In April 2019, member-states of UNCITRAL Working Group III requested the UNCITRAL Secretariat to undertake preparatory work for a Code of Conduct for Investor-State Dispute Settlement focusing on the implementation and enforceability of such a code. This groundbreaking development signals that, for the first time, a consensus exists that a code of ethics for Investor-State dispute settlement is desirable and needed. This contribution addresses three threshold questions that such preparatory work raises, namely: the preferred form of the code, the code's substantive reach, and the optimal process for bringing a code to fruition. As set out below, we urge that states adopt a mandatory common code of ethics for disputes involving states, and that arbitral institutions adopt this code as part of their rules for administering arbitration.

Most Latin American countries are in the process of implementing international anticorruption standards, including standards for combating corporate corruption. Primarily based on the U.S. experience with the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act (FCPA), these international standards for combating corporate corruption are coalescing into a standardized paradigm, which requires states to establish corporate liability regimes that incentivize companies to prevent, self-police, and cooperate with law enforcement authorities in exchange for more lenient sanctions.

While the United States has had almost fifty years of experience with anticorruption law involving transnational enforcement, Brazilian anticorruption enforcement has not yet celebrated its first decade. In the notorious Car Wash case, however, Brazil is wrestling with the largest anticorruption investigation ever. The Car Wash case has resulted in numerous claims brought by a host of domestic agencies and foreign governments, many of which lack experience in anticorruption law. This essay argues that the Car Wash case reveals the weaknesses of the transnational anticorruption legal apparatus in Brazil. At both the national and transnational levels, the lack of coordination and the existence of competition among different levels of authority have undermined the main pillar of the regime: the collaboration agreements and the corresponding protection granted to whistleblowers. The Car Wash case illustrates how the current transnational anticorruption legal regime fails to promote order over disorder.

Until recently, the United Nations and regional systems of human rights protection had shown considerable reluctance to address human rights violations resulting from corruption. Instead, these actors would underline the negative impacts of corruption on human rights without identifying corruption itself as a violation of human rights. Since 2017, however, this has begun to shift. The UN, regional human rights institutions, and civil society have begun to devise concrete ways for human rights institutions and instruments to better contribute to the fight against corruption. The Inter-American Court of Human Rights (“the Court”), in particular, has taken preliminary steps to establish a legal link between corruption and human rights violations.

Anticorruption treaties generally define corruption as the abuse of entrusted power for private gain. As such, global anticorruption efforts primarily target transactions involving the bribery of governmental officials. The definition excludes transactions in which multinational corporations deprive developing states of revenue by failing to pay taxes and other monies due. Yet such transactions are equally injurious to the development agenda of poor states. This essay argues that corruption should be redefined to encompass illicit financial flows, a term used by a growing network of tax and economic justice groups to refer to money that is “illegally earned, transferred or used.” Transactions such as trade misinvoicing, base-erosion, and abusive transfer pricing to illegally earn additional income undermine the ability of poor states to raise revenue for development. Expanding the definition of corruption would create a more realistic picture of the role of corporate actors and their involvement in corrupt and illicit dealings. It would also bring equivalency to the treatment of corporate actors and public officials. By focusing on illicit dealings involving corporate actors, this essay challenges the partial definition of corruption adopted in the heyday of the Washington Consensus, when skepticism about the role of the state, rather than of private actors, prevailed.

With the rise of corruption as a subject of international instruments and the convergence of obligations around its prevention, detection, and remediation in both the public and private sectors, corruption has increasingly figured as an issue in international arbitration. Indeed, its acceptance as a public policy issue at both the international and transnational levels has resulted in the need for tribunals, in both commercial and investor-state disputes, to grapple with questions of jurisdiction, admissibility, and consequences, as well as standards of proof. As this essay demonstrates, the challenges presented by the issue of corruption pose special difficulties for arbitration. Time will tell if tribunals will move from their current largely binary, all-or-nothing approach to a more nuanced one based on proportionality.

Political corruption is a massive barrier to economic development and good governance. International institutions have become leaders in the effort to combat the problem. A growing number of such institutions have crafted official anticorruption rules, procedures and policies designed to deter the abuse of power within their membership and within institutional practice. Despite these regulatory developments, little is known about the role these institutions play in influencing corruption or whether the growing set of governance rules now in place have any effect.

Since the explosion of the human rights movement in the early 1970s, civil-society organizations have played a key role in the inter-American human rights system (IAS). In the era of dictatorships, they provided the information necessary for the Inter-American Commission to be able to act in the face of uncooperative states. When democracy returned to the region, these organizations grew in number, and their role within the IAS likewise expanded. In particular, a set of organizations that focused on legal strategies and the activation of regional human rights protection mechanisms cropped up. These organizations have, at a more abstract and general level, contributed to the juridification of human rights struggles and ultimately to the creation of a legal field. They have also largely set the agenda of the IAS, although the agenda-setting power has been limited to a small number of organizations that constitute the system's “repeat players.” In a manner befitting their systemic importance, these organizations have tried to make sure the organs of the IAS run smoothly, and to defend them when they come under attack. This essay explores the different roles that human rights NGOs have played in the history of the IAS and suggests that the strategy of increasing juridification that they have pursued since the region's return to democracy might have reached its limits.

Christian Evangelicals are a growing political force in Latin America. Most recently, they have engaged the Inter-American Court of Human Rights to challenge basic LGBTI achievements, such as same-sex marriage and other demands for equal rights. Several commentators thus speak of an imminent showdown between human rights protections and Christian Evangelism in the region, which would mirror similar conflicts elsewhere in the world. This essay challenges this narrative and warns against a top-down “secular fundamentalism,” which may alienate a significant part of the region's population and create deep resentment against the Court. As it turns forty, the Court faces a “spiritual” crisis: conservative religious movements have become one of its key interlocutors, with demands and expectations that compete with (but could also complement) those of other regional social movements. Difficult as it may be, the Court needs to be bold in creating argumentative spaces that allow for the Evangelical experience to exist in the public sphere in Latin America, in a context of respect for human rights in general, and for LGBTI rights in particular.

A decade ago, the Inter-American Court of Human Rights issued a landmark judgment in the case of González and Others (“Cotton Field”) v. Mexico, which addressed the abduction and subsequent sexual murder of three young women in the industrial border city of Ciudad Juárez—a place known for systematic gender violence and impunity. For the victims’ next of kin and the feminist and human rights activists involved in the litigation, the murders constituted feminicidios (feminicides). The resulting judgment has been celebrated not only for developing new standards for women's human rights internationally, but also for its domestic impact in the form of innovative feminist laws and policies in Mexico and other Latin American countries. With a focus on Cotton Field’s impact on Mexico, this essay explores the potential rise of the “formally feminist state”—a state that adopts domestic feminist legislation and policies but then resists their implementation—as a new player on the stage of the inter-American human rights system (IAS). Drawing on insights from American sociolegal analyses on judicial deference to the presence of policies and institutional mechanisms as indicators of compliance with antidiscrimination laws, I suggest that this new player may create a different set of challenges for courts in assessing states’ lack of compliance with norms on women's human rights.

The inter-American human rights system (IAS) faces a region that has turned distinctly hostile to human rights. For many, the ongoing crisis in Venezuela is ground zero, demonstrating the ineffectiveness of international human rights when confronted with an entrenched regime supported by major powers such as Russia and China. In this multipolar world, reinforced by a transactional and antiliberal U.S. foreign policy, human rights concerns seem to have little salience. Moreover, the regional Right-wing trend and the so-called populist resurgence underpin a political vision in the Americas that is distinctly antirights. And to make matters worse, some argue, we are anyway in the end-times of human rights—the age of international courts and liberal cosmopolitanism is over. While recognizing that these overlapping political trends pose clear challenges to the IAS, this essay offers a more cool-headed analysis to suggest that the system's future is likely to be less apocalyptic than the doomsayers predict. The first part of the essay takes a sober look at the multiple political challenges facing the IAS today and their implications for human rights advocacy. In the second part, against the background of the inhospitable conditions facing human rights activists in the region, I highlight the role of civil-society actors in strengthening and embedding the IAS. As it is precisely the regional embeddedness of the IAS on which the system's future hinges, the third part highlights the need not only to defend progress, but also to strengthen resilience.

In 2009, as the American Convention on Human Rights turned forty, Left-wing governments ruled in almost all Latin American countries. The democratization wave that began in the late 1980s had produced a seemingly hegemonic turn to the Left—the so-called “Pink Tide.” A decade later, the political landscape was radically different. With only a few exceptions, Right-wing governments are in power throughout Latin America. The implications of the conservative wave have been felt in a number of areas—including human rights. This essay explores the ways in which the new conservative governments of Latin American have tried to curb the inter-American human rights system and examines the potential long-term consequences that their efforts may have on the regional system and the protection of human rights. It then suggests possible avenues for sound engagement between states and the system, observing that the Inter-American Court's expansive case law may cause more harm in the long run.

A topic motivating much research since 2016 is the turn away from international law caused by a surge in non-liberal and nationalist governments across the world. In the realm of human rights law, scholars have noted how states are now more apt to repudiate, resist, or simply ignore their human rights obligations. This essay makes a different cut into this topic. It considers not how non-liberal actors reject human rights law, but rather what happens when they embrace it. International human rights law in Latin America—often understood as a means of promoting a cosmopolitan, liberal political order—is also being harnessed toward other types of political projects. This raises the question of how necessary the link is between human rights and political liberalism: is non-liberal engagement an existential threat, or can human rights law have a thinner commitment to liberal principles than does, for example, national constitutional law? As the American Convention on Human Rights (ACHR) turns fifty, this essay argues that the human rights law of the Americas is open-ended enough that it can incorporate, and has at times incorporated, non-liberal concerns and norms without losing coherence or legitimacy. Further, this may be an apt survival strategy, albeit not the only one, for the region's human rights institutions in our time.

The economic mandate of the “misnamed” International Labour Organization (ILO) has long been “othered” internationally. The ILO's 1944 constitutional annex, the Declaration of Philadelphia, confirms the ILO's “responsibility … to examine and consider all international economic and financial policies and measures in the light of th[e] fundamental objective” of lasting peace on the basis of social justice. After 1945, through decolonization, and prior to the emergence of a Washington consensus-based neoliberal globalization, the ILO enabled some states to mediate the “social” in economic regulation—that is, to adopt free trade economic liberalism promoted transnationally with social redistribution addressed domestically, also referred to as embedded liberalism. States established and harmonized international labor standards through multilateral processes steeped in an organizational tripartism that made workers’ and employers’ representatives ILO institutional actors alongside governments. At least in the global North, the ILO fostered a high degree of normative convergence nationally, regionally, and on shop floors. For the first Director-General, Albert Thomas, the ILO “taught the world to speak something like the same language on social questions.” Its approach has been nuanced, pragmatic, and transnational, taking leadership on issues like social protection that should also have been—but were not—the focus of other international economic institutions.

International organizations rarely die, but they often become irrelevant. The mere fact of the International Labour Organization's (ILO's) survival thus says little about its accomplishments or impact. Yet the ILO has a rich history of reinventing itself in response to shifts in global labor conditions, and it has responded to those changes with legal and policy innovations that once attracted widespread attention and praise but have recently been met mostly with indifference.

Domestic laws are shaped by myriad global governance projects, which may attract the support of different organizations, promote contrasting socioeconomic visions, and operate at diverse levels and scales. Beyond differences in their whos, whats, and wheres, governance projects are also differentiated by their hows: they may embody different ways of imagining relations between order, authority, and legitimacy; operate through different styles; or deploy different technologies. International legal regimes, which function through a logic of governance that applies norms sanctioned by the political consent of states, have long operated alongside “systems of management and control” drawing their legitimacy from claims of “objective, disinterested scientific knowledge.”

A backlash against the post-Cold War order of liberal globalization has taken hold in the rich North Atlantic countries. Concerns about wages, working conditions, and economic opportunity are central to the critique of international trade agreements of the last three decades. While labor rights have progressively been included in trade agreements, they have done little to reshape workers’ well-being and workplace conditions. The new United States-Mexico-Canada Agreement (USMCA) may signal a pivot to a new model requiring reforms of domestic labor law and other issues important to workers. However, there is much more to be done to rebalance the power between capital and labor in trade agreements. In addition, for the United States and other rich countries, reform at home may be equally important.