investigations to establish basic facts against Boeing, allowing the court to leverage the work of a relatively unbiased regulator.

While these benefits seem clear, costs also abound. We may worry, for instance, about empowering foreign regulators that have their own political agendas. Europeans, for one, may be protectionist against American tech companies. This could promote inefficient overregulation of activity that U.S. regulators have deemed appropriate. Foreign regulation could also chill essential domestic innovation. What if the FDA approves a COVID vaccine but private plaintiffs sue the manufacturer based on adverse reports in Japan? In a nightmare scenario, companies in the United States would worry not only about complying with America’s sprawling regulations, but also about litigants trawling foreign countries for regulatory support.

Because it shows both promise but also risks, I recommend a better way to control the use of foreign regulations: Whenever a plaintiff proposes to use a foreign regulatory finding, courts should solicit the opinions of our domestic regulators. These opinions would help courts determine whether foreign regulations are compatible with America’s regulatory regimes. However, agency opinions would not bind courts. Indeed, judges should take these opinions with a grain of salt and be wary of domestic regulatory capture. Even if agencies are unwilling to offer opinions, asking plaintiffs to give notice of their intent to use a foreign regulatory finding would alert domestic regulators of areas where they may be underperforming.

As traditional channels of transnational coordination die out, private parties, courts, and regulators are searching for new ways to promote transnational convergence. Both the Brussels Effect and the phenomenon of regulatory importation are examples of where the legal international order is heading.

For German-speaking conflict of law friends, especially those with a strong interest in its procedural perspective (and this seems to apply to almost all of them by now, I guess), the year 2021 has begun beautifully, as far as academic publications are concerned. Two fantastic textbooks were released, one on European civil procedural law, and one on international civil procedural law:

After more than ten years the second edition of Burkhard Hess’s 2nd edition of  his textbook on „Europäisches Zivilprozessrecht“ is now on the table, 1026 pages, a plus of nearly 300 pages and now part of the renowned series „Ius Communitatis“ by DeGruyter. It is a fascinating account of the foundations („Grundlegung“, Part 1, pp. 3 – 311) of European civil procedure as well as a sharp analysis of the instruments of EU law („Europäisches internationales Zivilprozessrecht“, Part 2, pp. 313 – 782). Part 3 focuses on the interplay between autonomous and European procedural law (pp. 783 – 976). Extensive tables of the cases by the ECJ and the ECtHR as well as a large subject index help to access directly the points in question. The foreword rightly points out that European civil procedural law has reached a new phase. Whereas 10 years ago, the execution of the agenda under the then still new competency in (now) Article 81 TFEU was at issue, today enthusiasm and speed have diminished. Indeed, the ECJ had to, and still has to, defend „the fundamental principles of EU law, namely mutual trust and mutual recognition, against populist attacks and growing breaks of taboos by right-wing populist governments in several Member States“ (Foreword, p. 1, translation here and all following ones by myself; see also pp. 93 et seq. on the struggle for securing independence of the national judge in Hungary and Poland as a matter of the EU‘s fundamental values, Article 2 TEU). At the same time, the EU legislator and the ECJ had shown tendencies towards overstreching the legitimatory potential of the principle of mutual trust before the EU returned to „recognition with open eyes“ (as is further spelled out at para. 3.34, at p. 119), as opposed to blind trust – tendencies that worried many observers in the interest of the rule of law and a convincing balancing of the freedom of movement for judgments and other juridical acts. The overall positive view by Hess on the EU’s dynamic patterns of judicial cooperation in civil matters, combined with the admirable clarity and comprehensiveness of his textbook, will certainly contribute considerably to address these challenges.

Equally admirable for its clarity and comprehensiveness is Haimo Schack’s 8th edition of his textbook on „Internationales Zivilverfahrensrecht“, including international insolvency and international arbitration, 646 pp., now elevated from the „short textbook series“ to the „large textbook series“ at C.H.Beck. The first part addresses foundations of the subject (pp. 1 – 68), the second part describes the limits of adjudicatory authority under public international law (pp. 69 – 90), the third part analyses all international aspects of the main proceedings (pp. 91 – 334), the fourth part recognition and enforcement (pp. 335 – 427), the fifth and sixth part deal with insolvency (pp. 428 – 472) and arbitration (pp. 473 – 544). Again, an extensive table of cases and a subject index are offered as valuable help to the user. Schack is known for rather sceptical positions when it comes to the narrative of mutual trust. In his sharp analysis of the foundations of international procedural law, he very aptly states that the principle of equality („Gleichheit“) is of fundamental relevance, including the assumption of a principal equivalence of the adminstrations of justice by foreign states, which allows trust in and integration of foreign judicial acts and foreign laws into one’s own administration of justice: „Auf die Anwendung eigenen Rechts und die Durchführung eines Verfahrens im Inland kann man verzichten, weil und soweit man darauf vertraut, dass das ausländische Recht bzw. Verfahren dem inländischen äquivalent ist“ (We may waive the application of our own law and domestic proceedings because and as far as we trust in the foreign law and the foreign proceedings are equivalent to one’s own, para. 39, at p. 12) – a fundamental insight based, inter alia, on conceptual thinking by Alois Mittermaier in the earlier parts of the 19th century (AcP 14 [1831], pp. 84 et seq., at pp. 95, justifying recognition of foreign judgments by the assumption that the foreign judge should, in principle, be considered „as honest and learned as one’s own“), but of course also on Friedrich Carl v. Sagigny, which I allowed myself to further substantiate and transcend elsewhere to the finding: to trust or not to trust – that is the question of private international law (M. Weller, RdC, forthcoming). In Schack’s view, „the ambitious and radical projects“ of the EU in this respect „fail to meet with reality“ (para. 126, at p. 50). Equally sceptical are his views on the HCCH 2019 Judgments Convention („Blütenträume“, para. 141, at p. 57, in translation something like „daydreams“).

Perhaps, the truth lies somewhere in the middle, namely in a solid „trust management“, as I tried to unfold elsewhere.

Our blog has reported earlier on the Proposal and Report by the Committee on Legal Affairs of the European Parliament for a Resolution on corporate due diligence and corporate accountability. That proposal contained recommendations to amend the EU Regulations Brussels Ia (1215/2015) and  Rome II (864/2007). The proposals were discussed and commented on by Jan von Hein, Chris Tomale, Giesela Rühl, Eduardo Álvarez-Armas and Geert van Calster. 

On 10 March 2021 the European Parliament adopted the Resolution with a large majority. However, the annexes proposing to amend the Brussels Ia and Rome II Regulations did not survive. The Resolution calls upon the European Commission to draw up a directive to ensure that undertakings active in the EU respect human rights and the environment and that they operate good governance. The European Commission has already indicated that it will work on this.

Even if the private international law instruments are not amended, the Resolution touches private international law in several ways.

*  It specifies that the “Member States shall ensure that relevant provisions of this Directive are considered overriding mandatory provisions in line with Article 16 of Regulation (EC) No 864/2007” (Art. 20). It is a bit strange that this is left to national law and not made an overriding mandatory provision of EU law in line with the CJEU’s Ingmar judgment (on the protection of commercial agents – also a Directive). Perhaps the legislator decides otherwise.

* It proposes a broad scope rule covering undertakings “operating in the internal market” and encompassing activities of these undertakings or “those directly linked to their operations, products or services by a business relationship or in their value chains” (Art 1(1)). It thus imposes duties on undertakings to have due diligence strategies and communicate these even if the undertakings do not have their seat in an EU Member State. In this way it moves away from traditional seat theories and place of activities tests.

Written by Toshiyuki Kono, Pedro de Miguel Asensio and Axel Metzger

The International Law Association’s Committee on “Intellectual Property and Private International Law” has finished its work with the adoption and publication of the “Kyoto Guidelines on Intellectual Property and Private International Law”. The Guidelines are the outcome of an international cooperation of a group of 36 scholars from 19 jurisdictions lasting for ten years under the auspices of ILA. The Kyoto Guidelines have been approved by the plenary of the ILA 79th Biennial Conference, held (online) in Kyoto on December 13, 2020. The Guidelines provide soft-law principles on the private international law aspects of intellectual property, which may guide the interpretation and reform of national legislation and international instruments, and may be useful as source of inspiration for courts, arbitrators and further research in the field. Different from older regional projects, the Kyoto Guidelines have been prepared by experts from different world regions. The Guidelines have now been published with extended comments as a special issue of the Open Access journal JIPITEC: https://www.jipitec.eu.

The ILA Committee on “Intellectual Property and Private International Law” was created in November 2010. Its aim was to examine the legal framework concerning civil and commercial matters involving intellectual property rights that are connected to more than one State and to address the issues that had emerged after the adoption of several legislative proposals in this field in different regions of the world. The work of the Committee was built upon the earlier projects conducted by the Hague Conference of Private International Law as well as several academic initiatives intended to develop common standards on jurisdiction, choice of law and recognition and enforcement of judgments in intellectual property matters.

In the initial stages of the activities of the Committee it was agreed that its overall objective should be to draft a set of model provisions to promote a more efficient resolution of cross-border intellectual property disputes and provide a blueprint for national and international legislative initiatives in the field. Therefore, the focus of its activities has been the drafting of a set of guidelines with a view to provide a valuable instrument of progress concerning private international law aspects raised by intellectual property. Furthermore, the Committee conducted a number of comparative studies and monitored the developments in different jurisdictions around the world. The Committee also worked in collaboration with several international organizations, particularly the World Intellectual Property Organization and the Hague Conference on Private International Law.

The final text of the Guidelines consists of 35 provisions, which are divided in four sections: General Provisions (Guidelines1-2), Jurisdiction (3-18), Applicable Law (19-31) and Recognition and Enforcement of Judgments (Guidelines 32-35). As suggested by the term “Guidelines”, this instrument contains a set of provisions intended to guide the application or reform of private international laws in this field. The Guidelines restate certain well-established foundational principles such as the lex loci protectionis rule and aspire to provide concrete solutions for pressing contemporary problems, in areas such as multi-state infringements and cross-border collective copyright management. In order to make explicit the influence of the previous projects in the field and to facilitate the comparison with them, the short comments are preceded by the reference to the similar provisions adopted previously in the ALI Principles[1], CLIP Principles[2], Transparency Proposal[3] and Joint Korean-Japanese Principles[4]. As an additional instrument to facilitate the uniform interpretation of the Guidelines, the Committee has prepared a set of extended comments to all the provisions.

The Guidelies have now been published together with extended comments written by members of the ILA Committee which explain the background and application of the Guidelines.

[1]  American Law Institute, Intellectual Property: Principles Governing Jurisdiction, Choice of Law and Judgments in Transnational Disputes, ALI Publishers, 2008.

[2] European Max Planck Group on Conflict of Laws in Intellectual Property, Conflict of Laws in Intellectual Property (Text and Commentary), OUP, 2013.

[3] Japanese Transparency Proposal on Jurisdiction, Choice of Law, Recognition and Enforcement of Foreign Judgments in Intellectual Property, see the English text in J. Basedow, T. Kono and A. Metzger (eds.), Intellectual Property in the Global Arena – Jurisdiction, Applicable  Law, and the Recognition of Judgments in Europe, Japan and the US, Mohr Siebeck, 2010, pp. 394-402.

[4]  Joint Proposal by Members of the Private International Law Association of Korea and Japan, see The Quarterly Review of Corporation Law and Society, 2011, pp. 112-163.

This post was written by Vito Bumbaca, PhD candidate/ Assistant Lecturer, University of Geneva

The EAPIL blog has also published a post on this topic, click here.

Introduction:

The Council Regulation (EC) No 2201/2003 of 27 November 2003 concerning jurisdiction and the recognition and enforcement of judgments in matrimonial matters and the matters of parental responsibility, repealing Regulation (EC) No 1347/2000 (Brussels IIA Regulation) still applies to the United Kingdom in EU cross-border proceedings dealing with parental responsibility and/ or child civil abduction commenced prior to the 31 December 2020 (date when ‘Brexit’ entered into force). Moreover, the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU) is entitled to exercise its jurisdiction over such proceedings involving the UK.

The decision of the High Court of England and Wales (Family Division, 6 November 2020, EWHC 2971 (Fam)), received at the CJEU on 16 November 2020 for an urgent preliminary ruling (pursuant to article 19(3)(b) of the Treaty of the European Union, art. 267 of the Treaty of the Functioning of the European Union, and art. 107 of the Rules of Procedure of the Court of Justice), and the CJEU judgment (SS v. MCP, C-603/20, 24 march 2021) are taken as reference in this analysis.

Question for a CJEU urgent preliminary ruling:

‘Does Article 10 of [Regulation No 2201/2003] retain jurisdiction, without limit of time, in a Member State if a child habitually resident in that Member State was wrongfully removed to (or retained in) a non-Member State where she, following such removal (or retention), in due course became habitually resident?’

Contents of the EWHC (Family Division) judgment:

This judgment involved an Indian unmarried couple with a British daughter, born in England (2017), aged more than three (almost four at the time of the CJEU proceedings). Both parents held parental responsibility over their daughter, the father being mentioned as such in the birth certificate. The mother and the child left England for India, where the child has lived continuously since 2019. The father applied before the courts of England and Wales seeking an order for the return of the child and a ruling on access rights. The mother contested the UK jurisdiction (EWHC 2971, § 19).

The father claimed that his consent towards the child’s relocation to India was temporary for specific purposes, mainly to visit the maternal grandmother (§ 6). The mother contended that the father was abusive towards her and the child and, on that basis, they moved to India (§ 8). Consequentially, she had requested an order (Form C100 ‘permission to change jurisdiction of the child’, § 13). allowing the child’s continuous stay in India. Accordingly, the mother wanted their daughter to remain in India with her maternal grandmother, but also to spend time in England after the end of the pandemics.

In the framework of article 8, Brussels IIA, the Family Division of the Court of England and Wales held that the habitual residence assessment should be fact-based. The parental intentions are not determinative and, in many circumstances, habitual residence is established against the wishes of the persons concerned by the proceedings. The Court further maintained, as general principles, that habitual residence should be stable in nature, not permanent, to be distinguished from mere temporary presence. It concluded that, apart from British citizenship, the child did not have factual connections with the UK. Therefore, according to the Court, the child was habitually resident in India at the time of the proceedings concerning access rights initiated in England (§ 16).

The Family Division extended its analysis towards article 12(3) of the Regulation concerning the prorogation of jurisdiction in respect of child arrangements, including contact rights. For the Court, there was no express parental agreement towards the UK jurisdiction, as a prerogative for the exercise of such jurisdiction, at the time of the father’s application. It was stated that the mother’s application before the UK courts seeking the child’s habitual residence declaration in India could not be used as an element conducive to the settlement of a parental agreement (§ 32).

Lastly, the Court referred to article 10 of Brussels IIA in the context of child abduction while dealing with the return application filed by the father. In practice, the said provision applies to cross-border proceedings involving the EU26 (excluding Denmark and the United Kingdom (for proceedings initiated after 31 December 2020)). Accordingly, article 10 governs the ‘competing jurisdiction’ between two Member States. The courts of the Member State prior to wrongful removal/ retention should decline jurisdiction over parental responsibility issues when: the change of the child’s habitual residence takes place in another Member State; there is proof of acquiescence or ultra-annual inaction of the left-behind parent, holding custody, since the awareness of the abduction. In these circumstances, the child’s return would not be ordered in principle as, otherwise provided, the original jurisdiction would be exercised indefinitely (§ 37).

In absence of jurisdiction under Brussels IIA, as well as under the Family Law Act 1986 for the purposes of inherent jurisdiction (§ 45), the High Court referred the above question to the CJEU.

CJEU reasoning:

The Luxembourg Court confirmed that article 10, Brussels IIA, governs intra-EU cross-border proceedings. The latter provision states that jurisdiction over parental responsibility issues should be transferred to the courts where the child has acquired a new habitual residence and one of the alternative conditions set out in the said provision is satisfied (SS v. MCP, C-603/20, § 39). In particular, the Court observed that article 10 provides a special ground of jurisdiction, which should operate in coordination with article 8 as a ground of general jurisdiction over parental responsibility (§ 43, 45).

According to the Court, when the child has established a new habitual residence in a third State, following abduction, by consequently abandoning his/ her former ‘EU habitual residence’, article 8 would not be applicable and article 10 should not be implemented (§ 46-50). This interpretation should also be considered in line with the coordinated activity sought between Brussels IIA and the Convention of 19 October 1996 on Jurisdiction, Applicable Law, Recognition, Enforcement and Co-operation in Respect of Parental Responsibility and Measures for the Protection of Children (§ 56).

Ultimately, the Court maintained that article 10 should be read in accordance with recital 12 of the Regulation, which provides that, as one of its fundamental objectives, parental responsibility issues should be decided by the courts that better suit the principle of factual proximity in the child’s best interests (§ 58). Accordingly, the courts that are closest to the child’s situation should exercise general jurisdiction over parental responsibility. To such an extent, article 10 represents a balance between the return procedure, avoiding benefits in favour of the abductor parent, and the evoked proximity principle, freezing jurisdiction at the place of habitual residence.

The Court further held that if the courts of the EU Member State were to retain jurisdiction unconditionally, in case of acquiescence and without any condition allowing for account to be taken concerning the child’s welfare, such a situation would preclude child protection measures to be implemented in respect of the proximity principle founded on the child’s best interests (§ 60). In addition, indefinite jurisdiction would also disregard the principle of prompt return advocated for in the Convention of 25 October 1980 on the Civil Aspects of International Child Abduction (§ 61).

The Court concluded that insofar as the child’s habitual residence changes to a third State, which is thus competent over parental responsibility, and article 12 of the Regulation is not applicable, the EU courts seised of the matter should apply the rules provided in the bilateral/multilateral instruments in force between the States in question or, on a subsidiary basis, the national Private International Law rules as indicated under article 14, Brussels IIA (§ 64).

Comment:

Considering the findings of fact, the CJEU reasoning and, prior to it, the EWHC judgment, are supported in that the daughter’s habitual residence at the time of the parental de facto separation (EWHC 2971, § 6-10) was in India; and remained there at the relevant date of the father’s application for return and access rights. If we assume, as implicitly reported in the decisions, that the child was aged less than one at the time of the first relocation from England to India, and that she lived more than two years (18 months between 2017-2018 and almost fully 2019-2020, (EWHC 2971, § 25)) within the maternal family environment in India, including prior to the wrongful act, her place of personal integration should be located in India at the above relevant date. Such a conclusion would respect the factual proximity principle enshrined in recital 12 of Brussels IIA, according to which habitual residence is founded on the child’s best interests. Recital 12 constitutes a fundamental objective applicable to parental responsibility, including access rights, and child abduction proceedings. As a result, the courts of the EU26 should be bound by it as a consequence of the Brussels IIA direct implementation.

The CJEU has not dealt with specific decisive elements that, in the case under analysis, would determine the establishing of the child’s habitual residence in India at a relevant time (the seisin under art. 8 and the period before abduction under art. 10 of the Regulation). Considering the very young age (cf. CJEU, SS v. MCP, C-603/20, § 33: ‘developmentally sensitive age’) of the daughter at the time of the relocation, the child’s physical presence corresponding to the mother’s and grandmother’s one as the primary carers prior to the wrongful act (retention) and to the return application, as well as the Indian social and family environment at the time of the seisin, highlighted by the EWHC, should be considered determinative (cf. CJEU, UD v. XB, C-393/18, 17 October 2018, § 57) – the Family Division instead excluded the nationality of the child as a relevant factor. The regularity of the child’s physical presence at an appreciable period should be taken into account, not as an element of temporal permanent character, but as an indicator of factual personal stability. In this regard, the child’s presence in one Member State should not be artificially linked to a limited duration. That said, the appreciable assessment period is relevant in name of predictability and legal certainty. In particular, the child’s physical presence after the wrongful act should not be used as a factor to constitute an unlawful habitual residence (Opinion of Advocate General Rantos, 23 February 2021, § 68-69).

Again, in relation to the child’s habitual residence determination in India, the child’s best interests would also play a fundamental role. The father’s alleged abuse, prior to the relocation, and his late filing for return, following the wrongful retention, should be considered decisive elements in excluding the English family environment as suitable for the child’s best interests. This conclusion would lead us to retain India as the child-based appropriate environment for her protection both prior to the wrongful retention, for the return application, as well as at the seisin, for access rights.

In sum, we generally agree with the guidance provided by the CJEU in that factual proximity should be considered a fulfilling principle for the child’s habitual residence and best interests determination in the context of child civil abduction. In this way, the CJEU has confirmed the principle encapsulated under recital 12, Brussels IIA, overcoming the current debate, which is conversely present under the Hague Convention 1980 where the child’s best interests should not be assessed [comprehensively] for the return application (HCCH, Guide to Good Practice Child Abduction Convention: Part VI – Article 13(1)(b); a contrario, European Court of Human Rights, Michnea v. Romania, no. 10395/19, 7 October 2020). However, it is argued (partly disagreeing with the CJEU statement) that primary focus should be addressed to the mutable personal integration in a better suited social and family environment acquired within the period between the child’s birth and the return application (cf. CJEU, HR, C-512/17, 28 June 2018, § 66; L v. M, 2019, EWHC 219 (Fam), § 46). The indefinite retention of jurisdiction, following abduction, should only be a secondary element for the transfer of jurisdiction in favour of the child’s new place of settlement after the wrongful removal/ retention to a third State. In practice, it is submitted that if the child had moved to India due to forced removal/ retention by her mother, with no further personal integration established in India, or with it being maintained in England, founded on the child’s best interests, the coordinated jurisdictional framework of articles 8 and 10 (and possibly article 12.4) of the Brussels IIA Regulation might have still been retained as applicable (cf. Opinion of Advocate General Rantos, § 58-59; as a comparative practice, see also L v. M, and to some extent Cour de cassation, civile, Chambre civile 1, 17 janvier 2019, 18-23.849, 5°). That said, from now on the CJEU reasoning should be binding for the EU26 national courts. Therefore, article 10 shall only apply to intra-EU26 cross-border proceedings, unlike articles 8 and 12 governing EU26-third State scenarios.

(published by Oxford University Press, 2020)

The authors kindly provided the following summary: 

The book marries two fields of law: negotiable instruments and choice-of-law. Bills of exchange, cheques and promissory notes are the main classical negotiable instruments. For centuries, these instruments have played a vital role in the smooth operation of domestic and international commerce, including in transactions between distantly located parties. Through their evolution, fusion, and sophistication, they have remained one of the primary tools for everyday commercial activity, serving as one of the primary methods of payment and credit and one of the cornerstones of the contemporary bank-centred system. The rapid technological progress of payment mechanisms has embraced the traditional institution of negotiable instruments leading to their further adaptation and sophistication in order to meet the challenges of the contemporary reality of frequent mobility of people, goods, and high daily volumes of cross-border transactions and international commerce.

The cross-disciplinary partnership between the authors, one specializing in negotiable instruments and the other in choice-of-law, aims to offer a comprehensive and thorough analysis of the choice-of-law rules applicable to negotiable instruments. The internal structure of negotiable instruments’ law is complex, which has given rise to a popular view favouring the mythological ‘law merchant’,[1] the exclusion of negotiable instruments from the scope of general contract and property law doctrines, and their subsequent exclusion from ordinary choice-of-law analysis.

The central thesis of the book is to challenge this common view. Indeed, the complex structure of negotiable instruments creates a significant challenge for traditional contract and property doctrine and the choice-of-law analysis applicable to them. Yet, in contrast to the common view, the authors argue that the complex case of international negotiable instruments should be analyzed through the lens of traditional contract & property choice-of-law doctrines rather than by crafting new specially designed rules for negotiable instruments.

In order to illustrate this point, consider the – well-known in choice-of-law literature – Giuliano & Lagarde Report (‘The Report’),[2] which has served as a basis for contemporary European Rome Regulations[3] on the question of applicable law. The Report excludes negotiable instruments law from the scope of ordinary choice-of-law analysis.[4]However, one can reassess the three rationales mentioned in the Report to justify negotiable instruments’ law exclusion. First, it makes a point that a negotiable instrument is not a contract.[5] In this book, the authors argue the opposite – from their very origin to their present-day doctrinal analysis, negotiable instruments are very much contracts and carefully follow the essentials of contract law doctrine, alongside the basic elements of tangible property law.[6]

 Second, the Report characterizes a negotiable instrument as a ‘complex contract’.[7] Indeed, in their study the authors provide a precise demarcation of the special nature of the negotiable instrument as a ‘special’ contract to delineate its divergence from the ‘ordinary’ contract; its relation to basic elements of tangible property transfer; and how this divergence affects (if at all) the choice- of- law rules of negotiable instruments, comparatively to choice-of-law rules of ‘ordinary’ contracts and tangible property. While throughout their book the authors show that negotiable instruments present ‘complicated special rules’ that should be analyzed, modified and distinguished from ‘ordinary’ contract law/property law rules, they are very much based on them.

Finally, the Report makes a reference to the existing harmonization processes.[8] In this book, the authors provide a detailed comparative analysis of the various rules in diverse legal systems and they show that they are far from uniform.[9] The authors discuss the various harmonization processes of negotiable instruments,[10] and make some suggestions for possible reforms within the process of international harmonization of the choice-of-law rules,[11] which would capture the challenges of the digital age.[12]  In contrast to the Report, the authors argue that the traditional choice-of-law rules in the areas of contract law and tangible property can serve as a model for such reform of choice-of-law rules of negotiable instruments.

In effect, authors’ call for a redesign of the present choice-of-law rules relating to negotiable instruments finds traces in contemporary literature.  The commentators of one of the leading textbooks in the field have framed the need for a reconsideration of the choice-of-law rules of negotiable instruments in the following terms:

…it must be noted that the Bills of Exchange Act 1882 and much of the case referred to in the following paragraphs is now more than a century old. In that time, the role and significance of bills of exchange in commercial intercourse and the approach of the conflict of laws to freely incurred obligations such as these has changed radically. As the following commentary makes clear, the rules contained in the 1882 Act are neither comprehensive nor easy to understand and apply. A radical overhaul of the law in this area, whether by legislation or international convention, seems long overdue.[13]

In this book, the authors are indeed willing to take up the challenge of a ‘radical overhaul’.  In line with the above-stated quotation, they suggest a radical reorientation of choice-of-law rules. They argue that choice-of-law rules in the area of international negotiable instruments need to be dramatically amended and harmonized.

The contemporary choice-of-law rules within this area of law have originated from flawed premises about the nature of the subject. Further, contemporary rules have left behind the modern development of choice-of-law doctrine. Relying on the foundation of negotiable instruments’ law within the traditional ordinary doctrines of contract and movable property and invoking developments within modern choice-of-law thought, the authors endeavour to challenge the traditional orthodoxy and offer a complete re-examination of the choice-of-law rules of negotiable instruments.

[1] See Chapter II.

[2] Report on the Convention on the law applicable to contractual obligations by Mario Giuliano, Professor, University of Milan, and Paul Lagarde, Professor, University of Paris I, Official Journal C 282, 31/10/1980 P. 0001 – 0050.

[3] Commission Regulation (EC) 593/2008 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 17 June 2008 on the Law Applicable to Contractual Obligations (Rome I), 2008 O.J. (L 177) 6 (EU);  Commission Regulation 864/2007, on the Law Applicable to Non-Contractual Obligations (Rome II), 2007 O.J. (L 199) 40 (EC)

[4] Giuliano & Lagarde Report, sec. 4.

[5] Ibid.

[6] See Chapter I & Chapter II.

[7] Report, sec. 4.

[8] Ibid.

[9] See Chapter I.

[10] See Chapter I & Chapter III.

[11] See Chapters V-VII.

[12] See Chapter VIII.

[13] Lawrence Collins (ed) Dicey, Morris and Collins on the Conflict of Laws (15th edn Sweet & Maxwell 2012) 2077.

Written by Marcus Teo (Sheridan Fellow (Incoming), National University of Singapore)

Since Foster v Driscoll [1929] 1 KB 470, common law courts have recognised that contracts made with the intention to commit a criminal offence in a foreign state are unenforceable, even if the contract contemplated an alternative mode or place of performance. However, recent developments in domestic law illegality have sparked debate on whether foreign law illegality too should be reformed in a similar light (see Ryder Industries Ltd v Chan Shui Woo [2016] 1 HKC 323, [36], [52]-[55]; cf Magdeev v Tsvetkov [2020] EWHC 887 (Comm), [331]-[332]). The debate, however, has thus far not considered whether foreign law illegality should expand to bar certain non-contractual claims – a question which the Singapore Court of Appeal’s recent decision in Jonathan Ang v Lyu Yan [2021] SGCA 12 raises.

Lyu Yan wanted to transfer money from China to Singapore. Her bank in Singapore introduced her to Joseph Lim for assistance. Joseph proposed that Lyu transfer Renminbi from Lyu’s Chinese bank account to the Chinese bank accounts of two other individuals, Jonathan Ang and Derek Lim. Jonathan and Derek would then transfer an equivalent sum in Singapore Dollars from their Singapore bank accounts to Lyu’s Singapore bank account. Lyu performed the transfer in China, but received no money in Singapore. She then sued Joseph for breach of contract; and sued Joseph, Jonathan and Derek in tort and unjust enrichment. At first instance, the Singapore High Court ruled against all three defendants. Joseph did not appeal, but Jonathan and Derek did, arguing, inter alia, that Foster barred Lyu’s non-contractual claims against them because Chinese law prohibited their transaction.

Andrew Phang JCA, who delivered the Court’s judgment, dismissed Jonathan and Derek’s appeal. It was undisputed that the transaction, if performed, would have violated Chinese law (See Lyu Yan v Lim Tien Chiang [2020] SGHC 145, [15]-[16]). However, Lyu did not intend to break Chinese law – the facts at their “highest” showed that she thought the transaction contravened Singapore law rather than Chinese law (Jonathan Ang, [18], [20]). Thus, since Foster does not apply if the claimant does not intend to contravene a specific foreign law, it was inapplicable.

Of interest, though, were Phang JCA’s obiter comments: if Lyu had known the transaction contravened Chinese law, would her non-contractual claims be barred? Foster, he noted, was “not applicable in relation to non-contractual claims” ([26]). This was contrasted with the position in domestic law illegality, where an illegality affecting a contract could sometimes also bar other non-contractual claims arising from the contractual relationship ([27]-[28]). Here, Phang JCA referenced Ochroid Trading Ltd v Chua Siok Lui [2018] 1 SLR 363, where the Court of Appeal had held that claims in unjust enrichment (and, potentially, tort) arising from a contractual relationship would be barred if it stultified the policy underlying the law which rendered the contract unenforceable (Ochroid Trading [145]-[159], [168])

Phang JCA then considered whether Foster and Ochroid Trading could be “read together” (Jonathan Ang, [30]) – i.e., whether foreign and domestic law illegality, as separate doctrines, could apply on the same facts. This could only happen when Singapore law was the lex contractus, because, while Foster barred contract claims “regardless of their governing laws”, Ochroid Trading barred only claims governed by Singapore law. If indeed Foster and Ochroid Trading were “read together”, however, “possible difficulties” arose, because it would put a plaintiff with a Singapore law contract in a worse position than a plaintiff with a foreign law contract: the former would potentially have both his contractual and non-contractual claims barred, while the latter would have only his contractual claim barred ([33]). To Phang JCA, this was undesirable, because there was “no principled reason” for this distinction ([34]). While Phang JCA did not attempt to resolve these “difficulties”, he concluded by noting that for both foreign law and domestic law illegality “the concept of policy serves as a limiting factor to ensure that the illegality involved does not inflexibly defeat recovery where such recovery is justified” ([34]) – presumably, then, Phang JCA was noting tentatively that recourse to public policy arguments might help ameliorate the differences between the two classes of plaintiffs he identified.

Phang JCA’s comments in Jonathan Ang raise more questions than answers; this was of course by design, given their tentative and exploratory nature. However, with respect, the correctness of some of the assumptions Phang JCA relied on may be doubted. First, one may only conclude that there is no “principled reason” for treating plaintiffs with Singapore law contracts differently from plaintiffs with foreign law contracts if one accepts that domestic and foreign law illegality share the same “principled” basis. However, Foster’s principled basis remains shrouded in uncertainty: courts and commentators have variously called it a doctrine of public policy, comity and international jurisdiction, but only the first conception of Foster aligns it with domestic law illegality. Second, while it is true that the public policies of the forum limit both domestic and foreign law illegality, those public policies perform that function in different ways in those two contexts. In domestic law illegality, courts ask whether barring the plaintiff’s claim would give effect to the forum’s public policies; but in foreign law illegality, courts ask whether denying recognition of the relevant foreign law, and thus allowing the plaintiff’s claim, would give effect to the forum’s public policies. It follows that public policy arguments may not consistently resolve differences between the two classes of plaintiffs identified by Phang JCA.

At base, the questions posed in Jonathan Ang (and the assumptions they relied on) were only relevant because of Phang JCA’s continued acceptance of one central proposition: that foreign law illegality bars only contractual claims. Yet, this proposition is doubtful; in Brooks Exim Pte Ltd v Bhagwandas Naraindas [1995] 1 SLR(R) 543, Singapore’s Court of Appeal considered Foster in relation to a claim for “money had and received”, and found it inapplicable only because parties there did not intend to breach foreign law (Brooks Exim, [1], [14]). Moreover, the justification for limiting Foster’s rule to contractual claims remains unclear: in Jonathan Ang Phang JCA cited the English High Court’s decision in Lilly Icos LLC v 8PM Chemists Ltd [2010] FSR 4 for it, but there that proposition was simply accepted without argument (Lilly Icos, [266]). A possible justification might be that only in contract claims may parties, by virtue of their ability to choose the governing law, avoid the applicability of the (criminal) law of a foreign state objectively connected to their relationship. This, however, would be a poor justification, since parties have the autonomy to choose the governing law for various non-contractual claims as well. An expressly chosen law, for example, may govern not just parties’ contract, but also claims in unjust enrichment arising from that contractual relationship by virtue of a characterization sub-rule, and potentially also tort claims under an exception to the lex loci delicti rule (or, in Singapore’s context, the double actionability rule). If foreign law illegality exists to prevent parties from avoiding the law of a state objectively connected to their contractual relationship, it should bar all claims arising from that contractual relationship governed by parties’ chosen law, regardless of whether those claims are “contractual” or “non-contractual”.