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This chapter covers offences of violence, with the concept of violence encompassing both physical aggression (here termed ‘contact assaults’) and threatening behaviour (‘non-contact assaults’). The latter category includes stalking, intimidation and harassment, offending behaviours that have gained increasing social prominence and recognition by the criminal law in recent decades. Following this, the chapter turns to consideration of domestic violence, the response to which comprises a mixture of substantive and procedural law, and violence against children.Aside from the important common law principles of assault and battery, the offences under consideration here are primarily statutory and are largely, though not exclusively, contained in the states’ Crimes Acts (Crimes Act 1900 (NSW), Crimes Act 1900 (ACT), Criminal Law Consolidation Act 1935 (SA), and Crimes Act 1958 (Vic)). The title of this chapter reflects the enduring use and influence of common law assault as the base offence of violence and an underpinning concept in many offences of personal violence and other forms of unlawful intimidatory and threatening behaviour.
This chapter compares and contrasts the 1973 and 1998 Agreements that, on the face of it, are remarkably similar: both involve power-sharing and an institutional link between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland. The phrase ‘Sunningdale for slow learners’, attributed to Seamus Mallon, masks a misunderstanding of the fundamental differences between the two Agreements. The former Agreement looked to establish a Council of Ireland with executive powers that had the potential to evolve into an embryonic all-Ireland government; the latter Agreement established a consultative North-South Ministerial Council with no executive powers that could not evolve into a united Ireland by incremental moves. This was the key to Unionist acceptance of the Good Friday Agreement (GFA) in comparison to Unionist rejection of the Sunningdale Agreement. In constitutional terms the GFA was a Unionist settlement that secured Northern Ireland’s position within the United Kingdom, recognised British sovereignty in Northern Ireland and established that a united Ireland could only be achieved on the basis of the principle of consent. In contrast the Sunningdale Agreement was, in constitutional terms, a Nationalist settlement that did not recognise Northern Ireland was part of the UK and attempted to bypass the principle of consent by establishing powerful North-South bodies. The chapter argues that the only thing the two Agreements has in common was a power-sharing element for the government of Northern Ireland.
Contemporary attempts to bring 'meaningfulness' to democracy through the use of mechanisms such as 'cultural rights' often distort the original intent of democracy. In John Locke's case, the cultural attempts was primarily to limit the concentration of political power. Modern romanticism is a response to the more contemporary manifestation of epistemological relativism. But the German Romantics, tellingly, were not democrats, and did not have to worry about how to fit their ideas within a democratic framework. The current romanticization of democracy is closely tied to the development of the concept of autonomy. The best form of democracy for a globalized world is thus one in which clear and impartial institutions permit individuals enough room to sort out subjective issues like 'meaningfulness' in their own way. A more familiar justification for sovereignty rests solely upon domestic political relations, specifically the consent of the governed.
This chapter discusses why, politically, the currency of democracy has become inflated. The objective of democracy in a contemporary world is an attempt to find a way for individuals and cultures with different sets of values to function in a world of increasing globalization. The inflationary expansion of democracy can perhaps be addressed by examining four particular characteristics of the 'new world order'. They are theoretical modeling, state actors and the preservation of sovereignty, new role of Bretton Woods institutions, and new role of non-governmental organizations. The two most powerful threats to democracy as a means of diffusing power are claims to private property and cultural legitimacy. Like many superb pharmaceuticals, what is therapeutic in measured doses is toxic in much larger ones. Critics of the postmodern position generally view the arguments regarding the conflicting interpretations of reality as ephemeral and generally inconsequential.
A defendant wishing to defeat or reduce liability pursuant to a claim in negligence can prove a relevant defence. The key defences are contributory negligence, voluntary assumption of risk, the plaintiff’s own intoxication, engagement in dangerous recreational or unlawful activities, or other statutory defences such as failure to bring proceedings within the time limits prescribed by statute.Contributory negligence is the plaintiff’s own failure to meet the standard of care required for their own protection, where that failure is causally relevant to the injury. The defendant must establish that the plaintiff failed to take reasonable care for their own safety or the protection of their own interests and that this failure was a cause of their harm created by the plaintiff’s conduct. A successful defence of contributory negligence results in an apportionment of the damages between the plaintiff and the defendant.
Lord Bew has argued in his Ireland: The Politics of Enmity 1789-2006 that the failure of the power-sharing experiment in 1973-74, and especially on the proposal for a Council of Ireland, was largely the product of inflated nationalist aspirations encountering raised unionist anxieties amidst exaggerated official assumptions about what was politically achievable. These three As can be said to have fostered a fourth A - ambiguity - which was destructive of the project for political stability. If these four As together constitute a template for instability, there appears at first sight to be an irony. Has not ‘constructive ambiguity’ contributed to the enduring peace since the 1998 Belfast/Good Friday Agreement? This chapter suggests that the experience of 1973-74 still applies in Northern Ireland and that it is the absence of ambiguity which makes aspiration, anxiety and assumption institutionally manageable.
Criminal law is divided into two general categories. Substantive criminal law is concerned with the declaration of conduct that is prohibited and the calendar of associated penalties. Procedural law regulates the conduct of authorities during the investigative and trial phase of proceedings. The law of criminal procedure is divided into three broad phases: pre-trial, trial and sentencing. Each phase is governed by important policy concerns relating to due process, the right to silence, the liberty of the individual, privacy and equal treatment. Some of these policy concerns will be discussed throughout this chapter. This chapter provides a overview of some of the important aspects of criminal procedure, but readers are encouraged to consult specialists reference texts in their own jurisdiction for detail.We begin this chapter by considering the nature of summary offences, before turning to explore the concept of public peace and its associated relationship with procedure and powers. We then consider the major categories of summary offences relating to public order, before concluding with traffic offences.
The right to property is often classified as a human right demonstrating the fundamental importance attached to the concept of owning property; ‘everyone has the right to own property alone as well as in association with others [and] no one shall be arbitrarily deprived of his property.’ In this chapter, we examine the wide-ranging legal framework that gives effect to this right. In broad terms, at the state level, the framework is primarily concerned with protecting individual property rights through offences such as theft, obtaining property by deception, robbery and burglary. At the Commonwealth level, the framework is concerned with protecting Commonwealth property as well as ensuring that Australia’s obligations pursuant to international treaties are fulfilled. The property offences framework in Australian jurisdictions has been subject to consistent, ongoing reform partly motivated by the challenge of adapting existing offences to new forms of offending.
This chapter assesses the nine specific clauses in the Sunningdale Agreement that dealt with the implications for security policy in Northern Ireland. It analyses the consequences that these clauses had in Britain’s war against terrorism, especially as the Conservative government sought to shift the operational focus away from military-led counter-insurgency to a law enforcement-led counter-terrorism strategy. Although the policy of ‘police primacy’ did not emerge as Britain’s preferred option for tackling terrorism until 1975-76, this chapter argues that the seeds were sown by the British Government’s approach to the Sunningdale Agreement and the urgency by which it sought a cross-border arrangement with the Republic of Ireland that would enhance the security forces’ powers of pursuit, arrest and extradition. Indeed, the chapter asks whether the Conservative Party’s return to power in 1979 finally heralded a renewed vision for ‘police primacy’ in a more systematic way than that enacted by the Labour Government between 1974 and 1979. The chapter also highlights the theme of democratic control over the military instrument that would remain constant right up to the signing of the Anglo-Irish Agreement in 1985 and beyond. Indeed, it makes the case - pace Evelegh (1978) and Neumann (2003) – that the British government’s use of the military instrument as an option of last resort is fundamental to our understanding of Britain’s long war on Irish terrorism. This is relevant today, of course, particularly as Britain faces another (albeit much less sustained) armed challenge from dissident republicans. In conclusion, the chapter reflects on how liberal democracies more broadly have responded to the challenge posed by terrorism.
Providing physiologic support to a brain-dead pregnant decedent poses complex ethical, legal, and clinical challenges. Understanding these considerations is necessary to navigate complex discussion and provide appropriate medical care. We use a theoretical case to examine these considerations and outline a path forward.
Trespass is a very old tort that can be used to address wrongs to the person of the plaintiff and also wrongs to the property of the plaintiff. This chapter deals only with trespass to the person, which arises in the case of forcible, direct and immediate injury to the person of the plaintiff.The tort of trespass reflected the interests of the law to maintain peace. Trespass to the person could be used where the plaintiff’s interest in their person – their bodily autonomy, freedom of movement and freedom from apprehension of unlawful touching – has been injured. Unlike the later tort of ‘trespass on the case’ (or ‘case’), which evolved into the tort of negligence, trespass to the person dealt with direct interference. The distinction between ‘direct’ and ‘consequential’ actions can be difficult to draw, as can been seen by the dissent of Blackstone J in Scott v Shepherd. As we will see, even though trespass and case/negligence are two discrete causes of action, the same facts may give rise to liability in both torts.
Au sein de l’Organisation des États américains (OÉA),1 la Commission interaméricaine des Droits de l’Homme (CIDH) et la Cour interaméricaine des Droits de l’Homme sont les deux principaux organes chargés de veiller à la protection des droits de la personne dans les Amériques.2 Ces instances sont habilitées à instruire des recours individuels intentés contre des États membres et portant sur des allégations de violations de la Convention américaine relative aux Droits de l’Homme (CADH)3 et d’autres instruments interaméricains applicables.4 La présente chronique portera sur certaines décisions rendues par la Cour pendant l’année 2024.
This chapter will focus on the politico-cultural legacies of the Sunningdale Agreement, a period defined by a strange blend of strife and cooperation. It will frame the experiment as a culmination of a certain kind of O’Neillite Unionism, wrenched down by the May 1974 Ulster Workers’ Council strike. The chapter will take into account some of the early promising workings of the Assembly, such as the higher-education motion introduced in January 1974 by one of the last bastions of the Labour tradition within Northern Irish constitutional politics, David Bleakley. This will lead on to the second focus of the chapter, the political emergence of Loyalist groups and the rather more ominous (and certainly more enduring) developments arising from the illegal activities of the same groups, as the Protestant working class continued its fragmentation along class lines, between the forces of law and criminality, and even in language with the appellation ‘Loyalist’ now termed to differentiate Unionist politicians from the paramilitaries. The ambiguous cultural effect on Irish Republicanism will also be considered, exemplified by the Pearse-esque admiration for the strikers rising up against Unionist elites expressed by the Provisional IRA’s Dáithí Ó Conaill. The chapter will fuse high political material with newspapers and memoir, bringing in cultural depictions of the period – such as Stewart Parker’s play Pentecost (1987) – which provide an alternative flavour of life at the time, simultaneously highlighting how the reactions to Sunningdale were rather more complex than has hitherto been presented.