David Nelken 2004 Legal Culture - ANTROPOLOGI KEPOLISIAN
David Nelken 2004 Legal Culture - ANTROPOLOGI KEPOLISIAN
DAVID NELKEN*
Legal culture, in its most general sense, is one way of describing relatively
stable patterns of legally oriented social behaviour and attitudes. The
identifying elements of legal culture range from facts about institutions such
as the number and role of lawyers or the ways judges are appointed and
controlled, to various forms of behaviour such as litigation or prison rates,
and, at the other extreme, more nebulous aspects of ideas, values,
aspirations and mentalities. Like culture itself, legal culture is about who
we are not just what we do.
Enquiries into legal culture try to understand puzzling features of the
role and the rule of law within given societies. Why do the United Kingdom
and Denmark complain most about the imposition of European Union
(‘EU’) law but then turn out to be the countries which have the best records
of obedience? Conversely, why does Italy, whose public opinion is most in
favour of Europe, have such a high rate of non-compliance? Why does
Holland, otherwise so similar, have such a low litigation rate compared to
neighbouring Germany? Why in the United States and the United Kingdom
does it often takes a sex scandal to create official interest in doing
something about corruption, whereas in Latin countries it takes a major
corruption scandal to excite interest in marital unfaithfulness!? Such
contrasts can lead us to reconsider broader theoretical issues in the study of
law and society. How does the importance of ‘enforcement’ as an aspect of
law vary in different societies? What can be learned, and what is likely to
be obscured, by defining ‘law’ in terms of litigation rates? How do shame
and guilt cultures condition the boundaries of law and in what ways does
law help shape those self-same boundaries?
These few examples are enough to suggest that findings about legal
culture can have both theoretical and policy implications. But there may
even be more straightforwardly practical advantages. Knowing more about
differences in legal culture can actually save your life! One well-travelled
colleague who teaches legal theory likes to tell a story of the way crossing
the road when abroad requires good knowledge of the local customs. In
England, he claims, you are relatively safe on pedestrian crossings, but
rather less secure if you try to cross elsewhere. In Italy, he argues, you need
to show about the same caution in both places; but at least motorists will do
their best to avoid actually hitting you. In Germany, on the other hand, or so
he alleges, you are totally safe on the zebra crossing. You don’t even need
to look out for traffic. But, if you dare to cross elsewhere, you risk simply
not being ‘seen’.
The sort of investigations in which the idea of legal culture finds its
place are those which set out to explore empirical variations in the way law
is conceived and lived rather than to establish universal truths about the
nature of law; to map the existence of different concepts of law rather than
establish the concept of law.1 In employing the idea of legal culture in
comparative exercises geared to exploring the similarities and differences
amongst legal practices and legal worlds the aim is to go beyond the tired
categories so often relied on in comparative law such as ‘families of law’
and incorporate that attention to the Taw in action’ and ‘living law’ which
is usually missing from comparative lawyers’ classifications and
descriptions.*2
But the concept of legal culture is certainly not a simple one. Not
only is it used in a variety of ways, some authors have even suggested that it
is so misleading that it should be abandoned. In this paper I shall first
address two of the key issues surrounding the use of this term. Firstly, what
should we consider to be the unit of legal culture? In a period of increasing
globalisation is it still appropriate that it be the nation state? Secondly, how
should the term legal culture figure in our explanations? Is it a separable
variable to be set against other causal factors, or is it a rather an invitation to
interpret what is distinctive about the way law works and is experienced in
different places? After summarising some of the general literature on these
issues I shall then re-examine them with reference to empirical research I
I shall have to leave to another occasion the problems in using the term
delay as if it were a self-evident fact, rather than a contested and contestable
label implying that someone finds a length of waiting time unacceptable.
Likewise, I shall not discuss here the harm caused — even in Italy — by
legal procedures that are over too quickly.
Eric Feldman, ‘Patients’ Rights, Citizen Movements and Japanese Legal
Culture’ in David Nelken (ed), Comparing Legal Cultures (1997) 215; and
Eric Feldman, ‘Blood Justice, Courts, Conflict and Compensation in Japan,
France and the United States’ (2001) 34 Law and Society Review 651.
See, eg, John Bell, French Legal Culture (2002); Ehrhard Blankenburg and
Freek Bruinsma, Dutch Legal Culture (2nd ed, 1994); David Johnson, The
Japanese Way ofJustice (2002).
See Volkmar Gessner, Armin Hoeland and Casba Varga (eds), European
Legal Cultures (1996).
Bell, above n 5.
4 (2004) 29 Australian Journal of Legal Philosophy
remedies.*23 20
Others
* * insist that nation states remain recognisably distinctive,
with the extreme of ‘adversarial legalism’ located only in the United
States.24 It has been observed that much of the ‘ideal’ model does not
accurately describe how the law operates at home, for example the
American legal and regulatory system in practice often relies on
inquisitorial methods. National versions of the Continental legal system
embodied in ready packaged Codes are also being exported, especially to
the ex-communist world. In addition, the ideals represented by the ‘rule of
law’ itself, as a way of providing certainty and keeping the state within
bounds, seem increasingly outdated for the regulation of international
commercial exchange by computer between multinationals which are more
powerful than many of the governments of the countries in which they
trade.25
What does seem undeniable is the extent to which legal culture is
becoming ever more what we could call ‘relational’. With increasing
contact between societies there are ever more opportunities to define one’s
own legal culture in terms of relationships of attraction to or repulsion from
what goes on in other societies. For example, when comparative European
prison rates first began to be published in the 1980s, Finland, which came
high in the list, decided to cut back on prison building, whereas Holland felt
entitled to build more. What mattered was to stay within the norm.
Likewise, for many European countries the continued use of the death
penalty in the United States serves as a significant marker of the superiority
of their own legal culture.
(b) What is the Concept of Legal Culture good for?
Let us assume that we can identify which unit — or, better, units — of legal
culture we want to study. Our second set of questions concern how we
should employ the concept in the context of our investigations. What is the
point in calling a particular pattern of behaviour or ideas legal culture, and
what follows from this? We could use this term, like others such as ‘legal
system’ or ‘legal process’, as no more than scholarly shorthand for pointing
to a set of activities or problems. But if we want to utilise legal culture in
explanatory enquiries we shall have to go further than this. The question is
See Wolf Heyderbrand, ‘Globalization and the Rule of Law at the End of the
20th Century’ in Alberto Febbrajo, David Nelken and Vittorio Olgiati (eds),
Social Processes and Patterns of Legal Control: European Yearbook of
Sociology ofLaw, 2000 (2001) 25.
Robert Kagan, Adversarial Legalism: The American Way of Law (2001);
David Nelken, ‘Beyond Compare? Criticising the American Way of Law’
(2003)28 Law and Social Inquiry 181.
See William Scheuerman, ‘Globalization and the Fate of Law’ in David
Dyzenhaus (ed), Recrafting the Rule of Law: The Limits of Legal Order
(1999)243-66
8 (2004) 29 Australian Journal of Legal Philosophy
Lawrence Friedman, Total Justice (1985), and see also Lawrence Friedman,
The Republic of Choice: Law, Society and Culture (1990).
See, eg, Valerie Hamilton and Joe Sanders, Everyday Justice: Responsibility
and the Individual in Japan and the United States (1992).
Ehrhard Blankenburg, ‘Civil Litigation Rates as Indicators for Legal
Culture’ in David Nelken (ed), Comparing Legal Cultures (1997) 41.
As an illustration of the lack of conceptual clarification in this field we may
note that the infrastructural alternatives that Blankenburg, ibid, calls ‘legal
culture’ others would describe as ‘structural factors’, precisely in contrast to
cultural ones.
David Nelken, ‘Puzzling out Legal Culture: A Comment on Blankenburg’ in
David Nelken (ed) Comparing Legal Cultures (1997) 69.
10 (2004) 29 Australian Journal of Legal Philosophy
for the new concept of ‘rights’ came to settle on a sign associated with ‘self
interest’ rather than morality.45
An interpretative stance is more ready than the mainstream
explanatory approach to treat culture as part of a flow of meaning, ‘the
enormous interplay of interpretations in and about a culture’46 to which the
scholar herself also contributes. It is also less interested in drawing a
definitional line between legal culture and the rest of social life because it
sees this less as a problem for the observer to solve than an aspect of the
way legal culture actually works as it reflexively constructs the boundaries
of law-in-society. Common law systems, for example, tend to focus more
on the link between law, economics and society; civil law systems
principally on that between law, politics and society.47 In some civil law
legal regimes, as compared to the Anglo-American pragmatic-instrumental
view of law, law may be deliberately treated as more of an ideal aspiration
than as a blueprint for guiding behaviour, either because of deference to the
state project of representing the collective will, or under the influence of
religious traditions and philosophical idealism. This may partly explain the
successful spread of Anglo-American lawyering.48
Civil cases in 1999 took on average five years to go through the first trial
stage, and over nine years for both the first and appeal stages (which is
essentially a retrial of the facts).49 There is also a further and regularly used
final appeal stage on legal points that can be taken to the numerous sections
of the Supreme Court. Penal cases can take only a little less time. At the
start of 2000 as many as 3 500 000 civil cases and 5 400 000 penal cases
were awaiting trial. Can the idea of legal culture help us make sense of all
this? What can this case study show us about the value of the concept? As
promised, I shall be concentrating in particular on the intersections amongst
different units — or levels — of legal culture, as well as on the role of the
concept as an explanatory tool and an invitation to explore meaning. I shall
take these two issues in turn.
(a) The Need for a Multi-level Analysis
The problem of legal delay in Italy is largely perceived and presented as a
national problem. But there is certainly also considerable variation at the
local court level around the country. The time courts took to dispose of civil
cases from their case loads ranged from around six to eleven years, and the
courts in the South were almost always consistently longer. For example,
according to the Ministry of Justice statistics for the civil courts in 1999, the
shortest period was found in the small town of Bolzano in the (Austrian
influenced) far North of the country, where first stage trials took on average
around four and half years and the process of appeal court hearings took
around a further year and half (making a total 6.20 years). The court with
the record for the longest trials was Caltanisetta, a small town in Sicily
where, on average, cases took seven and half years for the first trial stage,
and a further five and a half for the appeal stage (total time 13.15 years). In
some, mainly southern, courts bankruptcy or inheritance disputes can still
involve more than one generation of lawyers. In others, legal culture may be
‘behind’ the level of efficiency reached in those parts of the country. The
small university town where I work is situated in a wealthy and peaceful
part of Central Italy. But the head of the local lawyers association was
reported in June 2003 as protesting about the fact that after initial hearings
the following hearing date for civil trials can only be fixed for dates
each tribunal. They also include those that finish before a sentence is
delivered (either by agreement between the parties or for other reasons). Yet
further time is required for ‘depositing’ the sentence of the judge, and even
more for actually carrying out the court’s judgment and getting your money
and property back. For a series of reasons, that have to do with the lack of
court bailiff resources and the competition from private and even illegal
actors, the actual ‘recovery’ of the debt is the most problematic stage of the
legal process. After the 1995 civil justice reform designed to shorten waiting
time hundreds of thousands of cases, some of which are quite legally
complex ones, awaiting trial at the time of the reform, were assigned to a
sort of legal bureaucratic limbo (the so called ‘sezione stralcio') where they
are still slowly being disposed of by poorly paid lawyers deputising as
honourary judges.
Using the Concept of Legal Culture 13
between 2007 and 2011 (!) (And in most normal cases six hearings are
required.)
Nonetheless, these national differences do not negate the existence of
a relatively high level of court delay in Italy, as compared to other European
countries. And, if anything, there is more in common in legal culture across
the country than in many other aspects of national culture. As a relatively
young state there are significant differences in many other aspects of
national culture between the North, the Centre and the South. The
similarities in legal culture, on the other hand, derive from the sharing of
common rules, procedures and nationally appointed judges as well as
aspects of institutional practice and law in action, such as the way lawyers
are paid. Indeed, law is often deliberately used as a nationalising and
centralising force to correct for the ‘backwardness’ of outlying areas.
On the other hand, it is impossible to understand the factors that
shape court delays in Italy without looking beyond national boundaries. The
current working of Italian criminal justice is moulded by doctrinal
scholarship which reflects, on the one hand, the long standing hegemony of
German penal law, which is still unchallenged amongst the law professors
of substantive criminal law, and, on the other hand, the more recent
influence of Anglo-American ideas which have come in as a result of the
introduction of a large number of accusatorial elements in the penal process.
This certainly complicates any effort to characterise Italian criminal justice
merely in terms of other aspects of the same culture. Proposed remedies for
court delays are more likely to come from abroad than from within Italy.
This is true, for example, for the introduction of so called ‘Justices of the
Peace’ as a more rapid jurisdiction for first level civil cases, which again
drew on the Anglo-American tradition.
Sometimes such ‘borrowing’ may even exacerbate delay For
example, this was true of the effects of the 1989 new code of criminal
procedure on delays on the penal side. This famous reform was the first to
introduce a fully-fledged accusatorial system into a continental legal
system. But it came up against the reluctance of the judges and prosecutors
working in the system to lose control of the trial. It was modified early on
by a restrictive decision handed down by the constitutional court, which
feared that organised crime would otherwise be able to exploit the
considerable new procedural advantages it gave to the accused.50 Part of the
justification for the reform was the stimulus it would give to speeding up
trials by allowing a variety of quicker alternatives including plea
bargaining. But alternatives to full trial are adopted in less than a third of
cases. The main problem is that the new protections for the accused that
50
Elisabetta Grande, ‘Italian Criminal Justice: Borrowing and Resistance’
(2000) 48 American Journal of Comparative Law 227.
14 (2004) 29 Australian Journal of Legal Philosophy
characterise the adversarial system were simply added to the previous ones
characteristic of the older inquisitorial type of system. The system now
seeks to incorporate protections designed to foreground the forensic heat of
the adversarial trial together with reliance on double checking by different
judges in the three stages of trial that include the right to a full rehearing of
the facts on appeal. Even relatively trivial criminal cases can need to be
viewed by as many thirty people with legal training. Bureaucratic
procedural requirements include complex notification rules for all parties to
the trial that can be easily manipulated if the accused changes his address or
lawyer regularly. What this means is that there is little incentive for lawyers
to use any of the alternatives to trial. By holding out and exploiting all
procedural rights there is a good chance that the case will be time-blocked
before it runs its full course of all three trial stages.
At the macro level, however, it is the role played by the super
national Strasbourg Court of Human Rights that is of particular interest for
our purposes. The right to a trial within a reasonable period is one of the
fundamental rights of the Convention of Human Rights (Art 6) that this
Court seeks to protect. In 1999, when there were over forty signatories to
this convention, there were no less than 6885 appeals from Italy awaiting
decision, almost all of which concerned legal delay. This represented over
20% of the total from all countries for breaches of all the various provisions
of the Convention. Italian representation at later stages was even higher.
Thirty six per cent of all sentences handed down were findings of guilt
against Italy for cases involving unreasonable delay in its trial processes.
The Italian state was condemned to pay so called moral damages to almost
all the successful applicants. The Strasbourg Court itself got into difficulty
in handling all these appeals within a reasonable period and set up
committees to overhaul its machinery in an attempt to catch up with its
backlog!
The cases that reach Strasbourg are not necessarily representative of
Italian court cases in general, but it is by no means only the extreme cases
that arrive there. To provide some empirical evidence on these matters I
carried out an analysis of a sample of 50 court cases handed down by the
court in the late 1990s. This revealed that delays ranged from four to 18
years. Most cases were on the civil side. Penal cases tend to end by the case
becoming time bound (‘prescription’) and the accused person often tends to
leave it there. But interestingly, no more than a seventh of the sample
involved anything like commercial disputes. Most cases involved
individuals in dispute with large organisations. The Italian state usually
tried to defend the cases at Strasbourg on the grounds of court overload, but
this defence was always rejected. At a conservative estimate as many as a
fifth of court cases in Italy take longer than the time Strasbourg considers
reasonable. Absent particular reasons of legal complexity a good part of the
Using the Concept of Legal Culture 15
The lawyer went on to add that the actual damages that the Strasbourg
Court awards to someone ‘crushed by the national legal system’ were far
too low to compensate for what can have been lost.
It would be premature to conclude that European harmonisation of
court delay is round the comer or that Italy is about to get its house in
order.51 Some home-grown remedies have been introduced. There have
been significant ‘managerial’ type reforms aimed at combining different
levels of the criminal court and reducing the number of hearings in civil
cases. Gains in speed in new civil cases did result from the re-routing of
51
Other case studies, for example of the implementation of International
Monetary Fund standards or international conventions etc, would likely turn
up similar dialectics of change and resistance.
16 (2004) 29 Australian Journal of Legal Philosophy
pre-1995 cases to be dealt with by honorary judges. Judges who are found
responsible for breaching bureaucratic time limits in writing their
judgments now risk having to pay damages and not, as previously, only
criticism, as a result of internal disciplinary hearings by the Supreme
Judicial Council. But the basic weaknesses of the system have not been
touched. In addition, however, Italy has also taken more questionable
measures to stave off criticism from Strasbourg. In 1999 the so-called Pinto
Law (Legge Pinto) was passed. As a result cases of alleged delay now have
first to be submitted to the court of appeal of the nearest district, where
decisions are then supposed to be provided within four months. This holds
back recourse to Strasbourg and aims to prevent parties from seeking
remedies that place Italy in a bad light internationally and cost the
government money in moral damages. But this new trial stage of course
itself adds to delay, and there are additional limits to the remedies provided.
At a conference on legal delay in the criminal courts held at Padua that I
attended recently, the way the courts are applying the Legge Pinto was
described as ‘diabolical’.52 For example, unlike actions before the
Strasbourg Court it is necessary within Italy to prove that delay has led to
material damage and the expenses of bringing the action are not reimbursed.
So cases are still going to go to Strasbourg.
More recently, a new constitutional right to reasonable length trials
was included in the framework of the so-called ‘just trials’ revision of the
Constitution. Significantly, however, this does not give rise to private
actions against the state as with the Strasbourg Court.53 No thought was
given to how to make this right effective, nor how to ensure its priority in
relation to the other rights and procedural protections being introduced
simultaneously whose tendency was actually to lengthen court processes.
Judges have told me that they have begun to use this new principle as a
means of ‘closing’ stale cases where, from a strictly formal point of view
this would have been problematic. Lawyers defending politicians and
organised criminals also try to invoke this as a right when their clients have
been waiting a long time (often because of their own delaying tactics) for
their trials to end. But any real commitment to the aim of ‘speedy trials’
must be suspect in the light of the continuing and even increasing emphasis
on multiplying points and methods of procedural rights and controls. For
most of the trial lawyers I have been interviewing in the course of my
research on this topic the average time taken for court cases in Italy is
something they have adapted to and take for granted. The exceptional cases
for them are the ones that overrun the Italian norm, because of more than
normal problems in the availability of judges, administrative errors by the
cancelleria, the number of parties involved, the need for complicated expert
evidence, difficulties in obtaining the collaboration of parties or witnesses,
unfair tactics used by the other side, legal complexities and so on.
(b) Explaining and Interpreting Legal Delay in Italy
What happens in Italy is not merely a result of Italian culture and legal
culture. But it is certainly also very much connected to other aspects of the
Italian context. What (other) aspects of culture and society explain court
delay in Italy? What can an interpretative approach tell us about the
attitudes and behaviour which help produce such delays? As we shall see,
one strategy of explanation concentrates on identifying the possible causes
of delay and giving each the weight it deserves. The second seeks more to
understand different ways of thinking about law.
To a degree the length of legal processes is the result of purely legal
factors. The requirement of three court stages (two of these on ‘the facts’),
the number of supreme courts (which often in practice re-try cases), the
length of judge’s verdicts (‘motivations’ as they are called on the
continent), and the prestige of jurists’ commentary as a potential source of
law, all encourage legal uncertainty. The judge’s role in civil trials is
central, as it is in France, but in Italy they are expected to write much longer
‘motivations’ of their decisions. Judges explain that they can only get
around to thinking about the case and writing their sentences once all the
facts have come in. Lawyers who used to write brief requests now use their
computers to state their claims at great length. Moreover, once it has
accumulated, delay itself produces more delay and uncertainty.
Media discussions attribute the ‘blame’ to the way people abuse the
system. Either the problem is the laziness, arrogance or managerial
ineptitude of judges, or it is the avidity of lawyers, the litigiousness of
disputants or the disinterest or self interest of politicians. In academic
discussions the most cited cause is undoubtedly the fact that the number of
judges has nowhere near kept pace with the increasing rate of litigation in
the post war period. In terms of what Friedman calls ‘external legal culture’,
the argument is that the ‘supply’ of law has simply not kept up with public
demand. Since the last world war there has been a seven fold increase in the
number of civil cases filed whereas the number of judges has less than
doubled.54 Many more cases arrive at the courts than can possibly be dealt
with by the number of judges available, and court hearings are for this
reason scheduled well into the future for the earliest court calendar date
available. Crucially, then, delay is not a result of the time actually spent on
dealing with the cases, but is instead the accumulated product of all the
‘dead’ periods (calculated in months or even years) that are allowed to pass
between the relevant court sessions.
A second important cause of delay is said to be the large increase in
the number of lawyers which has grown up to satisfy, but which may also
stimulate, this public demand. According to some statistics there are now as
many as 150 000 lawyers though not all of them are in practice. Entrance
examinations for becoming lawyers, in contrast to those for judges, are
extremely easy. The way that lawyers are paid, on the basis of each legal act
they perform, is also said to encourage drawing out cases.55 On the one
hand, there is no state financed legal aid, and hence no possibility for
limiting cases litigated with public subsidy to those considered meritorious.
On the other, the costs for litigation, especially in a comparative context,
can be considered relatively low and do not serve as much of a deterrent to
litigation. Once cases are under way lawyers rarely aim at settlements
before the case reaches court, in part because delay comes to represent a
goal in itself. On the civil side, delay for one person is stay of execution for
another, and, in both the civil and penal process, postponement of the day of
reckoning is exactly what at least one party is seeking to obtain. The
relatively low proportion of cases which lawyers settle before trial is also
said to be explained by the fact that in Italy there is ‘no culture of
compromise’. The last chapter of a recent review of alternative dispute
arrangements in Italy has the title (in Italian) ‘Conciliation as set out by the
Code — a ruined past, a bankrupt present and a highly uncertain future’.56
Other background institutional factors are also worth noting. In terms
of government spending the Italian court system is starved of resources and
those that are available are sometimes skewed by political considerations
and by the difficulty in rationalising the distribution of tribunals across the
country in terms of effective demand. The court administration struggles to
cope with its workload often relying on antiquated information technology,
and at least some of the generally poorly paid employees are affected by the
formalistic ethos which characterises much public employment in Italy. The
self governing judicial parliament has its work cut out to defend judicial
autonomy from political attack and has neither the resources nor the know
how to run the courts as a public service. There is little support amongst
judges for a managerial approach to running Italian courts. The heads of
courts are never chosen for managerial ability and often lack it, and for
those who are, formally speaking, their subordinates have a high level of
constitutionally guaranteed independence. There is no small claims court,
though recently Justices of the Peace have been recruited and given a role in
dealing with low value cases. But they too are now accumulating a backlog.
These weaknesses at the formal level are made up for by the existence of
what Blankenburg called ‘infrastructural alternatives’.57 Only the very rich
can afford judicial arbitration and there are still only relatively few
mediation schemes set up by local chambers of commerce.
In addition, however there are also what we could call structural
factors. Here the major argument would be that legal delays are in the
interest of the powerful. But the evidence for this is equivocal. Take first
the politicians. Governments save money by not spending on the courts,
and, indirectly, the voters benefit in lower taxes — assuming they pay them.
Delay, and its consequence, queuing, is then one way to ration a scarce
resource. Some of the cases of worst delay actually involve government
trying to avoid cashing pension or other promises. In general, Italian
governments tend to govern through leniency rather than efficiency and
order.58 Yet, on the other hand, governments pay a high price in legitimacy
for the poor functioning of the courts, especially after the procession of
cases going to Strasbourg. And the court system has a high degree of
political, though not financial, autonomy from the executive. Even the
Ministry for Justice relies on judges seconded to the Ministry for drafting
and supervising legal reforms.
Working out the relationship between delay and economic interests is
similarly complicated. For Weber (and his modem followers) a predictable
and well functioning legal system is an essential part of the infrastructure of
capitalism. Yet economic interests in Italy put up with a high level of
disorganisation and delay. The largest businesses, it is true, can and do have
recourse to arbitration, using judges and/or distinguished jurists, as a way of
resolving their disputes. But this is a costly solution as a percentage of the
value of the case has to be paid in return for quick justice. The large
majority of Italy’s economy, however, relies on small business, and they
would surely benefit from a more expeditious and responsive court system.
Delay mainly helps those in the wrong who can use court delay as means to
postpone payment (or prison), especially, as has happened, when the
interest on funds that can be obtained in the market place is higher than the
legal interest which has to be paid when the case is eventually settled.
Of course, once this type of system exists, those working within or
alongside it, and those caught up as parties, may all sometimes have vested
interests in delay. Having found ways to benefit from it they may also
willingly perpetuate the current situation. Judges and lawyers, sometimes in
implicit collusion, may gain advantages by taking things slowly; the judge
can postpone the moment of writing the sentence, the lawyer can keep more
cases on the go than could possibly be handled in a system with more
stringent temporal requirements. What is more, the consequent
unpredictability of legal remedies provides a niche for intermediaries or
mediators, such as politicians and professionals, debt collection agencies,
accident specialists, in the North, and, in addition, organised criminals the
South. These play a vital role in bringing parties together, acting as
guarantors,59 and resolving at least some cases of non-compliance for
example by taking over or recovering debts. Banks gain from acting as
depositors in long drawn out bankruptcy cases. For their part large
corporations get around court inefficiencies by taking independent action to
disconnect supply or reclaim debts owed. Those who are "repeat players’60
in the legal system can choose when it suits them to engage in litigation and
can opt for delaying tactics or early settlement as it suits them. They have
the power to make others wait and have time on their side. It is often said,
though usually without any direct evidence to back it up, that economic
actors also tolerate the current inefficient system because they feel it could
be to their advantage if they were ever to find themselves on the side with
the weaker case. Certainly, there is ample proof that some powerful actors,
including leading politicians and businessmen, do fear that they might one
day come within the reach of the criminal courts and so have an interest in a
trial system which offers room for manoeuvre and delay. It is hard (if not
impossible) to envisage a legal system that on the one hand had long drawn
out criminal trials but rapid civil ones. Nonetheless to argue that the present
delays are more in the interests of economic actors than otherwise still
seems to be going too far. The widely read and authoritative financial daily,
II Sole 24 Ore, which is owned by the Confindustria employers’
association, certainly treats delay as a serious problem and it regularly
denounces the inefficiency of Italy’s courts. Indeed this newspaper is the
main public source of information about court delay.
and the offender and may make conciliation and mediation possible. Where
appropriate it allows the victim and society to see that they were ‘co-
responsible’ for the crime.
David Nelken and Letizia Zanier, ‘Tra norme e prassi: durata del processo
penale e strategic degli operatori del diritto’ forthcoming in Sociologia del
Diritto.
Harry Kalven and Harry Zeisel, Delay in the Courts (1959).
Reducing legal delay requires an understanding of how to co-ordinate the
Using the Concept of Legal Culture 23
Equally, the legal procedural values which help produce delay are
shared by political elites and many others in the wider society. This is
particularly clear on the penal side. In fact, no analysis of legal culture in
Italy would do more than scrape the surface if it did not reckon with the
historically shaped mutually interlocking distrust of the state found both on
the right and the left. After the war there was an understandable reaction
against the role of state-run courts during the excesses of Fascism. In
addition it was unclear whether it would be the Communists or the Christian
Democrats who would prevail electorally, and hence which of these would
be obliged to endure the hegemony of their ideological enemies. The post
war Constitution granted judges and prosecutors a high degree of
constitutionally entrenched autonomy and self-government and over the
next thirty years an ambitious scheme of self-governing autonomy of the
judges was put into place. Increasingly this autonomy from the state came
to favour the Communist party that was permanently excluded from the
changing government coalitions put together by the Christian Democrats.
And eventually it allowed prosecutors and judges to bring down all the
parties of government simply by applying established criminal law.66
The fear of placing discretion in the hands of political opponents
continues to justify the maintenance of unrealistic, redundant and mutually
controlling institutions with high procedural safeguards. At the Padua
conference a leading law professor sympathetic to the Berlusconi
government and active in politics said in his presentation that he would not
feel ‘protected’ if Italy was to remove the appeal stage in criminal cases,
even though it is functionally redundant under the newly introduced
accusatorial system. ‘In this culture and at this time’, he said, ‘we do not
benefit from the settled political consensus characteristic of Anglo-Saxon
polities’. A law professor on the left, on the other hand, argued that, in order
to avoid the power to prosecute coming under the control of (corrupt)
governments it was necessary to maintain the rule of obligatory
times of all the actors involved, legal and otherwise. The process cannot
move faster than that of its slowest component. But there is no reason why
the courts have to be the slowest of these. See Thomas Durkin, Robert
Dingwall and William L F Felstiner, Plaited Cunning: Manipulating Time in
Asbestos Litigation (1990).
See, eg, David Nelken, ‘A Legal Revolution? The Judges and
Tangentopoly’ in Stephen Gundle and Simon Parker (eds), The New Italian
Republic: From the Fall of the Berlin Wall to Berlusconi (1995) 191; David
Nelken, ‘Judicial Politics and Corruption in Italy’ in David Nelken and Mike
Levi (eds), The Corruption of Politics and the Politics of Corruption, (1996)
Special Issue of 23 Journal of Law and Society 95, and David Nelken, ‘II
Significato di Tangentopoli: La Risposta Giudiziaria alia Corruzione e i Suoi
Limiti’ in Luciano Violante (ed), Storia d'ltalia 14: Legge, Diritto e
Giustizia (1997) 597.
24 (2004) 29 Australian Journal of Legal Philosophy
prosecution, despite the fact that this is either a fig leaf for discretionary
decision-making or the cause of unmanageable delay. Better that delay
serve as the ‘functional equivalent’ of discretion than allow one’s political
rivals the choice of who to prosecute, or let off. In this as in so many other
ways structure and culture are symbiotic.
It could be objected that delays in the civil courts have less to do with
the degree of autonomy possessed by prosecutors and more to do with the
general weaknesses of the public administration. But it is what happens in
the criminal courts that sets the agenda for court reform. Moreover, criminal
courts handle a far wider range of issues than is true in Anglo-American
polities. As just one example, lawyers in tort claims in road accident cases
regularly rely almost entirely on the evidence collected by the public
prosecutor in connected criminal proceedings. And criminal courts have
regularly drained resources from the civil courts as they responded to the
emergencies of terrorism, organised crime, and, more recently political
corruption.
What else can legal delay tell us about the connection between legal culture
and other aspects of daily life in Italy as compared to elsewhere? Certainly,
the rhythms of law and life are in some ways similar. From a comparative
perspective, many aspects of social life also move more slowly in Italian
culture than in Northern Europe or the United States. Relationships
typically depend on family or family-like group allegiances that take a long
time to build up. People are slow to leave home, they like to live near where
they grew up and to keep very close contact with their families. Ties that
are slow to build are also difficult to end. For the groups that occupy key
roles in social, economic and political life, co-option is the norm, seniority
is of considerable importance, and merit is gained to a large extent simply
by waiting one’s turn. In matters which involve government or public
agencies queuing is inevitable, the case file must be followed through all its
stages, and it may sometimes be necessary to intervene, personally or
preferably through an important intermediary, to secure a successful
outcome. There is much in common between the inefficient and over
bureaucratised justice system and the cumbersome and deliberately
unresponsive bureaucratic machine that takes refuge in legal formalities and
is uninterested in outcomes. Many of the delays attributed to inefficient
courts, so called ‘malgiustizia\ in fact represent efforts by the courts to deal
with the results of poor administration or so-called ‘maladministrazione\
Using the Concept of Legal Culture 25
question of where the role of the judges does (and should) stop and that of
other authorities begin. This has led to a running battle between the
judiciary and the politicians. Every day the newspapers carry stories about
allegedly improper interference by one side with the prerogatives of the
other. On the one hand the judges see themselves as preventing the
powerful escaping the exercise of ‘jurisdiction’, as they term the boundaries
of law’s empire; on the other hand, some politicians complain of the
exercise of political biased interventions by the judges.68
In the end, the lengthy court delays of the Italian legal system may be
one price to be paid for what is an extreme form of legal independence from
political control. Courts in this type of polity (and the legal culture which
goes with it) can, if needs be, take action against the most powerful in the
land. But, clearly, this level of activism cannot be sustained on an everyday
basis without upsetting those social norms that are geared to the
reproduction of social hierarchies. The Tangentopoli anti-corruption
investigations themselves demonstrate both the exception and the rule as far
as the place of legal delay within legal culture is concerned. In the special
political circumstances of the early 1990s (in particular the collapse of the
Iron curtain), ruling politicians lost legitimacy as soon as the newspapers
released the information that they had been sent ‘advice’ that legal
proceedings were being taken against them for corruption. But most of
these cases then took a large number of years to actually run their course
and virtually no one went to jail. The cycle of corruption scandals has now
come to an end. The current Berlusconi government has found that there is
much to gain from exploiting and increasing the possibilities of postponing
cases where its own legitimacy and interests are at stake. At the same time,
however, it regularly accuses the judges of being the major cause of
disgraceful delays.69
68
David Nelken, ‘Legitimate Suspicion? Berlusconi and the Judges’ in Paulo
Segatti and J Blondel (eds), The Second Berlusconi Government (2003) 112.