Not so fast: Nature versus the Common Law concludes

I haven't posted in the last few weeks, leading my friends at the Legal History Blog to reasonably conclude that my series on Nature versus the Common Law was finished. But now I have some time to post what is in fact the final installment in the series.

The posts in this series, based on my article in Clio@Themis, aimed to illustrate a once-common way of thinking about law and legal claims, in which the natural environment was held not only to provide the physical background on which polities and their legal systems existed, but to demand from these legal systems a measure of accommodation. For some judges, it is true, the demands of nature, however worthy or desirable from a social or economic point of view, had no place in court; a judge's role was to resist such claims in the name of the law. For many others, however, environmental realities might be imbued with normative force powerful enough to outweigh considerations of legal precedent and tradition. Moreover, while environmental differences could sometimes break the chains of black-letter law, environmental similarities might at the same time create new legal bonds, as in the Indian and Canadian cases that looked to the law of the independent United States of America, with is great rivers, for legal guidance. All this is to say that in the context of water law in the British Empire, nature could often be "jurisgenerative", to use Robert Cover's term – creating law.

The environmental rhetoric of these courts may, at first glance, seem but a particular instance of the wider phenomenon of colonial and newly independent courts working to stake out the independence of their legal systems from the law of the old country. Yet this would be a mistake: Most of the judges arguing for nature's normative force were themselves British; and in the cases examined here even judges of the independent United States argued not for a general rejection of the English common law, but for the inapplicability of some of its water law rules due to supposed environmental incompatibility.

In conclusion, though, it should be noted that this study has shown that nature also had a "jurispathic" role, impeding the smooth flow, or "transplant", of legal norms around the empire. Legal norms, in particular the common law, spread around the British Empire through a network of orders, legislation, publications, correspondence, educational institutions, career paths, and more. Yet the spread of norms, never smooth, was hampered by a number of factors, some of them natural : distance, forbidding seas, and monsoon winds, to name a few. These factors impeded the transmission of legal ideas and norms in all areas of law. At the same time, this study has highlighted an additional mechanism through which nature sometimes frustrated the spread of norms: perceived environmental similarity and difference.

Nature thus had a dual normative role in this context: creating new norms while at the same time extinguishing others. One need not take a deterministic view of the place of nature in legal history, nor recognize in nature any sort of agency of the intentional kind, to acknowledge that nature had an important role in constituting the connections that both facilitated and obstructed the global flow of water law in the age of empire.

Yet if the first set of law-impeding environmental factors, deriving from physical impediments to legal communication, has historically applied with similar force across all areas of law, the efficacy of the latter mechanism, based on perceived environmental factors, presumably has been correlated with the degree to which the area of law directly dealt with environmental issues. With regard to water law, as we have seen, whether environmental conditions in fact dictated or determined the rejection of common law norms, it is clear that judicial perceptions of nature did play a role in impeding the spread of English norms in this field. I have argued elsewhere that forest law, too, was at least in some contexts heavily influenced by perceptions of environmental foreignness and change. Further study might reveal similar patterns with regard to other related areas of law, from sanitation regulation to wildlife protection.

Happy spring holidays!

Weak states and the commons

Vincent Geloso and Félix Foucher-Paquin have posted "Weak States and the Commons: Fisheries and Economic Development in the Gaspesian Peninsula circa 1830". The abstract:

The inefficiencies of common property fisheries are well-known to economists. To avoid over-exploitation, they propose multiple forms of government solutions like taxes, quotas and the enforcement of property rights regimes designed to avoid over-harvesting. However, can there be efficient arrangements under statelessness or in the presence of weak states? One such example is the Gaspesian Peninsula (in the Canadian province of Quebec) during the first half of the 19th century. There, a single firm (the Charles Robin Company) came to dominate the market and it was able to effectively to restrict entry. In this paper, we unveil that it was able to do so by reducing the prices of imported goods that it would give to local fishermen in exchange for a part of their catch. This had the effect of deterring fishermen to contract with other merchants as well as deterring other merchants from entering the market. It also had the effect of making the region, contrary to what historians depict, richer than most regions of Canada at the time. We take this as an example of the ability to deal with commons problems in the presence of weak states.

Alexander Henderson, Causapscal River (1872-1875)

Nature versus the common law IV: Shifting watercourses

In the last posts in this series we looked at court decisions that discussed whether the ownership of rivers should follow the common law or change to reflect local environmental conditions. Another branch of water-related law dealt with the legal consequences of changes in the course of a river or a shoreline over time. The property-law questions thrown up by these changes, under the legal terms "alluvion" and "diluvion", were to whom newly formed dry land belonged – to the former owner of the dry land now submerged, or to the owner of the adjacent riverbed. The English rule, based on Roman law, was that gradual accumulations of land from water belonged to the to the owner of the land to which the new land was added, while gradual losses of land were lost to the landowner and became part of the river (Foster v Wright, 4 CPD 438 (1878)). Sudden changes in the course of a river, on the other hand, were held not to bring about changes in ownership of the bed.

One line of legal thought held that the English common law rules in this area of law applied everywhere. The English Court of Exchequer in 1839 (In re Hull and Selby Rwy, 151 English Reports 139 (Ex 1839)) opined that the common law of alluvion "is not peculiar to this country, but obtains also in others, and is founded on the necessity which exists for some such rule of law, for the permanent protection and adjustment of property." Similarly, seventy-five years later, the Privy Council rejected arguments that the English law did not apply to the Nigerian shoreline due to differences in the local conditions, Lord Shaw stating that the court did not doubt the "general applicability" of the English law of accretion. This, however, was the minority position.

Nature versus the common law III: Canadian and Indian rivers

Bhanutpt, Krishna River

In the previous post in this series, we looked at how nineteenth-century American courts debated whether the common law rules of riparian rights applied to the grand American rivers, seemingly so different from those of England. But the question of whether the common law applied to environments unlike England's soon arose in territories around the British Empire as well. Robert Travers has argued that while judges in England had used ideas of natural law to modify the common law, in India natural law arguments were used in some contexts to support the replacement of local law by English norms. Here, however, we see the reverse, with nature invoked to reject English rules of water law in favor of new norms, felt to be more appropriate to the local environment.

In an 1842 case (Esson v M’Master, 3 NBR 501 (1842)) the New Brunswick Supreme Court noted the "great difference in the character of the small rivers of England and those of this Province", but thought that this consideration "may be thought more fit for the Legislature than the Court ". Yet the same court in 1849 (Rowe v Titus, 6 NBR 326 (1849)) adopted the ruling of an American court, following the argument of counsel that:

The principles of the law of England, in respect to rivers, cannot be applied to this country : there the rivers are not subject to such sudden freshets, nor are they used for the same purposes as in this country ; the cases therefore on this subject in the United States, where the rivers are used for the same purposes as in this country, will be very important.

The idea that Canadian courts should follow American courts rather than English ones when dealing with rivers was not limited to New Brunswick. In an 1852 case (R v Meyers, 3 UCCP 305 (1852)), Chief Justice James Macaulay of the Upper Canada (Ontario) Court of Common Pleas, after examining the English precedents which normally would be thought binding in the British colony, demonstrated the legal power of geography over the common law by contrasting English precedents with decisions from "this side of the Atlantic", lumping together American and Canadian cases without distinguishing between them. Macaulay's judgment was also significant in ruling that the test for navigability of a river was its "natural capacity", not its use in practice, once again demonstrating the normative power of nature. The influence of American jurisprudence was evident as well in an 1882 opinion of Justice Samuel Strong of the Supreme Court of Canada :

I do not hesitate to say that the rule which appears to have been adopted as a principle of the common law as administered in England, that no rivers are to be considered in law as public and navigable above the ebb and flow of the tide, is not applicable to the great rivers of this continent, as has been determined by the Supreme Court of the United States and by the courts of most of the States […]

Negotiating regulatory science

More on the law-science nexus: The latest issue of Comtemporanea has an article by David Stradling, "Negotiating Regulatory Science. Dredging the Great Lakes in the Age of Ecology". The abstract:

In the mid-1960s residents around North America’s lower Great Lakes expressed growing concern about the dumping of dredge spoils in open waters, which they suspected of harming water quality. The act of dumping spoils, particularly from industrial harbors, became a target for government regulators eager to show progress in solving the environmental crisis. Scientific studies of dredging’s ecological impact and the regulation of dredging increased in Canada and the United States. The multiplicity of bureaucracies involved ensured that the International Joint Commission (IJC), established to resolve policy conflicts along the international border, would address the issue of dredging. The IJC response to the dredging conundrum provides a case study of how bureaucracies negotiated scientific knowledge in the age of ecology. Scientists turned data into knowledge and knowledge into policy guidance inside bureaucracies with conflicting missions that reflected divisions in the broader public. The public’s vague but powerful fear about sediment tainted by the industrial cities in which it accumulated forced the creation of a remarkable body of scientific knowledge related to how pollutants move through and accumulate in lake ecosystems. Activists forced governments to define pollution, to determine which of the many effluents of industrial cities affected human and ecological health, and at what concentrations they became a threat. In the age of ecology, regulation often outpaced science, and scientific research raced to meet public demands.

Levelling the Lake

Thank you to everyone who's assisted in putting together the list of sources on the legal history of epidemics; this is an ongoing project so please do send me any ideas for sources.

I'm also going to try catching up on the big backlog of posts I haven't had time to do, beginning with today's notice of Daniel Macfarlane's review for the Canadian Historical Review of Jamie Benidickson's new book, Levelling the Lake: Transboundary Resource Management in the Lake of the Woods Watershed (UBC Press, 2019). Macfarlane writes that the book

is a deep dive into a complex area defined by borders (both hydrological and political). Surveying the last half of the nineteenth century to the present, Benidickson unravels this complicated story of resource management in the Rainy-Lake of the Woods area, which spreads across northwestern Ontario, southeastern Manitoba, and northern Minnesota (including the border jog referred to as the Northwest Angle).

One of Canada's leading environmental law scholars, Benidickson has made a career of writing about Ontario's water. Part of UBC Press's Nature/History/ Society series, this book can be characterized as environmental, legal, policy, and institutional history. The central focus of Levelling the Lake is the history of environmental governance, chiefly on the Canadian, and Ontario, side of this watershed. The narrative moves back and forth between different places and scales: Kenora and Fort Frances, Queen's Park and federal Cabinet meetings, corporate boardrooms, and International Joint Commission (IJC) deliberations. This inquiry required research in multiple archives as well as the use of printed primary sources such as court cases and IJC reports. Benidickson manages to delineate the overlapping jurisdictions and policies while simultaneously weaving together various sectors that are often ignored or compartmentalized by authors attempting research projects at similar scales: hydropower, water levels, pollution, fisheries, mining, recreation, forestry, pulp and paper, and so on.

*****

Levelling the Lake painstakingly peels back the various layers and imprints that make up the palimpsest of overlapping and contested boundaries in this region. Benidickson is an ideal interlocutor, teasing out the strings of intertwined claims and histories in ways that shed light on modern resource disputes. To make the necessary legalese more accessible, the author effectively employs metaphors and analogies, such as using the game of musical chairs to simplify the muddled process of acquiring water-power sites in the region (63). Characterizing jurisdictional and border issues as "polycentric," the author does not get bogged down in theory or concepts. Thus, this book will appeal to an interested general audience as well as to environmental and resource scholars in a variety of academic disciplines spanning the social sciences and humanities; at the same time it is a must-read for historians of northern Ontario. 

The "government take" and environmental protection

Suncor oilsands mine near Fort McMurray (Todd Korol, Toronto Star)

Though Israel's coming elections revolve around other issues (and non-issues), a major political issue in Israel over the last decade has been how to divide the profits of the country's natural gas finds between the developers and the public (the legal owners of the resource). While environmental groups have argued - and this has also been my natural inclination - that the public's ownership should be expressed with a relatively large "government take" (the percentage of revenue paid over to the state in the form of royalties and taxes), I have also noted that increasing the government's financial interest in the gas decreases its motivation to effectively regulate the environmental aspects of its development.

Hereward Longley's recent article in Environment and History, "Conflicting Interests: Development Politics and the Environmental Regulation of the Alberta Oil Sands Industry, 1970–1980", provides historical support for this argument. The abstract:

This article examines the relationship between development politics and environmental regulation and research during the first commercial development phase of the oil sands industry. As demand for oil grew after the Second World War, and oil supplies from the Middle East became less stable, oil companies began building facilities to produce synthetic oil from the bitumen deposits in north-eastern Alberta. The commercialisation of the oil sands industry coincided with the formalisation of environmental policy at both the provincial and federal levels. When the Progressive Conservative Party, led by Premier Peter Lougheed, formed a government after winning the 1971 election, it strengthened and expanded the scope of environmental regulation into the mid-1970s. The 1973 oil crisis changed the economic viability and importance of the oil sands industry. For Lougheed, the oil sands industry became a cornerstone of the PC government’s goals to diversify the Alberta economy. To save the Syncrude project after Atlantic Richfield withdrew its thirty per cent stake in the consortium in December 1974, the Alberta government bought a ten per cent position along with the federal government and Ontario. This article argues that investing in the oil sands industry created a conflict of interest for the Alberta government, as it became both the regulator and the developer of the resource. Using a range of archival sources and oral history, it shows how Alberta’s environmental policies and research programmes were sidelined by the Lougheed government in the latter half of the 1970s, culminating in the cancellation of the Alberta Oil Sands Environmental Research Program in 1980. The marginalisation of environmental regulation and research has contributed to the environmental impacts of the oil sands industry on ecosystems and Indigenous communities, and limited public awareness of environmental change.

The Million-Dollar Duck

The American Historical Review recently published Miranda Johnson's "The Case of the Million-Dollar Duck: A Hunter, His Treaty, and the Bending of the Settler Contract". The abstract:

In settler states such as Canada, indigenous peoples’ claims for sovereignty in the late twentieth century became matters of intense public and political debate. Provoked by widespread indigenous rights activism of the 1970s, the Canadian state embarked on a large-scale examination of claims for rights and restitution. By focusing on the 1962 case of a duck hunter who insisted on his treaty right to hunt as he pleased in a Canadian borderlands region that was becoming more tightly woven into the fabric of the settler nation, this article argues for the value of recovering the discursive strategies of indigenous peoples in making sovereign claims prior to 1970s activism. I suggest that such claims were effective in bending the “settler contract,” which refers to the founding of settler states in dispossession and the silencing of indigenous actors. My approach brings to the fore a distinctive form of non-elite politics, what I call “treaty talk,” or the vernacular stories, civic rituals, and political disputes concerning the treaty promises that Canadian authorities made to northern indigenous communities earlier in the twentieth century. Although treaty talk did not break the settler contract, it posed a significant challenge to settler law and led one judge to reinvent a Canadian myth of benevolent empire.

Dene men gathered for Treaty Day at Fort Resolution, ca. 1924

Indigenous peoples, political economists and the tragedy of the commons

Next in our series on "The Tragedy of the Commons at 50" (the last post is here) is Michel Morin's "Indigenous Peoples, Political Economists and the Tragedy of the Commons". The abstract:

In “The Tragedy of the Commons,” Garrett Hardin implicitly moved from bounded commons — a pasture or a tribe’s territory — to the case of boundless commons — the ocean, the atmosphere and planet Earth. He insisted on the need for imposing limits on the use of these resources, blurring the difference between communal property and open access regimes. The success of his paper is due in great measure to his neglect of economic, scientific, legal  and anthropological literature. His main lifelong focus was on limiting population growth. He could have avoided the conceptual confusion he created by turning to well-known political economists such as John Locke and Adam Smith or, for that matter, jurists, such as Blackstone. Instead, he simply envisioned indigenous lands as an unbounded wilderness placed at the disposal of frontiersmen. Though he eventually acknowledged the existence of managed commons, he had little interest in community rules pertaining to resource exploitation. For him, these were simply moral norms which inevitably became ineffective after a community reached a certain level of population. He also took economists to task for failing to include in their analysis the true environmental and social costs of public decisions. Still, the famous example of the indigenous people of Northeastern Quebec illustrates a shortcoming of his analysis: community members did not act in total isolation from each other. On the contrary, communal norms could prevent an overexploitation of resources or allow for the adoption of corrective measures.

Beaver Hunting in Canada,
from Charles Theodore Middleton’s A New and Complete System of Geography…, after Chiedel, 1777-1778
(Library and Archives Canada)

Protection for polluters

“Roast Yard no. 2” in Copper Cliff (c. 1903),
providing a good idea of the damage the heap roasting inflicted on the local environment
(City of Greater Sudbury Heritage Images, Copper Cliff Museum Collection, CC0115)

Mark Kuhlberg and Scott Miller recently published "'Protection to the Sulphur-Smoke Tort-feasors': The Tragedy of Pollution in Sudbury, Ontario, the World’s Nickel Capital, 1884–1927" in the Canadian Historical Review. First, the abstract:

While there are many tales of mining companies polluting the Canadian communities in which they have operated, Sudbury’s early history stands out. It is arguably the most extreme example of an industry dictating to government how the latter dealt with the local pollution problem–in this case, sulphur dioxide emissions. The capstone achievement was the creation of an extrajudicial solution to the problem that permanently suspended the legal rights of residents seeking redress for their grievances. Moreover, the Ontario government was duplicitous in this affair–namely, by zealously luring settlers to the region in an effort to develop farming there even though it was acutely aware of the local pollution problem. Finally, this story is truly tragic because the pollution need never have happened to the extent that it did. The provincial politicians knew full well that the means existed–within a short jaunt of Sudbury no less–to mitigate the problem, but the politicians refused to force the mining firms to adopt them. Retelling Sudbury’s story thus highlights how the Ontario government’s decision to grant the mining firms practical impunity to pollute the local environment–both human and non-human–was a matter of political choice.

The article details the many legal tactics taken by the mining companies to avoid an injunction that might shut down their operations, the most extreme of which was the "extrajudicial solution" mentioned above. Said solution was one which has also reared its head in recent times - compulsory arbitration. The article explains the Ontario Act to Provide Compensation for Damage caused by Sulphur Fumes of 1921 (citations omitted):

The constitutional background of the Migratory Bird Treaty

Ecology Law Quarterly recently published a student note by Emma Hamilton, "A Relic of the Past or the Future of Environmental Criminal Law? An Argument for a Broad Interpretation of Liability under the Migratory Bird Treaty Act". The note is mostly normative, but it has an interesting introductory section (apparently relying heavily on Kurk Dorsey's 1998 The Dawn of Conservation Diplomacy). Hamilton explains (notes omitted) that:

early congressional attempts to regulate bird hunting in the United States were driven by broad concerns about conserving and stabilizing bird populations as an important shared resource. After years of advocacy and lobbying, conservationists, scientists, and recreational hunters who wanted to achieve sustainable populations of game birds succeeded in passing the Weeks–McLean Migratory Bird Act in 1913. The Weeks–McLean Act criminalized the killing and transport of migratory birds across state lines within the United States but was declared unconstitutional by two federal district courts for violating the Commerce Clause. Recognizing these constitutional concerns, conservationists pushed ahead to negotiate the international Migratory Bird Treaty with Canada. The constitutional question was declared moot following the ratification of the Treaty, because the Treaty and the subsequent MBTA replaced the Weeks–McClean Act as the federal statutory scheme for protecting migratory birds.

Echoing the goals of the Weeks–McLean Act, the two nations negotiated the Treaty to curb the indiscriminate slaughter of migratory birds and conserve their populations for the future. The Treaty was formalized on August 16, 1916 and ratified by both nations later that year. The Treaty emphasized the particular dangers birds face when their migratory patterns and ability to nest are disrupted. It further recognized that the migratory nature of birds created an additional difficulty in protecting them, as their constant movement across state and even international lines reduced the effectiveness of state game laws aimed at conserving bird populations. As one congressman opined on the House floor during debate over the MBTA:

"Everyone will admit the necessity of preserving these . . . birds. How may they be conserved? . . . No single State may do so. Perhaps it is not too broad a statement to say that even the United States could not do so . . . and it has become evident that if we are to have any effective law which shall preserve these valuable birds that serve such a useful and necessary purpose it must be through the joint action of both countries." 

Policy symbolism and regulatory standardization

Toronto Terminals Railway Central Heating Plant, 1929

Working through my backlog, I recently came across Owen Temby's 2015 article in Planning Perspectives, "Policy symbolism and air pollution in Toronto and Ontario, 1963–1967". The article has an interesting take on the secular movement of environmental regulation from the local level to higher levels of government. The argument that industry had more influence at the provincial level than at the municipal level is interesting since environmental groups are also often assumed to prefer higher levels of government, where they can better concentrate the diffuse environmental interests of the public. The article also cuts against the assumption that local regulation was relatively weak, and that the national-level regulation of the 1960s and later was some kind of victory for environmental interests. Food for thought.

The abstract:

In 1967, jurisdiction over clean air policy in Toronto and the rest of Ontario's municipalities was transferred to the provincial government. Even though the municipalities had obtained extensive authority to regulate air pollution within their own boundaries nine years earlier, the vast majority (apart from Toronto) had not developed clean air programmes. Yet air pollution was a highly salient issue that aroused considerable public attention and local activism. This paper provides an account of the provincial takeover in air pollution, focusing on two factors enabling the Ontario government to pass two statutes transferring authority from municipalities to the provincial Department of Health. First, despite resistance in Toronto, the policy change was favoured by industry, which had more influence in the provincial government than across municipalities. Second, the inherently symbolic features of clean air policy allowed the provincial government to satisfy public demand for action while not appreciably creating more stringent regulations. These findings are consistent with studies of US clean air policy displaying a similar tendency among industry to support regulatory standardization across broad political scales.

Transboundary governance

Murray Clamen and Daniel Macfarlane recently posted "The International Joint Commission, Water Levels, and Transboundary Governance in the Great Lakes". The abstract:

This article provides a historical background of the evolution of transboundary water governance and environmental diplomacy in the Great Lakes–St. Lawrence basin, with a focus on the International Joint Commission (IJC), during the twentieth century. This study focuses on water quantity issues, such as diversions, canals, hydroelectric developments, control works, and water levels, revealing the range of  artificial and natural impacts on water levels in the Great Lakes–St. Lawrence basin. Doing so provides for a revealing examination of the IJC, which has traditionally been the main forum in which Canada and the United States manage their environmental relations and border water issues, which allows for an engagement with a range of North American transboundary governance theories. While the IJC is often lauded as a model of transnational environmental cooperation, this paper demonstrates that the evolution of this bilateral institution up to the 1960s is more complicated.

Canadian water law

The McGill Journal of Sustainable Development Law recently published an article by Jamie Benidickson, "The Evolution of Canadian Water Law and Policy: Securing Safe and Sustainable Abundance". The abstract:

Canadian water law has evolved over an extended period of time as a complex mixture of federal and provincial legislation and case law with provincial arrangements influenced by both riparian and prior appropriation doctrine as well as by the civil law tradition of Quebec. The article reviews highlights from the long-term evolution of Canadian water law, policy and institutions following a chronological path from Confederation in 1867 to the present. Three key shifts that have more recently begun to appear in background assumptions of Canadian water law are then identified. In particular, it is noted (1) that general confidence in the abundance of water is giving way to concerns over security and occasional scarcity, (2) that the primacy of human water uses is gradually being moderated by acknowledgement of the importance of environmental flows, and (3) that international considerations may be relevant to a greater degree than previously contemplated. The concluding section of the paper presents emerging policy directions in relation to the legacy of historic water law and policy decisions and the shifting assumptions previously reviewed with emphasis on sustainability, conservation initiatives and watershed frameworks.

Vermillion River, Kootenay National Park

For pre-1867 Canadian water law, see the recent series beginning here.

Inter-imperial riparian law IV: The attraction of American law

Yesterday I discussed the extensive use water law judicial decisions in the courts of Lower Canada, with its pre-revolutionary French property law, made of American sources. Today I discuss why they may have looked to a jurisdiction that had never belonged to the old empire from which the local law derived, and no longer belonged to the new empire of which Canada was now a part.

 Hon. Justice T.C. Aylwin (Library and Archives Canada)

In his dissent in the 1859 case of Boswell v. Denis Judge Aylwin indicated one reason why Canadians may have preferred American law over French in some cases. According to French law, a ‘navigable and floatable’ river was a public one, in which the public enjoyed rights that could not be impaired by the riparian owners. As the river in question in Boswell, the Jacques-Cartier, contained rapids and was therefore not ‘navigable’ by boat traffic, the majority of the court straightforwardly applied the French test and ruled that it could not be considered a public river. Aylwin objected to this analysis: ‘Our rivers cannot be compared with those of France or Europe; the Jacques Cartier is a good sized river and has plenty of water,—it has rapids it is true, but […] I believe the river to be both navigable and flottable.’ Following a tradition going back to Montesquieu and further, Aylwin argued that French law could not apply unmodified in North America, as it was developed for a different set of environmental circumstances. Similarly, in a 1905 case Justice Trenholme of the Quebec King’s Bench noted that American authorities on the question of navigability ‘possess more than ordinary interest for Canadian Courts, as the conditions there were and are precisely like those in our country’.

Yet it seems this was not the only reason for Canadians’ turn to American water law. Returning to Brown v. Gugy, it is significant that the American case which Judge Aylwin preferred over the lower court’s ruling was from Louisiana, the only American state which based its legal system on (French) civil law. Moreover, Kent’s discussion of water law (like his discussions of many other subjects) was replete with references to civilian sources. In the pages quoted in Aylwin’s opinion (sections 6 and 7 of Kent’s Lecture 52), the American jurist cited a large number of American and English cases, as was appropriate for a work purporting to be a commentary on American law, but his very first citations were to civilian sources: Justinian’s Digest, Pothier’s Traité du Contrat de Société and Toullier’s Droit Civil Français. Later in the section, he cited again to Pothier, quoted with approval a maxim of Roman law and stated that the Code Napoléon established the same rule as said maxim.

Later commentators have divided as to what extent Kent’s use of civilian sources was substantial or rather mere window dressing, with Alan Watson arguing that Kent’s use of the Roman and French sources in the section cited above was riddled with errors and that it provided little support to his exposition of riparian rights.  Nonetheless it seems that Judge Aylwin saw Kent as a good civilian source, prefacing his long quote from the Commentaries thus:

Inter-imperial riparian law III: American sources of French-Canadian water law

Continuing where yesterday's post left off:

Canada’s broad St. Lawrence River and its tributaries were the sites of intensive water use in the mid-nineteenth century. They served as fishing grounds, highways for water craft, conduits for floating logs and sources of power for both traditional grist mills and new industrial facilities. Uses and users often came into conflict, and these conflicts often landed up in court.

Jonathan Sewell
(Appleton's Cyclopaedia of American Biography, 1900)

The earliest fully reported case of this type was the 1832 case of Oliva v. Boissonnault. James Oliva sued Nicolas Boissonnault in the court of King’s Bench, District of Quebec, for placing obstructions in the Rivière du Sud, blocking the floating of logs downstream to the St. Lawrence. Chief Justice Jonathan Sewell ruled for Oliva, explaining that under French law the public had a right of passage on every stream capable of floating logs or rafts. Alongside his discussion of French law, he noted that the public’s right was the same in England and America, citing Kent’s Commentaries with regard to the latter. Two years later St. Louis v. St. Louis, another water law dispute, reached the courts. This time the case involved a riparian landholder diverting water through a canal to his sawmill so that it bypassed the gristmill and carding and fulling mill of his downstream neighbours. Sewell, sitting this time in the Provincial Court of Appeals, again cited Kent, here in support of the proposition that a riparian landowner might ‘conduct such portion of the stream as he requires for the amelioration of his - property by canals or otherwise through the extent of the land which he occupies, but he must return it to the stream before it reaches the confines of his neighbour’s estate’.

Inter-imperial riparian law II: The Law in Miner v. Gilmour

Continuing where yesterday's post left off:

As the judges of the Privy Council recognized, the law governing the conflict between Miner and Gilmour over the waters of the Yamaska was not English law. Quebec, before being conquered by the British in 1760, had been part of the French Empire. A royal edict of 1663 had declared the law of New France to be the law as applied in the Parlement of Paris.  This law included royal ordinances, Roman law as expounded by jurists, and the sixteenth-century official collection of the customary law of Paris known as the Coutume de Paris. The Quebec Act of 1774, passed by the British Parliament a few years after the British conquest of Canada from France, declared that the laws of property existing in the province of Quebec pre-conquest would remain in force under British rule.

The water law applicable to the case at hand was thus the law of the old French Empire, that is to say the law of ancien régime Paris, ironically no longer in force in France itself after the adoption of the Napoleonic Code in 1804, but preserved in British colonies that had been conquered from the French. Indeed, the lawyers arguing the case before the British court in Westminster cited the civilian Digest of Justinian, the great French scholar Pothier and said Custom of Paris.

Sitting of a Judicial Committee of the Privy Council
(Illustrated London News, vol. 8, no. 206, 11 April, 1846, p. 1)

The encounter between French and English law did not end with this infusion of French imperial law into a British imperial courtroom, nor with its application by British judges at the seat of imperial power. Despite the lack of formal authority for English common law in the civil-law jurisdiction of Canada East, the lawyers for Miner and Gilmour before the Privy Council cited not only the civilian sources mentioned above, but also recent English case law on the subject of riparian rights. The judges of the Judicial Committee were impressed with the ‘great learning and ingenuity’ displayed by counsel, and scheduled an unusual second round of oral arguments. Yet after all this learning and argument, they arrived at a surprising conclusion: ‘It did not appear that, for the purposes of this case, any material distinction exists between the French and the English law.’ According to both legal systems, the court opined, Miner could not demand that Gilmour keep the dam gate closed all the time, since a riparian proprietor had ‘no right to interrupt the regular flow of the stream, if he thereby interferes with the lawful use of the water by other proprietors, and inflicts upon them a sensible injury’.

The decision’s exposition of this and other principles of what Lord Kingsdown, writing for the court, termed the ‘general law applicable to running streams’—that is to say the law of riparian rights, according to him common to French and English law—went on to be cited extensively throughout the British Empire and beyond as the definitive statement of the rules of riparian rights in the common-law world, as will be discussed in a later post.

Inter-imperial riparian law I - Introduction: Inter-imperial law in an inter-imperial court

It seems I forgot to mention my own article when I posted it a while back. "Riparian Rights in Lower Canada and Canada East: Inter-Imperial Legal Influences" was published as chapter 4 of Imperial Co-operation and Transfer, 1870-1930: Empires and Encounters (Roland Cvetkovski & Volker Barth eds., Bloomsbury, 2015). I'll do a few posts based on the article now; for the full version, please see the book.

One of the most dynamic areas of law in the nineteenth-century Anglo-American world was that of water rights, or, as it was typically denoted then, “riparian rights”. This body of law dealt with the relative rights of owners of land adjacent to water—riparian land—to use the flowing waters, whether for power, irrigation, transportation, fishing, or waste disposal. The historical development of the law in this field in the nineteenth century has been analysed from several points of view, including economic property theory and Marxian legal history.  Transnational aspects of the subject have not been neglected, as some have highlighted the transatlantic—that is, Anglo-American—framework in which this body of doctrine developed, and others have examined the use of Continental, civil law sources by some of the American jurists responsible for that development.  Yet the inter-imperial aspect of this story, in particular the meeting of the laws of the British and French Empires, has gone unremarked.

The court case of Miner v. Gilmour can be seen as the epicentre of this inter-imperial encounter. The case began as a conflict in the 1850s between two prominent citizens of the Eastern Townships village of Granby, in the part of Canada then known as Canada East (in the half century preceding 1841 called Lower Canada, the southern part of today’s Quebec). Harlow Miner’s tannery on the south bank of the Yamaska River, the town’s major industrial enterprise, was powered by water directed from a dam in the river, but Francis Gilmour, the town’s store-keeper, had been opening a sluice on the north side of the dam in order to allow the water to flow through and power his gristmill downstream. In order to put a stop to Gilmour’s interference with his business, Miner brought a lawsuit in the Superior Court of the District of Montreal.  When the court ruled in Miner’s favour, ordering Gilmour to cease and desist diverting water away from Miner’s mill, Gilmour brought an appeal to the Court of Queen’s Bench of Canada. Here the decision went in his favour, and the court dismissed the plaintiff’s suit. Unsatisfied with this result, it was Miner who appealed this time, making use of the only remaining judicial recourse available to him, an appeal to the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council in London.

The Privy Council, an organ of the British monarchy, was for years the executive body through which British overseas possessions were governed, also hearing appeals from the courts of these colonies. In 1833, in an effort to give these appeals a more judicial character, Parliament created the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council, composed primarily of judges from other British high courts. Though formally not a court of law—the members of the committee did not wear judicial garb, they sat around a table with the parties’ counsel and their decisions were, strictly speaking, merely recommendations to the monarch, who would then issue an order giving force to the recommendation—in practice it functioned like a court, and was treated as such by all. This new judicial body was tasked with hearing appeals from overseas possessions (as well as from the British court of Admiralty and ecclesiastical courts).

The Judicial Committee, hearing cases from far-flung possessions around the globe, was an imperial institution par excellence. The nature of litigation in the common law, adversarial, system—in which the parties, not the state, generally determined if and when court proceedings would be conducted, and on what legal grounds—meant that the court’s agenda was largely shaped by the decisions of litigants in the courts below. Nonetheless the Judicial Committee’s worldwide jurisdiction, along with its judges’ parallel tenures on other British high courts, gave it a potentially harmonizing and homogenizing role; ‘The assumption was that there could be cohesion and certainty in the legal system of the Empire only if appeals could be referred up to a judicial body in London.’ (Cornish, Lobban, Smith, "Empire’s Law", p. 245)

At the same time the Judicial Committee was in effect an inter-imperial institution.

Property law and flooding

William Smyth Maynard Wolfe, “Maugerville on the St. John River, New Brunswick”
(1853/1854)

Continuing our trend on water, the Osgoode Society recently announced that Jason Hall has won its Peter Oliver Prize for best published student writing for his article, "High Freshets and Low-Lying Farms: Property Law and St. John River Flooding in Colonial New Brunswick". The abstract:

Although New Brunswick was founded on private land ownership, colonists who settled low-lying land along the St. John River found that the waterway's erratic flood cycle and ever-changing nature threatened their lives and farms, and thwarted their efforts to divide riverbanks and islands into fixed parcels of private  property. This article draws upon colonial petitions, sessional court records, and colonial legislation in analyzing the response of the colonial legislature and of local governance to the challenge that the St. John River created for property rights and a private land management system dependent on static boundaries and fixed fences. In examining the colonists' attempts to adapt property law to foster appropriate responses to their changing environment and social needs, this article provides insight into the evolution of colonial law, local governance, the ecological knowledge of farmers, social conflict, and adaptations to flooding in early New Brunswick.

Lessons from tobacco for the future of climate change liability

The law surrounding the health effects of tobacco are an important precedent for many environmental law issues (see here and here). Now Martin Olszynski, Sharon Mascher, and Meinhard Doelle recently posted "From Smokes to Smokestacks: Lessons from Tobacco for the Future of Climate Change Liability". The abstract:

In this article, we imagine a future Canada (circa 2030) wherein the world has managed to avoid the worst climate change but nevertheless has begun to experience considerable warming. Governments of all levels, but especially provincial ones, are incurring unprecedented costs to mitigate the effects of climate change and to adapt to new and uncertain climatic regimes. We then consider how legislatures might respond to these challenges. In our view, the answer may lie in the unprecedented story of tobacco liability, and especially the promulgation in the late 1990s of provincial legislation specifically designed to enable provinces to recover the public healthcare costs of tobacco-related disease. Although comparisons between the tobacco industry and the fossil-fuel industry are increasingly common, this article is the first to consider the legally-relevant differences and similarities between these two contexts in detail. It also sets out the main elements of a potential Climate Change Damages and Adaptation Costs Recovery Act. As will be seen, the design of such legislation engages several complex legal issues, implicating not only tort doctrine but also questions of legislative competence and private international law. Nevertheless, our initial assessment is that such legislation is both likely and feasible. Our analysis focuses primarily on Canadian law but should also be relevant to other jurisdictions that are increasingly grappling with the costs of climate change mitigation and adaptation.