Author Archive for Nico Artzi

What’s Wrong with Jurisprudence? Part III ǃÚFuzzy’ Social Philosophy vs. ǃÚHyper-Analytic’ Legal Philosophy

Believing, I suppose, that the best defense is an offense, Dennis Patterson replies to my observation about the current state of the discourse known as ǃÚanalytic jurisprudence’ by challenging me to provide an argument in favor of one alternative I suggested: social philosophy as informing theories about the concept of (and nature of) law. Unfortunately, my argument is book-length and not yet published, two factors that deem it inappropriate for the blogosphere. (Though I promise to send him a copy of the published work and would welcome a thoughtful review.) Following, however, is another blog-appropriate observation that I hope will advance the discussion I wished to engender with my original entry ÇƒÏ a para-academic discussion about what are the maladies of contemporary analytic jurisprudence and potential avenues for a productive discourse.

Larry Solum is unhopeful about the potential contribution of social philosophy some of which he finds to be ǃÚobscure’ and ǃÚfuzzy’. It is my suggestion, however, that analytic legal philosophy, is hyper-analytic. Specifically, it is my impression that analytic philosophers are uncomfortable with the fact that pre-theoretical insights inform grand theories of law. I suspect that all greatly innovative theorists first have a pre-theoretical insight. Then, they figure out what methodology to apply in order to put such insights to the test. Hart had a brilliant insight: law as a system of secondary and primary rules. Dworkin had a great insight: integrity has to be a central element of law and its theory. Raz, luckily for us, stumbled upon the notion that the concept of law is closely linked to, embedded in a net of concepts with, the concept of authority, and so forth. To some (probably those closer to the social sciences generally, and critique-of-ideology in particular), it may be trivial that this is the process of theorizing – a creative process. But most jurisprudes tend to resist this notion. Talking to jurispurdes, and reading much of the methodological debates in analytic legal philosophy, one gets the impression that most jurisprudes believe that methodology and substance are actually, as opposed to analytically, distinct. In other words, while the distinction has great instrumental value, there is not, in fact, a clear and crisp distinction between substance and method. The distinction should only be used as long as it clarifies more than it obscures, but one should always keep in the back of their minds its limitations.

The need to believe that purely analytic tools to the study of law and its concept exist and we just need to figure out what they are could be a result of a defensive desire to be associated with ǃÚexact’, ǃÚanalytic’ (ǃÚmasculine’) disciplines, such as general philosophy, rather than be associated with ǃÚfuzzy’, ǃÚimpressionist’ (ǃÚfeminine’) disciplines such as sociology and literature. This is akin to the historically-defensive mode of the social sciences vis-?Ü-vis the ǃÚexact’ sciences. But the fact remains that law is a social phenomenon ÇƒÏ fuzzy, slippery and obscure. Theorizing about law, in turn, is a creative process in which the (good) theorist is struck by a pre-theoretical insight and then submits it to the scrutiny of his or her chosen methodology.

What’s Wrong with Jurisprudence? Part II

An earlier entry of mine in this blog ÇƒÏ meant to provoke a discussion rather than to “argueǃ? a point ÇƒÏ has resulted in some interesting responses. I wish particularly to address the opening remark in Dennis Patterson’s response who notes that:

Anyone familiar with, say, HLA Hart’s book *The Concept of Law* could hardly characterize the book as preoccupied with the methodology of moral philosophy.

Indeed, my tongue-in-cheek entry addressed contemporary analytic legal philosophy (say, the past 15 years or so) only. I agree that Hart was actually on the right track. Famously (or notoriously), he characterized The Concept of Law as a work of ǃÚdescriptive jurisprudence.’ Unfortunately, he never quite elaborated on what he meant. Among the critiques of Hart’s descriptive/sociological approach is Roger Cotterrell’s:

[Hart's theory] is, it must be said, not descriptive sociologyǃ? which should presumably be based in substantial empirical study. It is speculative philosophy not grounded in any consideration of actual social conditionsǃ? this should involve actually finding out how people talk and think and such an inquiry is not normative legal theory but sociology or social psychology.ǃ?

And Brian Leiter, who wrote that giving an account of any social fact that is the basis of the concept of law

would require jurisprudence to get up from the armchair and find out what anthropologists, sociologists, psychologists and others can tell us about the social practices in and around law.

However, it seems like attempts to do so are encountered by the group of ǃÚanalytic’ legal philosophers as doing something other than legal philosophy. Those engaged in such endeavours must attend different conferences, publish in different journals and volumes, and compete for different academic posts.

Of course, some of those engaged in “finding out how people talk and thinkǃ? about the law are engaged in something other than legal philosophy. But here is my pet peeve: social philosophy, the various abstract explanations of how social reality is constructed (e.g., Habermas’s Communicative Action theory (-the more sociological, rather than political-philosophical, aspect of his theory)), can help explain not only what law is but also what the concept of law is as a concept different than the concept of “whiteǃ? or of “tableǃ? or of “goodness.ǃ? To help think about the concept of the concept, if you will, in the context of law. This is analytic legal philosophy of the first order and an engagement with the empirical reality of law.

What’s wrong with Jurisprudence?

Even jurisprudes (analytic legal philosophers), in addition to other legal theorists, are coming to the slow and painful realization that something has gone terribly wrong in legal philosophy. Anglo-American legal philosophy is littered with circular, repetitive and quite esoteric discussions. Things have gotten so bad that some recent articles have resorted to personal attacks. (For example, Ronald Dworkin’s “Thirty Years Onǃ? and Brian Leiter’s “The End Of Empire.ǃ?) One is reminded of Henry Kissinger’s statement that the battles in academia are so bitter because the stakes are so low. Or are they?

Battles in academia are battles about ideas. Actions, such as waging wars against other nations, are taken based on ideas. Inventions are possible because someone has a new idea. Friendships and personal animosities are fueled by similarities or dissimilarities of ideas. It is therefore a matter of general concern to legal theorists and practitioners alike when legal philosophy ÇƒÏ a branch of philosophy, the “queen of disciplinesǃ?ÇƒÏ becomes a profoundly misguided discourse.

Legal philosophers are starting to identify the maladies of their field. For example, Brian Leiter rightly points out that:

“The real worry about jurisprudence… [is] that it relies on two central argumentative devices – analyses of concepts and appeals to intuition – that are epistemologically bankrupt.ǃ?

The problem, I fear, is more extensive. As observations of the communicative action of any conference in legal philosophy betray, jurisprudes have been devoutly monotheistic, worshiping a single god: the god of moral philosophy. For reasons that have to do with the history and sociology of ideas ÇƒÏ not substantive reasons ÇƒÏ jurisprudes are infatuated with moral philosophy and are forever seeking the approval of moral philosophers. Many seem to be attached to the belief that legal philosophy ÇƒÏ a philosophy of a social phenomenon ÇƒÏ can be produced using the same ǃÚmethodologies’ as those of moral philosophy.

This inferiority complex has lead to a systematic exclusion of those relating questions about the nature and the concept of law to branches of philosophy other than moral philosophy. For example, while political philosophy is considered an acceptable, albeit vaguely inferior, mooring field other branches of philosophy are practically absent from the discourse. Most notably, social philosophy. Needless to say that non-philosophical theorizing is completely out of the question. While jurisprudes are increasingly recognizing the deficiencies and confusions of their so-called ǃÚmethodologies’ they are nonetheless united in their commitment to fight off any attempt to look to other disciplines for methodological, and substantive, guidance. Is it really so surprising that the incestuous in-breeding that characterizes the field begets little monsters?

Dworkin has observed that:

“[Positivists] teach courses limited to “legal philosophy” or analytic jurisprudence in which they distinguish and compare different contemporary versions of positivism, they attend conferences dedicated to those subjects, and they comment on each other’s orthodoxies and heresies in the most minute detail in their own dedicated journals.ǃ?

Dworkin fails to acknowledge that the problem is not unique to positivists, it is prevalent among most, if not all, of analytic jurisprudence. But Dworkin is right in making the point that the problem is with the scholars and their discursive practices not with jurisprudence as such. While it is becoming increasingly en vogue to bemoan the death of jurisprudence, the problem is with the communicative action, the pattered interactions of the field: the exclusion of those who engage in philosophy other than moral (or political) from the conferences, syllabi, journals and teaching posts, and the absolute abhorrence of interdisciplinarianism.

But philosophy has been around for millennia and legal philosophy will withstand the current exclusionary practices of the philosophers. The queen is dead. Long live the queen!