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The Ministry of Justice has published its annual report to the Joint Committee on Human Rights on the Government response to human rights judgments 2011–12. By signing up to the European Convention on Human Rights, the UK has committed to “abide by” judgments of the court. This commitment is monitored by the Council of Europe’s Committee of Ministers.
The report presents a snapshot of the current state of play in relation to the European Court of Human Rights, makes for very interesting reading (trust me!). Here are some tidbits:
There were 28 judgments involving the UK from 1 August 2011 to 31 July 2012, nine of which the UK lost (UK loses 3 out of 4 cases, anyone?). See the handy table at pages 12-13.
The UK currently has 24 cases before the Committee of Ministers, which means that they have not been implemented.
The UK paid out €454,457 [this originally and wrongly said £] in damages for human rights violations (known as ‘just satisfaction’) in 2011, compared to €371,160 in 2010 (p.58). Fear of this figure ending up in the Daily Mail may be the reason that it is on the last page.
Back to basics, then, as the new academic year starts. Which courts decide human rights cases, when, and by what rules?
Well, the easy one is domestic courts. They decide whether a public authority has acted or omitted to act unlawfully under the Human Rights Act.
If the act is a decision about housing or immigration status or prisoners’ rights, the courts can quash it, and so tell the decision-maker either to decide it again or if there is only one lawful answer, tell the decision-maker what decision to take. If it was a past course of conduct (unlawful detention, intrusion into privacy, unacceptable pollution), they may award damages for human rights breaches. If the domestic law is itself unlawful, and cannot be interpreted HR-compliantly, the domestic courts can make a declaration of incompatibility under s.4 of HRA – it does the claimant no good in respect of his claim, though it throws a huge gauntlet down to Parliament to do something about the non-compliant law. And in the criminal courts, the obvious sanction is to dismiss the prosecution for some abuse of process involving the defendant’s human rights.
Flatela Vava et al v. Anglo American South Africa Ltd [2012] EWHC 1969 (QB) 16 July 2012, Silber J read judgment
Back to the problem of when and where you can sue various members of a group of companies. In the Cape case (for which see my post), a parent company was held liable for failing to ensure that its subsidiary properly managed the risks posed by asbestos. In this case of Vava, the claimants wanted to sue a South African registered holding company (AASA) in the UK, on the basis that the real decisions were taken in the UK, and hence AASA were domiciled in the UK for purposes of suing them.
The case came before Silber J, on an application by the claimants for documents relevant to this jurisdictional issue. AASA resisted, on the basis that there was not a good arguable case that it could be sued in England, and therefore it did not have to produce the documents relevant to this issue.
A sparkling, erudite and funny lecture last Thursday 5 July from the Chief Justice of Australia, exploring how the Australian system with a constitution, but without a Bill of Rights/Human Rights Act, seeks to deliver human rights protection – thanks to the Administrative Law Bar Association and the Angl0-Australasian Law Society. I shall try to summarise the differences, though, rather like the pre-HRA UK position, Australian human rights protection is a subtle one and a difficult one to explain in a short post. Particularly for a Pom. So I am in part throwing down a challenge to our Australian readers (up until this point, at least, quite a few) to comment on what follows.
The constitutional framework is all important. There are three major differences between this and the UK “constitution”. The first is the presence of a written constitution over 100 years old, and amendable only by referendum. The second is a federal system laid down by that constitution. Out of that arrangement comes a separation of powers between judiciary, legislature, and executive, and also between the Commonwealth (i.e, the federation) and each State, taken against the background of general common law principles drawn from the States’ shared colonial history. And the third is the lack of any substantive human rights instrument applicable to Australia as a whole.
Coalition for Responsible Regulation v. EPA US Federal Court of Appeals, DC, 26 June 2012, read judgment
This week, two big decisions which will have come as a relief to the President. The US Supreme Court did not strike down his healthcare law (judgment here), and, to the subject of this post, neither did the Federal Courts of Appeal in Washington declare invalid key greenhouse gas rules set by the Environmental Protection Agency. This saga is a perfect illustration of how closely law and politics get intertwined in the US.
As I pointed out in my previous post, Massachusetts v. EPA (549 U.S. 497 (2007)). told the EPA that it had a duty to regulate greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions because they were “any air pollutant” within the meaning of the Clean Air Act – as two prior general counsels had repeatedly told it. The EPA (under the previous administration) needed to be taken to the Supreme Court before responding. Thereafter, the EPA, with a new head appointed after Obama’s election, reached an Endangerment Finding, to the effect that GHGs may “reasonably be anticipated to endanger public health or welfare”. In the pellucid prose of this Court,
Next, it issued the Tailpipe Rule, which set emission standards for cars and light trucks. Finally, EPA determined that the CAA requires major stationary sources of greenhouse gases to obtain construction and operating permits. But because immediate regulation of all such sources would result in overwhelming permitting burdens on permitting authorities and sources, EPA issued the Timing and Tailoring Rules, in which it determined that only the largest stationary sources would initially be subject to permitting requirements.
Industry and a whole host of states (no prizes for guessing which fossil fuel producing states were in support) sought to challenge these rules.
IFAW Internationaler Tierschutz-Fonds GmbH; 21 June 2012, read judgment, on appeal from judgment of the General Court read judgment
I am in the middle of a series of posts about the way in which the EU institutions can be kept in check by individuals, including looking at challenges to EU measures (see my Inuit post) and the specifics of seeking an internal review of EU implementing Regulations via the EU Aarhus Regulation 1367/2006 (see my post on the pesticides and air quality challenges). So it was a happy coincidence that last Thursday, the CJEU allowed an appeal in a case concerning documents sought by an NGO from the Commission. We are here in the territory of all EU institutions and all EU issues, not simply environmental questions arising under the Aarhus Convention, though, as we shall see, this is an environmental case.
When two Nobel Laureates, an eminent constitutional lawyer and the Secretary General of COSATU (South Africa’s largest trade union federation) are unified in their stinging criticism of a proposed Bill, it may be the time has come for a redraft. Following 293 condemnatory submissions to the National Council of Provinces’ Ad Hoc Committee, the ANC has begun to make concessions.
In an unexpected volte-face at Committee deliberations last month, the ANC tabled a raft of amendments to the current draft of the controversial Protection of State Information Bill. Key proposals include the insertion of a narrow ‘public interest defence’ in relation to a Clause 43 charge of unlawful disclosure of classified information and scrapping of the intolerably low mental element ofconstructive knowledge – “ought reasonably to know” – from many of the offence-creating provisions. By virtue of the former amendment, an accused would also be able to rely on a defence of ‘wrongful classification’.
In my post of today about checks on EU legality, I made the point that no institution formally monitors the EU apart from EU institutions. Moves are afoot to change that, though not in a form that diehard Eurosceptics are likely to relish. Article 6 of the Lisbon Treaty of European Union says that the EU shall accede to the ECHR. As and when that occurs, the European Court of Human Rights will assume a formal role in adjudicating upon the legality of EU measures. The details of accession could not be settled by the purely EU Treaty of Lisbon, hence the ongoing negotiations.
However, things have been happening very recently. Yesterday, 19 June, a joint informal body of members of the European Parliament and Council of Europe parliamentarians welcomed the prospect of talks resuming on EU accession to the European Convention on Human Rights, and, last week, the Committee of Ministers of the Council of Europe decided to pursue negotiations with the European Union with a view to finalising the legal instruments setting out the way in which the EU would accede to the ECHR.
In a recent post I mentioned that there has been criticism of the scope of the EU Aarhus Regulation inserting provisions about transparency, public participation and access to justice into EU processes themselves. It struck me just how confusing the whole area of EU challenges to EU measures is, so I thought I would summarise it as best I can in this and a following post. Here goes; the going may get a bit bumpy, but it is important stuff. I hope also to give some EU context to the debate about whether something is or is not a legislative act under Aarhus which I trailed in that post.
The EU signed up to the Aarhus Convention on environmental matters, as have all the member states. And the EU has made member states implement Aarhus-compliant procedures in major areas such as environmental impact assessment and industrial emissions, via the 2003 Public Participation Directive. The EU also requires member states to introduce a wide-ranging right to environmental information, transposed in the UK via the Environmental Information Regulations. The European Court has also chipped in with its own Aarhus gloss in the Slovakian Bearcase; whenever a member state is considering some provision of EU environmental law, it must interpret that provision, if possible, so that it complies with Aarhus standards of public participation, even though those standards may be in the parts of the Aarhus Convention which have not received their own direct transposition into EU, let alone domestic, law.
Stichting Natuur en Milieu & Pesticide Action Network Europe v. European Commission (read judgment), and Vereniging Milieudefensie & Stichting Stop Luchtverontreininging Utrecht v. European Commission (read judgment), General Court, 14 June 2012
In these two cases, the General Court in Luxembourg (successor to the Court of First Instance) has decided that the terms of the Aarhus Convention prevail over the EU’s own regulation about access to information, public participation, and access to justice within EU institutions. Therefore NGOs are entitled to an internal review of certain decisions taken by the EU Commission. A decision, it appears, of some controversy, given that the European Commission, European Council and European Council were all arguing against that result.
In last week’s judgment in Assange v The Swedish Prosecution Authority[2012] UKSC 22, the Supreme Court decided that the words ‘judicial authority’ in s 2(2) of the Extradition Act 2003 include prosecutors as well as courts. This was because the European Arrest Warrant (EAW) Framework Decision, to which the Part 1 of 2003 Act gave effect, uses the expression in that broad sense, and the presumption is that Parliament meant the same thing (summary here).
The EAW Framework Decision has always guided the interpretation of the Part 1 of the 2003 Act. Until Assange, there were two different reasons for this: (i) a domestic rule of statutory interpretation; and (ii) the rule expounded by the Court of Justice of the EU in Case C-105/03 Criminal proceedings against Maria Pupino.
Last week the UN Human Rights Commissioner published the draft report of the second Universal Periodic Review (UPR) of the UK’s human rights record (draft report here, webcast of the UPR session here). The UPR involves delegations from UN member states asking questions and make recommendations to the UK government on the protection of human rights, which the government will consider before providing its response. The report is extremely wide-ranging, perhaps to its detriment, though many valuable and interesting insights are provided.
The UPR process was established in 2006. It involves a review of all 192 UN member states once every four years. As readers of this blog will know, the protection of human rights has a troubled recent history in the UK, with newspaper campaigns against “the hatedHuman Rights Act” providing the background to government pronouncements on human rights that veer from the sensible to the ridiculous. In this context, the UPR provides a valuable attempt at a serious assessment of human rights in this country.
Assange v. The Swedish Prosecution Authority [2012] UKSC 22, read judgment
Today, the Supreme Court held that Julian Assange should be extradited to Sweden for alleged rape. This is subject to further submissions on one point (concerning the Vienna Convention on Treaties), well covered by Joshua Rozenberg in his post on the lively proceedings when the judgment was handed down.
The whole of the appeal turned on one technical point, simple to state, but it took the Court 266 paragraphs to answer. Was the European Arrest Warrant which triggered the extradition request signed by a”judicial authority,” given that it was signed by a prosecutor? Most English lawyers, unburdened with the detail, would say – no, a prosecutor is not a judicial authority, indeed he or she is the opposite of that, a party. But, according to the Supreme Court, they are wrong, and so are the ministers who told Parliament that a judicial authority has to be some sort of judge or court.
I posted recently on the continuing legal see-saw in France arising from the prosecution of Total and other parties for their responsibility for the loss of the Erika on 12 December 1999. The Erika sank off the Brittany coast, spilling some 20,000 tonnes of heavy fuel oil, polluting some 400 km of the French coastline, and killing this poor guillemot, amongst many.
Last week, on 24 May, this criminal case reached the highest French court, the Cour de Cassation. Some thought that the court was going to rule immediately on whether Total and the others were criminally liable for the oil pollution. Previously, the Criminal Court of First Instance, and the Court of Appeal in Paris had said that Total and others were responsible. But now the prosecutor, Advocate-General Boccon-Gibod, was of the view that Total had no criminal liability. His written opinion appears not to have surfaced on the ‘net, but from the decision of the Court of Appeal (for the brave, and not for those with slow broadband, all 487 pages), you can see the points that Total was making, and which he seems to have accepted.
In the UK there are at present no rights expressly cast in terms applicable to climate change, nor have our traditional human rights been extensively interpreted as covering climate change consequences. As David Hart QC identifies in his blog, Is climate change a human rights issue?, human rights principles, to be useful for climate change litigators, have to have some democratic backing somewhere. So is there any hope, in the near future at least, of formally or even informally establishing a link between climate change and human rights in the UK? Is human rights based climate change litigation as ‘radical’ as David Hart suggests?
Consider, for example, the situation where the avoidance of further climate change damage was possible through adequate mitigation and/or adaptation, but where adaptation measures were not implemented due to financial or technical constraints. Leaving aside the issue of whether the State would be liable for a moment, could existing human rights be engaged in this situation?
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The Ministry of Justice has published its annual report to the Joint Committee on Human Rights on the Government response to human rights judgments 2011–12. By signing up to the European Convention on Human Rights, the UK has committed to “abide by” judgments of the court. This commitment is monitored by the Council of Europe’s Committee of Ministers. 
In last week’s judgment in Assange v The Swedish Prosecution Authority 
Last week the UN Human Rights Commissioner published the draft report of the second 
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