Tag Archive for: conflict of laws

Denial of Natural Justice as a Defence to Enforcement of a Chinese Judgment in Australia

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In Yin v Wu [2023] VSCA 130, the Court of Appeal of the Supreme Court of Victoria set aside a judgment[1] which had affirmed the enforcement a Chinese judgment by an Associate Justice of the Supreme Court.[2] This was a rare instance of an Australian court considering the defence to enforcement of a foreign judgment on the basis that the judgment debtor was denied natural justice—or procedural fairness—before the foreign court.

Background

The dispute concerned a payment made by a Chinese national living in China, Di Wu, to a Chinese national living in Australia, Ke Yin. The payment was made pursuant to a foreign exchange agreement: Yin had promised to pay Wu a sum of US Dollars in exchange for Wu’s Chinese RMB.

The arrangement was made unusually through a series of Telegram and WhatsApp messages, from accounts with different numbers and aliases. (In Australia, we would say that the arrangement sounded ‘suss’.) The agreement was seemingly contrary to Chinese law, which may have contributed to the clandestine character of communications underlying the agreement; see [30].

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Of Hints, Cheats, and Walkthroughs – The Australian Consumer Law, The Digital Economy, and International Trade

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By Dr Benjamin Hayward

Those who enjoy playing video games as a pastime (though certainly not in the competitive esports environment) might take advantage of different forms of assistance when they find themselves stuck.  Once upon a time, they might have read up on tips and tricks printed in a physical video game magazine.  These days, they are more likely to head online for help.  They might seek out hints – tidbits of information that help point the gamer in the right direction, but that still allow them to otherwise work out a solution on their own.  They might use cheats – which allow the gamer ‘to create an advantage beyond normal gameplay’.  Otherwise, they might use a walkthrough – which, as the name suggests, might walk a player through the requirements of perhaps even ‘an entire video game’.

Despite initial appearances, these definitions do more than just tell us about recreation in general, and gaming culture in particular.  They also help us understand the state of play in relation to the Australian Consumer Law’s application to the digital economy, and, in turn, the ACL’s implications for international digital economy trade.

This video game analogy is actually very apt: gaming set the scene for recent litigation confirming the ACL’s application to off-shore video game vendors.  In the Valve case concerning the Steam computer gaming platform, decisions of the Federal Court of Australia and (on appeal) its Full Court confirmed that reach, via interpretation of the ACL’s s 67 conflict of laws provision.  The High Court of Australia denied special leave for any further appeal.  In the subsequent Sony Europe case, concerning the PlayStation Network, liability was not contested.  On the other hand, there was a live issue in Valve – at least at first instance – as to whether or not video games constitute ‘goods’ for the purposes of the ACL’s consumer guarantees.  The ACL’s statutory definition of goods includes ‘computer software’.  Expert evidence, not contested and accepted by the Federal Court, treated computer software as equivalent to executable files; which may work with reference to non-executable data, which is not computer software in and of itself.

Understanding the ACL’s definition of ‘goods’ has significant implications.  The ‘goods’ concept is a gateway criterion: it determines whether or not the ACL’s consumer guarantees apply, and in turn, whether it is possible to mislead consumers about the existence of associated rights.  So far as digital economy trade is concerned, case law addressing Australia’s regular Sale of Goods Acts confirms that purely-digital equivalents to traditional physical goods are not ‘goods’ at common law.  Any change to this position, according to the New South Wales Supreme Court, requires statutory intervention.  Such intervention did occur when the Trade Practices Act 1974 (Cth) transitioned into the Competition and Consumer Act 2010 (Cth).  Now, ‘computer software’ constitutes a statutory extension to the common law definition of ‘goods’ that would otherwise apply.

It is against all this context that a very recent decision of the Federal Court of Australia – ACCC v Booktopia Pty Ltd [2023] FCA 194 – is of quite some interest.  Whilst most of the decision is uncontroversial, one aspect stands out: the Court held, consistently with Booktopia’s admission, that eBooks fall within the scope of the ACL’s consumer guarantee protections.  This finding contributed to an AUD $6 million civil pecuniary penalty being imposed upon Booktopia for a range of breaches of the ACL.  But is it actually correct?  Whether or not that is so depends upon whether the statutory phrase ‘computer software’ extends to digital artefacts other than traditional desktop computer programs.  There is actually good reason, based upon the expert evidence tendered and accepted in the Valve litigation, to think not.

So what does the Booktopia case represent?  It could be a hint – an indication that will eventually lead us to a fully-explained understanding of the ACL’s wide reach across the digital economy.  In this sense, it might be a pointer that helps us to eventually solve this interpretative problem on our own.  Or it could be a cheat – a conclusion possibly justified in the context of this individual case given Booktopia’s admissions, but not generalisable to the ACL’s normal operation.  Either way, given the ACCC’s expressed view (not necessarily supported by the ACL’s actual text) that ‘[c]onsumers who buy digital products … have the same rights as those who shop in physical stores’, what we really need now is a walkthrough: a clear and reasoned explanation of exactly what ‘computer software’ actually means for the purposes of the ACL.  This will ensure that traders have the capacity to know their legal obligations, and will also allow Parliament to extend the ACL’s digital economy protections if its reach is actually limited in the way that my own scholarship suggests.

All of this has significant implications for international trade, as ‘many transfers’ of digital assets ‘are made between participants internationally’.  The increasing internationalisation and digitalisation of trade makes it imperative that this ambiguity be resolved at the earliest possible opportunity.  Since, in the words of the Booktopia judgment, ACL penalties ‘must be of an appropriate amount to ensure that [their] payment is not simply seen as a cost of doing business’, traders – including international traders – do need to know with certainty whether or not they are subject to its consumer protection regime.

 

Dr Benjamin Hayward
Senior Lecturer, Department of Business Law and Taxation, Monash Business School
Twitter: @LawGuyPI
International Trade and International Commercial Law research group: @MonashITICL

Supreme Court of Canada on International Child Abduction

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Written by Stephen G.A. Pitel, Faculty of Law, Western University

The Supreme Court of Canada has released its decision in F v N, 2022 SCC 51 (available here) and the decision offers some important observations about the law on international child abduction. The court held 5-4 that two young children taken by their mother from UAE to Ontario are to be returned to their father in UAE.

The father and mother were engaged in a dispute over custody rights of the children. The court noted that in the removal/return context, it was not deciding the custody issue but rather deciding which court – Ontario or UAE – would decide that issue [para 1]. Because UAE is not a party to the Convention on the Civil Aspects of International Child Abduction, the issue of whether the children should be returned to UAE arose under Ontario legislation (Children’s Law Reform Act, RSO 1990, c C.12), though the court noted similarities between the two regimes [para 52].

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Traveling Judges and International Commercial Courts

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Written by Alyssa S. King and Pamela K. Bookman

International commercial courts—domestic courts, chambers, and divisions dedicated to commercial or international commercial disputes such as the Netherlands Commercial Court and the never-implemented Brussels International Business Court—are the topic of much discussion these days. The NCC is a division of the Dutch courts with Dutch judges. The BIBC proposal, however, envisioned judges who were mostly “part-timers” who may include specialists from outside Belgium. While the BIBC experiment did not pass Parliament, other commercial courts around the world have proliferated, and some hire judges from outside their jurisdictions.

In a new paper forthcoming in the American Journal of International Law, we set out to determine how many members of the Standing International Forum of Commercial Courts hire such “traveling judges,” who they are, why they are hired, and why they serve.

Based on new empirical data and interviews with over 25 judges and court personnel, we find that traveling judges are found on commercially focused courts around the world. We identified nine jurisdictions with such courts, in Hong Kong, Singapore, Dubai, Abu Dhabi, Qatar, Kazakhstan, and the Caribbean (the Cayman Islands and the BVI), and The Gambia. These courts are designed to accommodate foreign litigants and transnational litigation—and inevitably, conflicts of laws.

One may assume that these judges largely resemble arbitrators (as was likely intended for the BIBC). But whereas studies  show arbitrators are mostly white, male lawyers from “developed” countries that may be based in the common law or civil law tradition, traveling judges are even more likely to be white and male, vastly more likely to have prior judicial experience and common-law legal training, and are overwhelmingly from the UK and its former dominion colonies. In the subset of commercially focused courts in our study, just over half of the traveling judges were from England and Wales specifically. Nearly two-thirds had at least one law degree from a UK university.

Below is a chart showing the home jurisdiction of the judges in our study.  This includes traveling judges sitting on the BVI commercial division, Hong Kong Court of Final Appeal, Dubai International Financial Centre (DIFC) Courts, Qatar International Court, Cayman Islands Financial Services Division, Singapore International Commercial Court, Abu Dhabi Global Market (ADGM) Courts, and Astana International Financial Centre (AIFC) Courts as of June 2021.

Figure 2: Traveling Judges by Home Jurisdiction Excluding Non-Commercial ECSC and The Gambia—June 2021

A look at traveling judges’ backgrounds suggests that traveling judges might be a phenomenon limited to common-law countries, but only half of hiring jurisdictions are in common law states. Almost all hiring jurisdictions, however, are common law jurisdictions. Moreover, almost all are or aspire to be market-dominant small jurisdictions (MDSJ). For example, the DIFC Courts are located in a common law jurisdiction within a non-common-law state that has been identified as a MDSJ.

Traveling judges are a phenomenon rooted not only in the rise of international commercial arbitration, but also in the history of the British colonial judicial service. Today, traveling judges may be said to bring their expertise and knowledge of best practices in international commercial dispute resolution. But traveling judges also offer hiring jurisdictions a method of transplanting well-respected courts, like London’s commercial court, on their shores. In doing so, judges reveal these jurisdictions’ efforts to harness business preferences for English common law into their domestic court systems.  They also provide further opportunities for convergence on global civil procedure norms, or at least common law ones. Many courts have adopted some version of the English Civil Procedure Rules, looking for something international lawyers find familiar and reliable. Judges also report learning from each other’s approaches.

Our article suggests that traveling judges are a nearly entirely common law phenomenon—only a handful of judges were from mixed jurisdictions and only one was a civil law judge. Common law courts may be especially amenable to traveling judges. In contrast to judges in continental civil law systems, common law judges are not career bureaucrats. They come to the judiciary late, usually after having built successful litigation practices. Moreover, the sociologist, and judge, Antoine Garapon observes that common law style-judging can be more personalized, with more room for individual authority rather than that of the office. All these differences are a matter of degree, with exceptions that come readily to mind. Still, as a result, common law judges are more likely have reputations independent of the office they serve. That reputation, in turn, is valuable to hiring governments eager to demonstrate their commercial law bona fides.

These efforts to harness English common law contrast with the efforts to build international commercial courts in the Netherlands or Belgium. The NCC advertises itself as an English-language court built on the foundation of the Dutch judiciary’s strong reputation. As such, it has no need for foreign judges or common law experience. The BIBC likely also would not have relied as heavily on retired English judges, both because its designers envisioned more lay adjudicators (not retired judges) and likely a greater civil law influence. In that sense, its roster of judges might have more closely resembled that of the new international commercial court in Bahrain.

The Dutch, Belgian, and Bahraini examples do share something else in common with the network of courts profiled in Traveling Judges, however. Despite their apparent similarities to arbitration, these courts are domestic courts, and they exist in significantly different political environments. The differences between Dutch and Belgian national politics influenced the NCC’s success in being established and the BIBC’s failure. In Belgium, for instance, the BIBC was maligned as a “caviar court” for foreign companies and the Belgian Parliament ultimately decided against the proposal. As one of us recounts in a related article on arbitration-court hybrids, similar arguments were raised in the Dutch Parliament, but they did not win the day. Several courts in our study, such as those established in the special economic zones in the UAE, did not face such constraints. But they may face others, such as how local courts will recognize and cooperate with a new court operating according to a different legal system and in a different language. The new court in Bahrain overcame local obstacles to its establishment, but it may face yet another set of political constraints and pressures as it proceeds to hear its first cases. Wherever traveling judges travel, local politics will affect both hiring jurisdictions’ ability to achieve their goals and traveling judges’ ability to judge in the way they are accustomed.

 

Conflict of Laws of Freedom of Speech on Elon Musk’s Twitter

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Elon Musk’s purchase of Twitter has been a divisive event. Commenting on the response on Twitter and elsewhere, Musk tweeted:

The extreme antibody reaction from those who fear free speech says it all

>

By “free speech”, I simply mean that which matches the law.

I am against censorship that goes far beyond the law.

If people want less free speech, they will ask government to pass laws to that effect.

Therefore, going beyond the law is contrary to the will of the people.

Ralf Michaels quote-tweeted perceptively: ‘But which law?’

Twitter and the conflict of laws

By their very nature, digital platforms like Twitter present a variety of conflict of laws issues.

‘Twitter’ is not a monolithic entity. The functionality of the social media platform with which readers would be familiar is underpinned by a transnational corporate group. Twitter, Inc is incorporated in Delaware, and has various subsidiaries around the world; Twitter International Company, for example, is incorporated in Ireland and responsible as data controller for users that live outside of the United States. The business is headquartered in San Francisco but has offices, assets, and thousands of staff around the world.

The platform is populated by 400 million users from all over the world. After the US, the top 5 countries with the most Twitter users are comprised of Japan, India, the UK and Brazil. The tweets and retweets of those users may be seen all over the world. Users have wielded that functionality for all sorts of ends: to report on Russia’s war in real-time; to coordinate an Arab Spring; to rally for an American coup d’état; to share pictures of food, memes, and endless screams; and to share conflict of laws scholarship.

Disputes involving material on Twitter thus naturally include foreign elements. Where disputes crystallise into litigation, a court may be asked to consider what system of law should determine a particular issue. When the issue concerns whether speech is permissible, the answer may be far from simple.

Free speech in the conflict of laws

The treatment of freedom of speech in the conflict of laws depends on the system of private international law one is considering, among other things. (The author is one of those heathens that eschews the globalist understanding of our discipline.)

Alex Mills has written that the balance between free speech and other important interests ‘is at the heart of any democratic political order’.[1] Issues involving free speech may thus engage issues of public policy, or ordre public,[2] as well as constitutional considerations.

From the US perspective, the ‘limits of free speech’ on Twitter is likely to be addressed within the framework of the First Amendment, even where foreign elements are involved. As regards private international law, the Securing the Protection of our Enduring and Established Constitutional Heritage (SPEECH) Act 28 USC 4101- 4105 (‘SPEECH Act’) is demonstrative. It operates in aid of the constitutional right to freedom of expression and provides that a US ‘domestic court shall not recognize or enforce a foreign judgment for defamation unless the domestic court determines that’ the relevant foreign law would provide the same protections for freedom of speech as would be afforded by the US Constitution.[3]

Other common law jurisdictions have approached transnational defamation issues differently, and not with explicit reference to any capital-c constitutional rights. In Australia, the High Court has held that the lex loci delicti choice-of-law rule combined with a multiple publication rule means that defamation is determined by the law of the jurisdiction in which a tweet is ‘available in comprehensible form’: the place or places it is downloaded.[4] In contrast, where a claim concerns a breach of confidence on Twitter, an Australian court is likely to apply the equitable principles of the lex fori even if the information was shared into a foreign jurisdiction without authorisation.[5] In either case, constitutional considerations are sidelined.

The balance to be struck between free speech on the one hand, and so-called ‘personality rights’ on the other, is a controversial issue within a legal system, let alone between legal systems. So for example, the choice-of-law rule for non-contractual obligations provided by the Rome II Regulation does not apply to personality rights, as a consensus could not be reached on point.[6] Similarly, defamation and privacy are excluded from the scope of the HCCH Judgments Convention by Art 2(1)(k)–(l).

There is a diversity of approaches to choice of law for cross-border infringements of personality rights between legal systems.[7] But the ‘law applicable to free speech on Twitter’ is an issue that goes far broader than personality rights. It touches on as many areas of law as there are aspects of human affairs that are affected by the Twitter platform. For example, among other things, the platform may be used to:

Issues falling into different areas of law may be subject to different choice-of-law rules, and different systems of applicable law. What one system characterises as an issue for the proper law of the contract could be treated as an issue for a forum statute in another.

All of this is to say: determining what ‘the law says’ about certain content on Twitter is a far more complex issue than Elon Musk has suggested.

The law applicable to online dignity

Key to the divisiveness of Musk’s acquisition is his position on content moderation. Critics worry that a laissez-faire approach to removing objectionable content on the platform will lead to a resurgence of hate speech.

Musk’s vision for a freer Twitter will be subject to a variety of national laws that seek to protect dignity at the cost of free speech in various ways. For example, in April, the European Parliament agreed on a ‘Digital Services Act’, while in the UK, at the time of writing, an ‘Online Safety Bill’ is in the House of Commons. In Australia, an Online Safety Act was passed in 2021, which provided an ‘existing Online Content Scheme [with] new powers to regulate illegal and restricted content no matter where it’s hosted’. That scheme complements various other national laws, like our Racial Discrimination Act 1975, which outlaws speech that is reasonably likely, in all the circumstances, to offend, insult, humiliate or intimidate another person or a group of people, and was done because of the race, colour or national or ethnic origin of the person or group.

When a person in the United States posts content about an Australian that is permissible under US law, but violates Australian statute, the difficulty of Musk’s position on the limits of censorship becomes clear. Diverse legal systems come to diverse positions on the appropriate balance between allowing online freedom and protecting human dignity, which are often struck with mandatory law. When your platform is frequented by millions of users all over the world, there is no single ‘will of the people’ by which to judge. Perhaps Musk will embrace technological solutions to give effect to national standards on what sort of content must be censored.

A host of other conflicts issues

Musk-era Twitter is likely to pose a smorgasbord of other issues for interrogation by conflict of laws enthusiasts.

For example: legal systems take diverse approaches to the issue of whether a foreign parent company behind a platform like Twitter can be imposed with liability, or even criminal responsibility, for content that is on the platform. While conservatives in America consider the fate of s 230 of the Communications Decency Act—a provision that means that Twitter is not publisher of content they host—other countries take a very different view of the issue. Litigation involving the companies behind Twitter is likely to engage courts’ long-arm jurisdiction.

Perhaps the thorniest conflicts problem that may emerge on Musk’s Twitter is the scope of national laws that concern disinformation. In an announcement on 25 April, Musk stated:

‘Free speech is the bedrock of a functioning democracy, and Twitter is the digital town square where matters vital to the future of humanity are debated’.

Recent years have shown that the future of humanity is not necessarily benefited by free speech on social media. How many lives were lost as a result of vaccine-scepticism exacerbated by the spread of junk science on social media? How many democracies have been undermined by Russian disinformation campaigns on Twitter? The extraterritorial application of forum statutes to deal with these kinds of issues may pose a recurring challenge for Musk’s vision.[8] I look forward to tweeting about it.

Michael Douglas is Senior Lecturer at UWA Law School and a consultant in litigation at Bennett + Co, Perth.

 

[1] Alex Mills, ‘The Law Applicable to Cross-border Defamation on Social Media: Whose Law Governs Free Speech in “Facebookistan”?’ (2015) 7 Journal of Media Law 1, 21.

[2] See, eg, International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, art 19(3).

[3] SPEECH Act s 3; United States Code, title 28, Part VI, § 4102. See generally Lili Levi, ‘The Problem of Trans-National Libel’ (2012) 60 American Journal of Comparative Law 507.

[4] Dow Jones & Co Inc v Gutnick (2002) 210 CLR 575.

[5] But see Michael Douglas, ‘Characterisation of Breach of Confidence as a Privacy Tort in Private International Law’ (2018) 41 UNSW Law Journal 490.

[6] Art 4(1); see Andrew Dickinson, The Rome II Regulation (Oxford University Press, 2008).

[7] See generally Symeon C Symeonides, Cross-Border Infringement of Personality Rights via the Internet (Brill, 2021) ch VI; Tobias Lutzi, Private International Law Online: Internet and Civil Liability in the EU (Oxford University Press, 2020) ch 4.

[8] See generally Matthias Lehmann, ‘New Challenges of Extraterritoriality: Superposing Laws’ in Franco Ferrari and Diego P Fernández Arroyo (eds), Private International Law: Contemporary Challenges and Continuing Relevance (Edward Elgar, 2019) ch 10.

Revised Canadian Statute on Jurisdiction

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Written by Stephen G.A. Pitel, Western University

Many Canadian and some other conflicts scholars will know that the Uniform Law Conference of Canada (ULCC) has drafted (in 1994) model legislation putting the taking of jurisdiction and staying of proceedings on a statutory footing. This statute, known as the Court Jurisdiction and Proceedings Transfer Act (CJPTA), has subsequently been adopted and brought into force in 4 of Canada’s 13 provinces and territories (British Columbia, Saskatchewan, Nova Scotia, Yukon).

The ULCC has now released a revised version of the CJPTA. It is available here and background information is available here.

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Ducking the Ricochet: The Supreme Court of Canada on Foreign Judgments

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Written by Stephen G.A. Pitel, Western University

The court’s decision in HMB Holdings Ltd v Antigua and Barbuda, 2021 SCC 44 (available here) is interesting for at least two reasons. First, it adds to the understanding of the meaning of “carrying on business” as a test for being present in a jurisdiction. Second, it casts doubt on the application of statutory registration schemes for foreign judgments to judgments that themselves recognize a foreign judgment (the so-called ricochet).

In this litigation HMB obtained a Privy Council judgment and then sued to enforce it in British Columbia. Antigua did not defend and so HMB obtained a default judgment. HMB then sought to register the British Columbia judgment in Ontario under Ontario’s statutory scheme for the registration of judgments (known as REJA). An important threshold issue was whether the statutory scheme applied to judgments like the British Columbia one (a recognition judgment). In part this is a matter of statutory interpretation but in part it requires thinking through the aim and objectives of the scheme.

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HCCH Monthly Update: August 2021

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Conventions & Instruments

On 23 July 2021, New Zealand deposited its instrument of ratification of the HCCH 2007 Child Support Convention. With the ratification of New Zealand, 42 states and the European Union are bound by the Child Support Convention. It will enter into force for New Zealand on 1 November 2021. More information is available here.

On 1 August 2021, the HCCH 1996 Child Protection Convention entered into force for Costa Rica. It currently has 53 Contracting Parties. More information is available here.

Meetings & Events

As announced on 3 August 2021, registration for the 12th International Forum on the electronic Apostille Programme (e-APP) is now open to the general public. The event will be hosted online on 4 October 2021. The deadline for registration is Friday, 10 September 2021, 5.00 p.m. CEST. More information is available here.

On 9 August 2021, the HCCH and the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights of the Organization of American States co-hosted a webinar on international child abduction.

On 19 August 2021, the HCCH, the Council of ASEAN Chief Justices and the Malaysian Judiciary co-hosted a virtual HCCH-ASEAN Masterclass. More information is available here.

Other

Vacancy: Applications are now open for three- to six-month legal internships from January to June 2022. The deadline for the submission of applications is 24 September 2021 (18:00 CEST). More information is available here.

Reminder: Submissions for the HCCH|Approach Essay Competition and the HCCH|Approach Media and Design Competition are due on 1 October 2021. The competitions are organised as part of the Advancing and Promoting the Protection of All Children (Approach) Initiative, launched in celebration of the 25th anniversary of the HCCH 1996 Child Protection Convention. More information is available here.

 

These monthly updates are published by the Permanent Bureau of the Hague Conference on Private International Law (HCCH), providing an overview of the latest developments. More information and materials are available on the HCCH website.

Defending the Rule in Antony Gibbs

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By Neerav Srivastava

 

The Rule in Antony Gibbs[1] (‘the Rule’) provides that if the proper law of a contract is Australian, then a discharge of the debt by a foreign jurisdiction will not be a discharge in Australia unless the creditor submitted to the foreign jurisdiction.[2] The Rule is much maligned, especially in insolvency circles, and has been described as “Victorian”.[3] In ‘Heritage and Vitality: Whether Antony Gibbs is a Presumption’[4] I seek to defend the Rule.

Presumption

The article begins by arguing that, in the modern context, that the Rule should be recognised as a Presumption as to party intentions.

Briefly, Gibbs was decided in the 1890s. At the time, the prevailing view was that the proper law of a contract was either the law of the place of the contract or its performance.[5] This approach was based on apportioning regulatory authority between sovereign States rather than party intentions. To apply a foreign proper law in a territory was regarded as contrary to territorial sovereignty. Freedom of contract and party intentions were becoming relevant to proper law but only to a limited extent.[6]

As for Gibbs, Lord Esher’s language is consistent with the ‘Regulatory Approach’:

It is clear that these were English contracts according to two rules of law; first, because they were made in England; secondly, because they were to be performed in England. The general rule as to the law which governs a contract is that the law of the country, either where the contract is made, or where it is to be so performed that it must be considered to be a contract of that country, is the law which governs such contract …[7]

Notice that the passage makes no reference to party intentions.

By the early 20th century, the position had evolved in that it was generally accepted that party intentions determined the proper law.[8] Even so, it was not until the late 1930s that the Privy Council stated that the position was “well-settled”.[9] Party intentions has evolved into being the test for proper law universally.[10]

Under the modern approach, party intentions as to proper law are a question of fact and not territorial. Parties are free to choose a proper law of a jurisdiction with which they have no connection.[11] As a question of fact, party intentions are better understood as a ‘Presumption’. Further, the Presumption might be displaced. The same conclusion can be reached via an implied term analysis.

The parties can also agree that there is more than one proper law for a contract. That, too, is consistent with party autonomy. Under depeçage, one law can govern a contract’s implementation and another its discharge.[12] Likewise, the Second Restatement in the US[13] and the International Hague Principles allow a contract to have multiple proper laws.[14]

Cross-border Insolvency

The second part of the article addresses criticisms of Gibbs by cross-border insolvency practitioners. In insolvency, issues are no longer merely between the two contracting parties. The body of creditors are competing for a share of a company’s remaining assets. Under pari passu all creditors are to be treated equally. If a company is in a foreign liquidation, and its discharge of Australian debt is not recognised by an Australian court, Gibbs appears inconsistent with pari passu. Specifically, it appears that the creditor can sue in Australia and secure a disproportionate return.

That is an incomplete picture. While the foreign insolvency does not discharge the debt in Australia, when it comes to enforcement comity applies. Comity is agitated by a universal distribution process in a foreign insolvency. Having regard to comity, the Australian court will treat local and international creditors equally.[15] If creditors are recovering 50% in a foreign insolvency, an Australian court will not allow an Australian creditor to recover more than 50% at the enforcement stage. Criticisms of the Presumption do not give due weight to enforcement.

Gibbs has been described as irreconcilable with the United Nations Commission on International Trade Law Model Law on Cross-Border Insolvency 1997 (the 1997 Model Law),[16] which is generally[17] regarded as embodying ‘modified universalism’. That, it is submitted, reflects a misunderstanding.

Historically, in a cross-border insolvency “territorialism” applied.[18] Each country collected assets in its territory and distributed them to creditors claiming in those insolvency proceedings. In the past 200 years, universalism has been applied.[19] Under ‘pure universalism’, there is only one process for collecting assets globally and distributing to all creditors. Modified universalism:

accepts the central premise of [pure] universalism, that assets should be collected and distributed on a worldwide basis, but reserves to local courts discretion to evaluate the fairness of the home-country procedures and to protect the interests of local creditors …[20]

Modified universalism can be understood as a structured form of comity.[21] It asks that all creditors be treated equally but is a tent in that it allows States to choose how to protect the interest of creditors. A State may choose to couple recognition of the foreign insolvency – and the collection of assets in its jurisdiction – with the discharge of creditors’ debts. However, the 1997 Model Law does not require a State to follow this mechanism.[22] Under the Anglo-Australian mechanism (a) a debt may not be discharged pursuant to Gibbs (b), but creditors are treated equally at the enforcement stage. It is a legitimate approach under the tent that is modified universalism.

 

[1] Antony Gibbs & Sons v Société Industrielle et Commerciale des Métaux (1890) 25 QBD 399.

[2] Albert Venn Dicey, A Digest of the Law of England With Reference To The Conflict of Laws (Stevens, 1896) rule 113.

[3] Varoon Sachdev, “Choice of Law in Insolvency Proceedings: How English Courts’ Continued Reliance on the Gibbs Principle Threatens Universalism” (2019) 93 American Bankruptcy Law Journal 343.

[4] (2021) 29 Insolvency Law Journal 61. Available at Westlaw Australia.

[5] Alex Mills, Party Autonomy in Private International Law (CUP, 2018) 53, citing Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation Co v Shand (1865) 16 ER 103.

[6] Alex Mills, The Confluence of Public and Private International Law (CUP, 2009), 53.

[7] Antony Gibbs & Sons v Société Industrielle et Commerciale des Métaux (1890) 25 QBD 399, 405 (Gibbs).

[8] Alex Mills, Party Autonomy in Private International Law (CUP, 2018) 56, Lord Collins et al, Dicey, Morris & Collins, The Conflict of Laws (Sweet & Maxwell, 15th ed, 2017), [32-004]–[32-005].

[9] Vita Food Products Inc v Unus Shipping Co Ltd [1939] AC 277.

[10] Martin Davis et al, Nygh’s Conflict of Laws in Australia (Lexis Nexis, 2019), [19.6]; Lord Collins et al, Dicey, Morris & Collins, The Conflict of Laws (Sweet & Maxwell, 15th ed, 2017), [32-004]–[32-005], [32-042]; and Principles on Choice of Law in International Commercial Contracts promulgated by the Hague Conference on Private International Law in 2015.

[11] Vita Food Products Inc v Unus Shipping Co Ltd [1939] AC 277, Martin Davis et al, Nygh’s Conflict of Laws in Australia (Lexis Nexis, 2019), [19.15].

[12] Club Mediterranee New Zealand v Wendell [1989] 1 NZLR 216, Olex Focas Pty Ltd v Skodaexport Co Ltd [1998] 3 VR 380.

[13] Restatement (Second) of Contracts § 188.

[14] Principles on Choice of Law in International Commercial Contracts promulgated by the Hague Conference on Private International Law in 2015.

[15] Galbraith v Grimshaw [1910] AC 508, Chapman v Travelstead (1998) 86 FCR 460, Re HIH Casualty & General Insurance Ltd (2005) 190 FLR 398.

[16] In Australia the 1997 Model Law was extended to Australia by the Cross-Border Insolvency Act 2008 (Cth).

[17] Adrian Walters, “Modified Universalisms & the Role of Local Legal Culture in the Making of Cross-border Insolvency Law” (2019) 93 American Bankruptcy Law Journal 47, 64.

[18] Although Rares J has pointed out, “centuries earlier, maritime lawyers had developed a sophisticated and generally harmonious system of dealing with cross-border insolvencies”: Steven Rares, “Consistency and Conflict – Cross-Border Insolvency” (Paper presented at the 32nd Annual Conference of the Banking & Financial Services Law Association, Brisbane, 4 September 2015).

[19] Re HIH Casualty & General Insurance Ltd [2008] 1 WLR 852, [30]; [2008] UKHL 21.

[20] Jay Lawrence Westbrook, “Choice of Avoidance Law in Global Insolvencies” (1991) 17 Brooklyn Journal of International Law 499, 517.

[21] UNCITRAL, Guide to Enactment and Interpretation of the UNCITRAL Model Law on Cross-border Insolvency (2014) [8].

[22] Akers v Deputy Commissioner of Taxation (2014) 223 FCR 8; [2014] FCAFC 57. See too Re Bakhshiyeva v Sberbank of Russia [2019] Bus LR 1130 (CA); [2018] EWCA 2802.

HCCH Monthly Update: July 2021

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Membership

On 1 July 2021, Mongolia deposited its instrument of acceptance of the Statute, becoming the 89th Member of the HCCH. More information is available here.

Conventions & Instruments  

On 3 July 2021, the HCCH 1961 Apostille Convention entered into force for Jamaica. It currently has 120 Contracting Parties. More information is available here.

On 30 July 2021, the HCCH 1970 Evidence Convention entered into force for Georgia. It currently has 64 Contracting Parties. More information is available here.

Meetings & Events

From 5 to 9 July 2021, the Experts’ Group on Parentage/Surrogacy met for the ninth time, via videoconference. The Group discussed the scope of the possible draft Convention on legal parentage and the scope of the possible draft Protocol on legal parentage established as a result of an (international) surrogacy arrangement. More information is available here.

On 27 July 2021, the Permanent Bureau announced that Edition 2021 of HCCH a|Bridged will be dedicated to the HCCH 2005 Choice of Court Convention and held online on 1 December 2021. More information is available here.

On 28 July 2021, the Permanent Bureau launched the Advancing and Promoting the Protection of All Children (Approach) Initiative, in celebration of the 25th anniversary of the HCCH 1996 Child Protection Convention. As part of this initiative, the Permanent Bureau is organising two competitions: the HCCH|Approach Essay Competition and the HCCH|Approach Media and Design Competition. Submissions are due on 1 October 2021. More information is available here.

Publications & Documentation

On 2 July 2021, the Permanent Bureau announced the publication of translations, in Albanian, Macedonian, and Bosnian-Serbian-Montenegrin languages, of the Explanatory Report on the HCCH 2019 Judgments Convention. These are the first available translations after the official publication of the Explanatory Report in October 2020. They were supported by the Deutsche Gesellschaft für Internationale Zusammenarbeit (GIZ), Open Regional Fund for South East Europe – Legal Reform (ORF – Legal Reform). More information is available here.

 

These monthly updates are published by the Permanent Bureau of the Hague Conference on Private International Law (HCCH), providing an overview of the latest developments. More information and materials are available on the HCCH website.