The chapter concerns the relationship between international law and domestic or municipal law. Theories of the relationship are referenced. The chapter then turns to the role of domestic or municipal law in international law, with the acceptance of the supremacy in the system of the latter. The chapter focuses, however, upon the role of international law within domestic legal systems with particular emphasis upon the UK. The various shifts in approach are noted with regard to customary international law and the current situation discussed, whereby custom constitutes a source of law and not a part of the common law upon which judges may draw. As far as treaties are concerned, these are not part of UK law unless incorporated. This avoids the situation whereby the executive may legislate merely by becoming a party to a treaty. The situation with regard to the US and other states in both the common law and civil law systems is then reviewed. The chapter ends with an examination of the doctrines of non-justiciability and act of state in various states.

While many scholars have argued that Augustine’s theology of grace underwent a shift around 418, making the grace of faith more inward, Chapter 5 proposes that instead, Augustine’s vocabulary of faith simply expands to encompass hopeful and loving faith, which are due to inward graces. Augustine’s expanded vocabulary can be seen especially through his distinction between three different senses of credere (believing). Credere Christum – believing truths about Christ – is necessary for true virtue, since faith orders actions to their ultimate end, but is not sufficient for it. Credere Christo – believing Christ – justifies when motivated by hope. Hope is both the desire for the grace to love and the first beginning of love by grace. Hope therefore explains many puzzles in Augustine’s mature theology of grace. Lastly, credere in Christum – believing in Christ – is a synecdoche for faith, hope, and love. It signifies not merely the means to righteousness but participation in Christ and the very essence of human righteousness.

The urban systems of Germany and Switzerland were characterised by the federal structure of the political system, whereas Vienna clearly was the primate city for the Habsburg territories until 1918. Urban growth was unbalanced, showing in the over-proportional growth of ‘central places’ and the rise of ‘new’ cities close to coal and iron. Despite the plutocratic nature of urban governance in German and Austrian cities, municipal government reacted to the challenges of urbanisation and industrialisation and developed a professionalised service administration catering for the basic needs of urban residents.

After 1918 German, Austrian and Swiss cities saw a very innovative period with social housing ranking high on the agenda, particularly in ‘Red Vienna’. The Great Depression and National Socialism terminated this reform period, leaving massively destroyed urban landscapes in Germany and Austria after 1945. After the Second World War, the decades until the mid-1970s were dominated by a robust economic boom, urban reconstruction and mass motorisation, whereas the period after the oil crisis saw a questioning of former engineering and planning approaches and a new appreciation of heritage.

The goal of this chapter is to introduce the concepts of American culture and anti-Indianism. It begins with a discussion of Thanksgiving, Americans’ favorite holiday, from the perspective of Wamsutta Frank James, an American Indian, activist, and leader of the Wampanoag Tribe. For Wamsutta Frank James, Thanksgiving is not a day of celebration but a day of mourning. The use of celebrations such as Thanksgiving to promote myths about US history shows the importance of American culture for Whiteness. The chapter reviews some characteristics and popular myths about American Indians and Alaska Natives, the challenges of defining culture, and culture as a system of people, places, practices, power, and purpose. It examines incorporation, appropriation, assimilation, and segregation as strategies to enforce White cultural hegemony. The chapter includes a Food for Thought section on “cancel culture” and the freedom of speech defense. It ends with a discussion of Wamsutta Frank James and reimagining US culture.

A company is a legal entity, distinct from its creators, members, directors and managers. Chapter 3 of this book discusses the separate legal status of the company in detail. For the purposes of this current chapter, we emphasise that for a company to come into existence there must be a conferral of that status by the state. Unlike some other forms of association, such as a partnership, it is not legally effective for a group of people to simply declare themselves to be a company. A company is a type of corporation. The corporate status of a company is brought into existence through a process of registration under the Corporations Act. Other types of corporate entities are created by different legislative mechanisms, and we briefly describe some of these later in this chapter.

This chapter describes the range of basic company structures available under the Corporations Act, focusing on three ways in which companies can be categorised: their proprietary or public status; how they structure the liability of their members; and their relationship to other companies. The chapter examines the role of corporate groups, as well as the difference between closely-held, one-person, and widely-held companies.

In this chapter I first present the original conception of head-movement, as developed in the 1980s by Travis (1984), Koopman (1984), and Baker (1988), along with some of the empirical domains where the operation was applied. I then present the critique of head-movement put forward in Chomsky (2001: 37-38), followed by a discussion of some of the alternatives developed subsequently. Next, I move to a consideration of how head-movement might be integrated with Chomsky’s (2013, 2015) Labeling Algorithm, suggesting that this approach is consistent with a variant of the proposals in Roberts (2010). Finally, I will attempt to develop a new proposal based on Moro and Roberts (2022).

This chapter surveys Supreme Court decisions involving the Second Amendment right “to keep and bear arms.” Nowhere is the current Court’s approach more originalist. Before 2008, the Court had never held that the Second Amendment protects a personal right to possess weapons unrelated to service in what the Amendment’s preamble characterizes as the need of “free states” for “a well-regulated militia.” This chapter describes events leading to the Court’s turnaround and analyzes its decisions since then. In applying other constitutional guarantees, the Court frequently asks whether restrictions are “narrowly tailored” to important or “compelling” governmental interests. By contrast, it insists that the permissibility of modern regulations of firearms depends exclusively on whether analogous restrictions were historically tolerated. In response to difficulties that the lower courts encountered in determining whether challenged regulations had historical analogues, the Court recently explained that precise factual similarity matters less than whether a modern restriction is “consistent with the principles that underpin our regulatory tradition.” Applying that test poses formidable challenges. But if the Court’s majority views its prescribed approach to defining Second Amendment rights as successful, it could imaginably extend its exclusive reliance on history and tradition to identify constitutional violations to other areas.

This chapter outlines the content of the written Constitution and describes the historical context, debates, and compromises from which the Constitution emerged. A central theme involves the emergence of “judicial supremacy” or the dominant role of the Supreme Court in constitutional interpretation. At the time of the Constitution’s ratification, many people believed that each of the branches of the national government would interpret the Constitution for itself. Moreover, the Supreme Court was not initially regarded as a particularly important institution. In order to explain the rise of judicial supremacy, the chapter begins to develop the idea, borrowed from political scientific literature, that the Court’s power exists within and is constrained by politically constructed boundaries that are constituted by the willingness of other institutions and ultimately the American people to accept the Court’s rulings as authoritative. In support of the argument that the Court’s power to interpret the Constitution authoritatively depends on the support of political officials and the American public, not the clear mandate or logical implications of the constitutional text, the chapter debunks the myth that the Supreme Court’s 1803 decision in Marbury v. Madison definitively settled the question of the Court’s interpretive authority.

Like Bombay and Calcutta later, Madras had an improbable start. Unprepossessing the site may have been, but by the time Francis Day resolved this was to be the first permanent settlement of the Company, he found receptive audiences in London and Bantam. Despite costs which troubled the court, work began immediately to fortify the town, and when population levels soared through the migration and settlement of native artisans and their families, it was surveyed, ordered, segregated and taxed. Importantly also, the experience of Madras threw into sharp relief the urgent need for a legitimacy grounded in jurisdictional power. Madras thus provided the means of addressing the manifold complexities associated with imposing a foreign administration of justice on a population which for the most part inhabited indigenous systems. The process was messy, pragmatic and incomplete, but by the early years of the eighteenth century, a court system was installed. Although based exclusively on an English model of municipal and legal reform, this was a system that helped to assert the sovereign authority of the Company and shaped the experiences of Bombay and Calcutta.

A “spirit of association” took hold of Brazilian businessmen and lawmakers in the Regency period of the 1830s. This spirit manifested itself in the Rio Doce Company drive, which directly inspired Brazilians to launch the first homegrown colonization companies in Salvador and Rio de Janeiro. This chapter traces the trajectory of these pioneering domestic enterprises and examines their operations and their meanings in the context of continuous logistical and political challenges both at home and abroad. Ultimately, these companies set a precedent in institutionalizing reception and conveyance mechanisms, lobbying successfully for pro-colonization policies, and collaborating with the Brazilian diplomatic corps to build a powerful international network of migrant recruitment overseas. Despite these companies’ broad appeal among quarreling elites, both faltered amid the financial crisis of 1837,. The colono trade they spurred in periodic overlap with the illegal slave trade, however, opened the door for continued undocumented migrations from the Azores.

Article 45 and Article 49 provide for the free movement of workers and self-employed people, and the free movement of companies, throughout the EU. To overcome discrimination, legislation has been adopted addressing the rights of workers concerning matters such as tax, social advantages, languages, the mutual recognition of qualifications and requiring even private employers and social partners to treat all EU citizens equally. The case law goes even further than this, addressing all kinds of measures which discourage cross-border pursuit of an occupation, something which has had a great impact on professional football and its restrictive transfer rules. European company law has been similarly turned upside down by ruling in Centros that companies can choose their state of incorporation, a decision which led to the death of the real-seat theory of company law.

This chapter begins a series of chapters on the tax treatment of dealings in interests in corporations, and particularly shares. Shares may be created, transferred and terminated (holding being dealt with in earlier chapters). This chapter deals with the creation of shares and begins with a discussion of the issue of shares for cash versus the issue of shares for non-business assets. Whatever the form of consideration provided, the assets contributed to a corporation are duplicated or reflected in the value of the shares. Shares as assets deriving their value from corporate assets and activities is a theme of the remainder of the book. With respect to contributions of assets for shares, the primary issue is whether the transfer of assets to the corporation gives rise to the taxation of build in gains for the transferor. Often countries provide relief from this charge (rollover) and in doing so challenge the separate identity of the corporation for tax purposes. The focus of the chapter is on incorporation of a business and the different ways in which countries structure qualification for relief on incorporation.

This chapter argues that enforceable decisions by treaty bodies are central to ensuring that international human rights laws are respected domestically. Taking the UK as an example, this chapter compares the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) and the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR). The chapter demonstrates that the ECHR has been used increasingly by the UK’s courts to protect individuals’ rights, and that the courts have often engaged directly with European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR) decisions. By contrast, although the courts sometimes make limited use of the ICCPR, their approach and its outcome are inconsistent. A similar pattern is observed when the UK’s compliance with both instruments is assessed. Although this may stem from a range of factors, the importance of binding judgments of the ECtHR should not be underestimated: they allow domestic courts to engage directly with a treaty body, and also create a pressure to act. Looking beyond the UK, the chapter concludes that enforceable decisions by treaty bodies have a vital role in ensuring that international human rights laws are respected, and individuals’ rights are protected.

Ordinary civilians are assumed to panic or freeze in crises, but research has shown that this is a myth. In many crises, civilians provide life-saving help to those in need. They may even form emergent groups, which are temporary organizations that are involved in crisis response activities. Their actions can be of major importance to the crisis response efforts, but professionals are often reluctant to include volunteers in formal crisis structures out of distrust and because it requires considerable adaptation. By excluding volunteers, responders are sure that trained professionals provide high-quality support to affected communities. The attitude of frontline responders to volunteers poses a dilemma. It is important to anticipate the presence of well-intentioned volunteers and build relations with them, so that their skills and intentions can be rapidly identified and potential coordination can be established early on. Civilians can be given a variety of tasks, depending on the crisis, but it should not foreclose the recognition of their possible victimhood. Open engagement enables the adaptive incorporation of civilians in frontline crisis response efforts.

Chapter 3 introduces the theoretical framework with an examination of the regime’s changing approach to labor control. It explains why the Chinese regime has moved away from overt coercion and adopted atomized incorporation and argues that the change could be understood from a political economy perspective. The empirical findings show that the central government and the local governments in developed industrial regions have a new incentive to implement pro-labor policies, even when they undermine the profitability of export-oriented sectors. The chapter contrasts the specific components of the new strategy with the strategies of authoritarian labor control observed in Latin America and East Asia.

This chapter examines the impact of state formation, in the form of the rise of the civil parish, on manorial governance structures. Through examining churchwardens’ accounts, it demonstrates that these officials at Worfield and Cratfield transformed from being local managers in the parish to being important agents of the state. However, comparison of the identities of churchwardens and manorial officials reveals that, throughout this transformation, the same individuals continued to hold both manorial and parochial roles. Moreover, qualitative evidence reveals that the powers of churchwardens and manorial officials were combined to meet the same objectives by these individuals, helping them meet their obligations to the lord and the crown. This questions a model of replacement of manor by parish which has been put forward by some early modernists, instead suggesting that the local parochial elite that state formation is often argued to have created was deeply rooted in the governing structure of the medieval manor.