You are on page 1of 17

CHAPTER ELEVEN:

PROCEDURAL NATURAL LAW

I. INTRODUCTION

Lon Fuller’s debates with H.L.A. Hart during the 1950s and 1960s generated much interest, enthusiasm,
and excitement in jurisprudential circles. It formally began with Hart’s “Positivism and the Separation
between Law and Morals,” in the Harvard Law Review in 1958 to which Fuller responded in that same
year in the same law review with the article, “Positivism and Fidelity to Law.”

Their debate ran along several lines: the dependency or lack of it of the positivist doctrine of the
separation of law and morals on the Command Theory of Law, the purposive nature of legal reasoning,
the explanation of Nazi law along positivist and naturalistic terms, and the doctrine of the separation of
law and morals in general. Fuller then argued that the purposive nature of law argued for such a
connection to exist.

Hence, Fuller’s version of natural law is, unlike Classical Natural Law, methodological or procedural in
character, owing from the law’s purposive nature. He argues in brief that due to law’s purpose and its
processes law tends to become moral.

Their debates extended to the 1960s when Hart wrote his seminal book The Concept of Law in 1961.
Fuller responded with his own book, The Morality of Law, where he challenged Hart’s main ideas.
Fuller’s theory of law in that book develops his ideas in the Harvard article and embodies the exposition
of his theory that follows.

II. METHODOLOGY

Fuller’s theory of law is a methodological or procedural natural law, which emphasizes the law’s
purposive character.

“What I have tried to do is to discern and articulate the natural laws of a particular kind of
human undertaking which I have described as ‘the enterprise of subjecting human
conduct to the governance of rules.’ These natural laws have nothing to do with any
‘brooding omnipresence in the skies.’ Nor have they the slightest affinity with any such
proposition as that the practice of contraception is a violation of God’s law. They remain
entirely terrestrial in origin and application. They are not ‘higher’ laws; if any metaphor
of elevation is appropriate they should be called ‘lower’ laws. They are like the natural
laws of carpentry, or at least those laws respected by a carpenter who wants the house he
builds to remain standing and serve the purpose of those who live in it.

...

As a convenient (though not wholly satisfactory) way of describing the distinction being
taken we may speak of a procedural, as distinguished from a substantive, natural law.
What I have called the internal morality of law is in this sense a procedural version of
natural law, though to avoid misunderstanding, the word ‘procedural’ should be assigned
a special and expanded sense so that it would include, for example, a substantive accord
between official action and enacted law. The term ‘procedural’ is, however, broadly
appropriate as indicating that we are concerned, not with substantive aims of legal rules,
but with the ways in which a system of rules for governing human conduct must be
constructed and administered if it is to be efficacious and at the same time remain what it
purports to be.”1

He thus was concerned with the processes of law and, as he viewed law in terms of its purpose within an
extended time-frame, he could not but conclude that the law that was produced had to be moral as a
result.

III. THE TWO MORALITIES

Central to Fuller’s theory of law is the concept of the two moralities, the morality of duty and the morality
of aspiration. Law ought to be judged in terms of a morality of aspiration, in terms of what it is trying to
become.

“The morality of aspiration is most plainly exemplified in Greek philosophy. It is the


morality of the Good Life, of excellence, of the fullest realization of human powers. In a
morality if aspiration there may be overtones of a notion approaching that of duty. But
these overtones are usually muted, as they are in Plato and Aristotle. Those thinkers
recognized, of course, that a man might fail to realize his fullest capabilities. As a citizen
or as an official, he might be found wanting. But in such a case he was condemned for
failure, not for being recreant to duty; for shortcoming, not for wrongdoing. Generally
with the Greeks instead of ideas of right and wrong, of moral claim and moral duty, we
have rather the conception of proper and fitting conduct, conduct such as beseems a
human being functioning at his best.

Where the morality of aspiration starts at the top of human achievement, the morality of
duty starts at the bottom. It lays down the basic rules without which an ordered society is
impossible, or without which an ordered society directed toward certain specific goals
must fail of its mark. It is the morality of the Old Testament and the Ten
Commandments. It speaks in terms of ‘thou shalt not,’ and less frequently of ’thou
shalt.’ It does not condemn men for failing to embrace opportunities for the fullest
realization of their powers. Instead, it condemns them for failing to respect the basic
requirements of social living.”2

IV. THE INTERNAL MORALITY OF LAW

In his debate with Hart in the Harvard Law Journal, Fuller explicated their differences. This led to a
firmer understanding not only of their differences but of the internal morality of law.

“First, Professor Hart seems to assume that evil aims may have as much coherence and
inner logic as good ones. I, for one, refuse to accept that assumption. I realize that I am
here raising, or perhaps dodging, questions that lead into the most difficult problems of
the epistemology of ethics. Even if I were competent to undertake an excursus in that
direction, this is not the place for it. I shall have to rest on the assertion of a belief that
may seem naïve, namely, that coherence and goodness have more affinity than coherence
and evil. Accepting this belief, I also believe that when men are compelled to explain
and justify their decisions, the effect will generally be to pull those decisions towards
goodness, by whatever standards of ultimate goodness there are. Accepting these beliefs,
I find a considerable incongruity in any conception that envisages a possible future in

1
Lon Fuller, The Morality of Law, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1964, pp. 96-97.
2
Id., pp. 5-6.

221
which the common law would ‘work itself pure from case to case’ toward a more perfect
realization of iniquity.

Second, if there is a serious danger in our society that a weakening of the partition
between law and morality would permit an infusion of ‘immoral morality,’ the question
remains, what is the most effective protection against this danger? I cannot myself
believe it is to be found in the positivist position espoused by Austin, Gray, Holmes, and
Hart. For those writers seem to me to falsify the problem into a specious simplicity
which leaves untouched the difficult issues where real dangers lie.

Third, let us suppose a judge bent on realizing through his decisions an objective that
most ordinary citizens would regard as mistaken or evil. Would such a judge be likely to
suspend the letter of the statute by openly invoking a ‘higher law’? Or would he be more
likely to take refuge behind the maxim that ‘law is law’ and explain his decision in such a
way that it would appear to be demanded by the law itself?

Fourth, neither Professor Hart nor I belong to anything that could be said in a significant
sense to be a ‘minority group’ in our respective countries. This has its advantages and
disadvantages to one aspiring a philosophic view of law and government. But suppose
we were both transported to a country where our beliefs were anathemas, and where we,
in turn, regarded the prevailing morality as thoroughly evil. No doubt in this situation we
would have reason to fear that the law might be covertly manipulated to our
disadvantage. I doubt if either of us would be apprehensive that its injunctions would be
set aside by an appeal to a morality higher than law. If we felt that the law itself was our
safest refuge, would it not be because even in the most perverted regimes there is a
certain hesitancy about writing cruelties, intolerances, and inhumanities into law? And is
it not clear that this hesitancy itself derives, not from a separation of law and morals, but
precisely from an identification of law with those demands of morality that are the most
urgent and the most obviously justifiable, which no man need be ashamed to profess.

Fifth, over great areas where the judicial process functions, the danger of an infusion of
immoral, or at least unwelcome, morality does not, I suggest, present a real issue. Here
the danger is precisely the opposite. For example, in the field of commercial law the
British courts in recent years have, if I may say so, fallen into a ‘law-is-law’ formalism
that constitutes a kind of belated counterrevolution against all that was accomplished by
Mansfield. The matter has reached a stage approaching crisis as commercial cases are
increasingly being taken to arbitration. The chief reason for this development is that
arbitrators are willing to take into account the needs of commerce and ordinary standards
of commercial fairness. I realize that Professor Hart repudiates ‘formalism,’ but I shall
try to show later why I think his theory necessarily leads in that direction.

Sixth, in the thinking of many there is one question that predominates in any discussion
of the relation of law and morals, to the point of coloring everything that is said or hard
on the subject. I refer to the kind of question raised by the Pope’s pronouncement
concerning the duty of Catholic judges in divorce actions. This pronouncement does
indeed raise grave issues. But it does not present a problem of the relation between law,
on the one hand, and, on the other, generally shared views of right conduct that have
grown spontaneously through experience and discussion. The issue is rather that of a
conflict between two pronouncements, both of which claim to be authoritative; if you
will, it is one kind of law against another. When this kind of issue is taken as the key to
the whole problem of law and morality, the discussion is so denatured and distorted that

222
profitable exchange becomes impossible. In mentioning this last aspect of the dispute
about ‘positivism,’ I do not mean to intimate that Professor Hart’s own discussion is
dominated by any arriere-pensee; I know it is not. At the same time I am quite sure that
I have indicated accurately the issue that will be uppermost in the minds of many as they
read this essay.”3

Fuller then explained the concept of an internal morality to law.

“The question may now be raised, therefore, as to the nature of these fundamental rules
that furnish the framework within which the making of law takes place. On the one hand,
they seem to be rules, not of law, but of morality. They derive their efficacy from a
general acceptance, which in turn rests ultimately on a perception that they are right and
necessary. They can hardly be said to be law in the sense of an authoritative
pronouncement, since their function is to state when a pronouncement is authoritative.
On the other hand, in the daily functioning of the legal system they are often treated and
applied much as ordinary rules of law are. Here, then, we confess there is something that
can be called a ‘merger’ of law and morality, and to which the term ‘intersection’ is
scarcely appropriate.”4

Fuller continues.

“Law, considered merely as an order, contains, then, its own implicit morality. This
morality of order must be respected if we are to create anything that can be called law,
even bad law. Law by itself is powerless to bring this morality into existence. Until our
monarch is really ready to face the responsibilities of his position, it will do no good for
him to issue still another futile command, this time self-addressed and threatening
himself with punishment if he does not mend his ways.

There is a twofold sense in which it is true that law cannot be built on law. First of all,
the authority to make law must be supported by moral attitudes that accord to it the
competency it claims. Here we are dealing with a morality external to law, which makes
law possible. But this alone is not enough. We may stipulate that in our monarchy the
accepted ‘basic norm’ designates the monarch himself as the only possible source of law.
We still cannot have law until our monarch is ready to accept the internal morality of law
itself.

In the life of a nation these external and internal moralities of law reciprocally influence
one another; a deterioration of the one will almost inevitably produce a deterioration in
the other. So closely related are they that when the anthropologist Lowie speaks of ‘the
generally accepted ethical postulates underlying our . . . legal institutions as their ultimate
sanction and guaranteeing their smooth functioning,’ he may be presumed to have both of
them in mind.

What I have called ‘the internal morality of law’ seems to be almost neglected by
Professor Hart. He does make brief mention of ‘justice in the administration of the law,’
which consists in the like treatment of like cases, by whatever elevated or perverted

3
Lon Fuller, “Positivism and Fidelity to Law,” Society, Law, and Morality, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall Inc., 1961,
pp. 474-476.
4
Id., p. 476.

223
standards the word ‘like’ may be defined. But he quickly dismisses this aspect of law as
having no special relevance to the main enterprise.

In this I believe he is profoundly mistaken. It is his neglect to analyze the demands of a


morality of order to treat law as a datum projecting itself into human experience and not
as an object of human striving. When we realize that order itself is something that must
be worked for, it becomes apparent that the existence of a legal system, even a bad or evil
legal system, is always a matter of degree. When we recognize this simple fact of
everyday legal experience, it becomes impossible to dismiss the problems presented by
the Nazi regime with a simple assertion: ‘Under the Nazis there was law, even if it was
bad law.’ We have instead to inquire how much of a legal system survived the general
debasement and perversion of all forms of social order that occurred under the Nazi rule,
and what moral implications this mutilated system had for the conscientious citizen
forced to live under it.”5

In his book, The Morality of Law, Fuller developed his ideas into completion. He explained that there are
eight ways to satisfy the morality of aspiration, otherwise known as the eight ways to fail to make law.

“Rex’s bungling career as legislator and judge illustrates that the attempt to create and
maintain a system of legal rules may miscarry in at least eight ways; there are in this
enterprise, if you will, eight distinct routes to disaster. The first and most obvious lies in
a failure to achieve rules at all, so that every issue must be decided on an ad hoc basis.
The other routes are: (2) a failure to publicize, or at least to make available to the affected
party, the rules he is expected to observe; (3) the abuse of retroactive legislation, which
not only cannot itself guide action, but undercuts the integrity of rules prospective in
effect, since it puts them under the threat of retrospective change; (4) a failure to make
rules understandable; (5) the enactment of contradictory rules; or (6) rules that require
conduct beyond the powers of the affected party; (7) introducing such frequent changes
in the rules that the subject cannot orient his action by them; and, finally, (8) a failure of
congruence between the rules as announced and their actual administration.” 6

Corresponding to these eight ways to fail to make law are the eight requirements to law, which he calls
the law’s internal morality. Hence, laws must be general, public, prospective, clear, consistent, capable of
being complied with, constant through time, and congruent with official behavior.

These, in turn, correlate to eight kinds of legal excellence.

“Corresponding to these are eight kinds of legal excellence toward which a system of
rules may strive. What appear at the lowest level as indispensable conditions for the
existence of law at all, become, as we ascend the scale of achievement, increasingly
demanding challenges to human capacity. At the height of the ascent we are tempted to
imagine a utopia of legality in which all rules are perfectly clear, consistent with one
another, known to every citizen, and never retroactive. In this utopia the rules remain
constant through time, demand only what is possible, and are scrupulously observed by
courts, police, and everyone else charged with their administration. For reasons that I
shall advance shortly, this utopia, in which all of the eight principles of legality are
realized to perfection, is not actually a useful target for guiding the impulse toward

5
Id., p. 482.
6
Id., pp. 38-39.

224
legality; the goal of perfection is much more complex. Nevertheless it does suggest eight
distinct standards by which excellence in legality may be tested.” 7

The point of Fuller is clear. If a legal system satisfies these eight legal excellences, then it satisfies the
requirements of being law and at the same time cannot fail to be moral.

It remains to show how these eight requirements enable the enterprise of subjecting human conduct to the
governance of rules. Without generality, there will be insufficient guidance. Rules must be suitably
general to inform the public or citizenry as to what to do or how to behave. Secondly, rules must be made
public; if not, again people would not know how to behave. Thirdly, rules must be prospective. Rules
with a retrospective effect can no longer guide individuals as to the past. Applied prospectively,
individuals would now know what conduct to avoid. An element of fairness comes with this requirement.
Quite often, punishment is meted to those who break the law. It is but fair that the individual know what
conduct to avoid to escape punishment. This is made more telling in face of the expectation that
ignorance of the law is no excuse. Fourthly, laws must be clear; otherwise they will again fail to
prescribe what is to be done. Fifthly, laws must be consistent. This is because inconsistencies give rise to
mixed signals and therefore again fail to guide. Sixthly, laws must not require the impossible, lest the
individual be punished for something he could not avoid doing. Finally, there must be some congruence
between official behavior and the prescriptions of the law. Officials, in toher words, ought to apply the
law. Otherwise, citizens will get away with illegal behavior and the enterprise of law once again fails.

This concept of law is to be contrasted with the positivist concept of H.L.A. Hart and Joseph Raz.
Whereas law to Fuller is purposive and processual, law to Hart and Raz is factual and static. Fuller
defined it therefore as “the enterprise of subjecting human conduct to the governance of rules.”

“Our next task is to bring the view of law implicit in these chapters into its proper
relation with current definitions of positive law. The only formula that might be called a
definition of law offered in these writings is by now thoroughly familiar: law is the
enterprise of subjecting human conduct to the governance of rules. Unlike most modern
theories of law, this view treats law as an activity and regards a legal system as the
product of a sustained purposive effort. Let us compare the implications of such a view
with others that might be opposed to it.”8

Fuller adds:

“The many different oppositions of viewpoint that have been examined in this chapter
may be said to reflect in shifting contexts a single, underlying disagreement. The nature
of this fundamental divergence may be expressed in these terms: I have insisted that law
be viewed as a purposeful enterprise, dependent for its success on the energy, insight,
intelligence, and conscientiousness of those who conduct it, and fated, because of this
dependence, to fall always short of a full attainment of its goals. In opposition to this
view, it is insisted that law must be treated as a manifested fact of social authority or
power, to be studied for what it is and does, and not for what it is trying to do or
become.”9

Fuller criticizes positivism in this manner, and, by this contrast, develops the main themes and subthemes
of his purposive theory of law.

7
Id., pp. 41-42.
8
Id., p. 106.
9
Id., p. 145.

225
“First, the analytical positivist sees law as a one-way projection of authority, emanating
from an authorized source and imposing itself on the citizen. It does not discern as an
essential element in the creation of a legal system any tacit cooperation between lawgiver
and citizen; the law is seen as simply acting on the citizens.

Second, the positivist philosophy asks of law not what it is or does, but whence it comes;
its basic concern is with the question, Who can make law? Intramural disputes within the
school of legal positivism relate almost entirely to the problem of defining the principle
or principles by which the right to create law is allocated. Thus we have Austin’s
‘sovereign one or many enjoying the habit of obedience,’ Kelsen’s postulated
‘Grundnorm,’ and Hart’s ‘empirically’ grounded ‘Rule of Recognition.’ Positivism may
recognize, of course, that the authorized law-giver may lack the power to enact specific
kinds of law, as, for example, where a written constitution proscribes certain exercises of
legislative power. But no modern positivist elevates to a central position in his thinking
any limitations contained in ‘the law job’ itself, to borrow a phrase that was a favorite of
Karl Llewellyn’s.

Third, the legal positivist does not in fact view the lawgiver as occupying any distinctive
office, role, or function. If we spoke of his performing a role this would imply that his
role should be adjusted to the complementary role of others, including that of the
ordinary citizen. Any such view would compromise the attempt to regard law as a one-
way projection of authority.

Fourth, since the lawgiver is not regarded as occupying a distinctive and limited role,
nothing that could be called a ‘role morality’ attaches to the performance of his functions.
The ordinary lawyer is, of course, subject to a code of ethics governing his conduct
toward clients, fellow lawyers, courts, and the public. This code is no mere restatement
of the moral principles governing human conduct generally, but sets forth special
standards applicable to the discharge of a distinctive social function. There is, however,
no room in the positivist philosophy for a similar ethical code governing the lawyer’s
role. If the lawgiver enacts what Hart calls ‘iniquitous’ laws, he sins of course against
general morality, but there is no special morality applicable to his job itself.

I think I need not labor the point that the four elements of the positive creed just outlined
are interdependent; each in a sense implies the others. They may all be summed up in the
observation that the positivist recognizes in the functioning of a legal system nothing that
can be truly called a social dimension. The positivist sees the law at the point of its
dispatch by the lawgiver and again at the point of its impact on the legal subject. He does
not see the lawgiver and the citizen in interaction with one another, and by virtue of that
failure he fails to see that the creation of an effective interaction between them is an
essential ingredient of the law itself.

So far I have left out the fifth and most central article of faith in the credo of positivism.
This lies in the belief that clear thinking is impossible unless we effect a neat separation
between the purposive effort that goes into the making of law and the law that in fact
emerges from that effort. This aspect of the positivist philosophy—which is, indeed,
what justifies its name—may seem unconnected to the other four. It stands, however, in
intimate relation with them.”10

10
Id., pp. 192-193.

226
Fuller’s articulation of the legal system is now complete. Law, being an enterprise which subjects human
conduct to the governance of rules, must live up to eight legal excellences. Satisfying these eight criteria,
the legal system that is produced is moral. The link between law and morality has been established.

V. COMMENTS AND CRITICISM

In the previous sections, I have only provided a sketchy account of Fuller’s legal theory. It remains to
subject his account to further scrutiny so as to determine whether he had explained adequately enough the
concept of the two moralities and whether he had indeed established there to be an intrinsic or conceptual
connection between law and morality based on his observation that law is a purposive enterprise. I call
his argument, the argument from purpose, which may be detailed and meticulously scrutinized as follows.
First, allow me to make a few comments regarding his distinction between the two moralities.

A. The Two Moralities

Professor Hart claims that although Fuller contributed important and significant ideas with his distinction
between the two moralities of duty and of aspiration, he did not clarify the distinction amply enough.

“None the less, there is much in the first chapter which must puzzle any moral
philosopher worth his salt. First and foremost there is this: the author’s initial
characterization of duty ties it very closely to what is ‘rationally discoverable’ and
objective, as contrasted with the morality of aspiration to the higher reaches of which he
finds ‘subjectivism appropriate’. Indeed, he pours scorn on those who, failing to grasp
the distinction between these two moralities, speak as if ‘obvious’ duties rested on ‘some
essentially ineffable preference’. Yet this clear initial picture of duty as rationally
discoverable and objective is difficult to fit with other things the author says about duty.
Though for him the morality of duty lays down the basic rules without which an ordered
society is impossible, this does not exhaust its role; for he notes that moralists may differ
as to what range of conduct should fall within the respective spheres of duty and the
morality of aspiration, and he has some fine observations on those moralists who forever
try to expand the area of duty instead of inviting us to join them in realizing some ideal
human nature. But it is not clear how, given these divergent conceptions of the range of
duty, the author would apply his initial characterization of rationally discoverable and
non-subjective. Furthermore, it is surprising, given this initial characterization, to find
the author speaking not only of many possible moralities of aspiration but also of
alternative moralities of duty. Some of these, he says, are ‘tinctured by an appeal to self-
interest’, others ‘rest on the lofty demands of the Categorical Imperative’.

Similar difficulties arise from the hints (they are no more) of the author’s epistemology
of morals, i.e., his views as to those we know or settle what is our duty, or ‘befits being
with human capacities’. Here he says some mysterious things: ‘When we are passing
judgment of moral duty, it seems absurd to say that such a duty can in some way flow
directly from knowledge of a situation of fact.’ This is contrasted with the situation when
we apply to conduct a morality of aspiration. The contrast is explained by the author as
due to the fact that before we conclude ‘that a duty ought to exist’, however well we may
understand the facts, there will still seem to intervene an act of legislative judgment. I
think I have some glimmer of what the author means by the close connection between
understanding a person’s ideals and our approval and disapproval. But I am most
perplexed by his references to duty as involving ‘legislation’. Does this mean that duties,
in spite of their initial characterization as rationally discoverable, and as obvious, are

227
after all a matter of choice, even if not of ‘ineffable preference’? Presumably not, since
when we pass a moral judgment of duty the author speaks of us as concluding that it
‘ought’ to exist. But does this ‘ought’ come from the morality of duty or the morality of
aspiration, or neither?”11

B. The Argument from Purpose

The non-classical natural law argument from purpose concedes that the law has purpose, without
committing itself to any metaphysical or ontological claims about that purpose. In other words, it does
not postulate the existence of an ideal law or final end-state to which all law not only strives to, but is
compelled by natural necessity to, become. Instead, law may have a variety of purposes, none of which is
ideal or absolute, and the development of law towards its purpose is not inexorably predestined.

Prof. Fuller is the foremost exponent of this argument and provides its most widely-known versions,
which he has elaborated and improved upon many times over for many years. 12 From this extensive
literature three separate arguments from purpose, the conceptual, the methodological and the substantive
arguments, can be gleaned and they each merit close attention.

1. The Conceptual Argument

The conceptual argument insists that the law cannot adequately be understood and hence accurately
defined without taking into account its purpose or what it is for. In fact, all human artifacts or manmade
objects share this very feature: having been designed by man for a purpose, it can be understood only in
terms of that purpose. That goes for simple objects like knives or chairs, which cannot be understood
without knowing that it is used to cut or to sit on, and goes for more complex artifacts like human
behavior, social practices and institutions.

Prof. Fuller uses the analogy of a boy playing in the sand to get his point across. 13 The boy's behavior
appears beyond comprehension without knowing what he is trying to do, which is simply to open the
clam. His behavior seems random or meaningless to an observer unaware of the point of his actions, and
hence defies correct characterization in the absence of that knowledge. It is the boy's purpose which
gives his actions meaning and provides the criteria for any satisfactory account of his behavior. Since
description of his behavior involves taking into account his purpose, this shows that the 'is' cannot be
understood without the 'is for' or the 'ought to be' and that fact and value merge in description. Indeed
fact and value merge in any description of objects with purpose, be they simple manmade one, complex
human actions or social practices like the law.

If this is an accurate rendering of Fuller's argument, then unfortunately it fails to do the job. It is muddled
with conceptual confusion and neglects to distinguish the various senses in which 'good' or 'value' may be
used to describe an object with purpose. An object, for example, may be good or valuable in itself, good
in terms of its purpose, good as a means to that purpose or the purpose itself may be good or valuable.
Objects are hardly if ever good in themselves, although life, knowledge, virtue and art are claimed to be.
An object like a chair or law, on the other hand, may be good in terms of its purpose; a chair's purpose is
to be used as a seat and in so far as the chair enables man to rest then it is good. Similarly, law is good
because it allows men, for example, to live together in peace. The next sense, being good as a means to
11
H.L.A. Hart, “Lon L. Fuller: The Morality of Law,” Essays in Jurisprudence and Philosophy, Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1983, pp. 345-346.
12
See, for example, The Law in Quest of Itself, Boston, 1966; 'Positivism and Fidelity to Law: A Reply to Professor
Hart', Harvard Law Review, 71 (1958), 630-72; The Morality of Law, rev. edn., New Haven, 1969; and Anatomy of
the Law, London, 1968.
13
'Human Purpose and Natural Law', Natural Law Forum, 3 (1958), 68-69.

228
that purpose, may appear close in meaning to the previous sense, but in fact they are distinct. The focus
of this concept now is on how the purpose is achieved not on what the purpose is: hence, the object is to
be called 'good' only if the means are conducive to achieving the purpose. For example, a given chair
may be good in terms of its purpose because its purpose, to allow people to rest, is good; but not good as
a means, let us say, because the chair, being hard or rough, fails to relax. Finally, the purpose itself, rest
for the chair or peace for law, may be good or valuable and that is self-explanatory.

Fuller obviously could not have meant the first sense in his argument, because apart from other reasons, it
has nothing whatsoever to do with purpose; nor the fourth, since opening the clam in his example is taken
as a neutral purpose which he neither commends nor condemns. But, if so, he could not have meant the
second sense either because the good in that sense derives from the purpose, which is supposed to be
neutral. But let me examine this sense anyway to see if there is something more to it and if the link to
morality could be established by means of it.

It is admitted that at times an object is called good in terms of its purpose. The chair is good because it
provides us rest, the knife because it helps us in our chores, the television set because it gives us
entertainment, and so on. But are these objects actually good or is it the purpose to which it is put that
which is good? I think the latter. The object which is good in terms of purpose is good insofar as its
purpose is good, and if its purpose is not, then the object is not either. But there is a sense in which the
object can correctly be considered good. That occurs when the object is used exclusively for good
purposes or some other sufficiently strong connection between the object and good purpose is established.
If this occurs, the connection between the object and good, no longer one by virtue of meaning but one
due to certain empirical factors, would no longer be conceptual and would not give rise to a conceptual
argument.

That leaves me with the third sense. It is possible that this is what Fuller meant, but, if so, his argument
sadly fails. A purely descriptive account of an object with purpose in terms of it being good as a means to
achieve that purpose is perfectly possible. No commitment to the worth, value or desirability of that
object or its purpose need be implied in the description. 'Good' functions here not to ascribe value or to
commend but merely to describe. To take the example of the chair once again, it is called 'good' because
in being large, soft, comfortable, etc., it allows one to rest. But no value judgment is being made here.
'Good' merely functions in a descriptive sense; what is being described is the chair's suitability to
achieving its purpose.

Fuller alternatively could have meant a fifth sense, good because it has a purpose. If so, any object with a
purpose is good not in terms of its purpose but by virtue of the fact that it has one. But the point made as
to the third sense is even clearer when applied to this fifth sense. 'Good' here too functions not to ascribe
value or to commend, but merely to describe. An object is called 'good' because it has a purpose. All that
is being done in this characterization is that the object's purpose is being noted as a fact.

The conceptual argument from purpose fails in much the same way as the conceptual argument from
obligation does. Too much is trying to be squeezed out of meaning. If an argument from purpose is to
succeed, other considerations, practical, theoretical, empirical, or moral again have to be taken into
account. In the methodological and substantive arguments from purpose, some of these other factors will
be considered.

2. The Methodological Argument

The methodological and substantive arguments actually share a number of features in common but the
difference in their essentials argues for treating them separately. Both arguments advance a
characterization of law in terms of a purposive enterprise, from which further assertions about the

229
methodological requirements of law, law as an activity or process, of human nature and of efficacy are
inferred. They differ only in that the substantive argument insists on explicitly taking as basic premises
assertions, which the methodological argument implicitly assumes or attempts to derive as a conclusion.
These basic premises are so fundamental that they not only add an extra dimension to the characterization
of law but also alter the character of the argument.

In the methodological argument, Fuller defines law purposefully as "the enterprise of subjecting human
conduct to the governance of rules", 14 a definition which apart from the notion of enterprise is adequately
neutral and does not already introduce implicitly moral notions in its characterization of law or of law's
purpose. The purposeful enterprise, he goes on to explain, cannot be achieved without satisfying eight
methodological requirements, which he calls the inner morality of law but are commonly known as
principles of legality or of the rule of law. Hence the laws have to be general, public, clear, prospective,
consistent, capable of being complied with, constant through time and congruent with official action. 15
No legal system actually satisfies these eight requirements to perfection but insofar as any of these eight
requirements fail to be present or are insufficiently present in the legal system, it becomes less of a legal
system as a result. Hence, a legal system can satisfy or fail to satisfy being law by degrees.

The argument advances three different but connected reasons why these eight methodological
requirements establish a link between law and morality. First, the eight requirements "merge" law and
morality by being in a sense rules both of morality and of law. Insofar as they "derive their efficacy from
a general acceptance which in turn rests ultimately on a perception that they are right and necessary", 16
they seem to be rules of morality; and insofar as "in the daily functioning of the legal system, they are
often treated and applied much as ordinary rules of law are", 17 they are rules of law. Secondly, because
they impose internal demands that the law must meet in striving to become law in the full and complete
sense, they constitute an inner morality, the morality not of duty but of aspiration. 18 By far, the most
appealing and persuasive of these arguments however is the final one. 19 This maintains in short that this
inner morality tends law towards the good, since it "affects and limits the substantive aims that can be
achieved through law."20 Because all three of the arguments were based on methodological requirements,
Fuller referred to his conception of natural law as procedural 21 and not substantive like classical natural
law.

To expand the third argument, Fuller insisted that the eight requirements prevent evil law from existing
and encourage good law to be passed. Take any of these eight requirements, like clarity, publicity or
prospectivity. If evil is to be done then the law best be obscure, unknown or retrospective. Look at how
much mischief has been achieved with vague, unpublicized or retroactive laws in Hitler's Germany for
example. On the other hand, if the law is clear, public and prospective, good is more easily attainable.
Not only is fair warning given to the law's subjects, but since the law is now more open and susceptible to

14
L. Fuller, The Morality of Law, 74.
15
Ibid., Ch. II.
16
'Positivism and Fidelity to Law: A Reply to Prof. Hart', Harvard Law Review, 71 (1958), 639.
17
Ibid.
18
The Morality of Law, Ch. I.
19
R. Summers offers another argument. "Sufficient compliance with the principles of legality necessarily
guarantees, to the extent of that compliance, the realization of a moral value, even when the content of law happens
to be bad. That moral value is this: the principles of generality, clarity, prospectivity and so forth, secure that the
citizen will have a fair opportunity to obey the law." (R. Summers, Lon L. Fuller, 37) I follow Raz and consider this
value merely to be a negative virtue. (See Raz, 'The Rule of Law and its Virtue', The Authority of Law, ch. 11 and
subsequent discussion in this chapter, particularly p. 101.)
20
The Morality of Law, 84.
21
Ibid., 96-97.

230
scrutiny and criticism, the greater is the likelihood that it be framed in such a way as better to promote
good.

It is the eighth requirement, congruence between official action and declared rule, which Fuller considers
most significant. For this requirement embodies the very principle of the rule of law itself, that the
legislator is bound by and hence must act in accordance with the very rules he has instituted and laid
down. This entails an institutional responsibility, which coupled with the citizen's duty to comply with
law, depicts law as an interactional process between government and citizen, which "is not like
management, a matter of directing other persons how to accomplish tasks set by a superior, but is
basically a matter of providing the citizenry with a sound and stable framework for their interactions with
one another, the role of government being that of standing as a guardian of the integrity of this system". 22

It is clear furthermore that three other claims, actually implied from the definition of law as a purposeful
enterprise, can be made in this argument, which in turn provides further grounds for the conclusion. First,
the law that is a purposive enterprise is a law characterized as an activity and regarded as the product of a
sustained purposive effort, and not merely as a manifested fact of social power. 23 Hence law is viewed as
a process along an extended time-frame and not just as a momentary entity at a fixed point in time. This
view of law as a process explains why many institutional roles and legal procedures exist to help ensure
that the rules which govern human conduct are morally acceptable to those whom they govern. To take
just one example, the legislator's responsibility of law-making involves an intricate procedure meant to
guarantee comprehensive discussion of the law prior to its enactment. Secondly, the man who is to be
subjected to the governance of rules "is, or can become, a responsible agent, capable of understanding and
following rules, and answerable for his defaults," 24 where "(e)very departure from the principles of law's
inner morality is an affront to (his) dignity as a responsible agent." 25 Finally, the law that is to subject
human conduct along this extended time-frame aims to be efficacious not only in the sense of individual
laws being followed and obeyed, but also in that the entire legal system strives to perpetuate itself in
existence.26 Due to these additional claims, Fuller concedes that the law tends to be just and reasonable, if
only because it is viewed as a process, seeks the approval of its responsible subjects, and intends to
survive. He also infers from this that it is not just order simpliciter which is aimed at by law but good
order.27

There is again some plausibility to the three reasons supplied by this long argument, but sadly each reason
is wanting. In response to the first two, Hart correctly points out that the eight requirements are not so
much moral demands but principles of good craftsmanship. To call them demands of inner morality is to
invite confusion. They are good not because they are moral but because they are efficient in achieving
their purpose.28 To use earlier terminology, the 'good' meant here is good as a means to a purpose and not
good in terms of purpose. And as earlier shown, no moral conclusions derive from this.

The analogy with a knife makes the point clearer. A knife cannot be called good in the moral sense
simply because it is good as a means to a purpose. It may be sharp or able to cut a variety of things well,
but then it would only be highly efficient. The knife is only a means and its goodness is as a means. To
appreciate the argument better, would the knife be considered morally good if it efficiently injured or
maimed? No, being good as a means is neutral to being good in a moral or ethical sense, for the knife
22
Ibid., 210.
23
Ibid., 106.
24
Ibid., 162.
25
Ibid.
26
Ibid., 97
27
Supra., n. 11. See also L. Fuller, 'Means and Ends', The Principles of Social Order: Selected Essays of Lon L.
Fuller, ed. K. I. Winston., 47-64.
28
Hart, 'Lon L. Fuller: The Morality of Law', Essays in Jurisprudence and Philosophy, 347.

231
may be used for moral or immoral purposes. On the other hand, the knife may be considered good
because it serves a purpose which is good. The knife may be used to perform surgery for example. But
goodness here is meant in terms of purpose, and no longer as a means to that purpose. Perhaps this is
what Fuller had in mind all along. If so, as explained earlier, not only would his argument no longer be a
methodological one, but it would fail as well, unless it be shown that the object is used exclusively for the
good or some sufficiently strong link between the object and the good is established.

Being mere principles of good craftsmanship, it follows that these eight methodological requirements are
morally or ethically neutral to good or bad aims. As Prof. Hart so elegantly phrased, they are
"unfortunately compatible with very great iniquity." 29 But what of the point made earlier about clarity,
publicity, retroactivity and congruence as well as about the assumptions concerning law-as-process,
human nature and efficacy? Do not these show that far from being ethically neutral, law tends towards
the good and hence is intrinsically good or moral?

There are two sources of error in this argument. Either it involves a confusion in time-frames resulting in
ambiguity in reference, or no confusion or ambiguity is present. If the source of error is the former, the
process-product equivocation results. The law that is characterized as tending towards the good is viewed
as an evolving process in an extended time-frame. Fuller refers to this as an enterprise or purposive
activity. On the other hand, the law which is claimed to be good or moral (and which is precisely the
issue in this chapter) is meant as a momentary entity in a fixed point in time. Fuller called this "the
product of a sustained purposive effort."30 Hence, certain factors may tend the law towards the good
without the law itself being good or moral. For two different time-frames and references are involved
here.

If the source of error is the latter, then it is law-as-entity which is consistently meant all throughout the
argument. Thus construed, the conclusion does not follow either. This is precisely Hart's point when he
explained away Fuller's argument based on the inner morality of law. According to Hart, the fact that the
requirements of clarity, publicity, retroactivity and congruence tend to promote evil and promote good
was a "matter of the varying popularity and strength of governments, and not of any necessary
incompatibility between government according to the principles of legality and wicked ends." 31 For a law
which satisfies these requirements need not be compatible with every sort of evil for the requirements to
remain ethically neutral. This point extends to the arguments based on the assertions about human nature
and efficacy, even as to institutional roles and legal processes. Just as the eight methodological
requirements are ethically neutral, so are these assertions even if admittedly they tend the law toward the
good.

To use the insight gained from the analysis in terms of purpose, some sufficiently strong link between
law-as-entity tending towards the good and law-as-entity actually being has to be established if these
eight methodological requirements as well as the assertions about human nature, efficacy and institutional
roles and legal processes are not to be considered ethically neutral. Absent this link, it is enough to show
that the law may be used in either good or evil ways to confirm their ethical neutrality. If the argument
still fails to convince, take any object with purpose aside from law. Isn't a chair, a knife, or even a gun for
example considered ethically neutral? Of course, it may be argued that a gun, given its capacity for harm,
is not ethically neutral; but this would only be true because either no conceivable good use of the gun
would be conceded or a sufficiently strong connection between gun and evil has been established. So
long as the gun can be used for good purposes and no strong link between the gun and evil is shown, then
the mere tendency of a gun for evil is not enough to claim that it is intrinsically evil.

29
The Concept of Law, 202.
30
The Morality of Law, 106.
31
Hart, supra. n. 23, 353.

232
This point about ethical neutrality applies just as well when the law that tends towards the good is law-as-
process. For the link to law-as-entity actually being good is now more difficult to establish. The gap
between them is further removed, since there is now the discrepancy in concepts to attend to. Hence the
argument establishing the ethical neutrality of both the eight methodological requirements and the three
assertions remains just as valid.

The methodological requirement in summary is inadequate to warrant the conclusion. Perhaps the
argument has to be recast in a different light for the connection between law and good to be made. This
brings me to the substantive argument.

3. The Substantive Argument

The substantive argument takes as basic three premises which actually are not new because they were
already asserted by the methodological argument. Because they are each of paramount significance, the
substantive argument chooses to regard all three of them as basic. If one of them were chosen as primary,
it would be the good-order premise, since it makes an explicit substantive claim. It defines law
purposefully. specifying law's intrinsic purpose to be good order, and not just order simpliciter.32 The
second premise, called the temporal premise, characterizes law as an evolving process in an extended
time-frame and not as a momentary entity at a fixed point in time. Finally, there is the interaction
premise, which views law as an interactional process entailing a set of interlocking responsibilities
between government and citizen, and not merely as a one-way projection of authority. 33

The paramount significance of these three premises lies in their allowing law to be viewed in a new and
different light, affording a more illuminating explanation of its features as well as changing and affecting
one's understanding of and perspective towards the law. All definitions add an extra dimension to law,
the first with respect to the law's purpose and the nature of that purpose, the second in relation to law's
movement or development and the third with regard to the two-way interaction between government and
citizen. In fact from this new perspective, it can safely be claimed that law has moral significance.

The basic premises, although originally intended to be aspects of the methodological argument, can be
considered as novel, since they themselves have taken on a new significance. In the methodological
argument, the good-order definition was the product of a long chain of (not quite impeccable) reasoning,
grounded ultimately on the purposive definition of law. The temporal definition, on the other hand, was
more of a tacit or implicit assumption based on characterizing law as an enterprise. And the interaction
assertion followed from the eight methodological requirements of law, most importantly congruence
between official and declared rule. In the substantive argument, their roles are different and the direction
of proof is reversed. The good-order and the interaction definitions are no longer meant as conclusions
but as premises; and all three assertions are taken explicitly as basic premises.

All three premises are connected to each other, but I will clarify only the first premise's connection to the
other two, because it is the primary premise but also because I want to explain further why this is so. The
good-order premise that law intrinsically aims at good order may not, strictly speaking, be construed
already to conceive of law as a process, although it suggests that law is a purposive activity. For the
possibility that law, rather than being a purposive activity, is the product of that activity cannot, without
further qualification, be ruled out. It takes the temporal premise to assert conclusively that law-as-process
is meant. Conversely, from the premise that law is a process, it can only be affirmed that many factors
tend law towards the good but not that the law intrinsically aims at the good. As to the other connection,

32
Supra., n. 22.
33
The Morality of Law, 216 and 233.

233
it is likewise true that neither premise can be derived from the other. Although good order, which is the
law's intrinsic aim, may be construed as an order where interlocking responsibilities co-exist between
superiors and subjects, it does not follow that law actually comprises, and not just aims to comprise, of an
order with interlocking responsibilities. Conversely, only a slight modification of the refutation of the
methodological argument will show that from the fact that law is inter-actional, it cannot be inferred that
law's intrinsic purpose is good order.

Even if the other two premises cannot be rigorously derived from the good-order premise, there is no
doubting the primacy of the latter. The argument being a substantive argument from purpose, the two
premises complement the good-order premise premise's substantive characterization of law and of law's
purpose. The temporal premise affirms that law-as-process is meant and the interaction premise informs
partially the type of good order which is aimed at. It remains best however for these three assertions to be
treated as distinct and basic premises of the argument. After all, they each highlight and focus on
different fundamental aspects of law. Hence if the substantive argument were guilty of an error, if could
be traced to any of the basic premises.

The good-order, the temporal and the interaction definitions of law all explain more thoroughly why laws
are value-laden and inform our understanding of the various aspects of law. If the three premises are held
as true, then the law is seen as tending to (i) embody, reflect or promote widely-shared or morally
acceptable values, purposes and interests whether implicitly or explicitly, (ii) be just and reasonable as a
result and (iii) have as legal process those which help ensure the realization of those values, purposes and
interests. An examination of each of the sources of law amplifies and elucidates these points further.

Take custom for example. Custom is best viewed in terms of aiming towards good order in an extended
time-frame. Admittedly, by the manner of its creation, custom does not presuppose any interlocking
responsibilities between government and citizen, since it is not imposed by authority from above. But it
produces an order which respects the shared interests and reciprocal expectations of the members of the
community, as it evolves spontaneously, under no one's conscious direction. First, a pattern of behavior
develops and then becomes entrenched, because that way of doing things allows members to fulfill their
needs, to achieve their goals or to embody their concepts of rightness, and ultimately to live together in
harmony. As a result, the values and purposes implicit or explicit in the customary rule are likely to be
widely-shared, arising out of the common needs, expectations and ideals of the community, and the rule
tends to be just and reasonable. Otherwise, the community will have gravitated towards a different way
of doing things. In other words, these settled ways of doing things precisely become entrenched because
people, on the whole, deem it acceptable and reasonable to continue behaving in such a way. After all,
the rule which survives is often the rule that adequately satisfies the community's interests. Finally, it is
also obvious that the procedure through which a customary rule emerges, characterized as it is by
spontaneous evolution, implicitly reflects values that are widely-shared and morally acceptable.

See also how the practice of legislation and precedent, even if now tied to authoritative institutions, is
better understood when viewed as attempts towards a good order reflecting the interlocking
responsibilities of government and citizen occurring within a temporal framework. It explains why these
two sources of are often explicitly formulated in evaluative terminology. This is immediately seen to be
true with regards to provisions in the constitution, one of whose functions is to lay down the general
principles and policies of government. This is just as true for legislative statutes and judicial precedent
which are often expressed evaluatively, if only to provide a justification for the law or to aid officials as
well as citizens in interpreting or applying it to varied, at times unenvisaged, situations with the sense of
intended by their creators. Hence statutes often contain a section which is meant to express its purpose
while judicial opinions, as has been shown, are replete with moral and evaluative reasons.

234
The purpose of good order makes plain why many factors contribute to making law reflect or embody
widely-shared or morally acceptable values and purposes. Public opinion, for example, exerts a powerful
influence on the officials to make laws just and reasonable, and though it affects the legislators more
strongly given their elective positions, it influences judges as well. It also shows why legislators and
judges have institutional roles, from which a duty to be responsible to one's constituency or to apply the
law fairly is attached. Finally, it explains the presence of the many legal procedures, which subject the
law to critical scrutiny before it is legally enacted or judicially recognized.

The substantive argument, though in a sense valid, actually has flaws, which are traceable to any of the
three premises. Before exposing its flaws, let me first specify the way in which the argument may be
construed as valid. The argument is valid precisely because the three basic premises either assume too
much or prove a conclusion not in issue. If the intrinsic purpose of law is good order, if by law is meant
law-as-process, or if law is conceived as an interaction, then it is possible to show that law is moral.
Allow me to detail these arguments and at the same time show where they are flawed.

The flaw traceable to the good-order premise is that the premise itself assumes too much. Previous
discussions have already revealed how the slide from law tending towards the good to law aiming at good
can almost imperceptibly, but invalidly, occur. The substantive argument avoids that slide with its
candor; it admits what needs to be proved. Since the intrinsic purpose of law is good order, it follows that
law is good. For if it fails to achieve its purpose, it becomes less of law as a result. The link between law
and moral good has been established. It neither matters whether by law is meant law-as-process or law-
as-entity. The conclusion still holds. But this argument, though valid, has, to borrow a phrase, all the
advantages of theft over honest toil. Fuller has merely assumed what needs to be proved.

The attractiveness of the temporal premise is likewise its candor; it concedes that there exist two concepts
of law depending on the time frames used and submits that the better way to conceive of law is in terms
of process. With this conception, it can easily be shown, as indeed has just been done, how various
factors influence law towards the good which provides some factual basis for the claim that morality is a
pervasive if not essential feature of law. But it is not a moral link to law-as-process which requires
proving but a link to law-as-entity. The temporal premise has simply proven what is not at issue.

The argument based on the interaction premise, if construed as a methodological argument, actually is
invalid. This general point has been established in the previous section. In specific, from the assumption
that the government has a responsibility towards its citizens, based on the principles of the rule of law, it
does not necessarily follow that the legal order thus produced is good order. The rule of law may
minimize the arbitrary exercise of power, thus preventing infringements on human dignity and freedom,
but it is not automatically productive of good. For many forms of arbitrary rule are compatible with the
rule of law. As Prof. Raz has pointed out, the rule is essentially a negative virtue, conformity to which
"does not cause good except through avoiding evil and the evil which is avoided is evil which could have
been caused by the law itself." 34 Unfortunately, this allows various kinds of evil compatible with the rule
of law itself to exist.

In order for an argument based on the interaction premise to be valid therefore, it must be a substantive
one. Under this conception, law as interactional process is no longer a means to good order; it actually
constitutes a good order. But it has just been shown that many types of order, not necessarily good, are
compatible with a legal system which both conforms to the rule of law and acknowledges the interlocking
responsibilities of government and citizen. Perhaps the good order in mind is not only the interaction
premise but all that can be loosely inferred from this. Other conditions, like the good-order premise, may
be considered as implicit in the interaction premise so that in its complete sense law as interaction

34
'The Rule of Law and its Virtue', The Authority of Law, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1979, p. 224.

235
embodies an undeniably good order. If so, the argument clearly is valid but the premise again assumes
what is to be proved.

Perhaps I have missed the point of the substantive argument completely: the point may have been that it is
best to conceive of law in terms of the intrinsic purpose of good order, of process and of interaction. To
conceive of law as an entity merely aiming at order simpliciter is, from this point of view, simply myopic.
Look at how illuminating the analysis of law, of its features and processes becomes, once purpose,
process and interaction are included in the concept.

The direct reply to this argument is to concede that both concepts have their own uses and their own
importance. It is not necessarily the case that one concept is automatically superior to the other in all
contexts. There are practical and theoretical advantages to treating law as an entity, particularly with
respect to determining law's existence and identifying its content. In adjudication, courts, in declaring
what is the law, must identify the content of the law at a given point in time and thus must inevitably treat
law as an entity. But this does not deny the value and importance of looking at law as a process; prior to
the court's final declaration of the law, many factors come into play to influence their decisions and it is
wise for them to appreciate the perspective provided by viewing law as an interactional process aiming at
good order.

0–0–0–0–0

REFERENCES

Fernando, Emmanuel Q., Legal Theory, Legal Reasoning, and Philippine Jurisprudence, to be published
by the U.P. Law Center, Ch. V.
Fuller, Lon, “Positivism and Fidelity to Law,” Society, Law, and Morality, New Jersey: Prentice Hall,
Inc., 1961.
-------The Morality of Law, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1964.
-------The Law in Quest of Itself, Boston, 1966;
------- Anatomy of the Law, London, 1968.
-------“Means and Ends,” The Principles of Social Order: Selected Essays of Lon L. Fuller, ed. K. I.
Winston., 47-64.
Hart, H.L.A., “Positivism and the Separation of Law and Morals,” Society, Law, and Morality, New
Jersey: Prentice Hall, Inc., 1961.
-------The Concept of Law, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1961.
-------“Lon L. Fuller: The Morality of Law,” Essays in Jurisprudence and Philosophy, Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1983.
Raz, Joseph, “The Rule of Law and its Virtue,” The Authority of Law, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1979.
Summers, Robert S., Lon L. Fuller,

236

You might also like