This post was written by Marco Pasqua (PhD, Catholic University of the Sacred Heart of Milan). It is the final contribution to the EAPIL on-line symposium on the judgment of the Court of Justice in Cupriak-Trojan. The previous posts were written by Laima Vaige, Alina Tryfonidou, Elizabeth Perry and Anna Wysocka-Bar, and can be found here, here, here and here, respectively. Readers are encouraged to participate in the discussion by commenting on the various posts in the symposium.


On 8 October 2025, the European Commission published a Communication entitled Union of Equality: LGBTIQ+ Equality Strategy 2026–2030, concerning LGBTIQ+ rights and LGBTIQ+ related actions. The document identifies three main strategic objectives.

The first, Protect, focuses on strengthening safeguards against violence and discrimination, including hate crime, hate speech, online safety and the protection of LGBTIQ+ youth. The second, Empower, aims at enabling LGBTIQ+ people to live and work freely across the EU, promoting inclusion in education, health and employment, and reinforcing anti-discrimination protection. The third objective, Engage, is about cooperation with Member States and international partners to advance LGBTIQ+ equality, support civil society and promote human rights globally.

Relevance of Cupriak-Trojan to the Commission’s Equality Strategy

The ruling of the Court of Justice in Cupriak-Trojan (C-713/23) is relevant to the above objectives in several ways and helps clarify how they may be implemented in practice.

As regards the relevant legal framework, Cupriak-Trojan further consolidates the trajectory of the Court’s case law in Coman (C-673/16), Pancharevo (C-490/20), K.S. (C-2/21) and Mirin (C-4/23). These rulings confirm that, when assessing Member State measures affecting the exercise of EU citizenship rights and family life, the central question is whether a particular action, at Member States level, amounts to an infringement of those rights derived from Articles 20-21 TFEU read together with Articles 7 and 21(1) of the Charter.

In addition, Wojewoda Mazowiecki reaffirms the direct effect of Articles 20-21 TFEU in this context, thereby ensuring that individuals can rely directly on these provisions before national authorities and courts. A further development may result from a pending case – Shipov (C-43/24) – which raises related questions and may offer additional clarification.

This line of case law reinforces the view that the Commission may legitimately prioritise measures aimed at ensuring procedural equivalence and effective administrative recognition as core elements of LGBTIQ+ equality policy. The above aspects are particularly relevant to the Empower objective, as they help ensure that individuals can meaningfully exercise their EU citizenship and free-movement rights in cross-border family situations.

Ensuring Equal Rights Across Borders: The Role of Private International Law

The policy context – namely, the Commission’s overarching approach to LGBTIQ+ equality as set out in the Communication – forms the backdrop for the section Ensuring equal rights across borders. In this part of the document, the Commission highlights the role of private international law in facilitating the continuity and recognition of family and personal status rights for LGBTIQ+ people who move within the Union.

While 22 Member States currently provide for marriage equality and/or registered partnerships, national rules on family status still differ significantly. This diversity is not, in itself, problematic. It becomes an issue when appropriate private international law mechanisms are lacking, creating uncertainty for families whose status has been validly established in one Member State but is not automatically recognised in another. According to the EU Agency for Fundamental Rights’ third LGBTIQ survey, around 14% of LGBTIQ+ parents face challenges of this type, particularly regarding the recognition of parent–child relationships.

The issues addressed in this section of the Communication – in particular, the challenges arising from the absence of adequate private international law rules – are directly affected by the Wojewoda Mazowiecki ruling. The Court of Justice clarified that the refusal to recognise or transcribe a family status already established in another Member State may amount to an unjustified restriction on free movement and an interference with the right to family life. This reinforces the need for reliable cross-border recognition mechanisms under EU law.

At the same time, it is important to acknowledge that these questions require balancing different considerations. In addition to free movement and fundamental rights, the EU Treaties also refer to the respect for national identities and legal traditions under Article 67 TFEU. The challenge, therefore, is not to assert the primacy of one objective and policy over all others, but to develop fair and workable solutions that operate coherently within the EU’s multi-layered constitutional structure.

This tension between EU-level guarantees and Member States’ constitutional identities has already been examined by this author in the EAPIL blog post commenting on Advocate General de la Tour’s opinion in the same case. As noted there, a convincing analysis must account not only for EU integrationist values – such as freedom of movement and non-discrimination – but also for the legitimate interests of Member States in regulating personal status according to their own constitutional traditions. EU law itself recognises that national competences remain protected, provided they are exercised without depriving EU rights of their essence.

Several Member States have entrenched definitions of marriage and parenthood at the constitutional level. Article 18 of Polish Constitution defines marriage as a union between a man and a woman. Hungary’s Fundamental Law, as amended in 2020, similarly states that “the mother shall be a woman, the father shall be a man”. Romanian Constitution defines the family in Article 48, and although the 2018 referendum to specify that marriage is between a man and a woman did not meet the turnout threshold, the debate reflects a deliberate constitutional stance.

Most recently, Slovakia adopted Constitutional Law No. 255/2025, amending the Constitution with provisions that emphasise national identity and sovereignty in areas such as marriage, parenthood, personal status and family life. The reform introduces new paragraphs 6 and 7 in Article 7, affirming that these matters fall within the exclusive domain of the Slovak constitutional order and cannot be delegated, limited, or interpreted as being transferable to any external authority beyond the national constitutional framework. Article 15 is amended to prohibit any agreement to create a child for another person. Article 41 is revised to state that the parents of a child are the mother (a woman) and the father (a man), and to restrict adoption primarily to married couples or, exceptionally, to single persons when in the child’s best interests. A new Article 52a further provides that Slovakia recognises only the biologically determined sex of men and women.

These examples illustrate that constitutional identity claims are not abstract arguments but concrete legal constraints that shape how Member States approach questions of family status and recognition – an issue that the Cupriak-Trojan judgment cannot disregard, even as it strengthens EU-law-based guarantees.

A more grounded point emerging from the ruling is its focus on the tangible difficulties created by divergent national practices. These include fragmented administrative approaches, obstacles in accessing social protection, difficulties in obtaining identity documents and uncertainty around property or inheritance rights. By highlighting these concrete effects, the judgment adds political and legal momentum to the Strategy’s commitments on cross-border recognition and judicial cooperation.

In its Communication, the Commission notes that several EU private international law instruments – including Regulation (EU) 2019/1111 on matrimonial and parental responsibility matters, Regulation (EC) No 4/2009 on maintenance obligations, Regulation (EU) 2016/1103 and Regulation 2016/1104 on matrimonial and partnership property regimes and Regulation (EU) No 650/2012 on succession – already ensure the mutual recognition of judgments in cross-border family situations, irrespective of sexual orientation or gender identity. The Commission monitors how these instruments operate in practice for LGBTIQ+ families and maintains dialogue with Member States to identify practical challenges.

The Communication’s selective examples raise a question worth noting. Regulation (EU) 606/2013 on mutual recognition of protection measures in civil matters is not included in the short list, despite its clear relevance to the Protect pillar. This omission may reflect the Communication’s focus on instruments that shape status recognition, but it also suggests a potential blind spot: distinctly procedural protection tools and their interaction with status recognition deserve explicit consideration when designing comprehensive cross-border safeguards for LGBTIQ+ families.

The Communication also reiterates the Commission’s support for the Proposal for a Regulation on parenthood. This initiative would harmonise core private international law rules and require Member States to recognise parenthood established in another Member State for its civil effects more broadly, not only when free movement is at stake. Recognition, however, would still operate within the limits and safeguards set out in the proposed Regulation itself (e.g., public policy), so it would not guarantee recognition in every possible case. Still, the instrument would markedly improve legal certainty and strengthen the protection of children’s rights across the Union.

Cupriak-Trojan also reinforces the logic underpinning these initiatives. It confirms that, where a family status has been lawfully created in one Member State, the authorities of another cannot simply disregard it in ways that undermine free movement or the right to family life. At the same time, the judgment operates within the established framework of EU private international law, which already accommodates exceptions and safeguards rather than imposing an unqualified, binary model of recognition.

Finally, the Commission notes that legal gender recognition remains uneven across Europe. While some Member States have embraced self-determination models, others still require medical interventions – a practice the European Court of Human Rights has deemed incompatible with human rights standards (Application No 55216/08, S.V. v ItalyApplications No 79885/12, 52471/13 and 52596/13A.P., Garçon and Nicot v. France). The Commission explains that greater convergence in this area would also support the consistent functioning of EU law in cross-border situations, and it therefore intends to facilitate exchanges of best practices to encourage Member States to adopt self-determination procedures free from unnecessary medical or age-related barriers. Again, Cupriak-Trojan confirms that procedural mechanisms cannot be used to undermine substantive EU rights, highlighting that recognition must be effective and available to all without discrimination – relevant for both the Empower and Protect pillars of the Strategy.

Judicial Cooperation and Enforcement Perspective

The ruling in Cupriak-Trojan reinforces the Strategy’s attention to judicial cooperation under both Article 81 and Article 83 TFEU. While the role of Article 81 in supporting mutual recognition and cooperation in family matters has already been highlighted, the judgment signals that Article 83 TFEU – traditionally associated with combating hate crime and enhancing criminal-law responses under the Protect pillar – may also be relevant in framing EU-level responses to discrimination against LGBTIQ+ families. At the same time, instruments based on Article 81 TFEU (and proposals such as the Commission’s parenthood regulation) appear increasingly viable, both politically and legally, as tools to secure cross-border recognition of parenthood and other family-law effects without requiring Member States to alter their domestic definitions of marriage under (Empower).

From an enforcement perspective, as ‘guardian of the Treaties’, the Commission monitors Member States’ compliance with EU law and acts decisively to uphold EU values. For example, in 2022 it referred Hungary to the CJEU over discriminatory national rules affecting LGBTIQ+ people, arguing that these laws violated fundamental rights, single market rules and core EU values under Article 2 TEU (C-769/22). The case drew support from sixteen Member States and the European Parliament, and while the Advocate General issued an opinion in June 2025, the CJEU’s judgment is still pending. Cupriak-Trojan reinforces the Commission’s supervisory toolkit – infringement action, targeted guidance and structured dialogues with Member States – by clarifying the minimum baseline of recognition EU law requires, signalling to national courts and administrations the obligation to interpret or, where impossible, disapply domestic provisions that would produce the legal vacuum condemned by the CJEU (Engage).

Practical Priorities and Next Steps

The judgment of the Court of Justicealso clarifies and strengthens the Strategy’s practical priorities: it highlights the need to develop procedural tools that provide recognition and legal certainty, such as European certificates and improved mutual-recognition rules; it emphasises that monitoring and Member State action plans should focus not only on legal reforms but also on administrative practice, interoperability of registers and training of officials; it underlines the importance of linking anti-discrimination enforcement with private international law, so that equality and free-movement rights are effective in practice; and it supports targeted capacity-building in those countries where legal and administrative gaps cause the greatest obstacles for LGBTIQ+ families.

In short, Cupriak-Trojan provides judicial momentum for the Strategy, highlighting the need to complement high-level policy objectives with concrete administrative and procedural mechanisms. The Commission’s next steps should focus on translating these commitments into practical instruments and administrative tools that ensure cross-border recognition and prevent the fragmentation that the ruling highlights.

This post was written by Aygun Mammadzada, Lecturer (Assistant Professor) in Law at the Swansea University. It is the fifth contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the Law Commission of England and Wales’s Consultation Paper on Digital Assets and Electronic Trade Documents in Private International Law. The post is based on the author’s presentation at the Journal of Private International Law Biennial Conference of September 2025) and outlines arguments that elaborated in a forthcoming article. The post offers a concise reflection of that work, while also relying on the author’s own response to the Law Commission’s Consultation Paper. Readers are encouraged to participate in the discussion by commenting on this and the previous posts.


The EAPIL Symposium on Digital Assets has already seen sharp and insightful criticism of the Law Commission’s proposed supranational approach to private international law issues relating to digital assets (here and here). Earlier contributions have questioned its conceptual coherence, its practical feasibility, and its departure from traditional conflict-of-laws reasoning.

This post does not seek to repeat those valuable critiques. Instead, it takes a complementary perspective: it re-examines the supranational approach through the lens of the Property (Digital Assets etc.) Bill (“Digital Assets Bill” hereinafter), most likely soon to become an Act. Once enacted, the Act will supply the normative and conceptual foundation upon which private international law questions will inevitably rest. In fact, when read alongside the Digital Assets Bill, which recognises digital assets as a third category of property, the supranational approach appears increasingly detached.

The Digital Assets Bill: Reframing Property Foundations for the Digital Age

The Digital Assets Bill marks a pivotal step in English law’s modernisation of property concepts for the digital age. By recognising crypto-tokens and similar digital assets as a new category of personal property, the Bill confirms English law’s capacity to adapt established private law principles to technological change.

This recognition is not merely symbolic. It provides the foundation for ownership, transfer, and protection of digital assets within a stable legal framework. In doing so, the Digital Assets Bill preserves English law’s hallmark virtues: conceptual clarity, adaptability, and predictability as essential qualities for maintaining the UK’s standing as a global commercial and dispute resolution hub. It is precisely against this principled and structured property foundation that the Law Commission’s supranational approach begins to look unsteady.

The Supranational Turn: From Lex Situs to ‘Just Disposal’

Under conventional English conflict of laws rules, lex situs as the law of the place where the property is situated governs proprietary disputes. The rule anchors rights to a specific jurisdiction, providing clarity and foreseeability.

Based on the proposed supranational approach, the Law Commission, however, concludes that the lex situs rule cannot meaningfully apply to decentralised crypto tokens that “exist nowhere and everywhere.” It therefore proposes abandoning localisation altogether. Courts, instead of identifying a governing law through connecting factors, would resolve disputes by focusing on what is “just” in the circumstances, taking into account a wide range of contextual elements, including the parties’ expectations.

While this appears pragmatic, it effectively replaces rule-based determination with judicial discretion. The resulting framework may look flexible but functions unpredictably, particularly in transnational commercial settings where certainty and enforceability are indispensable.

Reassessing the Supranational Vision

The proposed approach becomes troubling. First of all, it relies on indefinite discretion without principle. The pursuit of justice is an unquestionable objective and we would ordinarily apply the multilateralist approach to achieve just. Yet,replacing connecting factors with “justice” as an open-ended guiding standard risks subjective and inconsistent results. Judicial discretion, untethered from doctrinal anchors, threatens the very values of uniformity, predictability and neutrality that conflict rules are designed to ensure.

This leads to the fragmentation of legal certainty. Cross-border commercial actors depend on predictable conflict rules to structure transactions and assess risk. Without clear localisation principles, it becomes impossible to determine the applicable law for transfer, title, or security rights over digital assets. As Matthias Lehmann astutely observed in his contribution to this symposium, such an approach will result in highly divergent substantive rules, since there will be no PIL mechanism to determine which national law applies, and each court will apply its own rules (which it may call ‘supranational’). This observation strikes at the heart of the problem: a “supranational” framework without a supranational authority risks generating disunity rather than convergence.

This uncertainty undermines the very function of the Digital Assets Bill as well, to create a coherent property regime for digital value. Therefore, the proposed approach leaves a doctrinal incompatibility with the Digital Assets Bill. Once enacted, it will be a property statute, not a procedural experiment. It presupposes that proprietary conflicts will continue to operate within structured, objective frameworks like lex situs or its redefined digital equivalents. Indeed, the Digital Assets Bill was designed to establish a normative framework for already existing judicial rulings which relied on the established multilateralist approach and connecting factors, e.g., in AA v Persons Unknown [2019] EWHC 3556 (Comm),Fetch.ai Ltd v Persons Unknown [2021] EWHC 2254 (Comm), Tulip Trading v Persons Unknown [2023] EWCA, Civ 83, etc.. The supranational proposal, by severing the link between substance and conflict rules, destabilises this relationship. The result is conceptual dissonance between the forthcoming Act’s property foundation and the Commission’s procedural innovation.

It is also worth noting that the supranational approach risks to depart from the Law Commission’s very own tripartite methodology in relation to digital assets (see Final Report, Chapter 2). By relying on discretion rather than principle, it halts common law development by incrementally refining doctrinal anchors. It avoids statutory reform at the precise moment when the Digital Assets Bill provides a model for targeted legislative clarity. Hence, it may sideline technical expertise, treating the problem of digital localisation as irrelevant rather than technologically solvable.

Notably, England has long prided itself on being a centre for global transactional law, dispute-resolution, and enforcement reliability. Likewise, the Law Commission several times restated that the laws of England and Wales are sufficiently flexible to accommodate digital assets (see Consultation Paper, para 1.17). To sustain this role in the digital-asset sphere, participants require clarity: what law binds my token, what court hears the dispute, what rules apply? The proposed justice-based discretion may discourage choice of English law as governing law because it reduces predictability, increases forum-shopping risk, and potentially fragments outcomes. Indeed, the Law Commission itself emphasised that “If the rules developed in relation to digital assets are inappropriate, digital asset platforms are less likely to select English law or to be based in the United Kingdom.” (see Digital assets as personal property: Supplemental report and draft Bill, para 4.9)

Altogether, instead of enhancing certainty, coherence, and responsiveness, the supranational proposal risks producing the opposite: incoherence, unpredictability, and diminished commercial confidence.

Reconceptualising Lex Situs, Not Replacing It

If digital assets are now property, the task is not to discard lex situs but to reimagine it. Several models already point the way: e.g., locating the asset with reference to the controlling person or the place of incorporation of the token issuer or linking it to the governing law of the digital system or platform. Each approach preserves the core values of private international law, certainty, foreseeability, and neutrality, while adapting them to decentralised technology. It is an evolution within the system, not an escape from it.

This is undoubtedly a complex undertaking, and the Law Commission’s sustained engagement with these challenges deserves genuine recognition. Yet, true progress may lie in aligning with the ongoing UNIDROIT and HCCH projects on Digital Tokens, initiatives where the Law Commission already participates as an Observer. Engagement through these platforms would ensure that English law’s reform remains both globally relevant and doctrinally consistent.

Grounded Leadership, Not Groundless Innovation

The Digital Assets Bill represents English law’s unique strength: principled adaptability grounded in the common law tradition. The supranational approach represents something different: innovation untethered from structure.

As the Bill becomes an Act, it will form the normative foundation for all future conflicts involving digital property. That foundation demands corresponding private international law rules that are principled, predictable, and anchored in the coherence of English property law.

English private international law does not need to transcend its structure to stay relevant. It needs to evolve within it. Its global influence has always rested not on radical departures, but on the capacity to modernise without losing doctrinal integrity to remain, quite literally, grounded.

This post was written by Sagi Peari, Associate Professor in Private and Commercial Law at the University of Western Australia Law School. It is the fourth contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the Law Commission of England and Wales’s Consultation Paper on Digital Assets and Electronic Trade Documents in Private International LawReaders are encouraged to participate in the discussion by commenting on the posts.


Learning to play the music of negotiable instruments law is incredibly difficult. It takes years to learn the technical terms, understand the underpinning private law nature of the doctrine, consider the case law and statutory provisions, grasp the utility of the underlying policy considerations, and reflect on the comparative outlook. It is understandable why—prior to the work of the Law Reform Commission of England and Wales (“Commission”)—modern conflict of laws reforms had excluded themselves from engaging with negotiable instruments. The most notable instance of such exclusion occurred in the Giuliano and Lagarde Report (1980). The inherent complexity and technicality of the field underscore the significance of the work performed by the Commission in Chapter 7 of its Consultation Paper on Digital Assets and (Electronic) Trade Documents in Private International Law (“Consultation Paper”). It is also evident that the Commission has learnt to play the music of negotiable instruments law while applying it in the context of the applicable law question.

The complexity of negotiable instruments law can be attributed to the interplay of the principles underpinning its normative structure. At the core of this structure lies classical contractual liability. Each contract executed under a negotiable instrument crystallises an independent legal relationship between a specific signatory party (referred to as the drawer, the acceptor, or the indorser) and the holder of the instrument. The liability of each signatory is determined by the specific legal relationship formed between that party and the instrument’s holder. For example, under the acceptor’s contract, the acceptor assumes the primary obligation to pay the amount specified in the instrument. By contrast, the drawer and indorser, through their respective contracts, guarantee the performance of that monetary obligation. Their signatures establish secondary obligations—namely, to reimburse the holder in the event of the acceptor’s dishonour. All three contracts also impose various implicit procedural requirements on the holder, intended to ensure fairness and legal certainty in the holder’s dealings with each signatory party.

However, contractual obligations alone do not fully account for the internal structure of negotiable instruments law. The requirement of delivery and the concept of negotiability—according to which a holder can transfer/”negotiate” the instrument to a third party—underpin the proprietary dimensions of this legal framework. A valid transfer of rights under the instrument must be completed through the act of declarative delivery (Bills of Exchange Act 1882 (“BEA”), s 21 (1)).  This requirement reflects a fundamental principle of property law, which assigns central importance to physical possession of a property item. Possession serves as a public signal to third parties regarding the identity of the rightful owner. Similarly, the protected status of a holder who acquires the instrument for value and in good faith derives from a related property law doctrine, which confers superior rights on a good faith purchaser for value.

Many aspects of the central features of negotiable instruments law outlined above remain highly contested between common law and civil law jurisdictions. Common law systems base their negotiable instruments law on the UK BEA, which has served as a model for several codification efforts in jurisdictions such as the United States, Australia, Canada, and South Africa. In contrast, civil law countries have adopted a different framework—the Geneva Conventions of 1930 and 1931—which have influenced countries including Germany, France, Spain, and Italy. Nonetheless, it has been argued that the underlying structures of negotiable instruments law are grounded in classical contract and property doctrines. As Benjamin Geva and I argue in our International Negotiable Instruments monograph (“INI”), there is no reason to exclude the conflict of laws rules applicable to those doctrines from negotiable instruments law, provided that this application involves appropriate qualifications and refinements.

It is clear that the Commission has closely considered INI in Chapter 7. This is evident from the Commission’s frequent explicit and implicit references to the monograph, which aimed to provide the overall reform framework for section 72 of the BEA. Notably, the Commission chose to adopt the key proposals and arguments presented in INI, including:

  • The rejection of the traditional hesitation within modern conflict of laws scholarship to engage with the complex nature of negotiable instruments, as evidenced in the classical Giuliano and Lagarde Report (Consultation Paper, 7.65, 7.147);
  • The recognition that the internal structure of negotiable instruments law is drawn—with proper qualifications—from underpinning private law doctrines (Consultation Paper, 7.42, 7.94, 7.153);
  • The recognition that the traditional rule of the place of contract formation, set out in section 72, must be reconsidered and qualified in light of the underlying rationales and policy considerations (Consultation Paper, 7.88, 7.116, 7.123–7.124);
  • The adoption of the party autonomy principle as a governing principle in the applicable law question (Consultation Paper, 7.133, 7.162–7.163);
  • The adoption of the principal distinction between primary and secondary parties (Consultation Paper, 7.59, 7.174, 7.184, 7.205-7.213, 7.221);
  • The adoption of the place of performance as the connecting factor to govern the obligations of the primary party on the instrument when there is no explicit choice of applicable law (Consultation Paper, 7.183, 7.189);
  • The broad interpretation of section 72(2) of the BEA (Consultation Paper, 7.161).

The adoption of the above-mentioned proposals and arguments is both remarkable and gratifying. It illustrates the central role that INI played in the work of the Commission, which underpins the broader notion of the paramount significance of academia in driving legal reform and social change.

True, the Commission has rejected some of the suggestions made in INI, such as INI’s support for the most significant relationship principle (INI, Chapter VI), its rejection of the validation principle (INI, Chapter VII(A), in particular para. 7.144), and the proposed rule governing the obligations of secondary parties to an instrument in the absence of an explicit choice of applicable law (INI, Chapter VI(B)). To maintain the internal coherence and logic of the arguments advocated in INI, it is hoped that the Commission will reconsider its position on these matters, for the following reasons:

  • The objections expressed in INI against the adoption of the “validation principle” (INI, chapter VII A, in particular 7.144) have been growing and have received validation in recent case law (Enka Insaat Ve Sanayi AS v OOO Insurance Co Chubb [2020] UKSC 38; see also also Ardavan Arzandeh, ‘The Validation Principle and the Choice-of-Law Question’ (2025) 141 LQR). It is important to state that, since contract law doctrine does not present many instances of a “formalities” requirement for contract formation, the jurisprudence of negotiable instruments law warrants particular attention;
  • INI’s support for the rule applicable to secondary parties on the instrument when there is no explicit choice of applicable law (Consultation Paper, 7.205–7.213) closely aligns with practical considerations of commercial utility and a careful assessment of case law spanning over a century (INI, chapter VI, B (2) (b) & (c));
  • INI’s support for the “most significant relationship” principle does not stem from a perception of this principle as an “escape clause” (Consultation Paper, 7.214–7.221), but rather from viewing it as a legitimate and foundational normative principle of the conflict of laws field (Sagi Peari, The Foundation of Choice of Law: Choice & Equality). The endorsement of this principle would be consistent with a careful review of the case law (INI, chapter VI, B (2) (b) & (c)) and would provide an important platform for the operation of legal rules in the age of digitalisation and the increasingly complex web of commercial dealings (INI, chapter VIII).

Despite these relatively minor deviations from INI, all in all, the Commission’s work on section 72 of the BEA represents a monumental achievement, marking a major step in articulating the modern conflict of laws rules applicable to a classical payment mechanism that patiently awaits reinvention in the age of commercialisation and digitalisation.

This post was written by Matthias Lehmann, Professor at the University of Vienna. It is the third contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the Law Commission of England and Wales’s Consultation Paper on Digital Assets and Electronic Trade Documents in Private International LawReaders are encouraged to participate in the discussion by commenting on the posts.


Depending on who you ask, PIL problems raised by digital assets are a nightmare or a delight for conflicts lawyers. The Law Commission for England and Wales’ recent consultation paper dated 5 June 2025 makes a new and particularly interesting proposal. Without any exaggeration, it can be called groundbreaking.

What is Omniterritoriality? An Explanation

At the bottom of the proposal is the idea that blockchains, the distributed registers on which digital assets are recorded, are “omniterritorial”. The term signifies that blockchains have, in principle, equally important connections to every state on the planet. This is because the nodes (computers) recording the blockchain are distributed around the world and keep an identical register of all previous transfers (hence the term “distributed ledger technology”, or DLT). This design was chosen intentionally to avoid a significant connection to a specific state, which could allow the latter to gain control over the blockchain (for more details, see here Part 1).

I am pleased to see that the expression “omniterritorial”, which I have coined (see here Chapter 24), is increasingly adopted. I had suggested it to argue that any state has the power to regulate blockchains under Public International Law. My point was to demonstrate that the application of national regulatory rules to the blockchain would not be a suspicious case of “extraterritoriality”, because the blockchain itself is “omniterritorial”, i.e. present in every state. Any state can claim legislative jurisdiction (i.e. “jurisdiction to prescribe”) under Public International Law because it has a genuine connection to blockchains and the assets recorded on them.

PIL as Inadequate for Blockchains and the New “Supranational” Approach

The Law Commission now uses this term for an entirely different purpose: to discredit the whole edifice of Private International Law (PIL). The Consultation Paper denounces the “multilaterialist rules” of PIL, which could only lead to the application of a specific national private law with a tenuous connection to the case. It also discards the application of the lex fori for being inapposite as a default rule.

Instead, the Law Commission tables a new “supranational” approach to completely overcome PIL. It suggests that the courts of England and Wales, when facing conflict-of-laws issues related to digital assets (widely understood as cryptocurrencies and tokens), should instead apply a new body of substantive rules. This body of rules should be developed incrementally on a case-by-case basis in line with the Common law method (Consultation Paper, para 6.75). While rejecting the simplistic slogan “code is law”, the Law Commission thinks that blockchain protocols (i.e. the software underpinning distributed ledger technology) and “any relevant blockchain conventions” (without any further specification), should, over time, be included in this body of rules (Consultation Paper, para 6.96-6.97). This approach would accommodate the parties’ legitimate and reasonable expectations much more than the application of a specific national law identified as applicable under PIL.

Assessment

Burcu Yüksel has already criticised in her post to this symposium the supranational approach as “rather confusing” and “heavily reliant on a substantial number of relevant cases being brought before the courts of England and Wales”. She has also criticised the significant uncertainty that would exist until a legal issue has actually been decided by a court.

To this justified criticism, I want to add another, more general point. The supranational approach is, in fact, not what its name suggests. The Law Commission does not propose international substantive law harmonisation, as it is done by international organisations (see e.g. the UNIDROIT Principles on Digital Assets and Private Law). What it proposes instead is judicial law-making with a transnational view, taking into account the special nature of the blockchain and the expectations of the parties.

The problem with judicial lawmaking, however, is that it tends to yield very divergent results. This is even true on the national level, where these differences have to be ironed out by an apex court, e.g the UK Supreme Court. But on the international level, such a court is lacking. It will be impossible to harmonise the different judicial rules of, say, the UK and France or China and the US absent a supranational body. But the Consultation Paper does not suggest or envisage creating such a body. This may be beyond its remit, but is indispensable for a “supranational” approach.

Eventually, one must therefore fear that the purported “supranational approach” will result in highly divergent substantive rules. The differences will be exacerbated by the fact that there will be no PIL mechanism to determine which national law applies. Each court will apply its own rules (which it may call “supranational”) to any dispute that comes before it. The determination of jurisdiction will thus coincide with that of the applicable law. Since jurisdiction rules often point to different courts, and the claimant can choose between them, this would inevitably cause surprises for defendants and uncertainty about the applicable law.

Outlook

The name “supranational approach” is misleading. In reality, what the Law Commission suggests is decentralised substantive law harmonisation through national courts. Experience suggests being sceptical about the success of this experiment, especially in such a new and contentious field as digital assets. Even within the UK, differences loom, as the Scottish Law Commission has issued a separate paper on digital assets, which suggests that “Scotland develops its own legislation to clarify the status of digital assets as property in Scots private law”. The paper suggests treating digital assets as a “kind of incorporeal moveable property”. It cannot be excluded that this will result in substantively different rules than those which the Law Commission for England and Wales has suggested for the “third category” of personal property rights.

On the truly supranational level, things are not exactly reassuring. UNIDROIT’s Principles on Private Law and Digital Assets are a milestone, yet they address merely a few issues such as good faith acquisition, custody and insolvency protection. They leave open other salient questions, such as the conditions, timing and effects of digital asset transfers or the treatment of “linked assets”, such as tokenised shares, bonds, and other movables or immovable things.

Hence, national substantive laws (including case law) will continue to diverge for the foreseeable future. In this diverse environment, the best tool to ensure legal certainty and predictability of the applicable rules for the parties is for courts to identify the applicable law in the same manner. This is the objective and the aspiration of PIL, and it works particularly well where the conflicts rules are harmonised, as suggested by UNIDROIT’s Principle 5 (see here) and currently explored by the HCCH Working Group on Digital Tokens. Despite the omniterritorial nature of the blockchain, it has been shown that an appropriate law can be identified, e.g. by referring to the choice of the parties, to the place of incorporation of a token issuer, the place of a custodian, or the place of habitual residence of the person in control of the digital asset (for more details see here, here and here). There is no need to spill out the baby with the bathwater and rely exclusively on the hope for a full harmonisation of substantive rules.

This post was written by Burcu Yüksel Ripley, Professor at the University of Aberdeen School of Law. It is the second contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the Law Commission of England and Wales’s Consultation Paper on Digital Assets and Electronic Trade Documents in Private International Law. Readers are encouraged to participate in the discussion by commenting on the posts.

The views expressed in the post are solely the author’s and do not represent the views of any advisory, working or expert groups she is part of on digital assets and related subject matters.


Background

The Law Commission of England and Wales (“LCEW”) has been conducting an important and timely law reform project on digital assets and electronic trade documents in private international law. It published its consultation paper with proposals for law reform on 5 June 2025, focusing mainly on wholly decentralised applications of distributed ledger technology (“DLT”).

Chapters 5 and 6 of the consultation paper deal with the applicable law (or the conflict of laws) issues. Chapter 5 gives an overview of the current approach to the conflict of laws and challenges posed by DLT. Chapter 6 identifies an alternative approach and makes a provisional proposal for law reform, the so-called “supranational approach”.

Current Approach to the Conflict of Laws and Challenges Posed by DLT

In its consultation paper, the LCEW refers to three distinct approaches to the conflict of laws, namely the “supranational” approach, the “unilateralist” or “statutist” approach, and the “multilateralist” approach, and it provides definitions and examples for each of them (paragraphs 5.5-5.12).

The LCEW notes that the multilateralist approach is the prevailing approach across jurisdictions in private international law today (paragraph 5.10). The LCEW provisionally proposes to move away from the multilateralist approach in cases concerning wholly decentralised application of DLT. This is because it considers that in such cases “omniterritorial transactions, acts, or objects … exhibit too many genuine connections to too many territories” and this challenges the core premise of the multilateralist approach that “every legal issue has a single objective seat in one legal system, which is identified through a connecting factor” (paragraphs 5.48-5.50).

To illustrate the difficulties with the multilateralist approach, the LCEW provides two case-studies concerning wholly decentralised applications of DLT and concludes that the existing rules result in being unable to identify the applicable law in those cases.

  1. Contracts (purportedly) concluded by smart contracts in wholly decentralised finance (“DeFi”) applications (paragraphs 5.62-5.113):

Regarding the existence and validity of such contracts, the consultation paper looks at Article 10(1) of the assimilated Rome I Regulation and, directed by that, Articles 3 and 4.

The consultation paper suggests that if there is a valid choice of law, the courts are likely to uphold the choice under Article 3 (paragraph 5.83).

If there is no choice of law, the consultation paper considers that the relevant provision in Article 4 for such contracts would be Article 4(4) which provides that the contract is governed by “the law of the country with which it is most closely connected” (paragraph 5.90). It then discusses some suggestions made for the identification of that law for Bitcoin transactions based on various connections, including the concentration of mining activity (paragraph 5.95-5.108). The consultation paper considers those connections tenuous and concludes that “an applicable law rule formulated on the basis of ‘the least tenuous’ connection that did not take legitimate expectations into account would be arbitrary and artificial, causing unfairness to the parties” (paragraphs 5.109-5.110).

Those connections, examined in the consultation paper, indeed seem to be rather tenuous and coincidental. However, if all the connections are tenuous as such, what are the “genuine connections” that the LCEW refers to in its starting point cited above that “omniterritorial transactions, acts, or objects … exhibit too many genuine connections to too many territories”?

The consultation paper does not consider other suggestions made based on the location of the transacting parties, to the extent that these are known or identifiable, or the technique of the “accessory connection” by making the transaction subject to the law of the underlying relationship between the transacting parties as the main connection (see further B. Yüksel Ripley, ‘The Law Applicable to (Digital) Transfer of Digital Assets: The Transfer of Cryptocurrencies via Blockchains’ in M. Fogt (ed) Private International Law in an Era of Change (Edward Elgar, 2024) 123, pp.148-151).

  1. Property relationships in respect of crypto-tokens held directly (paragraphs 5.114-5.155):

Regarding property issues arising in wholly decentralised DLT systems, the consultation paper examines the challenges in the application of the lex situs (the law of the place where the property object is situated) rule to crypto-tokens. It is indeed difficult to identify the location of an asset with no physical existence in a decentralised and digital context.

The consultation paper considers various possible “locations” for cryptoassets, including (paragraphs 5.146-5.154):

  • the place of domicile or residence of the owner (referring to “the party in possession of the private encryption key giving access to the cryptocurrency at the time of the relevant transaction” in Lord Collins of Mapesbury and Jonathan Harris (gen eds), Dicey, Morris & Collins on the Conflict of Laws, 16th edn (Sweet & Maxwell, 2022), paragraph 23-050);
  • the place where the original coder has their primary residence (suggested by the Financial Markets Law Committee (FMLC));
  • the location of the relevant participant, or the residence or domicile of the person in control of the crypto-token (suggested by some of the call for evidence respondents).

The consultation paper does not consider “the place of habitual residence or business of the last known holder of the cryptoasset” (see B. Yüksel Ripley, A. Macpherson and L. Carey, ‘Digital Assets in Scots Private Law: Innovating for the Future’ (2025) 29 Edinburgh Law Review 175, pp.207 and 210).

The LCEW provisionally concludes that the existing lex situs rule does not give a satisfactory answer in this context and that an alternative approach is required (paragraph 5.155).

It is interesting to note that the LCEW examines the situs question for the purposes of jurisdiction too but reaches a different conclusion that it is “the place where the crypto-token can be controlled” (paragraphs 4.134-4.143 and 4.171). It is not entirely clear, in the consultation paper (paragraphs 5.146-5.147), why a crypto-token, which is deemed for the purposes of jurisdiction to be located in the place where it can be controlled, is considered to have no location (or be “nowhere and everywhere at the same time”), in determining the applicable law.

LCEW’s Proposal for Law Reform: “Supranational Approach”

In an attempt to develop an alternative solution, the LCEW provisionally proposes a “supranational approach” (chapter 6 of the consultation paper).

This is explained in the consultation paper as “developing a set of special rules that would apply in the event that a court in England and Wales is faced with a case with an omniterritorial element” (paragraph 6.59). The consultation paper continues that:

… Whilst any substantive rules developed and applied by the courts of England and Wales would ultimately remain a common law decision of our courts, it would not be an application of the “ordinary” law of England and Wales that would continue to apply in a purely domestic case. Rather, it would be a special body of substantive rules of decision that apply only in private law cases in which the law of no country would be appropriate to apply to resolve the issue in dispute, and the law of every country would be appropriate to apply to resolve the issue in dispute (paragraph 6.60).

The consultation paper further explains that “the overall objective of the courts in these cases should be the just disposal of the proceedings” and to achieve this “the courts should take into account a wide range of factors”. This would include, in particular, “the legitimate expectations of the parties which, in these circumstances, are likely to consider elements of the basis on which the participants have interacted with the relevant system, such as the terms of the protocol”. It is also proposed that “the outcomes of the case will remain subject to the public policy and overriding mandatory rules of England and Wales” (paragraph 6.128).

The proposal seems to be based on a substantive law solution, rather than a private international law solution. However, what is being proposed is rather confusing and heavily reliant on a substantial number of relevant cases being brought before the courts of England and Wales, in order to develop a special set of substantive rules. Further, no one would be able to know what the applicable law is (or which relevant legal rules will be applied) until a dispute arises, is brought before a court in England and Wales, and the court determines on this. This would bring significant uncertainty and offer no legal foreseeability and predictability on the applicable law (or the relevant legal rules to be applied), which could create concerns for relevant stakeholders given that legal certainty and predictability are crucial for commercial transactions (see further B. Yüksel Ripley and A. MacPherson, ‘Response to Law Commission of England and Wales Consultation on Digital Assets and (Electronic) Trade Documents in Private International Law including Section 72 of the Bills of Exchange Act 1882’, paragraphs 28 and 34; the Consultation Response by the Law Society of Scotland, pp.8-10).

Concerning the objective of the “just disposal of the proceedings”, the proposal is unclear regarding what criteria the court would decide are “just” in the disposal of the proceedings. Similarly, in a case before a court, “the legitimate expectations of the parties” would be inevitably different, which is why there is a dispute between them (see further B. Yüksel Ripley and A. MacPherson, ‘Response to Law Commission of England and Wales Consultation on Digital Assets and (Electronic) Trade Documents in Private International Law including Section 72 of the Bills of Exchange Act 1882’, paragraph 31).

Implementation Mechanism for the LCEW’s Proposal

The LCEW considers that it is too early to propose statutory reform in relation to conflict of laws matters concerning digital assets. It seems to suggest “the common law method of case-by-case development” as these issues begin to come before the courts (paragraphs 6.129-6.130). The LCEW further considers that a statutory rule might not necessarily be the most appropriate method of implementation for its proposal at any stage (paragraph 6.131).

It remains unclear though on what legal ground a court could possibly not apply (or could disapply) the relevant existing conflict of laws rules in legislation (such as the Rome I Regulation) and instead apply the proposed supranational approach (see U. Grušić, ‘Law Commission’s Consultation Paper on Digital Assets/ETDs and PIL: An Outline’; B. Yüksel Ripley and A. MacPherson, ‘Response to Law Commission of England and Wales Consultation on Digital Assets and (Electronic) Trade Documents in Private International Law including Section 72 of the Bills of Exchange Act 1882’, paragraph 33).

Final Remarks

Digital assets in decentralised and digital contexts raise difficult conflict of laws questions. The LCEW’s attempt to provide solutions to these difficult questions is valuable. However, the proposed supranational approach is ambiguous and confusing in some respects and brings uncertainty and unpredictability.

Given the growing support for party autonomy in this area, as seen in Principle 5 of the UNIDROIT Principles on Digital Assets and Private Law and the FMLC’s proposals in Digital Assets: Governing Law and Jurisdiction, it would be desirable if the LCEW further considers party autonomy and related issues in this law reform project. Such issues include the operation of party autonomy among pseudonymous participants, the extent it can apply to property law matters, the impact of weaker party protection in this context, and the effect of choice of law on third parties. It is true that there might be typically no choice of law clauses in permissionless systems, but there is no reason to exclude this possibility altogether from the future developments in the area (B. Yüksel Ripley and A. MacPherson, ‘Response to Law Commission of England and Wales Consultation on Digital Assets and (Electronic) Trade Documents in Private International Law including Section 72 of the Bills of Exchange Act 1882’, paragraphs 4 and 32).

It is also useful to emphasise that the relevant projects and work of various international organisations, particularly the HCCH, UNIDROIT, and UNCITRAL, are valuable and important for the development of widely accepted and internationally agreed conflict of laws rules as well as substantive law rules.

This post was written by Koji Takahashi, Professor at the Doshisha University Law School. It is the first contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the Law Commission of England and Wales’s Consultation Paper on Digital Assets and Electronic Trade Documents in Private International Law. Readers are encouraged to participate in the discussion by commenting on the posts.


The Law Commission of England and Wales, in its consultation paper Digital Assets and (Electronic) Trade Documents in Private International Law, has put forth a proposal for a new power to issue information orders (paras. 8.1-8.3). This initiative aims to assist victims of crypto hacks or fraud in overcoming existing legal obstacles to recover their assets.

Victims of crypto theft can often trace misappropriated tokens on public blockchains, but the anonymity of these systems typically conceals the wrongdoer’s identity. However, some blockchain addresses are linked to known entities, such as crypto-token exchanges, which hold “know your customer” (KYC) details of their account holders. The proposed order aims to enable victims whose stolen tokens have passed through an identifiable exchange to obtain account holder information, potentially leading to the wrongdoer’s identification.

Usefulness of the Proposed Order

The Law Commission solicited feedback on the proposed order’s usefulness in facilitating legal proceedings and ultimately, the recovery of crypto-tokens (para. 8.4). To address this question, one might consider the functions of exchanges, the adequacy of the existing legal avenues and the advantages of a free-standing order, as detailed below.

1. Functions of exchanges

The proposed order’s usefulness is partly contingent on the extent to which wrongdoers utilise centralised exchanges (CEXs). They can exploit CEXs for money laundering by depositing illicit tokens (e.g., Crypto-token A) into an exchange’s address. The exchange then mixes these funds with legitimate deposits from other customers within its omnibus address. Subsequently, the wrongdoers withdraw the equivalent value in a different asset (e.g., Crypto-token B) to a new address. While this internal pooling and swapping of assets by the exchange severs the on-chain transaction trail, sophisticated criminals are increasingly turning to decentralised exchanges (DEXs) to obscure the origins of illicit funds, limiting the utility of CEXs as mixers. However, CEXs remain crucial as exit ramps for converting crypto-tokens into fiat currencies, making them a reasonable target for investigations. At the same time, it should also be acknowledged that an account holder at an exchange may not be the wrongdoer but merely a purchaser down the chain. It follows that simply revealing the identity of this person may not be sufficient; a further investigation following up the chain may be required to see if it ultimately leads to the wrongdoer’s identity. The practical usefulness of the proposed information order must be considered within these limitations.

2. Adequacy of existing legal avenues

The Law Commission’s proposal seeks to offer a solution to the current legal challenges. Under English law, victims currently petition courts for the ancillary relief of information orders, such as Norwich Pharmacal and Bankers Trust orders, against the relevant exchange. Due to the unknown identity and whereabouts of the wrongdoer, victims must construct a placeholder claim against “persons unknown” and seek permission for the service of proceedings out of the jurisdiction. Gateway 25 (Civil Procedure Rules, PD 6B.3.1(25)) provides a jurisdictional ground for this purpose. In the observation of the Law Commission, however, the requirement in this gateway that “the claimant at least intends to commence proceedings in England and Wales is a significant limitation” (para 3.80).

Gateway 25 was introduced in 2022 specifically with crypto fraud claims in mind (See Hannah Daly & Andrew James, “Searching for Assets in Cyberspace: A New Gateway Opens?” and Hui, Chee, Poppy, & Watt, “The New Service out Gateway for Third Party Information Orders”). It supports an application “made for the purpose of proceedings … which, subject to the content of the information received, are intended to be commenced … in England and Wales.” The words “subject to the content of the information received” indicates that a claimant is not bound to bring proceedings in England, if information received pursuant to the application discloses another more appropriate forum. Not forcing the claimant to commit upfront to suing in England, the language of Gateway 25 does not come across as posing a significant limitation.

3. Advantage of a free-standing order

Despite the potential remaining utility of Gateway 25 as just noted, the Law Commission’s proposal for a new power to issue information orders seems to represent an advancement.

The current system is a convoluted legal workaround, forcing victims into an awkward position of fabricating a nominal claim against anonymous defendants. This also necessitates unconventional and legally dubious methods of service, such as WhatsApp or NFT transfers. The proposed free-standing order would simplify the process by eliminating the need for a fabricated lawsuit and service on an unknown defendant. This directly aligns with the claimant’s goal of obtaining information from an innocent intermediary and promotes a more straightforward legal analysis.

While the judiciary’s main function lies in settling contentious disputes between two parties, disclosure orders issued against innocent intermediaries do not fall within this core function. This renders standard theories of adjudicatory jurisdiction unfit to apply to this type of orders. Instead, the threshold for such orders should be formulated by considering available resources and the interests of various stakeholders. In this regard, it may be helpful to draw parallels with disclosure orders used to identify anonymous online infringers of personality rights. Both scenarios involve a digital detective story to uncover wrongdoers. Just as crypto fraud victims may request information from exchanges, parties whose personality rights have been infringed seek information from internet service providers (See Koji Takahashi, “International Dimensions of Unmasking Anonymous Online Infringers of Personality Rights” (2015/2016) 17 Yearbook of Private International Law pp. 181-208).

Proposed Test for Granting the Order

While acknowledging the usefulness of the Law Commission’s proposed order, it seems also important to highlight its radical nature. It is a new investigative tool that targets an innocent intermediary which may be located abroad. It is also a free-standing order, not requiring a concrete case brought against the actual wrongdoer. Even criminal investigations typically require international cooperation to access information held by exchanges located abroad.

Apparently conscious of the proposal’s radical nature, the Law Commission frames this new power not as arbitrary, but as a carefully circumscribed exception. Inspired by precedents such as free-standing freezing orders and forum necessitatis, a four-limb threshold test is proposed (para. 8.3).

The self-evident element of the formulated test is necessity, as the primary goal of the proposal is to prevent technology from creating a space where justice cannot reach and criminals can operate with impunity.

Another element of the test is the merit of the claimant’s case. In the words of the Law Commission, “the court must be satisfied that there has clearly been wrongdoing on facts that disclose a potential case that is more than barely capable of serious argument and yet not necessarily one which the judge believes to have a better than 50 per cent chance of success” (para. 8.3). It seems wise to avoid setting the bar any higher because the strength of the claimant’s case depends on the facts and the applicable law. The stolen tokens may have found their way into the hands of a bona fide purchaser who has acquired a good title under the applicable law. The choice-of-law question here is exceptionally challenging (See Koji Takahashi, “Law Applicable to Proprietary Issues of Crypto-assets” (2022) 18(3) Journal of Private International Law pp. 339, 347-357). At the investigative stage of litigation, it should be sufficient to filter out frivolous claims.

The test’s third component, impossibility or unreasonableness, is explained by the Law Commission as meaning that the court must be satisfied that there is no other court in which the claimant could reasonably bring the application for relief. Given the potential ambiguity regarding whether, and on what grounds, courts in the exchange’s home country will issue a disclosure order, this hurdle may prove challenging to overcome, making Gateway 25 an easier option in some cases. Nevertheless, this requirement appears sensible for a free-standing order.

And finally, a link to England and Wales is required. The Law Commission explains, “the claimant’s habitual residence, domicile, or nationality would indicate such connection” (para. 4.103). Making judicial resources for the proposed order only available to the claimants with established connections to England seems prudent. It would ensure that the English courts are not stretched to act as a global inspector general.

Discretion in Granting the Order

The Law Commission frames the power to issue the proposed order as discretionary. What follows will suggest a few major considerations that should be entertained.

1. Effectiveness of the order

A crucial consideration would be the effectiveness of information orders. It is worth recalling that effectiveness is also an important element in assessing the expediency of worldwide freezing orders (Motorola Credit Corporation v Uzan [2003] EWCA Civ 752). The English court’s authority is undermined if its order is disobeyed. The Law Commission is, therefore, rightly concerned about the effectiveness of its proposed order. It invited feedback on whether exchanges are likely to comply with this order (para. 8.5). Being an investigative order, the proposed order is unlikely to be enforced abroad. Consequently, a foreign-based exchange may only comply with the English order if it is concerned about the reputational risk or if it is susceptible to the English court’s power of sanction for contempt of court due to the presence of its business interests or assets within the jurisdiction. The English court should exercise its discretion against issuing an information order, if it is likely to end up as an empty gesture.

2. Catch-22 situation for exchanges

Another consideration worth highlighting is the risk for exchanges of being caught in a catch-22 situation. They are generally subject to contractual or statutory duties to maintain customer confidentiality. For foreign-based exchanges, these duties may only be lifted if the English information order is recognised de facto or de jure. It may be recalled that the House of Lords ruled against issuing a third-party debt order (garnishee order) which would put the third-party debtor in double jeopardy (Deutsche Schachtbau v Shell International Petroleum Co Ltd [1990] 1 AC 295 and Société Eram Shipping Company Limited v Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation Limited [2003] UKHL 30). In the same vein, if an exchange demonstrates a real risk of liability or punishment for breaching confidentiality in its home country, the English court should exercise its discretion against issuing the information order.

Overall, if implemented with care, the Law Commission’s proposed order has the potential to become a chief investigative tool in the crypto ecosystem, ensuring that the courthouse doors remain open even when wrongdoers hide behind a veil of digital anonymity.

On 5 June 2025, the Law Commission of England and Wales published a consultation paper (papersummary) proposing reform to certain rules of private international law that apply in the context of digital assets and electronic trade documents. This development was covered by the EAPIL blog.

In brief, the Consultation Paper makes four key contributions:

  1. Proposals for a new free-standing information order, designed to assist claimants at the initial investigation stage of proceedings where the pseudo-anonymous and decentralised nature of the crypto-token environment presents significant obstacles to formulating and issuing a fully pleaded substantive claim;
  2. An analysis of the preferred interpretation of the tort and property jurisdictional gateways for service out of the jurisdiction in the context of claims relating to crypto-tokens;
  3. Proposals for a supranational approach in cases where the degree of decentralisation is such that the Rome I Regulation and the lex situs rule cannot meaningfully apply;
  4. Proposals to reform section 72 of the Bills of Exchange Act 1882 (‘1882 Act’) for all disputes, whether or not concerning electronic trading documents

The proposals have generated significant interest. The proposals for a supranational approach are particularly radical and controversial, whereas the proposals for a new free-standing information order and to reform section 72 of the 1882 Act represent more incremental reforms.

Given their importance, the EAPIL blog will host an online symposium on the proposals on 5-7 November 2025.

The focus will be on proposals 1, 3 and 4. These aspects of the Consultation Paper will be discussed by Koji Takahashi (Doshisha University), Burcu Yüksel Ripley (University of Aberdeen), Matthias Lehmann (University of Vienna), Aygun Mammadzada (Swansea University). and Sagi Peari (University of Western Australia). Koji will cover the proposals for a new free-standing information order, BurcuMatthias and Aygun will discuss the proposals for a supranational approach, and Sagi will address the proposals to reform section 72 of the 1882 Act.

We are very fortunate to have contributions from these four contributors, whose scholarship has significantly influenced the Law Commission’s thinking, as is clear from the references in the Consultation Paper.

As always, readers are encouraged to participate in the discussion by commenting on the posts.

This post was written by Sara Migliorini and João Ilhão Moreira, who both teach at the Faculty of Law of the University of Macau. It builds on article they co-authored, titled Clashing Frameworks: the EU AI Act and Arbitration, just published on the European Journal of Risk Regulation.


The EU AI Act (hereinafter, the “Act” or the “AI Act”) is now in force, and arbitration is firmly in its sights. The Act classifies certain uses of AI in arbitration as ‘high risk’, triggering a demanding set of obligations for providers and deployers alike: arbitral institutions, individual arbitrators, and specialised legal tech companies.

In doing so, the Act directly affects cornerstone principles of arbitration, such as party autonomy, procedural flexibility, and confidentiality. As we argue in our recent article, this marks a sharp departure from the EU’s long-standing hands-off approach to commercial arbitration.

With the Act’s high‑risk provisions set to take effect within the next 15 months, we think it is timely to assess their impact and take steps to mitigate potential negative effects, including a targeted carve‑out for commercial arbitration.

The Traditional EU Approach to Arbitration

Over the years, EU law and arbitration have had a relationship that, with the exception of consumer arbitration, was largely one of mutual indifference. Despite available legislative avenues, the EU’s competence to regulate arbitration has been significantly underutilised. For example, although Article 81 TFEU empowers the EU to adopt harmonisation measures for the development of ADR, arbitration has been systematically excluded from measures based on Article 81. This approach appears to be substantially maintained in the latest document by the Commission regarding the review the Brussels I bis Regulation.  The CJEU has traditionally interpreted these exclusions broadly, confirming the EU’s restraint in regulating arbitration (e.g.London Steam-Ship).

On occasion, the EU legislator has utilised other legal bases to regulate arbitration, notably in the area of consumer protection (e.g., the Consumer ADR Directive, or the Digital Service Act). Yet commercial arbitration, as a whole, has remained largely untouched by direct EU legislation.Consequently, before the AI Act, the relationship between EU law and commercial arbitration was mainly limited to issues of substantive law arising out of court proceedings related to arbitrations and awards. The classic concern was the risk that arbitrators might commit errors of law and the fact that, unlike in litigation, there are limited avenues to correct such errors. In such contexts, the CJEU has addressed matters of arbitrability (e.g., Mostaza Claro), public policy (e.g., Eco Swiss), and generally the interaction with the judicial procedures for the annulment, recognition, and enforcement of arbitral awards (e.g., London Steam-Ship).

By contrast, EU law has abstained from regulating procedural issues of commercial arbitration. Traditionally, such aspects are regulated by party autonomy (often through institutional rules), supplemented by national arbitration laws and rules produced by the arbitral community itself.

The EU’s legislative and judicial abstention has sustained the doctrinal view that the EU’s legal order and commercial arbitration would evolve in parallel, with minimal interference between them. This arrangement was welcomed by a community that has historically self-regulated.

High-Risk Classification under the Act

Things have changed with the AI Act. Under the combined reading of Article 6, Annex III(8)(a), and Recital (53), AI systems are classified as high risk where they are intended to (1) assist arbitrators in researching or interpreting facts and the law, (2) apply the law to a specific set of facts, unless they fall within a closed series of use cases where the impact on fundamental rights and decision-making is not substantial.

Such use cases are (a) “narrow procedural tasks”, such as transforming unstructured data or classifying documents; (b) tasks that are adjunct to human effort, such as enhancing the language of documents; and (c) preparatory tasks, such as indexing and data processing activities.

This definition raises questions of interpretation, especially while we wait for the European Commission to issue clarifying guidelines (due in February 2026).

In our view, there are clear-cut cases. For example, AI used for ancillary tasks such as proofreading or language enhancement falls outside the high‑risk category, as these functions merely refine prior human work. By contrast, use of AI for any core decision‑making task is unequivocally high risk (and very likely in tension with existing principles of arbitration).

However, between these extremes lies a vast grey area: tasks like legal research, drafting, summarizing or reviewing submissions can still shape how arbitrators interpret facts and the law. Given this, the Act’s broad language might cause uncertainty for potential addressees of these rules.

Personal Scope and Obligations

Where a system is high risk, two groups of actors assume compliance obligations: those who develop or commercialise the systems (“providers”) and those who use such systems under their own authority (“deployers”).

Arbitral institutions, individual arbitrators, and specialised legal tech companies will be subject to obligations in both capacities.

The demanding obligations for providers are listed in Sections 2 and 3 of the Act and include: risk management (Article 9), data quality/governance (Article 10), effective human oversight (Article 14), accuracy, robustness, and cybersecurity (Article 15), registration of the system, demonstration of conformity on request, and accessibility compliance (Article 16).

The relatively less demanding obligations for deployers are listed in Article 26 and include: keeping logs for at least six months, organising oversight implementation, and ensuring suitable input data, among others.

Arbitral Institutions and Specialised Legal Tech Companies

Many tools currently marketed to support arbitration, from legal research platforms to document analysis systems, will likely be qualified as ‘high-risk’, because they are, indeed, intended to be used to research facts and the law. Even more general legal tech widely used in law firms, such as Harvey or Robin AI, may qualify as high risk when used by arbitrators. In all these cases, the costs and regulatory uncertainty may prove particularly burdensome for smaller providers and institutions.

Individual Arbitrators

Arbitrators using AI tools face two scenarios. Firstly, an arbitrator who relies on an AI system specifically designed for arbitration will be treated as a “deployer” of a high‑risk system and subject to the relevant obligations.

Secondly, general-pourpose tools not specifically designed for arbitration and not considered AI risk, such as ChatGPT, may still fall into the high‑risk category if used for legal reasoning or applying the law to facts. A literal reading of Article 25 of the Act could even mean that arbitrators who use systems such as ChatGPT, may be requalified and fall within provider‑level obligations, which are more demanding than provider-level obbligations.

Difficulties in Enforcement

Notwithstanding all the uncertainty surrounding its interpretation, non‑compliance with the Act exposes actors to serious risks. Fines are up to 15 million Euros or 3% of global turnover, whichever is higher. For individual arbitrators, small firms, or smaller institutions, such fines may be unsustainable, discouraging innovation and consolidating the market around large providers.

Arbitrators also face reputational and, possibly, civil liability risks, with unresolved questions as to how misuse of AI might affect the validity of an award.

Enforcement is complicated by the confidentiality of arbitration. Under current confidentiality practices, it may be difficult to determine whether AI was used, let alone whether its use complied with the Act. For example, reliance on AI for legal research may never appear in the procedural record. How enforcement might affect the duties of arbitrators, notably with respect to confidentiality, remains also to be seen.

Impact Outside of the EU

The Act’s extraterritorial scope adds further complexity. Under Article 2, the Act applies not only to EU‑based providers and deployers, but also to those outside the EU when (a) the output of an AI system is used within the EU, or (b) an affected party is located in the EU.

EU‑based companies, institutions, and arbitrators fall directly under the Act. However, depending on how “use of an output” in the EU is interpreted, it can be argued that the Act extends to non‑EU arbitral institutions and arbitrators who, although physically outside the EU, conduct arbitral proceedings that are legally seated in the EU.  The expression “use of an output”  may even cover enforcement of awards before EU courts or cases involving a party located in the EU, irrespective of any other link with the EU.

For non‑EU actors in particular, this creates significant uncertainty.

Our Proposal

 We belive that the best option would be for the EU Commission to completely exclude commercial arbitration from the scope of the Act. This could be done via a delegated act under Article 7(3), which would exclude commercial arbitraiton from Annex III(8)(a), while keeping consumer ADR within the Act’s scope.

An alternative option would be for the EU Commission to adopt guidelines under Article 6(5) of the Act, clarifying which uses of AI in arbitration are not high risk, following consultation with arbitral institutions and practitioners.

The author of this post is Michiel Poesen, co-director of the Centre for Private International Law and Transnational Governance and lecturer of private international law at the University of Aberdeen.


This post considers which country’s copyright law governs the training and development (“T&D”) of generative AI (“GenAI”) for commercial purposes. It does so from a European Union perspective.

It first sets out the starting position under Article 8(1) of the Rome II Regulation: the T&D of GenAI is governed by the copyright laws of the country where the relevant training and development activities took place. It argues that this default position allows developers of AI models that underpin GenAI to offshore T&D activities to jurisdictions with lenient copyright protection laws. Then, this post critically engages with the potential extraterritorial application of EU copyright law to T&D activities that took place outside of the EU.

The post concludes that some new ideas are needed should policy makers want to extend EU copyright law to T&D activities that take place outwith the EU.

One of GenAI’s Many Copyright Problems

GenAI relies on complex AI models (usually LLMs – Large Language Models) that are able to generate various types of output, such as images, text, and/or video. To be able to generate that output, AI models are trained on massive datasets, which comprise data scraped off the internet by developers and/or included in existing databases. Often those datasets contain materials that are protected by copyright. If no relevant copyright exception applies, the developer of an AI model intended for commercial use would ideally obtain a license allowing them to use protected materials to train and develop their model. In reality, though, training datasets may include copyrighted materials that are downloaded, stored, and used for T&D purposes without the copyright holder’s permission.

Arguably, the use of copyrighted work to train and develop an AI model might constitute a copyright infringement. There is a plethora of copyright infringement lawsuits around the world that centre on exactly this issue (for instance Getty Images v Stability AI in the UK, discussed here). Whether there is any merit to an infringement case is not the focus of this blogpost: answering this question is left to substantive copyright (for examples where a court accepted that a copyright exception applied, see for instance LAION v Knesche – where the use of copyrighted work was justified for research purposes).  This being said, an arguably more fundamental procedural issue arises before we can decide whether the use of copyrighted work for T&D purposes constitutes a copyright infringement or not: which country’s copyright law should we apply to decide whether the use of copyrighted work to train and develop an AI model constitutes an infringement?

Copyright Territoriality: Applying the Law of the Country Where Training & Development Took Place

In the EU (and in most other legal systems, too), the starting position is relatively straightforward. T&D is governed by the copyright law of the country where it took place. This approach relies on two consecutive logical steps. As detailed in the next section, however, this fairly clear two-step approach has been muddled in the EU by the Artificial Intelligence Act (“AI Act”).

First, the basic principle to determine the law applicable to non-contractual copyright infringement is lex loci protectionis. If a copyright holder relies on copyright protection under the law of country X, then the copyright law of country X will apply to determine whether an infringement took place. This principle can be found in Article 8(1) of the Rome II Regulation. But this does not mean that copyright protection is automatically granted by the law of X.

In the second step, the law of the country thus identified decides whether copyright protection is afforded against the alleged act(s) of infringement. Crucially, this assessment has a territorial component: protection will only be afforded against infringements occurring on the territory of the country under whose copyright law the copyright holder claims protection. This follows from the territorial nature of copyright laws, according to which protection is only granted against infringements that occur on the territory of the country on whose copyright laws the copyright holder relies. If this principle is applied to the T&D of an AI model, then protection is only afforded if the T&D activities (i.e. the relevant act(s) of infringement) took place in the country under whose copyright law a copyright holder claims protection. To illustrate, if copyrighted materials were downloaded and stored for T&D purposes on a server in country Y yet the copyright holder claims protection under the law of country X, the copyright law of X will not afford protection. The copyright holder might be able to rely on copyright protection in country Y, though, if they can show that their work is granted copyright protection there.

It should be noted that T&D can comprise multiple acts of infringements. An excellent overview of the various steps involved in the T&D of an AI model is given here by the U.S. Copyright Office. In general terms, the law governing each individual act of infringement should be determined according to the approach outlined above. However, some jurisdictions may accept that secondary infringements are subjected to the law applicable to the primary infringement. Whether certain infringing acts occurring during T&D ought to be qualified as secondary infringements is subject to debate and ultimately is a matter of how the claimant chooses to frame their claim under substantive copyright law.

The two-step approach discussed here has a mayor flaw: it facilitates “forum shopping”. AI developers can exploit it to offshore servers and/or physical devices used during the T&D process to jurisdictions with weak copyright protection. Once the model is trained, it can then be introduced in one or more countries that have stronger copyright protection. To illustrate, a developer in country Z may decide to train and develop a model in country X to avoid strict copyright laws in Z which put stringent conditions on the use of copyrighted work for T&D purposes. Once T&D is completed, the model can then be placed onto the market in Z.

The forum shopping problem is not merely hypothetical. Forum shopping may be attractive given that copyright law is characterised by a high degree of national and regional diversity. To illustrate, EU law gives copyright holders the right to object against the use of their work by developers to train and develop an AI model, through a machine readable opt-out declaration (see Article 4 of the CDSM Directive). The approach described above would allow a developer to circumvent the EU’s opt-out mechanism by offshoring T&D activities to a third country that does not allow copyright holders to opt out as such (for example the US, where a more general “fair use” test is applied).

A Better Solution? Copyright Extraterritoriality

By now, it has become clear that the forum shopping problem is important, for it allows developers of AI models to avoid copyright protection by strategically relocating their T&D activities in a jurisdiction that has more favourable copyright laws. A growing number of scholars argue that the AI Act helps to address the forum shopping problem through the “market entry requirement” (a term used by Abbamonte (2024) 46 European Intellectual Property Review 479, 485). According to this approach, EU copyright law (including the CDSM Directive’s opt-out mechanism) applies to models that were trained and developed outside of the EU yet placed onto the Union market. The suggested approach is by no means new. It is also adopted in similar guises in other EU instruments, such as the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR), Article 3(2)(a) or the Digital Services Act, Article 2(1). However, the “market entry requirement” rests on a somewhat intricate argument when applied to conflicts of copyright laws.

Various scholars (e.g. Peukert, 2024; Stieper and Denga, 2024; Rosati, 2024) have argued that the “market entry requirement” follows from Article 53(1)(c) of the AI Act, according to which providers of “general-purpose AI models” or “GPAI” (which includes LLMs used in GenAI systems) should “put in place a policy to comply with Union law on copyright and related rights”. This obligation applies if a GPAI model is place onto the Union market per Article 2(1)(a) of the AI Act. Therefore, if a US developer seeks to place a LLM model onto the EU market, then they should draft a policy that explains how they will comply with EU copyright law. Scholars argue that the obligation to put in place such a policy would be meaningless unless providers of AI models also must comply with EU copyright law if they place a model onto the EU market. In other words, models that are placed on the EU market yet trained outside of the EU should comply with EU copyright law.

While I agree that the forum shopping problem is highly relevant, I for one am not sure that the AI Act helps to address it. I am not convinced that the Article 53(1)(c) of the AI Act extends EU copyright law to T&D that took place outside of the EU. The obligation to put in place a copyright policy is just that. It does not touch upon the territorial scope of application of EU copyright law. Admittedly, Recital 106 of the AI Act lends some support to the “market entry requirement”, yet the text of the AI Act is perfectly clear and does not leave room for interpretation as to its meaning. It is my view therefore (which I share with Quintais, 2025 and 2024) that GenAI model training and development is subject to the copyright laws of the country where the relevant T&D activities took place. Which reading is the right one will need to be clarified sooner rather than later, since the issue is of great importance to the AI industry and creators whose work is used for T&D.

There may be alternatives for the “market entry requirement” to address the forum shopping problem. For example, one could argue that instead of the law of the country/countries where T&D took place, the law of the country where the server on which the protected material that was used to train and develop an AI model is stored should be applied. For instance, if a copyright holder’s work is stored on a server in country X, then the copyright laws of country X will determine whether the work can legally be used to train and develop an AI model in country Y. Peukert called this the lex scraping approach, as it subject T&D to the law of the country where the server is located on which the scraped material was stored. Another alternative would be the country of origin approach, according to which T&D is governed by the copyright law of the country where the infringer is resident (in the EU, habitual residence could be used).

The drawbacks of both the lex scraping approach and the country of origin approach is that they too merely recreate for forum shopping in a different form. The copyright holder might place their work on a server in a jurisdiction that has favourable copyright protection laws; the developer may relocate its habitual residence to a jurisdiction with lenient copyright laws.

New Ideas Are Needed

To conclude, the current territorial application of copyright law allows developers of GenAI systems to forum shop by offshoring the T&D of their AI models to jurisdictions with lenient copyright protection laws. The AI Act does not seem to alleviate this forum shopping problem, although several scholars have argued the opposite. Other approaches, such as the lex scraping approach or country of origin approach merely reproduce the forum shopping in a different form.

Some new ideas seem to be needed should policy makers aims to address the forum shopping problem. Territoriality as currently understood seems to be inadequate. It is conceived as geographical territoriality, since it is built on the assumption that the law of the country where one or more relevant acts of infringement take place have a legitimate claim to regulate an infringement. However, T&D activities lack any real geographical touchdown. The servers and/or physical devices used can be relocated essentially anywhere and often are located in more than one country. Instead, it might be more fruitful to conceive of territoriality in terms of the effects of an infringement in a country. For instance, if a model is trained outside the EU with work that is protected by copyright in the EU and consequently marketed in the EU, the effects of the infringement are likely to be felt in the EU. Alternatively, one could also allow courts to determine the applicable law by putting relevant connecting factors in the balance, such as the infringer’s habitual residence and place of business, the location of infringing activities, or the place where damage was caused. For an example of such a balancing approach, see Article 3:603 of the Principles for Conflict of Laws in Intellectual Property (“CLIP Principles”).

If policymakers in the EU intend to address the forum shopping problem that is raised by the T&D of AI models, some new ideas are needed about the connecting factors used to determine which country’s copyright laws are applicable.

On 4 March 2025, Prof. Thomas Kadner-Graziano presented publicly on line the project of research and the achievements to date of the EAPIL’s Working Group on the Feasibility of a European Private International Law Act (to which I belong).

A few days earlier, the EAPIL blog had informed about an article of Prof. K. Boele-Woelki available on SSRN entitled The next step in the unification of private international law in Europe: should it be codification?, published in November last year. Further references can be found there to recent publications on the topic, such as Prof. C. González Beilfuss’s Reflexiones en torno a una eventual codificación del Derecho internacional privado europeo (Cuadernos de Derecho Transnacional, 2024). It can be claimed that, at least for the ‘invisible college’ of PIL scholars, the topic is recovering momentum.

The EAPIL project is the only ongoing attempt to draft a wide-ranging European Private International code (rather: act), understood as something different to a simple structured compilation of unchanged law.

Still, according to the Working Group’s name, the final goal of the project is not necessarily to produce a code (act). The key word is ‘feasibility’: the possibility that something can be made, done, or achieved, or is reasonable. In this regard, one could say that the Group follows the European Parliament resolution of 7 September 2010 on the implementation and review of Council Regulation (EC) No 44/2001 on jurisdiction and the recognition and enforcement of judgments in civil and commercial matters. There, the Parliament encouraged the Commission ‘to review the interrelationship between the different regulations addressing jurisdiction, enforcement and applicable law’; it considered that ‘the general aim should be a legal framework which is consistently structured and easily accessible’ and that ‘for this purpose, the terminology in all subject-matters and all the concepts and requirements for similar rules in all subject-matters should be unified and harmonised (e.g. lis pendens, jurisdiction clauses, etc.).’ Eventually, it posited that ‘the final aim might be a comprehensive codification of private international law’ (italics added).

It is indeed known that no proposal for a binding EU PIL code or act, even partial or restricted, will be put forward by the Commission any time soon.

The reason does not lie with it rejecting ‘codification’ as a law-making method. Codification, as well as consolidation and simplification of legislation figure expressly in the Political Guidelines for the next European Commission 2024-2029, of 18 July 2024. ‘Codes’ exist in other areas of EU law, such as those regulating medicinal products for human use, or the movement of persons across borders. In principle, this kind of codification appears to be related to amendments to the original legislative measure: after a number of amendments by way of new acts, the whole is assembled in a single document ‘in the interests of clarity and rationality’. The word ‘code’ is sometimes used, though, to designate the outcome of a recast of an act in need of amendment, as it happened with the Union customs code.

As things stand, coming up with a text like the one the EAPIL Working Group has in mind would prove that codification of European PIL is feasible. A second step to bring such a code or act into being would be to convince the legislator that it is not only convenient, but also needed and worth the effort and the investment. An impact analysis of non-economic and, above all, economic advantages would be required. Such analysis falls outside the remit of the EAPIL Working Group and , to the best of my knowledge, has not yet been done. Neither the study commissioned by the European Parliament ‘A European Framework for Private International Law: Current Gaps and Future Perspectives’ (2012) nor the workshop organized for the JURI committee ‘Towards a European Code on Private International Law? In -Depth Analysis for the Committee on Legal Affairs of the European Parliament’ (2014) addressed the point.

A report drawn up in 2013 by the European Added Value Unit of the Directorate for Impact Assessment and European Added Value, aimed at quantifying the cost of not having a Code on Private International Law. However, this ‘Cost of non-Europe’ report, based on a study by Nick Bozeat, mainly identified areas directly related to the citizens’ day-to-day lives which, at the time (and today), were still unregulated at European, in order to provide an estimation of the related costs for said citizens – around €138 million a year.

Assuming numbers confirmed that a codification of EU PIL is a sound policy option, there would be other obstacles to surmount for it to become a reality. The transactions and legal relationships falling under the scope of PIL rules are not a priority focus for the second half of this decade, neither at the political level nor for the lawmaker. Concern for cross-border civil and commercial matters, particularly those related to family, fits probably better with periods of calm and stability.

In theory, the time is ripe for a legislative proposal aimed at improving the regulatory environment for said matters. To start with, after the 2015 assessment on the implementation of the 2003 Inter-institutional Agreement on better law-making, new better regulation guidelines and a new Better regulation toolbox were respectively published in 2021 and 2023. Secondly, as already hinted, the Political Guidelines for the next European Commission 2024-2029, of 18 July 2024, proclaim the will to ‘make proposals to simplify, consolidate and codify legislation to eliminate any overlaps and contradictions while maintaining high standards’.

As a follow up, last February the Commission published its communication Simpler and Faster Europe. Communication on Implementation and Simplification. Indeed, the 2025 Commission work programme has a stronger focus on simplification than ever before. However, the Omnibus packages and the other simplification proposals listed (although non-exhaustively) in the above-mentioned Communication are meant to tackle specific priority areas, which, according to the Communication, have been identified with stakeholders over 2024.

None of them connects directly with the legal issues dealt with in the currently in force PIL regulations, or in the one(s) in the making. An indirect association is also far from evident. Only with good will, some PIL rules could be linked to the motto ‘Making business easier’ to which the quote of the Political Guidelines reproduced above corresponds.

Against this background, the task and findings of the EAPIL Working Group could be of a practical use in a different way. Code or no code, it is always legitimate to expect from the Commission, the EU Parliament and the Council that they care for consistency among the legal instruments they propose and adopt.

To this effect, formulae like (by way of example) recital 21 and Article 2, paragraph 3 of Directive 2020/1828 on representative actions for the protection of the collective interests of consumers, are clearly not enough. The interface between the Directive and the Brussels I bis regulation has been put to the test before the Court of Justice in case C-34/24, but the potential difficulties it generates do not stop there. In order to establish the exact terms of the relationship between both instruments it is necessary to consider as well the acts listed in Annex I to the Directive: while some of them express their intention to apply without prejudice to Regulation No 1215/2012, others indicate the opposite (see, for instance, recital 80 of Directive (EU) 2019/770 on certain aspects concerning contracts for the supply of digital content and digital services, and recital 147 of the GDPR).

More sophisticated solutions are viable and actually being implemented. An example is the proposed Directive to harmonise certain aspects of insolvency law. Said proposal, of 7 December 2022, aims to encourage cross border investment within the single market through targeted harmonisation of insolvency proceedings. It was published after stakeholders consultation, and is preceded by several studies, one of them (not publicly available, to the best of my knowledge) assessing abusive forum shopping practices in insolvency proceedings after Regulation (EU) 2015/848.

In principle, nothing new there. More interesting is the fact that the proposal and the impact assessment led to critical comments from the Regulatory Scrutiny Board, an independent body within the Commission that examines the quality of impact assessments, replacing the former Impact Assessment Board and being endowed with a strengthened role. The Board concluded in its first opinion on 24 June 2022 that adjustments were necessary before proceeding further with this initiative. Among other, more extensively explanations of the differences between Regulation (EU) 2015/848 and the Commission’s proposal were required.

In line with it, the Directive proposed by the Commission acknowledges the existence of Regulation (EU) 2015/848 on insolvency proceedings and connects both instruments (see recital 2, Articles 20, 45, 59, 68). It is therefore admitted that even if the Regulation has no impact on the contents of national insolvency law, it is a) possible to build on it for harmonization purposes and, b) clashes with the Directive may exist. The Partial general approach of the Council, dated November 29, 2024, insists on creating bridges  between the texts, and clarifies some of the links between them (see recital 2 , Article 2, Article 36, and, in particular, recutal 58 and Article 68).

Regulation (EU) 2015/848 is not the only EU legal act which the proposed Directive takes into account. The final product and how the ‘dialogue’ among instruments will fare in practice remain to be seen. In any case, the law-making process shows already a refined and cautious attitude in that it accords relevant weight to systemic coherence.

It is in this context that I see the added value of  a project such as the EAPIL one on the feasibility of a European PIL Act. Whatever its final conclusion (that is to say, even if it ends up denying the feasibility of the Act as such), it will map the areas where systemic coherence is more needed, indicate whether achieving it is or not possible, and if yes, how. Because of the wide material reach of the project and the thorougness of the research, it will fill an existing gap. It can thus provide precious support to the European lawmaker both in the drafting of new limited-in-scope PIL rules, and in producing an all-inclusive recast of the current ones, if and when, in his view, the time comes.

The author of this post is Lydia Lundstedt, who is an Associate Professor and Senior Lecturer at Stockholm University and Linköping University. In the interest of transparency, the author makes known that she previously wrote an expert legal opinion on behalf of BSH Hausgeräte.


On 25 February 2025, the Grand Chamber of the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU) rendered its long-awaited judgment in BSH Hausgeräte (C-339/22), on international jurisdiction over cross-border patent infringement disputes under Regulation (EU) No 1215/2012 (Brussels I bis). The CJEU ruled as follows.

First, a Member State court with jurisdiction under Article 4, based on the defendant’s domicile, over the infringement of a patent registered in another Member State, does not lose its jurisdiction when a defendant challenges the validity of that patent. In accordance with the clear wording of Article 24(4), however, that Member State court may not rule on the invalidity of that patent, “irrespective of whether the issue is raised by way of an action or as a defence”.

Second, a Member State court with jurisdiction under Article 4, based on the defendant’s domicile, over the infringement of a patent registered in a non-member State, may rule on the invalidity of that patent, when the issue is raised as a defence in an infringement action.

This judgment is a game-changer for the litigation of cross-border patent disputes in Europe because it allows right holders to consolidate all their claims in a single forum. In addition, the judgment may have implications beyond patent disputes. See here for a brief synopsis of the facts and the questions referred, here and here for a review of Advocate General (AG) Emiliou’s first and second opinions, and here for Pietro Franzina’s report on the judgment.

The Infringement Court does not Lose its Jurisdiction

The general rule in Article 4 gives jurisdiction to the courts of the Member State where the defendant is domiciled. The CJEU noted, however, that Article 4 is “subject to” exceptions, one of which is Article 24(4), which grants exclusive jurisdiction to the courts of the Member State for which a patent is granted, for proceedings involving its registration or validity. The CJEU stated that Article 24(4)’s wording is clear that it applies irrespective of whether registration or validity is raised as an independent action or as a defence in an infringement action. The CJEU reiterated therefore that a Member State court may not indirectly rule on the invalidity of that patent, but must declare that it does not have jurisdiction in accordance with Article 27. Recalling its judgment in GAT (C-4/03), the CJEU noted that Article 24(4) is justified by the fact that national authorities are involved in granting patents, and specialized courts (which often deal with patent cases) are best placed to adjudicate disputes about patent validity and registration.

That said, the CJEU clarified that a Member State court does not lose its jurisdiction over an infringement action, notwithstanding that “the examination of such an action does involve a thorough analysis of the scope of the protection conferred by that patent”. Recalling Duijnstee (288/82)  and IRnova (C 399/21), the CJEU explained that this is because Article 24(4) only covers validity and registration.

The CJEU stated that this interpretation followed from the scheme of the regulation because otherwise, the exception in Article 24(4) would eat up the general rule in Article 4 on the defendant’s domicile. Indeed, the defendant almost always challenges the validity of the patent in an infringement dispute. The CJEU explained that this also followed from the regulation’s objective of legal certainty because otherwise a defendant might, possibly at any stage of the proceedings, torpedo an infringement action by raising an invalidity defence. The CJEU explained further that this interpretation satisfied Article 24(4)’s objective of ensuring the exclusive jurisdiction of the courts of the Member State of registration, which are best placed to adjudicate validity issues, without going beyond what is necessary to achieve that objective. Lastly, the CJEU recognized that its interpretation meant that infringement and invalidity might be litigated in different Member State courts, and suggested that a Member State court seized of the infringement action could stay the proceedings if there was a reasonable, non-negligible possibility of that patent being declared invalid by the court of the Member State for which the patent was registered.

Article 24(4) on Exclusive Jurisdiction is not Directly or “Reflexively” Applicable

The CJEU held that it follows from the wording of Article 24(4) that it applies to Member States and, as conformed in IRnova, does not apply to non-member States. Indeed, the CJEU observed that the Brussels I bis Regulation “is a system of competence internal to the European Union which pursues objectives specific to it, such as the proper functioning of the internal market and the establishment of an area of freedom, security and justice.”

The CJEU recalled that the Brussels I bis Regulation applied when a legal relationship had an international element, and that this could be due to the subject matter of the proceedings being located in a third country. According to the CJEU, jurisdiction based on Article 4 encompassed infringements of third country patents as well as invalidity defences raised in the context of that infringement action.

However, the CJEU observed that Article 4’s jurisdiction could be limited by rules set out in the regulation that give effect to the EU and Member States’ treaty obligations (e.g. the 2007 Lugano Convention and agreements between a third State and a Member State concluded before the date of entry into force of Regulation (EC) No 44/2001). In addition, the CJEU noted that Articles 33 and 34 of the regulation permitted Member States to defer to the jurisdiction of the courts of third States under certain circumstances when the proceedings were lis pendens in a third State.

Beyond that, the CJEU held that international law, which is part of EU law, limited the rules in the Brussels I bis Regulation. Referring to Owusu, C 281/02, the CJEU recalled that it is not contrary to international law for a Member State court to adjudicate a dispute which has a connection to a third State, when jurisdiction is based on the defendant’s domicile. When exercising such jurisdiction, however, the CJEU held that a Member State court must observe the principle of non-interference. Consequently, the CJEU held that Member State court decisions must not affect the existence or the content of patents registered in third States, recalling that “the grant of a national patent is an exercise of national sovereignty.” However, the CJEU held that a Member State court may make an inter partes ruling on the validity of a patent granted in a third State when invalidity is raised as a defence in an infringement action, since such a ruling does not affect the existence or content of that patent.

A Game-changer for European Cross-border Patent Litigation  

This decision will likely make Europe an attractive forum for the litigation of cross-border patent disputes. Indeed, the judgment enables right holders to consolidate claims for the infringement of patents registered in all Member States before a single Member State court without risking that defendant will “torpedo” the action by a spurious invalidity defence. Granted, the infringement case may be stayed pending the outcome of a serious invalidity action brought in the courts of the Member State for which the patent is granted, but the infringement jurisdiction remains with the court of the defendant’s domicile, which leads to procedural economy.

De lega ferenda, the EU legislator might consider removing the language in Article 24(4) that codified GAT (i.e. “irrespective of whether the issue is raised by way of an action or as a defence.”), to allow Member State courts to make inter partes rulings on the validity of patents registered in other Member States.

As Advocate General Emiliou stated in his 22 February 2024 opinion, the “unfortunate [GAT] decision” goes beyond what is necessary to fulfil Article 24(4)’s objective of sovereignty. The language in Article 24(4) creates a paradox: a Member State court cannot rule on the validity of patents granted in other Member States, even though harmonization under the European Patent Convention (EPC), certain EU laws (e.g. the Biotech Directive 98/44/EC), and shared legal principles make them well-placed to do so. However, the same court can rule on the validity of patents from non-member States, where the lack of harmonization makes them less suited for such decisions.

Although BSH Hausgeräte concerned the third State, Türkiye, which, as a member of the EPC, has harmonized its patent law in accordance with the Convention, there is nothing in the judgment to suggest that it does not apply to third States in general, e.g. USA and China. That said, as more Member States become contracting parties to the Unified Patent Court Agreement (UPCA), the attractiveness of such an amendment to Article 24(4) declines. This is because the Unified Patent Court (UPC), as a court common to the contracting Member States, has jurisdiction to rule, with erga omnes effect, on the validity of patents registered in contracting Member States. Article 24(4) prohibits, however, the UPC from ruling on the validity of patents registered in Member States that are not contracting parties to the UPCA.

Another aspect of the judgment that makes patent litigation attractive in Europe is that the right holder can also consolidate infringement claims concerning patents registered in non-member States before the Member State courts where the defendant is domiciled, and that court can make an inter partes ruling on patent validity. In the recent ruling from the Düsseldorf Local division of the UPC in Fujifilm v Kodak (UPC_CFI_355/2023), the UPC avoided the question whether it had jurisdiction to adjudicate the revocation of a UK European patent, but confirmed its jurisdiction over the infringement action concerning this patent. Following BSH Hausgeräte, it is now clear that the UPC can adjudicate the validity of the UK patent in the context of the infringement action, but may not purport to invalidate or alter the content of the patent with erga omnes effect.

This jurisdiction can be limited pursuant to a treaty obligation. Indeed, Article 22(4) of the 2007 Lugano Convention, which is interpreted consistently with GAT, prevents the Member State courts and the UPC from making inter partes rulings on the invalidity of Swiss, Icelandic and Norwegian patents.

Although the subject matter jurisdiction of the UPC is limited to European (EPC) patents (Article 1 UPCA), the subject matter jurisdiction of national Member State courts covers also national patents, both national patents registered in Member States (e.g. a Swedish national patent) and in third States (e.g. USA and China). This means that the courts of the non-contracting Member States to the UPCA and the courts of the Member States during the transitional period (see Article 83 UPCA) might compete with the UPC. Compared to other important patent jurisdictions, such as the USA, which does not accept jurisdiction over foreign patent infringement disputes even when invalidity is not raised (see Voda, M.D. v Cordis Corp, 476 F. 3d 887 (Fed Cir 2007), the Member State courts’ jurisdiction is quite broad.

While the judgment refers to jurisdiction under Article 4, based on the defendant’s domicile, there does not seem to be any reason why the judgment would not also apply to jurisdiction based on Article 7(2) or Article 8(1). One can envision a situation where a defendant domiciled in a Member State commits a harmful act in another Member State, that gives rise to patent infringement in a third State, see Wintersteiger (C-523/10). One can also envision a situation where proceedings are brought against two companies, domiciled in different Member States, before a court of one of those Member States, for separately infringing the same national part of a European patent, see Solvay (C-616/10). There does not seem to be anything in international law that would limit the EU’s exercise of jurisdiction is such a scenario.

Implications Beyond Patent Disputes

Geert van Calster opines that the judgment’s reasoning likely extends to the other subject matters of exclusive jurisdiction in Article 24. I assume he means, for instance, that the fact that immovable property is located in a third State does not prevent a Member State court, with jurisdiction under Article 4, based on the defendant’s domicile, from making an inter partes ruling on title, in an action for damages for trespass. The same court however lacks jurisdiction to alter the title registration of immovable property located in a third State with in rem effect.

That said, it should be noted that Article 24(4) differs from Article 24(2) and perhaps the other rules in that article, as Article 24(4) does not allow a Member State court to make an inter partes ruling on validity for patents granted for other Member States. In contrast, a Member State court exercising jurisdiction on the basis of domicile, is not prevented under Article 24(2), from making an inter partes ruling on the validity, nullity or the dissolution of companies that have their seat in another Member State, or the validity of the decisions of their organs (see BVG (C-144/10)).

Looking ahead, a significant question is whether BSH Hausgeräte has broader implications for how the CJEU may be expected to rule on whether Member State courts may give effect, under national law, to third State choice of court agreements, when the Member State court has jurisdiction under Article 4. Following the CJEU’s reasoning in BSH Hausgeräte and its judgment in Coreck Maritime (C-387/98), Article 25 does not apply to choice of court agreements referring to the courts of third States.

Moreover, the CJEU indicated recently in Società Italiana Lastre (C-537/23) that such agreements were “contrary to the Brussels Ia Regulation” because they were inconsistent with regulation’s “objectives of foreseeability, transparency and legal certainty”. Thus, BSH Hausgeräte and Owusu might be understood to mean that Article 4 is mandatory unless another rule in the regulation (e.g. Articles 33–34 or Article 73) or a norm of international law limits this jurisdiction. Indeed, an argument can be made that the EU intentionally refuses to give effect to third State choice of court agreements outside of its treaty obligations, e.g. 2005 Hague Convention on Choice of Court Agreements.

That said, the situations involved in Articles 24 and 25 are not completely congruent as Article 25 raises the issue of party autonomy, which is arguably a fundamental right. Moreover, to require Member State courts to disregard third State choice of court agreements when they have jurisdiction on the basis of Article 4 would upset what has long assumed to be a question within the discretion of the Member States (see Arnaud Nuyts, Study on Residual Jurisdiction Review of the Member States’ Rules concerning the “Residual Jurisdiction” of their courts in Civil and Commercial Matters pursuant to the Brussels I and II Regulations (3 September 2007) para 96).

The answer to this question is reserved however for another day and another judgment by the CJEU.

The Court of First Instance of Mytilene (Greece) ruled on 16 May 2024 on an application filed by the mother of child against the child’s father. Acting on behalf of the child, the mother requested injunctive relief for child support (judgment No 161/2024, published in the Thessaloniki Bar Rewiew ‘Armenopoulos’ 2025, pp. 1497 et seq.) .

The parents were Greek nationals and residents of Switzerland. The defendant did not challenge the Court’s jurisdiction. The Court considered that jurisdiction ought to be assessed based on the Lugano Convention of 30 October 2007 on jurisdiction and the recognition and enforcement of judgments, which applies inter alia to maintenance obligations. Referring to Article 2 and Article 5(2) of the Convention, it held that, in the circumstances, the Convention did not confer jurisdiction on Greek courts, since neither the defendant nor the child were domiciled in Greece. The Court accordingly dismissed the claim on jurisdictional grounds.

One interesting aspect of the case lies in the mother’s choice to bring the application before Greek courts, despite the fact that all parties to the case reside in Switzerland. The preference in favor of Greek courts may stem from her attorney’s strategy, having regard to the fact that the parties were Greek nationals, the cost of litigation in Greece is lower than in Switzerland, and the order sought would have been directly enforceable in Greece (where the defendant likely owned some assets), whereas a Swiss judgments would have required exequatur (a step that the Lugano Convention did not abolish).

The Court’s Reliance on the Lugano Convention, rather than the EU Maintenance Regulation

As observed above, the Court of Mytilene considered that the case came with the purview of the Lugano Convention. It observed, in this regard, that the Convention does not include the Greek nationality of the parties among the grounds  on which the jurisdiction of the Greek courts may be asserted.

The Court further observed, in an obiter dictum, that Regulation (EU) No 4/2009 on maintenance obligations was not applicable in the circumstances. It relied for this on the fact that the parties had their residence in Switzerland, but also invoked Article 69 the Regulation, pursuant to which the latter “shall not affect the application of bilateral or multilateral conventions and agreements to which one or more Member States are party at the time of adoption of this Regulation and which concern matters governed by this Regulation”.

Comment

The conclusion reached by the Court of Mytilene on the applicability of the Lugano Convention is convincing. The reasoning behind the conclusion, however, is unpersuasive. Arguably, Article 69 of the Regulation is of no avail here. The appropriate avenue is rather that of Article 64 of the Lugano Convention, which the judgment fails to consider.

According to Article 64(1), the Lugano Convention “shall not affect the application by the Member States of the European Community of Council Regulation (EC) No 44/2001 on jurisdiction and the recognition and enforcement of judgments in civil and commercial matters and any subsequent amendments thereto, of the Convention on jurisdiction and the enforcement of judgments in civil and commercial matters (Brussels Convention), and of the Agreement between the European Community and the Kingdom of Denmark on jurisdiction and the recognition and enforcement of judgments in civil and commercial matters”. The reference to Regulation No 44/2001 (the Brussels I Regulation) must now be read, as regards child support and family maintenance, as a reference to the Maintenance Regulation, consistent with Article 68 of the latter Regulation.

Article 64(2)(2) of the Lugano Convention is decisive on the matter in question. It provides that the Convention, rather than the Regulation, applies, “in matters of jurisdiction, where the defendant is domiciled in the territory of a State to which this Convention applies [such as Switzerland], with the exception of the acts referred to in paragraph 1, or where Articles 22 or 23 of this Convention confer jurisdiction on the courts of such a State”.

The explanatory report of the Lugano Convention drawn up by Fausto Pocar observes (at para 20), that the latter provision should be understood to mean that the “the Lugano Convention applies in certain cases, either by the courts of a State bound by both the Brussels I Regulation [i.e., the Maintenance Regulation] and the Lugano Convention or by the courts of a State bound only by the Lugano Convention. In matters of jurisdiction, the Lugano Convention will always be applied by the courts of any State bound by the Convention, including the courts of States bound by the Brussels I Regulation [i.e., the Maintenance Regulation], if the defendant is domiciled in the territory of a State to which the Convention but not the Regulation applies. The same applies where jurisdiction is conferred on the courts of such a State under Article 22 or 23 of the Convention, because these are cases of exclusive jurisdiction which must always be respected”.

Put differently: if the parties were residents in Austria or any EU Member State, the Maintenance Regulation would have applied. But since it is not disputed that the parties are resident in Switzerland, then Article 64(2) of the Convention sets EU legislation aside and brings the Convention back into play.

Under the first hypothetical scenario (the residence of the defendant or the child in Austria) the Court would have applied the Maintenance Regulation, and would have asserted its jurisdiction over the matter in accordance with Article 5 of the Regulation, that is, based on the appearance of the defendant.

A Different View and Some Feedback

It is appropriate to mention a different opinion on the issue, whereby the Maintenance Regulation is applicable in a Member State whenever the remedy was brought in an EU Member State [Kostkiewicz, Eichenberger, “International maintenance law in legal relations between Switzerland and the EU”, Comparative Law Review, 2015, p. 13 et seq., at p. 20-22].

Finally, in the text of the Practical Guide on the application of Regulation (EC) No 4/2009 on maintenance obligations (2023), prepared by Professor Costanza Honorati, and in consultation with the European Judicial Network in civil and commercial matters, it is noted that no request for a preliminary reference has been made at present on the matter in question (pp. 17 et seq.).

This post has been written by Michiel Poesen, lecturer in private international law at the University of Aberdeen. The author asks the question whether the territorial scope of the European AI Act and the Revised Product Liability Directive are consistent. Both instruments are intended to work in tandem. While the former sets out the obligations that AI systems should meet to enter the EU market, the latter provides an ex post civil remedy to European citizens who suffer certain types of damage caused by AI systems. To truly function as complementary instruments, their respective territorial scopes should be consistent. This blogpost shows that they most likely are.


AI and Product Liability in the EU

The EU has been actively regulating Artificial Intelligence (“AI”) for well over half a decade. Heralded as the first comprehensive legal instrument addressing AI, the EU adopted the so-called AI Act (Regulation 2024/1689), which requires that AI systems meet certain standers before they are placed onto the European market. Subsequently, the EU adopted the Revised Product Liability Directive (“Revised PLD”), which harmonises certain aspects of the civil liability that developers and deployers of AI systems may incur if a system causes harm to property, bodily harm, or loss of data (Article 6(1) Revised PLD). Moreover, the EU adopted the General Product Safety Regulation (GPSR) in 2023, which also covers AI systems, and the Commission proposed the AI Liability Directive, the need for the which is currently under renewed scrutiny. As this post focuses on the complementarity of the AI Act and the Revised PLD, the GPSR and proposed AI Liability Directive will not be discussed any further.

The AI Act aims to create a level playing field and to protect European citizens and societal interests (Recital 1). The Revised PLD is meant to complement the AI Act by ensuring that European citizens have a civil cause of action to obtain redress for certain types of damage caused by defective AI and defective products incorporating AI:

… when AI systems – as defined under the draft regulation on artificial intelligence (AI act) currently under negotiation – do not meet the safety requirements set in the AI act, the revised PLD would apply if the defective product causes physical harm, property damage or data loss. (European Parliament Research Service, p 4; see similarly in the Commission Proposal for the Revised PLD, p 3)

The AI Act and Revised PLD therefore are intended to work in tandem, the former imposing ex ante standards with which an AI system should comply before being allowed onto the European market, and the latter providing an ex post civil remedy for certain types of harm.

The complementarity of the two instruments is reflected by the broadening of the PLD’s subject scope to software such as AI systems (Article 4(1) Revised PLD), the common definition of the notion of “AI system” (Recital 13 Revised PLD), and the presumption that a product is defective if it does not comply “with mandatory product safety requirements laid down in Union or national law that are intended to protect against the risk of the damage suffered by the injured person” such as the AI Act (Article 10(2)(a) Revised PLD).

For the AI Act and Revised PLD truly to work in tandem, their respective territorial scope of application should arguably also be consistent. In other words, harm caused by an AI system which falls within the territorial scope of the AI Act’s regulatory regime should also be covered by the territorial scope of the Revised PLD. Otherwise, harm caused by a failure to comply with the standards set out in the AI Act could be covered by applicable national liability law instead of the Revised PLD. This may lead to awkward situations, as national law might not be as well-equipped to deal with AI-related harm as the Revised PLD.

This issue is not relevant in intra-EU cases, where the damage, victim, and liable person (such as the distributor or deployer of a defective AI system) are all located within the EU: in such intra-EU cases it is safe to assume that the AI Act and Revised PLD (qua national law of the Member States) will apply. The matter becomes more complicated if the harmful AI system was placed onto the EU market by a provider (i.e. a developer) who is established in a Third Country (as will typically be the case). In such a constellation, the AI Act applies extraterritorially due to its broad extraterritorial reach which encompasses providers who place AI systems on the EU market or put them into service there, irrespective of their place of establishment (Art 2(1)(a) AI Act). In contrast to the AI Act, the Revised PLD – just like the old PLD – does not contain a provision on its territorial scope of application in international cases. Instead, the Revised PLD – or rather its national transposition by the Member States – is applicable if the general rules of EU Private International Law (PIL) refer to the law of a Member State.

The general rules of EU PIL that determine which country’s law is applicable to non-contractual obligations, such as product liability claims, can be found in the Rome II Regulation. The Regulation contains a framework of generic rules that apply to non-contractual obligations generally and specific rules for discrete types of obligations. Product liability is one such area for which the Union legislature adopted a specific rule in Article 5 of the Rome II Regulation.

Product Liability in EU Private International Law

Article 5(1), (a)-(c) Rome II contains a cascade rule to determine the law applicable to “non-contractual obligations arising out of product liability”. Priority is given to the law of the place where the person suffering damage has its habitual residence, provided the defective product was marketed there. Failing this, the law of the country where the defective product was purchased applies, provided the product was marketed there. Failing this, the law of the place where the damage occurred applies, provided that the defective product was marketed there. Article 5(1) further contains a foreseeability carveout: the applicable law shall be the law of the country in which the person claimed to be liable is habitually resident if they could not reasonably foresee the marketing of the product in the aforementioned countries.

Moreover, Article 5(2) Rome II provides for an escape clause: where it is clear from all the circumstances of the case that the product liability claim is manifestly more closely connected with a country other than that indicated in Article 5(1), the law of that country shall apply.

Finally, parties are free to choose another law than the law applicable by virtue of Article 5 Rome II, provided that this choice complies with Article 14 Rome II.

Despite containing a special rule for product liability, the Rome II Regulation does not define “product”. The initial Commission Proposal observed that “[for] the definition of product and defective product for the purposes of Article 4, Articles 2 and 6 of Directive 85/374 will apply” (Explanatory Report, p 13). This reference was not incorporated into final the Regulation. Despite the lack of a clear definition of product, the aforementioned quote from the Commission Proposal provides a strong systematic argument that Article 5 Rome II should apply to product liability claims concerning defective AI systems or consumer goods incorporating defective AI.

While, as mentioned above, the AI Act imposes the same standards on EU and third country AI providers, the civil remedies set out in the Revised PLD are only available where the law of a Member State applies as a result of the conflicts rule of Article 5 Rome II. Therefore, this begs the question: when will Article 5 Rome II refer to the law of a Member State, and hence their national transpositions of the Revised PLD, in product liability cases for damage caused by AI systems that are within the territorial scope of the AI Act?

Concurrent extraterritorial application of AI Act and Revised PLD

To determine whether Article 5 Rome II refers to the law of a Member State, and hence its national transposition of the Revised PLD, the fundamental question is whether an AI system was “marketed” in the EU. All connecting factors – the victim’s habitual residence, the place where the defective product was purchased, and the place of damage – in Article 5 Rome II are conditional upon the defective product having been marketed in the respective country where the connecting factor is located.

“Marketed” is not defined by the Rome II Regulation or the Explanatory Report. It is arguable that marketing does not require active efforts such as advertising or purposefully directing commercial activities towards a given country. Merely placing a product into the stream of commerce – either directly or through an intermediary – in a country should suffice. The purpose of Article 5 Rome II is to ensure that the applicable law is reasonably foreseeable to the liable person: the fact that a manufacturer or deployer put its product into the stream of commerce of a country ensures that Article 5 Rome II can operate in a way that achieves this aim.

It seems that Article 5(1) Rome II will point towards the Revised PLD when the AI Act is territorially applicable. Consider the example of a Third-country provider of an AI system that is designed to administer medicine based on a number of patient parameters it monitors, which is sold to hospitals in EU Member State Y. Such a product would be within the territorial scope of the AI Act by virtue of Article 2(1)(a) of the AI Act; it arguably also has been marketed in Member State Y for the purpose of Article 5(1) Rome II. If the AI system causes harm to a patient who is habitually resident in Member State Y, Article 5(1)(a) Rome II would refer to the law of Member State Y. In practice this would lead to the applicability of the national transposition of the Revised PLD in force in Y.

If arguendo the patient travelled to Y from Member State A to receive medical treatment in Y and suffered harm there, then Y’s transposition of the PLD would still apply by virtue of the alternative connecting factors in Article 5(1)(b) or (c) Rome II.

Conclusion

To conclude, Article 5 Rome II ensures that European citizens who suffer damage caused by an AI system placed on the market or put into service in the EU by a Third Country provider are able to seek redress under the Revised PLD. It therefore ensures consistency between the territorial scopes of the AI Act and the Revised PLD, unless parties opt for the law of a Third Country through a choice of law clause. This shows that EU private international law can fulfil a meta-regulatory function by effectively ensuring that the EU’s regulatory and remedial framework for AI is able to function in tandem. In so doing, EU private international law helps establish a level playing field for AI in the EU by ensuring that Third Country providers who place their AI system onto the EU market or put it into service here are subject to a coherent framework of regulation.

This post is authored by Antonio Leandro, Professor of Public and Private International Law at the University of Bari.


On 14 November 2024, the Court of Justice delivered its judgment in the Oilchart case (C-394/22 Oilchart International NV v O.W. Bunker (Netherlands) BV, ING Bank NV), which deals with the ‘insolvency exception’ provided in Article 1(2)(b) of the Brussels Ibis Regulation. The CJEU was asked by the Antwerp Court of Appeal to interpret that exception on the occasion of an action for the payment of a contractual claim that a creditor had brought in Belgium after filing for verification of the same claim within an insolvency proceeding opened in The Netherlands.

Factual Background

The facts have been described in detail by Manuel Penades Fons in its comment on the AG Medina’s opinion. However, they are worthy of a brief reminder.

Oilchart claimed before the Belgian courts the payment of outstanding invoices against OW Bunker, which had previously been declared insolvent in The Netherlands. Oilchart acted so to invoke a bank guarantee that was enforceable upon a declaratory judgment or an arbitral award rendered in Belgium against OW Bunker in relation to the payment of the invoices. The bank guarantee had been issued upon order from third parties (shipowners and P&I Clubs) to obtain the release of certain ships that Oilchart had managed to attach earlier on a precautionary basis. Oilchart had already submitted the same claim for verification within the Dutch insolvency proceedings.

Once seized of the payment action, the Antwerp Court of Appeal doubted whether the Belgian court had jurisdiction under the Brussels Ibis Regulation as the opening of the Dutch proceedings might have triggered the ‘insolvency exception’. The Belgian court deemed it necessary to ask the CJEU for clarifications.

Legal Background

The Olichart case has developed under Regulation (EC) no 1346/2000 on insolvency proceedings, which was silent on the jurisdiction over the so-called ‘insolvency-related actions’. The CJEU filled in this gap by relying upon the ‘insolvency exception’ of the Brussels I regime (as early as under the 1968 Brussels Convention, then the Brussels I and finally the Brussels Ibis Regulation) and has built up a massive case-law since the well-known Gourdain judgment rendered in 1979. The Court has consistently held that, in order to fall under the ‘insolvency exception’, the action must be ‘directly derived from’ and ‘closely linked with’ the insolvency proceedings; otherwise, the Brussels Ibis Regulation applies. That is what is usually referred to as Gourdain two-fold criterion. Particularly regarding the ‘direct derivation’, the Court maintains that the legal basis of the underlying claim is more important than the procedural context when it comes to triggering the ‘insolvency exception’.

Article 6 of Regulation (EU) 2015/848 (‘EIR’) basically replicates the Court’s findings in order to set out the scope of the vis attractiva concursus (see recently Leandro, ‘Article 6’, in Cuniberti and Leandro (eds), The European Insolvency Regulation and Implementing Legislations).

The Gourdain criterion also helps avoid ‘regulatory loopholes’ between the Brussels Ibis Regulation and Regulation (EC) 1346/2000 (now the EIR). In this respect, the Court has also steadily warned interpreters to apply restrictively the ‘insolvency exception’, as the Brussels Ibis Regulation ‘is intended to apply to all civil and commercial matters apart from certain well-defined matters’ (see, among others, Case C-213/10 F-Tex SIA v Lietuvos-Anglijos UAB ‘Jadecloud-Vilma’ ECLI:EU:C:2012:215, para 29). Accordingly,  Regulation (EC) 1346/2000 (and now the EIR) ‘should not be broadly interpreted’ (see, among others, Case C-157/13 Nickel & Goeldner Spedition GmbH v ‘Kintra’ UAB ECLI:EU:C:2014:2145, para 22).

The legal background of the admissibility and treatment of individual actions that creditors attempt to bring outside the insolvency proceedings after the opening is pretty simple: the lex concursus, i.e., the law of the State in which the insolvency proceedings have been opened, applies (Article 4(2)(f) of Regulation (EC) 1346/2000; now Article 7(2)(f) of the EIR).

The chance for Oilchart to bring parallel actions in relation to the same claim (one for the declaration before the Belgian courts in order to enforce the bank guarantee and the other for the verification before the Dutch insolvency courts) was allegedly based on Dutch law, which provides a distinction between verifiable and non-verifiable claims (Arts 25, 26 and 110 of the Dutch Faillissementswet).

The AG’s Opinion

In her opinion, AG Medina held that ‘when the debtor is declared insolvent and the action seeks the recovery of a claim which falls within the estate in the insolvency proceedings, the legal basis of that claim becomes a provision of the insolvency legislation of the lex concursus and that action must be characterized as an action which derives directly from insolvency proceedings’ (para 53). AG Medina regarded ‘the ‘legal basis’ test as a test by which the Court establishes whether the origin of the obligation falls within the insolvency estate’ (para 55).

She further came ‘to the conclusion that the Gourdain criteria should be interpreted in a way that takes into account the objective and raison d’être of the insolvency proceedings, namely the common pool problem and efficient asset-management. A narrow interpretation of those criteria leads to the possibility of circumvention by the creditor of the rules of insolvency proceedings, asset-grabbing and depletion of other creditors’ rights. That circumvention could take place due to the existence of multiple jurisdictions and the classification of the parallel action as a ‘civil and commercial’ action within the meaning of Article 1(1) of the Brussels Ibis Regulation’ (para 62).

AG Medina adopted a ‘result-oriented approach’ in reading the Gourdain test that might persuade in terms of purpose (to secure the exclusiveness of the jurisdiction that supervises the insolvency proceedings, the efficiency thereof, the integrity of the insolvency estate for the lodged creditors’ satisfaction and the collective nature of the proceedings), but is not consistent either with the CJEU’s case-law or, most importantly, the regime concerning the effects of the insolvency proceedings on individual actions.

The Court’s Ruling

Following the Gourdain criteria, the Court stresses that the action for payment for goods delivered brought before the Belgian courts against a company subject to insolvency proceedings abroad does not fall under the ‘insolvency exception’ of the Brussels Ibis Regulation, that is, it does not belong to the vis attractiva concursus. The action in question did not meet either the ‘direct derivation’ requirement  – the creditor was seeking an order based on contract law that is independent of the special rules governing insolvency proceedings – or the ‘closeness with the insolvency proceedings’ – the fact that the claim underlying the action is the same as that lodged in the insolvency proceedings for verification purposes is not sufficient for that action to show closeness with the proceedings (para 49).

The Court further clarifies that, in any case, it is for the lex concursus to determine the effects of the insolvency proceedings on individual actions and the underlying contractual obligation, as well as to govern the lodging, verification and admission of claims (para 57; the English version speaks of ‘individual creditors’, but it is evidently a translation mistake as the other versions refer to ‘individual actions’ – poursuites individuelles, azioni giudiziarie individuali, Rechtsverfolgungsmaßnahmen einzelner Gläubiger auswirkt). In this respect, the Court recalls that ‘both the question of admissibility of an individual action against an insolvent company and that of the treatment of such an action where there is a declaration of claim made in the insolvency estate are covered not by rules allocating jurisdiction but by conflict of laws rules for determining the applicable law’ (para 51). The relevant conflict of law rule was Article 4 of Regulation (EC) 1346/2000 (now Article 7 of the EIR), which calls courts to apply the lex concursus even where the parallel civil actions are brought in Member States other than that of the insolvency proceedings.

Comment

The issue at the core of the Oilchart case was whether a claim could be brought simultaneously ‘from the estate’ or ‘outside of the estate’ before courts of different Member States. This scenario undoubtedly risks undermining the efficiency of the insolvency proceedings and the interest of the general body of creditors (to which the creditor suing before the Belgian courts belonged); see AG Medina’s Opinion, para 51 ff.

Even qualifying the case as an example of parallel actions, neither Regulation (EC) 1346/2000 (and the EIR) nor the Brussels Ibis Regulation is of help to determine which one is entitled to go on. The first does not provide rules on parallel related proceedings (apart from governing coordination between main and secondary insolvency proceedings), and the rules laid down by the Brussels Ibis Regulation cannot apply due to the insolvency exception that covers one action. By-analogy applications have been firmly excluded by the CJEU (Oilchart, para 59, with further references).

However, upon closer inspection, the Dutch rules could not have triggered in the Oilchart case such parallel proceedings as those might warrant the AG Medina’s concerns. They do envisage the case of legal actions concerning rights or obligations belonging to the insolvency estate that are brought against the insolvent debtor, adding, however, that they have no legal force against the estate (Art 25(2) Dutch Faillissementswet). The situation of parallel actions concerning the same claim is quite different and not covered by those provisions.

Furthermore, any actions seeking the performance of an obligation from the estate are to be brought through verification (Arts 26 and 110 Dutch Faillissementswet). Moreover, even assuming that the civil foreign judgment gave entire or partial satisfaction to the creditor, the return-and-imputation rule of Article 20 of Regulation (EC) 1346/2000 (Article 23 of the EIR) would prevent that creditor from affecting the pari passu and obtaining further dividend to the detriment of other lodged creditors (see also Manuel Penades Fons).

What is more, the actions in the Oilchart case aimed at different purposes. On the one hand, the creditor applied for verification in the Dutch insolvency proceedings; on the other hand, it demanded a declaratory judgment as a preliminary step to enforce a bank guarantee against third parties. While the underlying claim was the same, the civil action could not impact on the estate. Actually, the major impact would be on the bank and the third parties ordering the guarantee; not by chance, the bank demanded that the guarantee be enforced after the closure of the Dutch insolvency proceedings.

In light of the foregoing, the Court’s ruling is nothing more than the natural outcome of applying a well-established case-law (that setting out the ‘insolvency exception’/vis attractiva) and self-evident rules (those contained in Article 4 of Regulation (EC) 1346/2000, now Article 7 of the EIR) to the circumstances of the Oilchart case.

After recalling that the lex concursus establishes whether and to what extent an individual action may be brought after the opening of the insolvency proceedings, and that the ‘action’s legal basis’ is paramount to establish the scope of the ‘insolvency exception’ in the Brussels Ibis Regulation, the CJEU’s message is quite clear. Should the seized court have jurisdiction pursuant to the ‘action’s legal basis’, it will apply the lex concursus to establish the action’s admissibility before deciding on its merit, possibly under another law. In that regard, it does not matter whether such court has jurisdiction under the Brussels Ibis Regulation or the vis attractiva concursus.

Concluding Remarks

If one wished the Court to replace the Gourdain criteria with a result-oriented approach or even with a far-reaching principle that places any action concerning the insolvency estate under the vis attractiva concursus, the Oilchart case was not the right occasion. Actually, no occasion seems suitable as long as the legal framework stands as it does.

The EU legislator might consider inserting a uniform definition of ‘action which derives directly from the insolvency proceedings and is closely linked with them’, in order for the vis attractiva in the EIR and the ‘insolvency exception’ in the Brussels Ibis Regulation to work independently of the ‘action’s legal basis’. However, that is another story, to tell during the next EIR’s recast with a balanced look at insolvency and private international law policies.

On the other hand, the competence of the lex concursus to verify the admissibility of individual actions after the opening of an insolvency proceeding by no means risks being undermined, even in future recasts. The EIR is essentially a private international law instrument. Prohibitions or permissions to bring individual actions are or could be subject to shared rules depending on the extent and depth of the EU harmonisation process in the area of restructuring and insolvency law.

Finally, it is worth recalling that, except for enforcement procedures, the treatment of lawsuits and arbitrations commenced before the opening of the insolvency proceedings is different. In such cases, the effects of the insolvency proceedings are subject to the law of the Member State in which the lawsuit is pending or in which the arbitral tribunal has its seat insofar as the lawsuit or the arbitration concerns an asset or a right which forms part of a debtor’s insolvency estate (Article 18 of the EIR). However, that is another story, too.

This post was contributed by Fabien Marchadier, who is a professor of private international law at the University of Poitiers.


Le Monde - BabelioOn 4 October 2024, the Court of Justice of the European Union delivered its judgment in Case C-633/22 Real Madrid Club de Fútbol v. Société éditrice Le Monde. The judgment explores the relationship between the public policy exception in the Brussels instrument and the freedom of the press as enshrined in Article 11 of the Charter of Fundamental Rights.

Background of the Case

Considering that an article published in the newspaper Le Monde and widely reported in Spain had damaged their reputation, Real Madrid and a member of its medical team sought compensation from Spanish courts. The Spanish courts upheld their claim and handed down a heavy sentence against Le Monde and the journalist who wrote the disputed article, claiming that the football clubs Real Madrid and Fútbol Club Barcelona had retained the services of the head of a doping ring in the cycling world. The principal amount of damages was 330,000 euros (300,000 for the club and 30,000 for its employee).

Despite Le Monde published a letter of denial it had received from Real Madrid (but without any comment on it), the claimants sought the enforcement of the Spanish decision in France. In accordance with the Brussels I Regulation (no 44/2001), in force at the relevant time, they obtained two declarations of enforceability from a first instance court in Paris. The defendant lodged an appeal. The Cour d’appel of Paris overturned those declarations on the ground that that judgment was manifestly contrary to French international public policy and could not be enforced in France. This issue was that the penalties had, in the circumstances of the case, a deterrent effect on the involvement of the defendants in the main proceedings in the public discussion of matters of public interest such as to curtail the media’s ability to perform its information and monitoring role.

10 New Images Of Real Madrid Logo FULL HD 1080p For PC Background 2024Real Madrid and Mr AE seized the French Court of cassation which decided to stay proceedings and to refer to the Court of Justice for a preliminary ruling. In essence, the French Court of cassation asked to the CJEU “whether and, if so, in what circumstances, the enforcement of a judgment ordering a newspaper publishing house and one of its journalists to pay damages by way of compensation for non-material damage suffered by a sports club and one of the members of its medical team for harm to their reputation caused by the publication of information about them must be refused, on the combined basis of Article 34(1) and Article 45 of Regulation No 44/2001, on the ground that it is liable to give rise to a manifest breach of the freedom of the press as enshrined in Article 11 of the Charter and, therefore, a manifest breach of public policy in the Member State in which enforcement is sought” (pt 28).

Judgment

The Court of Justice points out that the system for the circulation of judgments in Europe is based on a subtle balance between mutual trust and respect for fundamental rights. The public policy clause (art. 45, § 1, a reg. n° 1215/2012 and 34, § 1 reg. n° 44/2001) is a fundamental part of this balance. Refusing or revoking a declaration of enforceability of a judgment requires to demonstrate that such recognition is manifestly contrary to public policy in the Member State in which recognition is sought. This outcome should remain exceptional because it runs counter the main goals of the regulation.

The Court of justice states that the decision is not recognized if it infringes a fundamental principle of the state. To ensure that the prohibition of any review of the substance of a judgment of another Member State is observed, the infringement would have to constitute a manifest breach of a rule of law regarded as essential in the legal order of the Member State in which enforcement is sought or of a right recognised as being fundamental within that legal order (pt 37), including a rule of law regarded as essential in the EU legal order or of a right recognised as being fundamental within that legal order (pt 39). These fundamental rights are those recognised in the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the European Union, since the application of Regulation No 44/2001 by a national court constitutes an implementation of EU law within the meaning of Article 51(1) of the Charter (pt 41).

In accordance with the Charter, the right to freedom of expression enshrined in Article 11 will have the same meaning and scope as Article 10 of the European Convention on Human Rights (for details, see paragraphs 45-65). In the context of the recognition and enforcement of judgments, it requires the court of the requested State to ascertain whether the damages awarded in those judgments are manifestly disproportionate to the reputational harm in question and thus risk having a deterrent effect on future media coverage of similar matters in the Member State in which enforcement is sought or, more generally, on the exercise of the freedom of the press. To this end, it could be taken into account “all of the circumstances of the case, including not only the resources of the persons against whom judgment is given but also the seriousness of their wrong and the extent of the harm as found in the judgments at issue in the main proceedings” (pt 68).

However, the judge of the State in which enforcement is sought does not have to call into question the assessment of the conduct of Le Monde and its journalist by the court which handed down the decision. Nor should it reassess the reality and extent of the damage. In this respect, any discrepancy between those amounts and the amount of damages awarded in those judgments is not in itself sufficient (pt 70).

To conclude, the Court pointed out that “should it find that there is a manifest breach of the freedom of the press, that court should limit the refusal to enforce those judgments to the manifestly disproportionate portion, in the Member State in which enforcement is sought, of the damages awarded” (pt 73).

Assessment

The Court of Justice of the European Union confirms the ever-increasing influence of European law on the definition and implementation of the public policy exception (on the origins of this influence, see ECJ, 28 March 2000, C-7/98, Dieter Krombach v André Bamberski and ECJ, 11 May 2000, C-38/98, Régie nationale des usines Renault SA v Maxicar SpA and Orazio Formento). Its limits are beyond the control of individual States. The combined influence of European Union law and European human rights law, which the Court of Justice is relaying through the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the European Union (pts 45 et seq.), excludes certain principles that are nonetheless deemed essential by States (see, for example, ECHR, 3 May 2011, no. 56759/08 Négrépontis-Giannisis v Greece). Conversely, States have an obligation to incorporate the essential rights of the EU legal order and fundamental rights into their fundamental values. The freedom traditionally granted to States to determine, ‘in accordance with their national laws and practices, the requirements of their public policy’ (point 35) is therefore subject to review by the Court of Justice. The paragraph in point 35, constantly repeated since the Krombach case (cited above), has become a ‘clause de style’. Contrary to its assertions, the CJEU does not simply ‘review the limits’ within which public policy may impede the free movement of decisions in Europe. It defines, at least in part, the content of the concept. A ‘rule of law regarded as essential in the EU legal order’ or ‘a right recognised as being fundamental within that legal order’ is just as essential and just as fundamental in the legal order of the Member States, it points out (pt 39 – see also the conclusions of the AG at pt 189).

However, in the present case, the content of international public policy did not raise any particular difficulties. The right to freedom of expression is obviously capable of justifying a refusal to recognise a foreign decision (see ECHR, dec. no. 48198/99, 15 Jan 2004, Lindberg v Sweden). The Spanish decisions unquestionably interfered with the exercise of this right. However, was this interference proportionate? Above all, how is proportionality to be assessed in the context of judicial cooperation in civil matters which is based on the principle of mutual trust ? Each Member State is presumed to respect fundamental rights (in accordance with Opinion 2/13 – CJEU, Ass. pl., 18 Dec. 2014, Accession of the Union to the ECHR – recalled in paragraph 42). If the allegation of a breach of fundamental rights has not been raised before the court of origin, it cannot normally be examined by the court of the State addressed (rappr. CJEU, 16 Jul 2015, Diageo Brands BV, C-681/13, pt 64). If it has been examined, the prohibition on substantive review prevents it from being re-examined by the court of the requested State.

The Court of Justice provides a vade mecum designed to avert this risk, reiterating its precedents, which are nevertheless far from fully convincing. The manifest nature of the breach would reconcile all the opposites (pt 37). Yet there is little difference between review of the merits and of the existence of a manifest breach. The review may vary in intensity, but it does not change in nature. Manifest breach breaks the trust that supports the whole cathedral. It justifies, exceptionally and by way of derogation, the restoration of a control normally neutralised by mutual trust. It plays the role, in EU litigation, of the ‘manifest deficiency’ criterion used by the European Court of Human Rights to determine whether an EU Member State was obliged, under Article 6 of the ECHR, to review the decision of another Member State and deny it any legal effect (see ECHR, Grand Chamber, 20 May 2016, no. 17502/07, Avotins v Latvia, § 116).

A mere violation of fundamental rights does not therefore justify refusal of recognition. It must be manifest. If the court of origin gave its decision without having weighed up the interests of each of the parties (right to reputation protected by Article 8, on the one hand, and right to freedom of expression protected by Article 10, on the other), a finding of manifest infringement is conceivable (if only for having ignored the fundamental rights of one of the parties), without carrying out a review of the merits, since the review carried out by the court addressed has not, in this case, been undertaken by the court of origin. On the other hand, if this review has already taken place, the very idea of a manifest breach is more difficult to accept (see CJEU, 16 July 2015, Diageo Brands, C-681/13, pt 64), especially if it took place in compliance with the criteria established by the case law of the European Court of Human Rights for arbitrating between two competing private interests (on these criteria, see ECHR, gde ch, 7 Feb. 2012, no. 40660/08, Von Hannover (no. 2), § 107), which appears to be the case in this case (see the Opinion of Advocate General Szpunar delivered on 8 Feb. 2024, pp. 68 and 120). It should then be considered, as the Advocate General did (pt. 131), that the interests in the balance before the court addressed are different. While the defendant’s interest remains the same, that of freedom of expression, the plaintiff’s interest is no longer limited to respect for his reputation. The right to enforcement of the decision complements it (more than it replaces it, however, so that the review by the court addressed would essentially be the same as that by the court of origin…).

In this case, a violation of freedom of expression is more than likely. Given the case law of the European Court of Human Rights, which is quoted at length to clarify the meaning and scope of Article 11 of the Charter of Fundamental Rights (pts 45 et seq.), freedom of the press is still highly valued today, even though the Strasbourg Court is increasingly reminding journalists of their duties and responsibilities. The article in question contributed to a debate of general interest (the issue of doping in sport) and Real Madrid had the opportunity to publish a denial. In this context, any sanction, however small, creates a chilling effect that the Strasbourg Court will not tolerate. But did the Spanish judgments clearly infringe freedom of expression? The answer to this question remains uncertain. However, it is crucial because it determines the very principle of applying the public policy exception. If it is not manifest, the infringement does not constitute grounds for non-recognition. The decision will be recognised. The requested State would not incur any liability before the European Court of Human Rights (see Avotins judgment, supra). Only the State of origin is exposed. If, following the finding of a violation, the proceedings are not reopened, enforcement of the decision in the requested State will never be called into question. Compensation for the damage suffered by the victim of the infringement of Article 10 (in this case the journalist and Le Monde) could then be limited to just satisfaction, which may be awarded by the Strasbourg Court (which will not happen in this case, as the European Court of Human Rights has declared the application against Spain inadmissible).

The final conclusion of the Court of Justice will undoubtedly remain the most controversial point of the judgment. Traditionally, when a foreign decision appears to be internationally irregular (because a ground for non recognition is constituted), it produces no effect in the forum. The outcome of the review by the court addressed is binary. Either the decision is recognised or it is not. In the latter case, the beneficiary of the judgment has no option but to bring an action on the merits (if it is still admissible …) before the courts of the State addressed. The partial effectiveness of the foreign decision is only conceivable if the operative part comprises several heads that are sufficiently independent from each other to be treated differently (for example, in this case, the conviction of the journalist on the one hand and that of the newspaper publishing company on the other). On the other hand, the court addressed does not have the power to modify the operative part of the foreign decision submitted to it for review. If the court adds to it, deletes from it or modifies it, the court is interfering in the foreign judicial process and would be carrying out a prohibited review. This prohibition is all the more important in relations between the Member States of the European Union, which are dominated by the principle of mutual trust. If the court addressed finds a clear breach of the right to freedom of expression and, consequently, a clear conflict between the foreign decision and public policy, it should refuse to give effect to it. Curiously, the Court of Justice invites that court to ‘limit the refusal to enforce those judgments to the manifestly disproportionate portion, in the Member State in which enforcement is sought, of the damages awarded’ (pt. 73). Achieving the objective of free movement of judgments is not definitively compromised. Other avenues are conceivable. It would therefore be sufficient for the court addressed to erase the excesses of the foreign decision for it to be recognised. In other words, even if certain findings by the court of origin are required (for example, the seriousness of the fault, the reality and extent of the damage), the Court of Justice authorises the court of the State addressed to reassess the operative part of the foreign decision and, if necessary, rewrite it. This is not a completely new idea. It was suggested by G.A.L. Droz (Variations Pordea. De l’accès au juge entravé par les frais de justice. À propos de l’arrêt de la Cour de cassation,1er Chambre civile, du 16 mars 1999, RCDIP 2000. 181). The departure from the prohibition on revision is pragmatic. It makes it possible to reconcile objectives that, in this case, conflict with each other. It is better to modify the amount of the fine imposed abroad and make the foreign judgment acceptable than to simply deny it any effect in France at all. The practical implementation of this directive is no less difficult to conceive with regard to financial penalties. It is obviously possible to assess whether they are proportionate or disproportionate by reference to various factors (in particular, the resources of the persons sentenced, the seriousness of their fault, the extent of the damage – point 68). Measuring disproportionality is a much more difficult exercise, especially if the court addressed considers that the disproportionality arises from the very principle of the sentence without departing from the findings of the court of origin. In this case, should the foreign decision not be deprived of all effect? Is it conceivable that the court addressed could order another form of remedy that would be more appropriate, for example, publication of a right of reply or of the judgment?

The European influence is therefore not only leading to an enrichment (at least quantitative) of public policy. It alters foreign judgments law by undermining, to a certain extent, the principle of mutual trust and the prohibition of review on the merits.

A Convention on the issue of certificates of matrimonial capacity and capacity to enter into a registered partnership was adopted on 13 September 2024 under the International Commission on Civil Status (ICCS). This is in fact the 35th instrument elaborated in the framework of ICCS.

As explained by its Explanatory Report, the Convention builds on Convention (No.20) on the issue of a certificate of legal capacity to marry, signed in Munich on 5 September 1980. As a continuum of the Munich Convention, it aims to facilitate the proof that persons wishing to enter into a (marital or partnership) union abroad fulfil the conditions for doing so.

The text is now open to signature and has already been signed by Switzerland.

I interviewed the Secretary General of the ICCS, Nicolas Nord, to find out more about this new Convention, its ratio legis, its main provisions and the ICCS’s ambitions in this context.

What is the central purpose of Convention No. 35? And more specifically, what is the legal methodology adopted for the circulation of the matrimonial and registered partnership certificates?

Convention No. 20 dates back to 1980. It is of course no longer adapted to today’s realities. That is why it seemed relevant to adopt a more modern text tailored to contemporary needs. There are several key new features.

First, the material scope of the certificates has been extended. Not only certificates of matrimonial capacity but also certificates of capacity to enter into a registered partnership, an institution that did not exist at the time of the adoption of the Munich Convention, may be issued on the basis of this text. Certificates can also be issued for same-sex marriages. Moreover, the application of Convention No. 35 is extended to foreigners residing on the territory of the States Parties and is no longer restricted to nationals only.

Second, as regards the methodology, Contracting States shall issue the certificate based on the ICCS models (see Appendix 1 to this Convention, Forms 1A, 1B, 2A, 2B). These models contain standard entries that must be completed with codes numbers (see Appendix 2) according to the personal situation in question. Then, the certificates shall be accepted without legalisation or equivalent formality in each of the Contracting States (Art. 6). This provision is obviously very favourable to the cross-border circulation of personal status. However, some possible ways of control by Receiving States have been introduced.

How does Convention No. 35 deal with cultural differences between States in an area as sensitive as the regulation of forms of unions? The legal conditions governing the union of couples vary strongly worldwide; same-sex marriage and registered partnerships are only allowed in some jurisdictions.

There were indeed many discussions because of the different conceptions between States regarding marriage and registered partnership. As always, the ICCS’ objective is to enable harmonious cohabitation, without intervening in the substance of the law. The Convention therefore has a general vocation, but States may make reservations. In particular, they may decide not to apply the text to marriages between persons of the same sex or to registered partnerships in general or to one or more of their forms.

Likewise, the above-mentioned ICCS models are the result of compromises. This is the case, for example, when it comes to specifying a person’s gender. For people who do not recognise themselves as either male or female, the X symbol may be used.

How should Convention No. 35 interplay and/or be articulated with the Hague Conventions on the circulation of public documents and the EU Regulation on public documents? 

Certificates issued on the basis of Convention No. 35 are exempt from legalisation and all similar formalities. They do not therefore have to be apostilled, which facilitates their circulation. As regards, the Public Documents Regulation, it provides for a form of coexistence with ICCS instruments, without any real interaction. On the one hand, the Regulation allows other international cooperation frameworks to apply, enabling the circulation of public documents, such as the ICCS Conventions. Secondly, the issue addressed by the new Convention is not covered by the Regulation in the same way. Here, the Convention goes beyond mere acceptance of a public document to create a probative value for certificates. This means that Convention No. 35 could be applied in relations between Member States of the European Union.

The number of States that are members of the ICCS has decreased in recent years. Which States took part in the negotiation of Convention No. 35, and which States might join it in the future? 

A large number of States, well beyond the ICCS members, have been involved in the working group. More than twenty of them took part in the various meetings. The ICCS’s partners also contributed to the drafting of the Convention (i.e. European Commission, Council of Europe, Hague Conference on Private International Law).

Professional organisations were also involved, enabling us to benefit from the expertise of practitioners who will be using the text in the future (Association du Notariat francophone, EVS – European Association of Registars). Finally, the European Law Institute has also actively contributed to our work.

Eleven States are currently bound by Convention No. 20. It would seem logical for them to accede to the new convention. More generally, the solutions currently used in some States are unsatisfactory, as a “certificate of custom” (certificats de coutume) is required from the persons concerned by the future union. It is often difficult for them to obtain it and the cost can be high. Moreover, such a document provides no real guarantee. Using Convention No. 35 and the forms it creates would be easier and more effective.

I would like to thank Nicolas for the very interesting light he has shed on this new legal achievement of ICCS and wish success to Convention No. 35. It sends a strong signal to the international community about the need to continue working together, in a highly operational way, to facilitate the international movement of couples. It is a “helping hand” to States and regional organisations such as the European Union in favour of the permanence of personal status.

This post was written by Etienne Farnoux, who is Professor of Private Law at the University of Strasbourg. It is the third contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the UK Supreme Court Judgment in UniCredit Bank GmbH v RusChemAlliance LLC [2024] UKSC 30. The previous contributions, by Manuel Penades and Faidon Varesis can be found here and here, respectively. Readers are encouraged to participate in the discussion by commenting on the posts.


This brief commentary focuses on the discussion, in the UKSC UniCredit decision, of several points of French law revolving around the issue of whether French courts could be regarded as an available forum to issue an anti-suit injunction (for a broader presentation of the case, see the previous post by U. Grusic, and the other contributions to this online symposium ; see also, in French and before the UKSC decision, V. Carriou, C. Debourg, A. Lauvaux, Rev. arb., 2024. 285). This discussion arises as part of the more general issue of the ‘proper place’ to order an ASI, with regards to an arbitration with a foreign seat (here in France).

1. The Limited Scope of Supervisory Jurisdiction

When the arbitration agreement is governed by English law, the Supreme Court relies on ‘a presumption which treats the courts of England and Wales as the proper place in which to bring the claim for an anti-suit injunction unless the fact that the arbitration has a foreign seat makes it inappropriate to do so’ [93]. In response to a party’s allegation that the proper place was France, the Supreme Court points out that while ‘the courts of the place where an arbitration has its seat have the sole responsibility for supervising the arbitration and the primary responsibility for supporting the arbitration process […,] the power to grant such relief is not an aspect of either the supervisory or the supporting jurisdiction of the English court’ [96]. Since ‘no arbitration proceedings have been commenced or proposed’ [98], the supervisory responsibility of the courts of the seat of arbitration is not at stake. The mere fact that ‘in relation to any arbitration which may in future be brought, the parties have chosen to be subject to the supervisory jurisdiction of the French courts is not itself a reason why an English court cannot or should not uphold the parties’ bargain by restraining a breach of the arbitration agreement’ [100].

According to the Supreme Court, the only circumstance, at least in the present case, which would point to the contrary would be ‘where the exercise by the English court of its power to grant an anti-suit injunction would or might produce a clash with any exercise of jurisdiction by the French courts so as to give rise to any issue of comity’ [101]. This would not be the case here as the UKSC finds ‘no possibility that the French courts could be seized of the matter’ [101] for two reasons. First, ‘French courts have no power to grant anti-suit injunctions’ [101]. Second, ‘French courts would not have jurisdiction to determine a claim of any kind brought by UniCredit complaining of a breach by RusChem of the arbitration agreements’ [101].

2. Is it Really Impossible for French Courts to Grant an ASI?

The first point was not contested in Unicredit, and statements can be found to the same effect in the Commerzbank and Deutsche Bank cases. For instance, it was not disputed in the EWCA Deutsche Bank case that ‘French law does not have the ability to grant an ASI as part of its procedural toolkit’ [40]. This description of French positive law is certainly backed by extensive authority. While French law knows no shortage of procedural tools to overcome a party’s resistance to arbitration proceedings (negative effect of the competence-competence principle, for instance, or refusal to recognize a foreign judgment setting aside an arbitration clause), the view is generally held that enforcement of the arbitration agreement will usually not be achieved through injunctive relief and there is indeed no French law provision regarding ASIs, or a close equivalent. That said, there is no provision prohibiting French courts from granting an ASI either and the Cour de cassation has in past shown a willingness to issue something akin to an antisuit injunction in the context of international insolvency (Cour de cassation, première chambre civile, 19 November 2002, Banque Worms, n°00-22.334).

This shows the absence of philosophical opposition of French law to the institution and the mere fact that this solution has not yet been extended to arbitration and the protection of an arbitration clause does not mean that it will never be. For one thing, there seems to be growing support for such an extension from both practitioners and academics. Plus, in the past, the Cour de cassation has agreed to grant recognition to an American ASI protecting the jurisdiction of a foreign court designated by a forum selection agreement against proceedings brought before French courts themselves (Cour de cassation, première chambre civile, 14 October 2009, In Zone Brands, n° 08-16.369 and 08-16.549). Surely, recognizing a foreign ASI (even one targeting French proceedings) and issuing one are two different things, but one of the arguments justifying the solution in this last case according to the Cour de cassation was that the injunction aimed at ‘ensuring compliance with the agreement conferring jurisdiction entered into by the parties’.

One does not really see why French courts should refuse to lend their support directly to such a legitimate goal and thus enforce what should be the principal solution under French law, which is specific performance. This would of course be limited to ASIs directed against proceedings in non-EU States, as long as the Court of Justice sticks to its infamous West Tankers solution. Having come nonetheless to the conclusion that ASIs were unavailable in France, the UKSC could have stopped there as the position of English courts as the proper court seemed sufficiently justified (see for instance EWCA Deutsche Bank, [40]), but it did not.

3. The Convoluted Rules on Jurisdiction of French Courts to Order Interim Relief

It is indeed the second point that is developed by the Supreme court: ‘the fact that an arbitration has a French seat does not, of itself, confer jurisdiction on any French court to order interim relief’ [102]. Without getting too much into the weeds here, the French rules on the international jurisdiction of courts to order interim relief in the context of arbitration are somewhat circumvoluted.

The starting point is that Article 1449 of the Code de procédure civile empowers French courts to grant interim relief even if an arbitration agreement ‘exists’ but without laying out the rules regarding international jurisdiction. French academia, by and large, holds the view, reflected in the Unicredit decision, that when establishing international jurisdiction under Article 1449 of the Code de procédure civile, absent explicit rules of international jurisdiction, French courts are prompted to fall back on the by default international extension of the rules regulating territorial jurisdiction (or venue). In this system, the seat of the arbitral tribunal is insufficient to justify the jurisdiction of French courts to grant interim relief (and no ordinary rule would grant jurisdiction to French courts in the configuration of the case).

While that position can claim some support in the case law, it should also be said that the principle of international extension of the territorial rules of jurisdiction has never been construed as a hard and fast rule. The Cour de cassation is acutely aware of the essential difference between territorial and international jurisdiction and regularly underlines that in some cases the principle requires adaptation to account for the particularities of international relations. It would not be immensely surprising if, when considering international jurisdiction regarding interim relief, the Court considered giving a role as a connecting factor to the seat of the arbitral tribunal.

This in turn leads to a question: would such an adaptation be called for? The answer might depend on the type of interim relief sought. If an equivalent to an ASI were available in French law, it would seem strange not to grant international jurisdiction accordingly to French courts when the seat of the arbitral tribunal is in France. Several arguments point in that direction. First, the comparison with English law shows that the seat of arbitration in England certainly justifies jurisdiction to grant an anti-suit injunction. Second, the rules regarding the international jurisdiction of French courts acting as the supporting authority for arbitration may seem to be more adequate than the by default extension of territorial jurisdiction rules.

The jurisdiction of French courts as supporting authority, or ‘juge d’appui’, is provided for at Article 1505 of the Code de procédure civile. It includes a list of four alternative connecting factors: the seat of arbitration is in France; the parties have agreed on French procedural law to apply to arbitration proceedings; the parties have expressly agreed on the jurisdiction of French courts to rule on disputes relating to the arbitral proceeding; the parties are exposed to the risk of denial of justice. At least the first connecting factor would have granted jurisdiction to French courts in the present case.

The reason why these more adequate heads of jurisdiction are usually not discussed in the context of ASIs is because of the assumption that such a measure (if it were available) would be outside of the natural role of French courts acting as supervisory authority. Such a conclusion might not be unavoidable. Admittedly, the role of the juge d’appui is traditionally limited to difficulties in the constitution of the arbitral tribunal, but granting an ASI does contribute to giving full effect to the parties’ agreement to arbitrate while a torpedo action certainly endangers its efficiency. Even if such an injunction fell outside of the limited powers of the juge d’appui and was to be granted under Article 1449 of the code de procedure civile, the seat of the arbitral tribunal would undeniably constitute a more appropriate connecting factor than the mere extension of the rules of territorial jurisdiction.

4. A Cooperative Conception of the Supervisory Authority

Finally, it is convincing that, as concluded by the Supreme Court, ‘even if the French courts were an available forum, there is no reason which can be said to make it inappropriate for an English court to restrain a breach of the arbitration agreements by granting an injunction’ [104]. French law does not have an exclusive conception of the role of the supporting authority but one aimed at the success of the arbitral proceeding, and the enforcement of the commitment to arbitrate taken by the parties. This is illustrated, for instance, by the favorable treatment a foreign ASI protecting an arbitration agreement would likely receive in the French legal system, following the In zone Brands case. It also derives from the delimitation of the jurisdiction of the juge d’appui. The role of French courts acting as supporting authority is not limited to arbitral tribunals with a seat in France. Particularly the last item on the list (the risk of a denial of arbitral justice, see for instance Cour de cassation, première chambre civile, 1 February 2005, NIOC, n° 01-13.742 and 02-15.237), shows that the point is to allow arbitration to proceed rather than focusing exclusively on the location of the seat.

This post was written by Faidon Varesis, who is Assistant Professor in Private International Law and International Dispute Resolution at the University of Cambridge and a Fellow of St John’s College. It is the second contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the UK Supreme Court Judgment in UniCredit Bank GmbH v RusChemAlliance LLC [2024] UKSC 30. The other contributions, by Manuel Penades and Etienne Farnoux can be found here and here, respectively.  Readers are encouraged to participate in the discussion by commenting on the posts.


In UniCredit v RusChemAlliance, the UK Supreme Court (the Court) positioned itself as a global enforcer of arbitration agreements governed by English law. The facts of the case, including the issue of applicable law, are well-known and are discussed in this symposium by Manuel Penades.

The Court concluded that granting an anti-suit injunction (ASI) can be based solely on the arbitration agreement being governed by English law. Although the Court asserted that this established a substantial connection with England, it is arguable that such connection is tenuous, since it is based on a very debated conflict of laws issue on the governing law of arbitration agreements and the effectiveness of the ASI granted is problematic.

1. The Decision of the Court on the Proper Forum Inquiry

In addressing the second question of the appeal, the Court considered whether England was the appropriate forum for granting an ASI.

Section 37 of the Senior Courts Act 1981 provides the authority to grant injunctions whenever it appears ‘just and convenient’ to do so. To grant an ASI, the Court must have jurisdiction over the defendant, a legitimate ground for relief, and must, as a matter of its discretion and with due regard to comity, conclude that an injunction is appropriate.

Since RusChem was not present in England, service outside the jurisdiction was required under Civil Procedure Rules (CPR) 6.36 and 6.37. UniCredit had to show a serious issue to be tried, that the case fell within a jurisdictional gateway, and that England was the proper forum under CPR Rule 6.37(3). The English law governed arbitration agreement satisfied the gateway in CPR Practice Direction 6B, paragraph 3.1(6)(c). There was no dispute that RusChem breached the arbitration agreement by initiating proceedings in Russia.

As to the proper forum inquiry, the parties assumed that the Spiliada principles should apply. Lord Leggatt, however, said that this ‘test is designed to deal with a different situation: one where (a) the claimant wishes to bring a substantive claim for relief in the English courts, (b) the defendant asserts that there is another available forum which is more appropriate for the trial of the action, and (c) no forum has been contractually agreed’ ([73]). Here, the issue was enforcing an arbitration agreement by way of an ASI. The Court applied the test from Donohue v Armco, where it was held that parties should generally be held to their contractual obligations (through a stay of proceedings or an ASI), unless there are strong reasons not to.

On the facts, the Court found no reason to deny the ASI. The absence of pending or imminent arbitration was irrelevant since RusChem breached the arbitration agreement. UniCredit did not need to seek relief in French courts or commence arbitral proceedings. In essence, breaching an English law-governed arbitration agreement was enough to justify an ASI.

The Court also addressed the issue discussed by Lord Goff in Airbus v Patel that, in addition to personal jurisdiction over the defendant, English courts must have an ‘interest or connection with’ the relief sought. The Court, however, held that Airbus did not apply to ASIs issued to prevent breaches of legal rights. Considering the matter, the Court dismissed (albeit in 3 lines) any suggestion that the choice of English law was a ‘tenuous connection’, affirming that this fact alone was a sufficient link to justify the court’s intervention.

Finally, the Court held that comity plays little to no role in cases involving breaches of arbitration agreements protected by the New York Convention 1958. Hence, no violation of comity for French or Russian courts was found. As to the French courts, the Court held that (a) multiple courts (and not only French courts as courts of the seat) could have jurisdiction to protect the arbitration agreement and (b) based on evidence on French law used in Deutsche Bank AG v RusChemAlliance LLC [2023] EWCA Civ 1144, while French courts could not issue an ASI, the enforcement of an English ASI would not be contrary to French international public policy. Regarding Russia, the Court found no infringement of comity, noting that Russia is a signatory to the New York Convention. Enforcing such an agreement, according to the Court, does not violate comity, but instead ensures that the parties honour their contractual commitments.

2. Substantial or Tenuous Connection?

The decision in UniCredit hinges upon the Court’s assertion that governing law alone is a substantial connection: ‘There is a substantial connection with England and Wales in the fact that the contractual rights UniCredit seeks to enforce are governed by English law’ ([83]). However, several points can be made:

First, the mere fact that the contract in question was governed by English law is a rather tenuous connection especially when the seat, parallel proceedings, and parties have no other links to England. The connection appears even more tenuous when considering the debated conflict of laws rule regarding the governing law of an arbitration agreement (see the EAPIL online symposium on the law governing arbitration agreements as well as the decision itself in [59] changing the rule in Enka v Chubb).

Second, given that an ASI operates as a remedy for a breach of an arbitration agreement, the Court’s approach in UniCredit could not be to abolish the proper forum inquiry altogether, but to establish a different (and lower) threshold that the one in Spiliada. This threshold is informed directly by the overarching aim of enforcing contractual agreements governed by English law and the strong international policy of upholding arbitration agreements. If, however, this had been a regular service out case based on a contract governed by English law, the courts would have applied the Spiliada principles to examine whether England is the ‘proper forum in which to bring the claim’ under CPR Rule 6.37(3). Related to this, one of the arguments of UniCredit on appeal before the Court (which the Court declined to decide because it had not been raised before the lower courts; see [19]) was that the relevant consideration is not the law governing the arbitration agreement, but rather the law governing the matrix contract (in this case, the bonds). According to this argument, if that is English law – regardless of the law applicable to the arbitration agreement – an ASI could be framed as a claim made in respect of a contract governed by English law under CPR Practice Direction 6B, paragraph 3.1(6)(c). Setting aside issues related to the separability of the arbitration agreement, the proper forum inquiry would still be required in such a case, and it would need to be decided if the lower threshold established in UniCredit or the Spiliada test should apply.

Third, Lord Leggatt highlighted an anomaly in English law regarding interim remedies and arbitration. A claim for interim relief under section 44 of the Arbitration Act 1996 can be served out of the jurisdiction under CPR Rule 62.5 without needing to establish that England is the ‘proper forum’. However, an ASI under section 37 of the Senior Courts Act requires claimants to prove that England is the proper forum. According to Lord Leggatt, however, ‘the proper principle to apply in both cases is that expressed in section 2(3) of the 1996 Act (at [92]). The purpose of this proviso, however, cannot be understood to be giving English courts a freestanding right to issue ASIs against overseas defendants without consideration of the proper forum inquiry under CPR Rule 6.37(3).

Fourth, the Court did not address the broader debate on the role of forum conveniens as a control mechanism for broadly construing jurisdictional grounds. Lord Leggatt’s position in FS Cairo (Nile Plaza) LLC v Lady Brownlie distinguished between the connection needed to establish jurisdiction and the role of forum conveniens in determining (by looking forward) where litigation should proceed. This distinction, however, suggests an argument against abolishing the proper forum inquiry, even in cases involving breaches of arbitration agreements.

Finally, the court surpassed any comity concerns not only based on the New York Convention but also on the fact that the remedy would be enforceable (in theory) in France even if French courts could not issue one themselves. On the contrary, the availability of arbitral remedies against the breach of the arbitration agreement was considered as ineffective by the Court due to the lack of coercive powers. Why an English ASI issued against an overseas defendant with no connection to England would be more effective than one issued by a tribunal in France remains unclear. In this context, it is submitted that (a) mechanisms exist to enforce such tribunal-ordered remedies; and (b) the general effectiveness of the remedy (both in France and in Russia) should have played a bigger role, especially considering that equity cannot act in vain.

3. A New Era of ASIs?

UniCredit signals a shift in how English courts approach ASIs for enforcing arbitration agreements. Beyond affirming the availability of ASIs in cases involving arbitration agreements governed by English law, irrespective of the seat of arbitration, the next step for litigants seeking ASIs before English courts if the matrix contract is governed by English law was already flagged. If this argument is accepted, it could lead to the availability of ASIs even if the default rule regarding the law applicable to arbitration agreements is statutorily changed to favour the law of the seat of arbitration.

This post was written by Manuel Penades, who is Reader in International Commercial Law at King’s College London. It is the first contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the UK Supreme Court Judgment in UniCredit Bank GmbH v RusChemAlliance LLC [2024] UKSC 30. The other contributions, by Faidon Varesis and Etienne Farnoux, can be found here and here, respectively. Readers are encouraged to participate in the discussion by commenting on the posts.


1. The Relevance of the Law Governing Arbitration Agreements to English Antisuit Injunctions

The law governing arbitration agreements has recently attracted significant attention in English arbitration law. Compared to other jurisdictions, the issue has become disproportionally complex and the UKSC has done little to improve the situation. The relevance of the topic is not limited to cases where the jurisdiction of arbitrators is in question. Cases such as UniCredit Bank GmbH v RusChemAlliance LLC [2024] UKSC 30, Enka Insaat Ve Sanayi AS v OOO Insurance Company Chubb [2020] UKSC 38 or Sulamérica Nacional de Seguros SA v Enesa Engenharia SA [2012] EWCA Civ 638 show that the law governing arbitration agreements impacts directly on the court’s powers to enforce contractual promises to arbitrate. These three cases concerned the possibility to issue an antisuit injunction preventing a party from litigating claims allegedly subject to arbitration agreements. In Enka, the applicable law was critical to define whether the dispute in question was covered by the scope of the arbitration agreement. In Sulamérica, the effectiveness of the arbitration agreement was dependant on the law applicable to it. In both cases, the seat of the arbitration was located in England.

2. The Law Governing the Arbitration Agreement in UniCredit

The question in UniCredit was whether the English courts had jurisdiction to order a Russian company not to pursue court proceedings in Russia against a German bank when the parties had agreed to settle any dispute between them by arbitration in Paris under the ICC Rules and had chosen English law to govern their contracts (bonds in this case).

The English court’s equitable jurisdiction to grant an injunction ‘in all cases in which it appears to the court to be just and convenient to do so’ arises from section 37(1) of the Senior Courts Act 1981. Yet, when the defendant is not in the jurisdiction and the seat is not in England and Wales, the power of the court to issue an antisuit injunction is dependant on two requirements. First, that the claim falls under one of the gateways provided in para 3.1 of Practice Direction 6B allowing service of the claim against the foreign defendant out of the jurisdiction. Second, that England and Wales is the ‘proper place’ in which to bring the claim. The UKSC addressed both matters in UniCredit but this post is only concerned with the first requirement, as the second is discussed in this symposium by Faidon Varesis.

The gateway on which Unicredit relied is available when ‘a claim is made in respect of a contract […] governed by the law of England and Wales’ (para 3.1(6)(c) PD6B). The bonds stated that they were governed by English law but RusChemAlliance argued (and Unicredit did not contest until the last instance, see [19]) that the contract with which the application for antisuit injunction was concerned was the arbitration agreement, whose breach the injunction sought to impede. The bonds did not contain any selection of applicable law specifically addressed at the arbitration agreement. The question then was whether English law governed the arbitration agreement pursuant to the general choice of law provided in a different clause of the bonds.

To answer this question, the UKSC revisited the test that was established just four years ago in Enka. The relevant passages of that test read ([170]):

iv) Where the law applicable to the arbitration agreement is not specified, a choice of governing law for the contract will generally apply to an arbitration agreement which forms part of the contract.

v) The choice of a different country as the seat of the arbitration is not, without more, sufficient to negate an inference that a choice of law to govern the contract was intended to apply to the arbitration agreement.

According to these rules, the general choice of English law to govern the bonds was equally applicable to the arbitration agreements contained in them. The principle of separability did not prevent this result as, in the words of the UKSC in Enka, ‘separability is not a principle that an arbitration agreement is to be treated as a distinct agreement for all purposes but only that it is to be so treated for the purpose of determining its validity or enforceability [and] thus, does not require that an arbitration agreement should be treated as a separate agreement for the purpose of determining its governing law’ ([41]).

RusChemAlliance, however, argued that this conclusion should be displaced by one of the two exceptions that the UKSC had established in Enka, particularly [170(vi)(a)]:

vi) Additional factors which may, however, negate such an inference and may in some cases imply that the arbitration agreement was intended to be governed by the law of the seat are: (a) any provision of the law of the seat which indicates that, where an arbitration is subject to that law, the arbitration agreement will also be treated as governed by that country’s law.

According to RusChemAlliance, the fact that under French law (as the law of the seat) the arbitration agreements in the dispute at hand would be governed by the French rules applicable to international arbitration agreements meant that the choice in the bonds in favour of English law could not be extended to the arbitration agreements. The UKSC disagreed, and concluded that assuming this level of legal foresight by the mere choice of Paris as seat went ‘beyond what it may in practice be realistic to expect’ [52]. The ‘natural’ [22] interpretation was to conclude that the parties wanted English law to govern every clause in the bonds. Therefore, English law applied to the arbitration agreements and the case fell within gateway 3.1(6)(c) PD6B. More generally, the UKSC conceded that the exception in [170(vi)(a)] of Enka created significant uncertainty and decided to remove it.

3. The Lessons from UniCredit

Two main lessons follow from this part of the decision in UniCredit.

3.1. The residual importance of implied choice of law for arbitration agreements

First, it confirms the residual role of implied choice of law, which in effect is squeezed out of the common law doctrine of the proper law of the contract for arbitration agreements. Enka and Kabab-Ji SAL (Lebanon) v Kout Food Group (Kuwait) [2021] UKSC 48 had already ruled that a choice of law to govern the contract should be generally construed as applying to the arbitration agreement set out (or incorporated by reference) in a clause of the contract. Yet, they had not excluded the possibility of an implied choice of law for arbitration agreements (in line with the traditional threefold test of the common law doctrine of the proper law). In fact, the extension of the choice of law from the contract to the arbitration agreement could have been seen as an implied choice of law inasmuch the UKSC acknowledged that such extension was ‘an inference’ which could be displaced in the exceptions provided in [170(vi)] to ‘imply that the arbitration agreement was intended to be governed by the law of the seat’.

The UKSC went a step further in UniCredit and declared that ‘if it were necessary or relevant to characterise the choice of law for the arbitration agreement signified by such a governing law clause as “express” or “implied”, I think it would be more apt to call it an “express choice” because it is identified by interpreting the express terms of the contact and is not based on any implied term’ ([27]). That is, what in the past could have been seen as an implied choice of law based on the terms of the contract or the circumstances of the case is now an express choice of law, which has simply been extended to cover the arbitration agreement using ‘the rules of contractual interpretation of English law as the law of the forum’ ([21], in line with [170(iii)] of Enka).

Enka also confirmed that ‘where there is no express choice of law to govern the contract, a clause providing for arbitration in a particular place will not by itself justify an inference that the contract (or the arbitration agreement) is intended to be governed by the law of that place’ ([170(vii)] of Enka). A reader could have reasonably understood this rule simply to mean that, in the absence of choice of law for the matrix contract, the choice of seat does not imply a choice of the seat’s law to govern the arbitration agreement. In fact, the UKSC had defined the implication of terms as a ‘process of inference’ in [35] of Enka.

With this background in mind, there was every reason to believe that the use of the term ‘inference’ in [170(v), (vi) and (vii)] of Enka referred to the possibility to construe a choice of law for the matrix contact or a choice of seat as implied choices of law for the arbitration agreement.

The result after UniCredit, read together with Enka, however, is that the ‘inference’ in [170(v) and (vi)] is, in reality, an express choice. The UKSC had already anticipated this reading in [39] of Kabab-Ji. Implied choice will, therefore, be reduced to two narrow scenarios.

One concerns instances where: 1) there is no express choice of law to govern the contract, 2) the parties have chosen an arbitral seat, and 3) something else in the arbitration agreement (whatever that might be) clearly indicates an undeclared intention to have the contract to arbitrate governed by the law of the seat. In practice, however, these cases will probably avoid the embroilment of the implied choice test and be resolved under the closest and most real connection test, which will generally also lead to the law of the seat (as per [170(viii)] of Enka).

The other possible avenue for implied choice will be the instances where parties select the law governing the matrix contract impliedly. The majority in Enka did not discuss the possibility to ‘infer’ that an implied choice of law for the main contract extends to the arbitration agreement. This is a significant gap between steps (vii) and (viii) in [170] of Enka and later decisions by the UKSC have failed to fill it. It was only the minority in Enka that addressed this possibility. In their view, it would be a ‘natural, rational and realistic’ inference and ‘simply the correct objective interpretation of the parties’ main contract and arbitration agreement’ ([228]). It is reasonable to expect this question to reach the UKSC in the future.

It is difficult to envisage a viable argument in favour of implied choice of law for arbitration agreements outside the discussed scenarios.

3.2. The uncertainty around the new section 6A of the Arbitration Act 1996 and a proposal to resolve it

The proposed choice-of-law rule for arbitration agreements in the Arbitration Bill provides that

6A Law applicable to arbitration agreement

(1) The law applicable to an arbitration agreement is—

(a) the law that the parties expressly agree applies to the arbitration agreement, or

(b) where no such agreement is made, the law of the seat of the arbitration in question.

(2) For the purposes of subsection (1), agreement between the parties that a particular law applies to an agreement of which the arbitration agreement forms a part does not constitute express agreement that that law also applies to the arbitration agreement. […]

After years of uncertainty and a lengthy review process, the new rule offers the possibility of a fresh start. The new section 6A eliminates implied choice of law entirely and replaces the closest and most real connection test with a hard-and-fast rule in favour of the law of the seat. The Bill also refines the wording of section 6A(2) to avoid litigation about the meaning of an express choice of law concerning the arbitration agreement. Yet, the UKSC has muddled the waters in UniCredit. By confirming that a generic express choice of law for the matrix contract, even without the definition of ‘Agreement’ as in Kabab-Ji, is an express choice for the arbitration agreement, it has opened the floodgates to the type of litigation that the introduction of section 6A tries to avoid. As argued in my written evidence before the House of Lords Committee tasked with the Arbitration Bill, what will follow from the adoption of the Bill is a new type of litigation concerned with whether an express choice of law is ‘sufficiently’ express to satisfy section 6A.

The arbitration agreements in UniCredit serve as illustration. The contracts provided that ‘This Bond and all non-contractual or other obligations arising out of or in connection with it shall be construed under and governed by English law’. This wide choice of law clause in not just ‘an agreement between the parties that a particular law applies to an agreement of which the arbitration agreement forms a part’ (section 6A(2)). The clause goes beyond the agreement (the bonds) and reaches ‘all non-contractual or other obligations arising out of or in connection with’ them. Would this be express enough for the purposes of section 6A(1)(a)? Importantly, in the transition between the Second Consultation and the Final Report, the Law Commission excluded the requirement that the choice of law clause for the arbitration agreement had to be ‘in the arbitration agreement itself’, which means that it should not be impossible to have express choices that are not in the arbitration agreement or that do not refer to it expressly.

This uncertainty could have been largely avoided by the UKSC.

The Court could have decided that the type of ‘inference’ in UniCredit (which followed [170(v)] of Enka) was just a case of implied choice of law for the arbitration agreement. This finding would not have operated under section 6A, which excludes implied choice. Alternatively, the UKSC could have clarified that, while such ‘inference’ might be deemed an express choice under the common law doctrine of the proper law, this would no longer apply under section 6A given the exclusion in section 6A(2). Yet, the Court refused to make such reassuring statements and, instead, declared that ‘depending on what the word “expressly” is taken to add to the word “agree”, this [ie, section 6A(2)] would not by itself alter the law as stated in Enka’ ([28]). What is more, the UKSC insisted on the idea, already mentioned in Enka, that ‘it does not matter’ whether a choice of law is express or implied, as ‘the distinction is of no legal significance’ ([27]). The reality is that, while express and implied choice might produce the same effects in common law, the distinction is of critical legal significance under section 6A. Express choice will be effective whereas implied choice will not. Turning its back to the imminence of section 6A and refusing to avoid unnecessary confusion was the wrong path for the UKSC. The reputation of English arbitration law and London as arbitral seat will suffer for it, and so will the parties who choose to arbitrate in London.

The paradox over the last years is that, while the proposal behind section 6A was motivated (in a significant part) by the ‘complex and unpredictable’ choice of law test for arbitration agreements after Enka (see Law Commission, ‘Review of the Arbitration Act 1996: Final Report and Bill’, para 12.20), that test has been simplified after UniCredit by eliminating the problematic exception in [170(vi)(a)] of Enka. In parallel, the definition of express choice of law confirmed in UniCredit will complicate the interpretation of section 6A and be a source of major uncertainty, which will require further court intervention.

While unlikely, this concern would justify a reconsideration of section 6A by Parliament before the passing of the Bill. A viable compromise would be to replace the current wording with the following:

(2) For the purposes of subsection (1), agreement between the parties that a particular law applies to an agreement of which the arbitration agreement forms a part constitutes express agreement that that law also applies to the arbitration agreement.

This wording would capture the essence of the common-sense approach insisted upon by the UKSC in Enka, Kabab-Ji and UniCredit while reaching a compromise between most of the voices that have participated in the review process. It would preserve party autonomy as well as the requirement of an express choice (hence eliminating the uncertainties around implied choice of law). It would also satisfy those who invoke the appropriateness to align the contract with the arbitration agreement while maintaining the default rule in favour of the law the seat.

4. The Jurisdiction of English Courts to Issue Antisuit Injunctions Concerning Arbitration Agreements Seated Outside of England & Wales When Solely the Matrix Contract is Governed by English Law

The analysis in UniCredit confirmed that, subject to the proper forum test, English courts have jurisdiction to issue antisuit injunctions regarding arbitrations seated abroad when the contract contains an English law clause and the parties have not indicated that the arbitration agreement is governed by any other law. The jurisdictional hook was the law governing the arbitration agreement.

The UKSC, however, did not exclude the possibility that this jurisdiction might also exist when the matrix contract alone, and not the arbitration agreement, is governed by English law. Unicredit only suggested this argument late in the appeal before the UKSC and the judgment did not address it. There is little doubt that this possibility will be explored in future cases, and rightly so.

While arbitration agreements might be separable from the matrix contract for validity and choice of law purposes, it is hard to deny that Unicredit’s request for an antisuit injunction before the English courts was made in respect of the contract that contained those agreements. In the context of the choice of law analysis, the UKSC declared in UniCredit that ‘even if the obligations created by the arbitration agreement were regarded as separate from the bond contract for this purpose, they are on any view “obligations arising … in connection with” the bond’ ([31]). It would be surprising if the expressions ‘in connection with’ and ‘in respect of’ received such disparate interpretations by English courts that one led to the inclusion of arbitration agreements contained in the document, whereas the other excluded them.

Further, case law has given a broad interpretation to the words ‘in respect of’. In Albon (t/a N A Carriage Co) v Naza Motor Trading SDN BHD & Anor [2007] EWHC 9 (Ch), Lightman J decided that ‘the formula of words in CPR 6.20(5) “in respect of a contract” [now para 3.1(6)(a) PB6B] does not require that the claim arises under a contract: it requires only that the claim relates to or is connected with the contract.  That is the clear and unambiguous meaning of the words used’ ([27]). The judge reinforced this reading by reference to the decision of Mann CJ in Trustees Executors and Agency Co Ltd v Reilly [1941] VLR 110, 111, who stated that

The words ‘in respect of’ are difficult of definition, but they have the widest possible meaning of any expression intended to convey some connection or relation between the two subject matters to which the words refer.

Deripaska v Cherney [2009] EWCA Civ 849, [67], has confirmed this broad interpretation.

5. Conclusion

Pacta sun servanda lies at the core of UniCredit. This makes it an appealing decision which confirms England as a stronghold for arbitration and paves the way for a new field of arbitration-related litigation before English courts. Yet, it also complicates unnecessarily the success of the review of the Arbitration Act 1996. The UKSC should have achieved the former without causing the latter.

Regulation 2024/1689 laying down harmonised rules on artificial intelligence, commonly known as the EU AI Act, has entered into force on 1 August 2024 and will progressively be applicable to several (private and public) organisations within transnational AI value chains connected to the EU internal market.

This Regulation is remarkable for two main reasons. First, it has a horizontal dimension covering in principle (all) hazardous AI systems and models. Second, it is of a binding legal nature going beyond classical AI  ethical principles such as those developed by UNESCO, the OECD or the HLEG on AI.

As the AI Act is based on the New Legislative Framework (NLF) established for EU product safety policy, readers of the blog may wonder how it could have any private international law (PIL) aspect or even any impact on the field. Here are some first answers.

The AI Act in a Nutshell
Main Regulatory Blocks

The AI Act lays down three main regulatory blocks (see in details here). First, it provides for harmonised rules concerning the placing on the market, putting into service and use of AI systems in the Union. It includes, at a higher level of granularity, provisions prohibiting certain AI practices (such as social scoring or crime prediction under certain conditions) as well as specific requirements for high-risk systems and AI models. The second block consists of a dense public enforcement scheme covering, on the one hand, market surveillance rules to be implemented by national authorities. On the other hand, these rules are reinforced by a federal/EU-level governance framework – inspired by other regulatory instruments of the digital single market – and embodied by the AI Office. The third set of rules provides for measures to promote innovation, notably in the form of regulatory sandboxes, support measures and regulatory exemptions for SMEs and start-ups.

Conformity Regimes for AI Systems and Models

Under the AI Act, an AI system is “a machine-based system”, autonomous and adaptive, “[inferring] from the input it receives, how to generate outputs such as predictions, content, recommendations, or decisions that can influence physical or virtual environments” (AI Act, Article 3 point 1). Based on this broad definition, the Act provides for a taxonomy of AI systems and models, anchored in the “risk-based approach”. The more the AI system or model presents potential risks to the health, safety or fundamental rights of citizens, the more stringent the legislative requirements are.

The main regulated category in the Act is high-risk AI systems. It includes systems in the field of biometrics, critical infrastructure, law enforcement, education and employment, essential services, migration and the administration of justice. The regulation provides for numerous requirements relating to the safety and trustworthiness of AI (e.g. provisions on risk management, data governance, transparency, human oversight, etc.). These requirements and complemented obligations are mainly intended for AI providers (who develop and market the systems in the EU) and deployers (who use these systems in the course of their professional activity in the EU).

A lighter regulatory regime is established for general-purpose AI (GPAI) models presenting systematic risk – such as the Large Language Model GPT-4 used by the famous chatbot Chat-GPT –. It is surprising that GPAI models with high-impact capabilities fall under a less restrictive regulatory framework (than high risk AI systems), although they are expected to have “a significant impact on the Union market […] due to actual or reasonably foreseeable negative effects on […] fundamental rights, or the society as a whole” (AI Act, Article 3 point 65). They are already used for instance – once integrated into AI systems – in the judicial domain, notably for the development of legal tech services for lawyers, of robot-judges or, at least, as a tool to support court proceedings (as recently illustrated in a Dutch decision).

Private International Law Issues

Despite the absence of reference to PIL rules or instruments in the AI Act, including to regulate the interplay between the Act and EU regulations on PIL, there are some important points of contact between the two fields. They may be identified both at the implementation and enforcement stages of the AI Act’s regulatory framework.

PIL Issues in the AI Act Implementation
A. The Global Reach of the AI Act

First, the AI Act has a broad geographical scope of application. It replicates the broad understanding and legal treatment of transnational supply chains for products followed by EU law on product safety. Since the vast majority of the AI industry is established outside the Union, the AI Act must ensure a cross-border level playing field among all AI players and the protection of EU values including the safeguard of fundamental rights for European citizens. Article 2, 1 of the AI Act provides for the geographical delineation of the regulatory framework and consists of a rule of applicability, in the same vein as Article 2, 1 of the DSA or Article 3 of the GDPR. Organisations are subject to the EU regulation even when they are established outside the Union, as soon as the AI system has an impact on individuals in the Union. More precisely, even when both the provider and the deployer of an AI system are established in a third country, but “the output produced by the AI system is used in the Union”, the regulation is applicable. The difficulties here will be the predictability as well as the practicability of this broad delimitation, especially for providers. The latter should anticipate the jurisdictions – here the EU – in which their AI systems may be deployed but also in which the outputs of the system’s deployment may be used.

From a PIL perspective, this provision of the AI Act is a strong expression of EU unilateralism. The Union intends to impose its regulatory leadership in the field of AI technologies internationally to ensure the protection of its citizens. It gives the AI Act an international mandatory nature and this could have further conflict of laws implication at the Act’s enforcement stage.

B. AI Systems in the Field of (Cross-Border) Justice and Dispute Resolution

Second, among the various AI systems covered by the AI Act, those used in the administration of justice are considered high-risk. One specific use-case deals with AI assisting a judicial authority in different tasks: researching and interpretating facts and the law; and applying the law to a concrete set of facts. This applies to the Judiciary and the “judicial function” (i.e. juris dictio stage), beyond mere PIL issues. However, two aspects concerning PIL in particular can be highlighted.

On the one hand, the (above-mentioned) functions of judicial assistance particularly reflect PIL reasoning which, by its very nature, encompasses the entire dispute resolution process through an international focal point (i.e. determination of the competent jurisdiction, of the applicable law and of the foreign law’s content). It is good news that AI systems that may be used in the future to resolve PIL issues by courts are qualified as high-risk. PIL is a complex field of law indeed!

On the other hand, the said use-case is extended to arbitration, which therefore includes international arbitration. The use of AI has developed considerably in the context of alternative dispute resolution. Those involved in the ecosystem of international commercial or investment arbitration therefore need to be extremely cautious. The AI Act applied both to the provider and the deployer – it means, for the latter, the arbitrator – of an AI system.

PIL Issues in the AI Act Enforcement

During the legislative process, the draft AI Act was severely criticized by civil society representatives for not establishing a private enforcement scheme (see here and here). Given the serious risks to fundamental rights posed by AI, how can affected citizens obtain compensation in case of harm? This question obviously concerns PIL rules since the AI systems used in the EU are marketed, for the most part, by non-European operators. In addition, numerous AI systems are digital in nature and used via a computer interface. Thus, here again, the legal relationships will often be of international nature.

The AI Act at least provides for a complaint mechanism, including for individuals, before the market supervisory authority concerned in the event of a breach of the provisions of the Regulation. Moreover, in case of deployment of automated or support decision-making systems, qualified high risk, end-users have a right of information and a right to explanation of the role of the AI system in the decision-making procedure. However, there is no legal basis for plaintiffs to access to the courts. Plus, these international substantive rules may require the support of private international law to clarify their implementation in a particular EU member State. In parallel to the AI Act, EU law has developed a specific framework for civil liability for defective products, recently modernised and a proposal for a directive introducing a special liability regime for AI is under discussion in the European legislative arena. However, private international law aspects are not directly considered by these texts.

In this highly complex and dense context, legal practitioners will have to learn thinking in terms of cross-border civil justice in the AI ecosystem. The latter is not necessarily equivalent to the more general digital ecosystem, as AI is a multifaceted technology.

Regulation (EU) 2024/1183 establishing the European Digital Identity Framework entered into force on 20 May 2024.

As reported on this blog (at the time of the Commission’s proposal), the major contribution of this Regulation is the creation of a “European Digital Identity Wallet” (EUDIW). It aims to allow citizens and companies based in the European Union, to store person identification data (e.g. name, address, gender, civil status) and electronic attestations of attributes (e.g. bank account, birth certificate, diploma, company statute) for cross-border use (see Article 5a of the Regulation). It should also allow users to authenticate and access online public or private services.

Compared to the Commission’s proposal, the final version of the EUDI Regulation reinforces and expands the provisions on the European digital identity wallet to make it more secure, trustworthy and pratical for users. In particular, numerous provisions now deal with personal data protection issues based on GDPR.

Main Provisions of the EUDI Regulation

As summarised in the updated version of the Briefing paper from the EP Research Services on European Digital Identity, the main provisions of the Regulation are as follows:

Member States have to provide citizens and businesses with a European digital identity wallet that allows users to digitally identify themselves, store and manage identity data and official documents (such as driving licences, university diplomas, medical prescriptions) in digital form in all EU countries. The wallet can also be used to digitally sign documents. The European digital identity wallets can be provided either by the Member State itself or by a private-sector provider.

The wallet is voluntary and free of charge for individuals, while businesses may incur costs. It does not replace existing identification and authentication means but complements them.

The wallet contains a dashboard of all transactions and offers the possibility to report alleged violations of data protection. Users can also request that their data be deleted.

The wallet should ensure the highest level of data protection and implement advanced security features such as state-of-the-art encryption and storage methods.

Whenever there is no legal requirement for users to have a legal identity for authentication, they will be able to use freely chosen pseudonyms.

Very large online platforms will have to accept the European digital identity wallet when users wish to log in on them.

Member States have to disclose the source code of the user application software components of the wallet to enable members of the public to understand its operation and to be able to audit and review its code. The disclosure of the source code may be limited for public security purposes.

The Commission has to establish a European Digital Identity Cooperation Group to support and facilitate cooperation among EU Member States.

Web browsers are required to recognise QWACs, so that users can verify the identity of persons or legal entities behind a website. This identity data has to be displayed in a user-friendly manner. In case of substantiated security concerns, web browsers are still allowed to take precautionary measures related to these certificates.

Private International Law Perspective

I propose to breifly present two provisions of the new Regulation in the light of private international law.

Article 5 f on Cross-border Reliance on European Digital Identity Wallets

This provision lays down the equivalent effect of European Digital Identity Wallets based on the Regulation with other means of electronic identification and authentication to access an online service provided by a public sector body in the Member States. The same applies for access to essential services (such as energy, banking, financial services, social security, health, drinking water, digital infrastructure or education) provided by private relying parties, and also for online services provided by very large online platforms and search engines (as defined by the Digital Services Act, Article 33).

This gives rise to two main comments. First, European digital identity based on the European Digital Identity Wallet is meant as a “renewed sovereign identity”, towards the “privatisation” of digital identity by major economic operators. In that respect, the European digital identity must be cross-border (i.e. across national borders) and even transnational (i.e. beyond states borders). In that respect, the European wallet will have to be accepted by private tech operators as an identifier for access to their service. On the other hand, the boundaries between domestic identity and European identity will necessarily blur. The European digital  wallet is, according to the Union’s competences, of a cross-border nature (cf. Article 114 TFEU); it aims at establishing equal access to cross-border services within the Member States. But when services are accessible online or digital per se, the difference between national and cross-border is much less clear. In this sense, the Regulation encourages Member States to integrate European Digital Wallets “with the ecosystem of public and private digital services already implemented at national, local or regional level […] including by enhanced interoperability with existing national electronic identification means” (Rec. 21). The development of a digital ecosystem at Union’s level plays a major role in European legal integration based on an area without internal borders. The same observation was recently made in the context of digitalisation of the European judicial cooperation in civil and penal matters.

Article 45 b on Legal Effects of Electronic Attestation of Attributes

Electronic attestations of attributes (e.g. bank account, birth certificate, diploma, company statutes) may be stored and managed within the European Digital Identity Wallet. These attestations cannot be deprived of legal effect simply because they are in electronic format. Furthermore, qualified electronic attestation of attributes (i.e. attributes provided by the qualified trust service providers, see Rec. 61 and Annex V of the Regulation) and attestations of attributes issued by (or on behalf of) a public sector body responsible for an authentic source (see Article 45 f and Annex VII; e.g. the civil registrar or the clerck of the commercial register) have the same legal effect as equivalent paper documents. Finally, attestations of attributes issued by (or on behalf of) a public sector body responsible for an authentic source (such as civil status documents or company statutes) benefit from the principle of mutual recognition within all Member States.

There is therefore a gradation of normative effects for the attributes contained in the European Digital Identity Wallet. In a cross-border context, these effects will have to be analysed through the lens of private international law. This is what my previous post on the draft regulation began to do. To limit myself here to the mutual recognition of electronic attestations of public documents (as mentionned above), this recognition should be equivalent to that applied to the documents themselves when they circulate from one Member States to another. The European Digital Identity Wallet will therefore have to be coordinated with the Public Document Regulation and the ICCS Conventions (and the circulation of digital public documents organised by these texts).

Fascinating work ahead!

The author of this post is Sara De Vido, Associate Professor of International Law at the Ca’ Foscari University of Venice.


This post, drawn from a broader article (S. De Vido, ‘The Privatisation of Climate Change Litigation: Current Developments in Conflict of LawsJus Cogens 6, 65–88 (2024)), explores the promise of ecofeminism as a method in private international law, with specific regard to the analysis of the concept of “event” under Article 7 of Regulation (EC) No. 864/2007 of 11 July 2007 on the law applicable to non-contractual obligations (Rome II) in climate change cases.

The starting point of the reflection is the Milieudefensie et al v Royal Dutch Shell plc., decided in 2021 by the Hague District Court, and still pending (see the analysis in this Blog). In 2019, an environmental group called Milieudefensie (Friends of the Earth), along with other NGOs and more than 17,000 Dutch citizens, complained in front of the Hague District Court that Shell violated its duty of care under Dutch law and human rights obligations by failing to reduce greenhouse gas emissions.

The Court, having asserted its jurisdiction, applied the Dutch civil code to the merits, which was identified through the connecting factor enshrined in Article 7 of the Rome II Regulation.

As it is known, according to this provision, the law applicable to a non-contractual obligation arising out of environmental damage or damage sustained by persons or property as a result of such damage shall be the law determined pursuant to another provision of the Regulation, Article 4(1), which is the law of the country in which the damage occurred, unless the person seeking compensation for damage chooses to base his or her claim on the law of the country in which the event giving rise to the damage occurred.

To determine what is “an event giving rise to the damage” in the sense of Article 7, the Dutch Court reflected on how every emission of CO2 and other greenhouse gases, whether or not produced in the Netherlands and whether or not coming from Shell’s plants, contribute to the climate change and to the damage caused to Dutch residents in the Netherlands. The Court broadly interpreted Article 7 by suggesting that the provision opens to situations in which multiple events giving rise to the damage in multiple countries can be identified (para. 4.3.6). According to the Court, the corporate decision that was taken in the Netherlands for Shell represented one of these multiple events and “an independent cause of damage, which may contribute to environmental damage and imminent environmental damage” for Dutch residents. In other words, since the relevant business decisions concerning the numerous Shell’s emitting plants were taken in the Netherlands, Dutch law was applicable.

It is not the purpose of this post to analyse the case in detail, but to critically assess the principle of ubiquity under Article 7 of the Rome II Regulation, and to look at the Dutch judgment from an ecofeminist private international law perspective, which we argue is capable of grasping the complexity of events, like climate change, that stretch across time and space.

Feminist Analysis and Private International Law

Feminist analysis in private international law is still underdeveloped. Feminist theories reveal the “imbalance of power and wealth and the variety of oppressive relationships for people, especially women, in the international realm” (Banu 2017, p. 4). As Muir Watt argued, private international law has “contributed very little to the global governance debate, remaining remarkably silent before the increasingly unequal distribution of wealth and authority in the world”. This happened despite an interest of private international law for the private dimension of human affairs: from contracts to marriages, from the private status of individuals to issues of nationality of married women.

It is the “lost” private side of international law an outstanding author like Karen Knop tried to recapture and reassess from a feminist perspective, through a different account of history. Using a feminist lens in the analysis does not necessarily mean to talk about women and/or family matters.

This is one of the stereotypes inherent in the general scholarship that diminishes the feminist method as referring to women only. Using a feminist method means to read international law by disrupting traditional categories of law, unravelling patterns of discrimination and power imbalances tolerated and reproduced by the States.

Other interesting approaches have developed criticism against the structural patterns of oppression in the legal system and unravelled critical aspects of the mainstream international law. However, the feminist, and the ecofeminist method more specifically, is here considered as a possible perspective which adds to the analysis of schemes of oppression and subordination the layer of intersectionality, and, for what concerns ecofeminism, the layer of nature.

It means indeed to emphasise intersectionality as a lens of analysis, by looking at how different grounds of discrimination determine the position of an individual in the society, and, looking beyond humanity, in the environment. It is not necessarily the best method to describe the phenomenon of privatisation of climate change litigation, but it is rather a way to change point of view and elaborate new legal solutions that combine an understanding of the patterns of discrimination within our human societies with the realisation of oppression between different species and even across generations.

What if in the web of relationship human beings are considered as part of a whole, where this whole is the environment, composed of different elements and stretching across generations? In the choice of the law applicable to the case, the concept of “event” under Article 7 of the Rome II Regulation might incorporate emerging values and concerns, and appreciate, on the one hand, the relation between different elements of the environment, including human beings; on the other hand, how and to what extent transnational corporations must be held liable for their contribution to climate change.

As put by a feminist scholar decades ago, working with the common law system, “mak[ing] corporate decisionmakers personally responsible for the consequences of their decisions, thus humanizing corporations and their activities”.

The Promise of Ecofeminism as a Method in Conflict of Laws

The promise of an ecofeminist analysis for conflict of laws starts from the understanding of the relationship (and this idea of relational feminism is taken from Banu 2017) existing between different elements of the environment, with (a part of) humanity dominating over nature, and how this unequal relation between non-human animals, natural objects and humans reflects structural discrimination rooted in human society.

In a moment of history in which climate change and other forms of slow violence (as conceptualised by Rob Nixon and legally explored by Eliana Cusato, Nicole Rogers and myself in this edited book) have been challenging the space and the temporality of law, an ecofeminist approach unhinges the neutrality of conflict of laws and unravels its potential by introducing in the legal argument ecological concerns. Ecofeminism is a philosophical framing that led to the elaboration of different approaches: from the essentialist to the cultural one, from the socialist to the one incorporating intersectionality.

For a lawyer, this thought is intriguing because it puts into question law itself in the reproduction of schema of oppression and domination, but also allows legal scholarship (willing to listen) discover how to approach things in a different way: having in mind the environment and the interconnections between its different elements at the core of the debate.

The premise on which the ecofeminist thought is construed is that patterns of oppression and domination are not only intra-species but also inter-species, in the relation between humans and the nature (Grear 2015, p. 241).

When it comes to conflict of laws, at first sight the idea of endorsing an ecofeminist method is out of question. How can private international law, characterised by rules of conflict, take into consideration nature and its relations with human beings? Nonetheless, if we take a closer look at Rome II Regulation and at the emblematic case Milieudefensie, we will see that this method has infiltrated the system already and offers an innovative response to current challenges.

In its nature, the elaboration of ecofeminism, starting from Banu’s thought, includes nature in the relation (non-human animals and natural objects) and disrupts inequality in the relation between human beings. According to this line of thought, that this article starts to elaborate as preliminary application of a recent research, ecofeminism is useful to examine Article 7 of Rome II Regulation as applied by the Dutch Court in the Milieudefensie case.

There are two reasons for that.

The first one is textual and pertains to the choice by the parties affected: the general rule of conflict established by the Regulation (Article 4 (1)), namely the lex loci damni, or the special rule of conflict identified in the law of the country in which the event giving rise to the damage occurred. In this way, the law allows the injured parties to restructure their “human” relationship with a corporation: a relationship that is (generally) characterised by inequality.

The second reason is an ecological interpretation. By interpreting the place of the event as the place of the decision-making, a court understands that the environmental damage caused by climate change has an ecological impact that transcends proximity and a clear relationship between the cause and the consequence. It emphasises how, to tackle the challenge of climate change, there is a need to balance the relationship between the different parties and to make corporations liable for their impact on the environment.

Private international law in this sense is key, because through mechanisms of jurisdiction and choice of law it can justify the attraction of a certain case in the orbit of this or that State’s law (the one having a more stringent duty of care, usually the place of the decision-making process). In this understanding, the ecofeminist method puts into question the oppression provoked by the activity of transnational corporations and tries to rebalance this inequality by leaving a choice to the injured parties and by determining the law of the place of the decision-making.

There are two main comments stemming from this argument that justifies from an ecofeminist perspective the understanding of the concept of “place of the event” as the place of the decision-making process.

First, it can be questioned that this interpretation of the rule of conflict is excessively vague and jeorpardises freedom to conduct a business. The answer in light of both relational and ecofeminist approach is that the choice of law is not necessarily a sterile and objective mechanism to solve issues of conflict of sovereignty or state interests. It is rather a way “restructure oppressive relationships” (Banu 2017). This might be seen as a disproportionate burden imposed on corporations. However, we are convinced that it is time to consider the importance of values – human rights, but also ecological concerns – and that courts should give strength to interpretation that are not only in favour of the applicants (the victims) but also of nature. This trend in the practice of courts could induce corporations to adopt code of conducts and industry climate policies that take into account the multiple interests at stake.

The second comment refers to the still insufficient extent of the debate. It is time to make corporations liable for their contributions to climate change, but it is also time to acknowledge that the effects of climate change are not equal, and disproportionately affect certain categories of people, such as women, children, elderly people, people living in certain areas and social contexts, migrants, etc. In the Milieudefensie case, the Dutch court referred to the impact on the Dutch population at that time of the complaint. However, an ecofeminist approach looks at the injured party as the part of the population that suffers the most, and in a disproportionate way using an intersectional lens, from the consequences of climate change. In the respect of procedural requirements, which are not challenged here, this approach would stress that the analysis of the “victim” would be linked to the disproportionate impact of climate change on specific groups of our society. To put in a very simplistic way, in the Milieudefensie case, it would not mean to consider the entire Dutch population, but the part of the population that suffers the most (because of intersectional grounds of discrimination) from climate change.

Conclusions

This article is a first attempt to apply an innovative and disruptive method such as ecofeminism, in its “dialogue” with relational feminisms, to private relations having a cross-border dimension in climate change litigation. “Private” climate change litigation has an enormous potential, but it cannot adequately address all the challenges deriving from phenomena of “slow violence” unless, as this article tried to demonstrate, a change of perspective in the legal reasoning is invoked, one that puts the environment, of which humans belong, at the core of the discussion.

The post below was written by Pedro De Miguel Asensio, who is Professor of Private International Law at the Complutense University of Madrid. This is the third contribution to the EAPIL’s online symposium on Inkreal, after the posts of Sergi Gimenez and Gilles Cuniberti.


The main contribution of the Inkreal judgment is to establish that Article 25 of the Brussels I bis Regulation allows the parties to a contract, even if they are domiciled in the same Member State and all the elements of the contract are located in that State, to confer jurisdiction to settle the disputes arising from the contract on the courts of another Member State. In fact, this case has provided the Court of Justice with the opportunity to address a question which had been referred to it previously, but which it was unable to rule on at the time because the request for a preliminary ruling was withdrawn by the Portuguese Supremo Tribunal de Justiça and the case removed from the register (EU:C:2017:237).

In particular, among the questions already referred to the Court of Justice in case C-136/16, Sociedade Metropolitana de Desenvolvimento, in connection with the practice relating to the conclusion contracts under the terms of the ISDA Master Agreement, was whether, in a dispute between two national companies of a Member State concerning swap contracts, the existence therein of clauses conferring jurisdiction in favour of another Member State constitutes a sufficient international element to give rise to the application of the Brussels I bis Regulation. Now, the Inkreal judgment in the framework of case C-566/22 answers a similar question in the affirmative and clarifies that the mere agreement of the parties to a contract designating the courts of a Member State other than that of their common domicile as having jurisdiction is sufficient for the legal situation to have an international element for the purposes of the jurisdiction rules of the Brussels I bis Regulation.

Although it is a criterion that could give rise to misgivings insofar as it could leave it to the parties to circumvent, within the limited framework of Article 25 of the Brussels I bis Regulation, the jurisdiction of the courts of the only Member State with which the contract is connected (as the Advocate General emphasised in his Opinion in Inkreal, EU:C:2023:768) and may sometimes cause serious inconvenience to one of the parties (as raised in the second of the questions referred for a preliminary ruling in case C-136/16), the approach adopted by the Court seems the better view. Its position reinforces: (a) consistency between the Brussels I bis Regulation and other Union instruments on judicial cooperation in civil matters (see I, infra); (b) the objectives of predictability and legal certainty in the application of the Brussels I bis Regulation (II, infra); and (c) the particular significance of the Union’s private international law instruments as an element of integration (III, infra).

I. Consistency between the Brussels I bis Regulation and Other Union Instruments on Judicial Cooperation in Civil Matters

The judgment confirms previous case law according to which the application of the rules of jurisdiction of the Brussels I bis Regulation is in any case subject to the existence of an international element, which corresponds to the fact that it is an instrument relating to judicial cooperation in civil matters having cross-border implications, in the terms of Article 81(1) TFEU. However, the judgment not only confirms that for such international element to be present it is sufficient that the situation raises “questions relating to the determination of the jurisdiction of the courts in the international sphere” (para. 22 referring to the IRnova judgmen, EU:C:2022:648), but also adds as a novelty the clarification that such a circumstance is present whenever the parties to a contract are established in a Member State other than the court seised on the basis of the relevant jurisdiction agreement, insofar as in such situations the question arises of determining the courts of which of those Member States has international jurisdiction to hear the dispute in question (paras. 23-25).

In order to reach that conclusion, the judgment attributes a particular relevance to the definition of “cross-border cases” in Article 3(1) of Regulation (EC) No 1896/2006 creating a European order for payment procedure, which provides that “a cross-border case is one in which at least one of the parties is domiciled or habitually resident in a Member State other than the Member State of the court seised”. Apart from the relevance given in the judgment to the coordination between the Brussels I bis Regulation and Regulation (EC) No 1896/2006, the approach taken by the Court of Justice also seems to be supported by the content of Regulation (EC 593/2008 on the law applicable to contractual obligations (Rome I Regulation).

Recital 15 to the Rome I Regulation states:

Where a choice of law is made and all other elements relevant to the situation are located in a country other than the country whose law has been chosen, the choice of law should not prejudice the application of provisions of the law of that country which cannot be derogated from by agreement. This rule should apply whether or not the choice of law was accompanied by a choice of court or tribunal.

Consequently, Recital 15 and Article 3(3) of the Rome I Regulation seem to be based on the assumption that the parties to a contract may choose a court of a Member State as having jurisdiction, even if all the relevant elements of the situation prior to their choice of forum (and law) are located in another Member State (regarding the interpretation of Article 3.3 Rome I Regulation in the context of insolvency proceedings, see CJEU Judgment of 8 June 2017, Vynils, C-54/16, EU:C:2017:433, concerning an apparently domestic Italian contract that conteined “a clause stating that English law is the chosen law and a clause choosing the jurisdiction of the London Maritime Arbitrators Association”, para. 20).

In so far as the judgment in Inkreal holds that the rules of jurisdiction in the Brussels I bis Regulation apply only where there is an element of internationality, for which it is sufficient that a purely domestic contract designates a court of another Member State as having jurisdiction, since such a situation “raises a question relating to the determination of international jurisdiction” (para. 24), it is also consistent with the approach underlying the Rome I Regulation. A sort of parallel may be drawn mutatis mutandis between that category and that of a situation “involving a conflict of laws” as regards the field of applicable law. Also, under the Rome I Regulation, in the different context of the applicable law, it is necessary to determine in which situations a foreign element is present, since the rules of the Rome I Regulation only apply “in situations involving a conflict of laws” (as stated in Article 1(1) and recently examined by the Court of Justice in its judgment of 14 September 2023, Diamond Resorts Europe and Others, C‑632/21, EU:C:2023:671, para. 51).

II. Objectives of Predictability and Legal Certainty in the Application of the Brussels I bis Regulation

The judgment highlights that making the application of Article 25 of the Brussels I bis Regulation subject to a finding that the contract has additional links (beyond the agreement conferring jurisdiction) with the Member State of the chosen court would undermine the objective of legal certainty and predictability. It would make it difficult for the designated court before which the action is brought to determine its jurisdiction and increase the risk of parallel proceedings and irreconcilable judgments (paras. 27 to 31).

Although the lis pendens rules of the Brussels I bis Regulation would significantly reduce the risk of parallel proceedings, there is no doubt that the requirement to identify additional elements capable of demonstrating the cross-border impact of the dispute would constitute a significant factor of uncertainty. Illustrative in that respect was the list of potential international elements in addition to the jurisdiction agreement contained in the third of the questions referred for a preliminary ruling in case C-136/16 in relation to the swap contracts at issue. Such elements included the fact that foreign companies were invited to submit proposals to participate in the contracts, that one of the parties is owned by a foreign entity, that under the terms of the contract the parties may transfer their rights and obligations to subsidiaries in other countries, that the contracts at issue had certain connections to contracts concluded with foreign entities, etc.

Moreover, hypothetically, it should be noted that if it had been decided that Article 25 of the Brussels I bis Regulation requires additional factors of internationality to be applied, a particularly broad interpretation in the context of the Union would have been justified. The outcome in practice might not be very different from that resulting from the new judgment.

For example, why would the following not be sufficient connections. First, the mere fact that for one of the parties the contract in question has connections to a different international contract which are relevant to that party. Second, the fact that one of the contracting parties belongs to a group of companies with connections to the Member State in which the designated court is located (for instance, this seemed to be the situation -perhaps with some additional elements- in the notorious El Majdoub judgment, concerning a contract between parties domiciled in Germany with a jurisdiction clause in favour of a court in Leuven (Belgium), see paras 10, 13 and 16 of CJEU Judgment of 21 May 2015, El Majdoub, C‑322/14, EU:C:2015:334).

III. Significance of EU Private International Law rules as an Instrument of Integration 

The broad scope of Article 25 Brussels I bis Regulation is also justified by the Court of Justice as reflecting mutual trust in the administration of justice within the Union and contributing to the development of an area of freedom, security and justice (para. 35). Indeed, the development of civil judicial cooperation within the Union, based on the principle of mutual recognition of judgments, has led to the creation of a judicial area, many elements of which are closer to the treatment of purely internal situations than to strictly international ones. This is reflected, for example, in the contrast between the treatment of situations in which lis pendens arises between Member States of the Union and those concerning parallel litigation in a Member State and a third State.

The criterion adopted in Inkreal is a further step in this direction of overcoming state borders, which is projected onto areas where party autonomy prevails and the choice of the courts of a Member State without any apparent connection with the dispute will typically respond to the legitimate interests of the parties. In practice, moreover, the choice of a court of that other Member State will normally go hand in hand with the choice of its law as the law applicable to the contract. As regards the position of the Member State in which all other elements of the contract are located, Article 3(3) of the Rome I Regulation will be relevant. According to that provision, the choice of law (and court) by the parties does not prejudice the application of provisions of the law of that other country which cannot be derogated from by agreement. Consequently, the mandatory rules applicable to the contract will be those of the Member State where all the other elements relevant to the contract are located and not those of the Member State whose courts adjudicate the case and whose law has been chosen by the parties (without prejudice, of course, to the effectiveness of the mandatory rules under Article 9 of the Rome I Regulation).

Given the specificity of the Union’s integration framework, and the particular scope of judicial cooperation in civil matters, the Court is justified in expressly rejecting that the provisions of the 2005 Hague Convention on Choice of Court Agreements should constitute a point of reference in the interpretation of Article 25 of the Brussels I bis Regulation. Pursuant to Article 1(1) of the Convention, its jurisdiction rules only apply either if the parties are not resident in the same State, or if some element relevant to the dispute other than the location of the chosen court has a connection with some other State (see “Explanatory Report” by T. Hartley and M. Dogauchi, paras. 41-43).

Hence, the broad interpretation of Article 25 of the Brussels I a Regulation and its application to purely domestic contracts does not apply to jurisdiction agreements designating the courts of a third State, even if it is a State with which the Union and its Member States are bound by the 2005 Hague Convention on Choice of Court Agreements. Nor does it apply directly in situations where the effectiveness of jurisdiction agreements in favour of a third State is governed by the domestic law of the Member State seised.

Concluding remarks

Unlike in case C-136/16, Sociedade Metropolitana de Desenvolvimento, the Court was not requested in Inkreal to clarify if the application of such a jurisdiction agreement may be waived where the choice of the courts of a Member State other than that of the nationality of the parties causes serious inconvenience for one of those parties and the other party has no good reason to justify such choice. However, the reasoning by the Court seems to support the view that within the specific framework of the Brussels I bis Regulation (and its interplay with the Rome I Regulation) such a concern is of limited significance. This is without prejudice that the possible review of the regulatory framework in order to provide certain protection to small or medium-sized enterprises in a position of contractual imbalance against choice of forum agreements unilaterally imposed on them, is an issue that merits special attention. In any event, such protection would be especially necessary with regard to jurisdiction agreements in favour of the courts of a third State, which in principle fall outside the scope of the Brussels I Regulation.

— This post is based on the post published in Spanish by the author on 8 February 2024, and a short case comment to be published in the journal La Ley Unión Europea.

This is the second contribution to the EAPIL Online Symposium on Inkreal. The first contribution was written by Sergi Gimenez. 


As reported earlier on this blog, the CJEU ruled in Inkreal s.r.o. v. Dúha reality s.r.o. (Case C‑566/22) that Article 25 of the Brussels I bis Regulation applies to clauses stipulated in domestic contracts if such clauses provide for the jurisdiction of the court of another Member State.

The CJEU held that domestic contracts providing for the jurisdiction of the court of another Member State have, for that reason alone, an international element which suffices to trigger the application of the Brussels I bis Regulation in general and Article 25 in particular. The clause is thus validated and effective.

Geert van Calster is delighted about this excellent judgment, that Pedro de Miguel Asensio and Matthias Weller also welcome. I disagree.

International Element Required?

The judgment recalls that an international element is required to trigger the application of the Brussels I bis Regulation. The Brussels I bis Regulation was adopted on the basis of Article 81 of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union, which gives competence “in civil matters having cross-border implications”. As a result, the court ruled in Owusu that there should be an international element to trigger the application of the Regulation.

The CJEU finds that an international element exists in this case for two reasons. The first is that the proceedings were initiated in a another Member State. The second is the jurisdiction clause itself, which designates a foreign court.

Both of these elements are purely subjective, insofar as they are the result of the will of the parties. Party autonomy suffices to create the international element. And, indeed, the will of a single party, the plaintiff, seems to suffice, as the initiation of the proceedings in another State is deemed sufficient. In this respect, the court relies on the definition of cross border litigation in the European Order of Payment Regulation which refers to the initiation of the proceedings in another Member State. But in the context of the Brussels I Bis Regulation, what really matters is party autonomy and the provision of a jurisdiction clause. In the absence of such a clause, the application of the objective rules of jurisdiction will always grant jurisdiction to the only Member State connected with the dispute, irrespective of where the proceedings were initiated. In contrast, enforcing jurisdiction clauses could be a real game changer.

Adopting subjective criteria such as the inclusion of a jurisdiction clause suggests that, although it cannot rule that the Regulation applies to domestic disputes, the court is ready to interpret the cross border implications test as broadly as possible, so that it can, in effect, extend the reach of the Regulation to domestic disputes.

So what will come next? What will be the other subjective criteria justifying the application of the Regulation and Article 25? Will it be enough for the parties to provide “this is an international contract” in the preamble of their contract? And what about remote objective criteria? For instance, what about the foreign grand parent of one of the local parties to the contract?

The End of the National Rules governing Jurisdiction Clauses?

Many member States have national rules limiting the enforceability of jurisdiction clauses in domestic disputes. In France, for instance, such clauses are only enforceable among certain categories of professional parties (‘commercial people’), and they need to be stipulated in “very apparent characters”.

After Inkreal, it will be possible to bypass those rules by providing, in domestic contracts, the jurisdiction of a Belgian or Luxembourg court. What is the legitimacy of the EU to disapply those rules? One could debate whether party autonomy should be promoted and local parties should always be allowed to choose their preferred court. But certain Member States have made the policy decision that choosing the competent court can have far reaching consequences, and party autonomy should only be allowed between sophisticated actors where it can be established that the parties made an informed choice. What is the legitimacy of the CJEU to cancel this policy decision?

Of course, one could think that national rules will remain applicable and prevent the same parties from including a similar clause providing for another city within the same Member State. But will they? Maybe not, if the parties insisted in their contract that they strongly feel that it is, or want it to be, an international contract.

Coherence with Hague Convention irrelevant

Interestingly, the 2005 Hague Convention on Choice of Court Agreements provides that it only applies to international cases, which are defined objectively:

Art. 1 (2) For the purposes of Chapter II, a case is international unless the parties are resident in the same Contracting State and the relationship of the parties and all other elements relevant to the dispute, regardless of the location of the chosen court, are connected only with that State.

The Court, however, rules that the same definition is not found in the Brussels I bis Regulation, and that there is no reason to seek a coherent interpretation. Instead, as already mentioned, the court prefers to seek coherence with the European Order for Payment Regulation, because it relates to judicial cooperation in civil matters. But is it really convincing, given that this regulation does not include any rule validating party autonomy?

Irrespective of these poor contextual arguments, the result is disastrous. For parties and lawyers providing for jurisdiction clauses (and choice of law clauses) in international contracts, it is critical to avoid developing different legal regimes and to interpret the relevant instruments (Brussels I bis, Rome I, 2005 Hague Convention) coherently whenever it is possible. Most practitioners have a hard time understanding some of the most basic concepts of private international law. They do not need these extra subtleties.

On 8 February 2024, the CJEU ruled in Inkreal s.r.o. v. Dúha reality s.r.o. (Case C‑566/22) that Article 25 of the Brussels I bis Regulation applies to clauses stipulated in domestic contracts if such clauses provide for the jurisdiction of the court of another Member State.

Most early commentators have welcomed this judgment, including Geert van Calster, Pedro de Miguel Asensio and Matthias Weller.

The Advocate General, however, had opined differently. Should Inkreal be praised for promoting party autonomy? Should it be criticised, instead, for extending the reach of EU law beyond its competence?

In the coming days, the EAPIL Blog will host an online symposium on Inkreal. Readers interested in participating should contact the editors of the blog (blog@eapil.org), or directly comment on the posts in the symposium.

Regulation (EU) 2023/2844 on the digitalisation of judicial cooperation and access to justice in cross-border civil, commercial and criminal matters, and amending certain acts in the field of judicial cooperation, also knowns as the “Digital Justice” Regulation, was adopted on 13 December 2023 (see already here on the Regulation proposal, here on the text negotiations and here on the new text).

General Background

This Regulation constitutes an important step in the EU commitment to modernise cross-border proceedings in the European judicial area, in accordance with the “digital by default” principle. For the record, this principle means that delivering services digitally is the preferred option through a single contact point. In the judicial context, it applies to digital communication between authorities and litigants. It aims to improve the efficiency of exchanges and reduce costs and administrative burden. At the same time, this digital shift implies that all the necessary safeguards must be put in place to prevent social exclusion of certain litigants, while ensuring mutual trust between authorities, interoperability and the security of processes and data.

The “Digital Justice” Regulation seeks to find this difficult balance by establishing a uniform legal framework for the use of electronic communications between, on the one hand, the competent authorities in cross-border legal proceedings and, on the other, between these authorities and the parties. The Regulation also provides for harmonised provisions relating to the use of videoconferencing, the application of electronic signatures, the legal effects of electronic documents and the electronic payment of fees.

The Regulation builds on the increasingly  dense “digital acquis” in EU law, starting with the protection of personal data (i.e. GDPR and its extension to EU bodies), the eDIAS Regulation on electronic identification and trust services for electronic transactions and, more specifically in the area of judicial cooperation, the deployment of the e-CODEX system in the field of judicial cooperation in civil and criminal matters, the management of which has just been transferred to eu-LISA. This complex “regulatory web” dealing with the digitalisation of human and economic exchanges in the Union can no longer be ignored by legal practitioners and will have to be articulated with the e-Justice Regulation.

Scope of the Regulation
Cross-border Cooperation in Civil and Criminal Matters

The Regulation lays down provisions on the digital exchanges of information which are intended to apply to cross-border proceedings in civil, commercial and criminal matters.

This material scope is quite remarkable, since until now the regulatory framework of judicial cooperation in the Union has developed in a differentiated and even hermetic manner between its civil component (Article 81 TFEU) and its criminal component (Article 82 seq. TFEU). Digitalisation marks a turning point in favour of the unification of the European judicial area, initiated with the e-CODEX Regulation, which is meant to constitute one of its structural (digital) dimensions. Indeed, digitalisation is a common issue relevant for the various forms of justice (and, more broadly, for public services and administrations). It is therefore welcome that the EU legislator has adopted a unified regulatory framework in this area. From an academic perspective, it should encourage scholars to look beyond their discipline – (EU) civil or criminal justice – to enhance cross-cutting analyses of the EU judicial area as a whole.

As far as private international law is concerned, Annex I of the Regulation includes most of the instruments adopted in the field of judicial cooperation in civil matters, with the exception of the “Rome” (I, II, III) Regulations dedicated to conflicts of laws and the Service of Documents and Taking of Evidence Regulations, which were already modernised in 2020 to incorporate the digital procedural dimension (see here and here).

Interplay Between EU Judicial Cooperation Acquis and e-Justice Regulation

The “Digital Justice” Regulation shall be understood as an instrument for “upgrading” the legal framework of EU judicial cooperation in its digital dimension. How does it work? Among all instruments adopted as part of EU policy on judicial cooperation in civil and in criminal matters, the implementation of those relating to cross-border proceedings triggers the “complementary” application of the new Regulation. In that respect, the Annex to the Regulation contains a list of the instruments concerned (Annex I in civil matters and Annex II in criminal matters). This means that the tools and channels for digitalising judicial cooperation provided for in the Regulation are intended to apply in the context of cross-border proceedings based on one or more of these listed instruments. The internationality criterion of the judicial proceedings in question will thus depend on the definition adopted by each instrument concerned.

By contrast, more recent (and future) EU instruments in civil and criminal matters do not (will not) fall within the scope of the e-Justice Regulation since they (will) develop their own digital-related provisions – as illustrated by the Taking of Evidence Regulations in civil matters and in criminal matters or de lege ferenda by the Regulation Proposal on the Protection of Adults –Eventually, the long-term objective of the EU legislator is to establish a judicial cooperation digitalised “by design” in the European area; and that will require strong commitment and concrete changes – in particular at the technical and administrative level – for the judicial systems of Member States.

Temporal implementation

It will certainly comfort legal practitioners and judicial actors to briefly mention the timeframe for implementing the new Regulation: this will be very gradual and will take several years. In principle, the Regulation will be applicable in spring 2025. However, as far as the provisions on electronic communications are concerned, the date of application of the new provisions depends on the implementing Acts that the European Commission will adopt to organise the future structural channels of digital interactivity between authorities and between authorities and litigants. To this end, a staggered timetable (from n+2 years to n+5 years) has been set for the adoption of several successive implementing Acts aimed respectively at one or other of the texts listed in the Annex. All in all, it will take until 2031 (according to a rough calculation) for the entire legal framework to be fully operational.

Main Innovations for Cross-border e-Justice
Electronic Communication Networks

In terms of technical innovations, the Regulation sets up a uniform legal framework for digital exchanges of information via the Internet or another electronic communications network. The Regulation establishes two information channels for such electronic communications: first, a decentralised IT system to handle exchanges between the competent authorities (including relevant EU bodies) and, second, a European electronic access point for litigants to interact with the competent authorities. It is for the European Commission to specify, through implementing acts, the content of these two information channels. In addition, the Commission is in charge of developing “reference implementation software” so that Member States can adopt it, on a voluntary basis, as their back-end system, in place of a national IT system. It will also be responsible for maintaining the software as well as the European electronic access point. These are major technical and legal responsibilities for the Commission vis-à-vis national judicial systems; they may invite to reflect on the strategic positioning of this institution in the EU institutional architecture.

Decentralised IT system — The first channel for electronic communications will consist of national IT systems with interoperable access points, interconnected via the pan-European computerised communication system e-CODEX. The decentralised IT system should be used “as a matter of principle” for all exchanges between competent authorities in different Member States and between a competent national authority and an EU body or agency. This could be a court (e.g. for small claims procedures), a central authority (e.g. under the Brussels II ter Regulation) or an EU body or agency involved in judicial cooperation procedures in criminal matters, such as Eurojust. The decentralised computer system will in particular have to be used for the exchange of standard forms established by the instruments listed in the Annex.

Other means of electronic communication may be used by way of derogation only, in the event of disruption of the decentralised system, force majeure or because of the nature of the documents to be transmitted.

European electronic access point — The second digital communication channel is an innovation for civil litigants: the European electronic access point. It will be accessible from the European e-Justice portal and may be seen as a counterpart to the Single Digital Gateway for cross-border administrative procedures (including the cross-border circulation of public documents). It should in theory govern electronic exchanges between litigants and the competent authorities in all the cases provided for by the instruments listed in Annex I to the Regulation. This could involve making requests, sending and receiving information relevant to proceedings or being served with procedural documents. In that respect, Article 4 of the Regulation should be of particular interest to legal practitioners, as it offers a “systematic mapping” of the different scenarios for cross-border communication in the light of the instruments of judicial cooperation in civil matters listed in Annex I. In those scenarios, the competent authorities may have to accept electronic communication.

In order to make this work in practice, the Regulation requires Member States to train legal staff in these new digital channels. This is essential and will require an excellent understanding of the issues of accessibility, personal data protection and cyber security, both by practitioners and, more broadly, by public authorities.

Unlike the decentralised IT system, which responds to the digital by default principle, litigants will have to give their prior consent to enter into a dematerialised communication exchange with the national authorities of a Member State. In case of refusal, this should mean that the exchange will take place via “traditional” communication channels. Nothing is specified by the Regulation, as this is a matter for national law. In the long term, however, it is questionable whether this choice will always be possible, particularly in those Member States that have already made or well advanced the digital transition of their justice system. As a matter of fact, there are major disparities between Member States, including in terms of local territories and population, which could create gaps between the (requesting and requested) authorities for cross-border judicial cooperation.

Legal Effects of Electronic Communications and Documents

The Regulation makes several references on the legal effects of the digitalisation of judicial cooperation and, more specifically, of its communications aspect. The sensitive point here relates to the potential influence of the digital format on the legal value of the document as “data flow”. The Regulation recalls that the rules governing cross-border judicial procedures established by the legal acts listed in the Annex are not affected, apart from the digital communication dimension of the new framework. In particular, the national law of the Member States continues to govern questions relating to the authenticity, accuracy and appropriate legal form of documents or information that will transit through the new digital channels.

A contrario, digitised exchanges must not deprive electronic documents of legal effects. This is provided for in Article 8 of the Regulation, which is a well-known provision as it already appears in other European instruments in digital matters: “Documents transmitted by electronic means shall not be deprived of legal effect and shall not be considered inadmissible in cross-border legal proceedings concerning the legal acts listed in Annexes I and II solely on the ground that they are in electronic form”.

Cross-border Justice by Videoconference

The Regulation also organises the use of videoconferencing for hearings of persons in cross-border judicial proceedings listed in the Annex. The European legal acquis already contains provisions on the use of videoconferencing on an optional basis or subject to the existence of technical tools within the authorities concerned. The same rationale is followed by the Regulation, so there is no obligation. The promoters of digital justice may regret this, but the Regulation nevertheless provides that the use of videoconferencing may not be refused by the authorities of a Member State “solely on account of the non-existence of national rules governing the use of distance communication technology. In such a case, the most appropriate rules applicable under national law, such as rules on the taking of evidence, should apply mutatis mutandis” (Rec. 33). This voluntary and incentive-based approach is certainly justified, in order to take account of the disparities between national legal systems in terms of their level of digitalisation and, in the case of criminal proceedings, because of the great vulnerability of the individuals concerned by the proceedings, which digital communications may increase.

Concluding Remarks

 The “Digital Justice” Regulation is an important step in the structuring of cross-border digital justice in the Union and paves the way for a (new) European “digital judicial culture”. In that respect, the Regulation leaves the Member States room for manoeuvre by allowing them to extend its scope to purely domestic judicial procedures – i.e. outside the EU competence based on Articles 81 and 82 TFEU –. This is of great significance since digitalisation blurs the boundaries between internal and international proceedings. The EU cross-border digital Justice should therefore have a long-term impact on national judicial systems of the Member States. But to succeed, major changes will be needed in national justice systems (as recently highlighted by the new e-Justice Strategy). In this context, a solid dialogue with legal and judicial practitioners will be central as well as keeping the “big picture” of digitalisation in mind, starting with the crucial issues of the digital divide, the protection of personal data and cybersecurity in relation to Article 47 of the EU Charter.

Mayotte : besoin urgent de personnel médical au sein de la plus grande ...An unintended consequence of the war in Ukraine is that a number of Ukrainian surrogate mothers have travelled to other countries to give birth.

The French press has reported that surrogate mothers who had entered into agreements with French residents were repatriated to France to give birth there.

The problem is that surrogacy is prohibited in France. This is why the French Court of Cassation initially ruled that the entire enterprise aimed at evading French law, and that the parenthood resulting from the surrogacy should thus be denied recognition in France. But, as readers will know, the ECtHR ruled that this result violates the child’s right to respect for private life within the meaning of Article 8 of the European Convention on Human Rights.

Does the fact that the birth takes place in France as opposed to a country where surrogacy is legal change anything?

Establishing Parenthood

The first problem arising in this case scenario is that French law (obviously) does not establish the parenthood of the intended mother and cancel the parenthood of the surrogate mother. Quite to the contrary, if a Ukrainian woman gives birth in France, she is automatically the mother.

As a consequence, the intended parents put in place the following scheme:

  1. The intended (and typically biological) father recognised the child before birth, in accordance with French law and before a French authority.
  2. The surrogate mother gave birth after declaring that she does not want to be on record and wants to remain anonymous. This is allowed under French law, and should normally lead to the child being adopted by one of the many couples waiting for this. But here, the father is known.
  3. The partner of the father, typically the intended mother, files an application to adopt the child.
Is This Still a Foreign Surrogacy?

An interesting question is whether one could still claim that the surrogacy was validly constituted abroad.

Two major differences between this case scenario and the more traditional one is that the birth occurred in a country were surrogacy is illegal, and that no foreign document establishes the parenthood of the intended mother. It is therefore difficult to say that the issue is one of ‘recognition’ of a foreign situation, or of a foreign official act.

But even if this is not so, which law should a French court apply to determine the validity of the surrogacy? To my knowledge, this is an issue of first impression, but one would tend to think that the choice of law rule applicable to parenthood should be applied. This would lead, in France, to the application of the national law of the mother. Although the relevant provision does not define the concept of mother, it seems clear that the French lawmaker had in mind the biological mother. Thus, Ukrainian law might apply, and the surrogacy might be foreign irrespective of where the birth took place.

The next steps of the reasoning would then be whether the result would comport with French public policy, and whether you would need to determine separately the applicable law to the parenthood of the intended parent.

Does it Matter?

Maybe not, at least from the perspective of PIL.

The European Court of Human Rights has repeatedly insisted that the fundamental right of the children demand some form of acceptance of surrogacy. And it does not seem that the court has limited the scope of this right to cases where the surrogacy was validly constituted abroad.

Why should it, after all? The problem of the children is not fundamentally different if the parents acted illegally.

What about Criminal Law?

The issue might be different from the perspective of criminal law. It is easier to argue that a surrogacy eventually resulting in a birth in France falls within the territorial scope of French criminal law than a surrogacy organised from France by the intended parents.

The French press has reported that a French organisation has informed prosecutors in five different cities, and that one prosecutor has initiated criminal investigations in one of them. There are a number of French criminal offences which might apply to the process of surrogacy: “provocation à l’abandon d’enfant”, “entremise entre un couple et une personne acceptant de porter l’enfant”,substitution volontaire, simulation ou dissimulation ayant entraîné une atteinte à l’état civil d’un enfant”.

The prosecutor, however, closed the case in October 2023. Remarkably, he did so on the ground that the surrogacy was “carried out” in a country where it is legal, and that the constitutive elements of the offences had thus taken place abroad. The French criminal code provides that it is enough that one constitutive element of the offence took place in France for French criminal law to apply. It is hard to see how the birth could not be one of the constitutive elements of all of these offences.

Is the case law of the ECtHR relevant in this context? Probably not: the criminal consequences of the actions of the parents will be personal, and will not directly affect the children.

Should French Social Security Pay for the Costs of the Delivery?

Two hospitals where Ukrainian surrogate mothers gave birth have sent an invoice to the intended parents for the costs of the delivery.

French social security covers the medical costs of birth for women entitled to such benefit. The French couples who organised Ukrainian surrogacies would likely be entitled to see most of the costs of their delivery being paid by social security, but not women covered by a foreign social security (although there might be rules for covering emergency birth on French territory: comments from specialists of international social security law welcome).

Several French intended parents have refused to pay the invoice, and have announced that they will challenge the decision of the hospitals to issue the invoices in administrative courts. Will French courts accept that evasion of French law should be funded by French taxpayers?

In a recent article, Pedro de Miguel Asensio points to a seeming contradiction at the heart of EU consumer law (see La Ley – Unión Europea, issue 116/2023, soon available here). This contradiction concerns the notion of consumer in the rules of substantive consumer law and in EU Private International Law (PIL). The CJEU has constructed in both areas differently.

The Notion ‘Consumer’ in Substantive EU Law

For substantive consumer law, the Court adopts a very wide notion of the consumer, in principle also covering contracts concluded for a dual private and commercial purpose. Consumer protection is excluded only where the commercial purpose predominates the private one (see e.g. in the context of the Unfair Terms Directive CJEU Case C-570/21 I.S. and K.S. v YYY. S.A., para 53).

The Notion ‘Consumer’ in EU PIL

In the context of PIL, in contrast, the CJEU defines ‘consumer’ much more narrowly. Regarding the special provisions of the Brussels I Regulation for the protection of consumers, it has held that they must be interpreted strictly and, in principle, do not apply in case of dual use (see CJEU Case C-464/01 Gruber v Bay Wa, para 39). It would be otherwise only where the link between the contract and the trade or profession of the person concerned was ‘so slight as to be marginal’ (ibid). One must follow Pedro de Miguel when he submits that this narrow interpretation needs to be extended to the Rome I Regulation as another instrument of EU PIL as well (see Recital 7 Rome I).

Divergences Cause Distortions

As a result of these divergences, a contract may be a consumer contract for the purposes of substantive law and a professional or commercial contract for the purposes of PIL. Pedro de Miguel frets that this may give rise to certain ‘distortions’. For instance, in the Lyoness case (commented here), it was questionable whether terms in a cross-border contract were abusive in the sense of the Unfair Terms Directive. Even if this were the case and EU substantive law applied, one could not be sure that the consumer could vindicate the protections of the Directive in a Member State court. After all, the special protective heads of jurisdiction for consumer actions under the Brussels Ibis Regulation are to be interpreted more narrowly than those of the Unfair Terms Directive (see also for the possibility of a waiver of the consumer status under the Brussels Ibis Regulation the comment by Marion Ho-Dac here).

The Impact of Choice-of-Court Clauses

Pedro de Miguel brings the problem to a head with the hypothetical example of a contract with an unfair term that also contains a choice-of-court clause in favour of a non-Member State court, e.g. a Swiss court. In this case, the Member States’ courts would have to decline jurisdiction if the EU resident had pursued more than a marginal professional or commercial purpose with the contract. This evidently undermines the goals of the Unfair Terms Directive, which most certainly would not be given effect by third country courts where their general PIL rules do not lead to a Member State law. Pedro de Miguel denounces this as a hole in the EU consumer protection rules.

Attempting an Explanation

The seeming incoherence between EU substantive and Private International Law may have quite a simple reason. In its substantive law, the EU is free to take consumer protection to an extreme level, covering also contracts that serve up to 49 % a professional or commercial purpose. However, on the international plane, the EU policy clashes with that of other regions or states that follow a much more restricted concept of the consumer. In light of these divergences, it may be advisable to not fully follow the EU consumer protection policy through in order to avoid quarrels with third country courts over jurisdiction or the non-recognition and/or enforcement of Member State judgments.

Comparison with Convention Law

However, the wider notion of the consumer of EU substantive law is seemingly in line with the Hague Choice-of-Court Convention and the Hague Judgments Convention. Both contain special rules for contracts concluded by a consumer (see Art 2(1)(a) Hague Choice-of-Court Convention and Art 5(2) Hague Judgments Convention), and define the consumer as a person acting ‘primarily’ for personal, household or family purposes. This wording of ‘primarily’ seems to be more in line with the extensive definition of the consumer in EU substantive law than with the restrictive of EU PIL.

However, one must also pay attention to the notion ‘for personal, household or family purposes’, which is in fact much more restrictive than both EU notions. The latter apply whenever a contract is concluded outside a trade or profession, never mind whether it is for personal, household or family or for other purposes, e.g. a speculative investment or saving for retirement. One may thus say that the convention strikes a middle ground between the wide and the narrow consumer notion. Without venturing into an analysis of the compatibility of the Brussels Ibis Regulation’s rules with the Hague Conventions, one can say that the latter do not support an extreme version of consumer protection.

Conclusion

The definition of the ‘consumer’ in EU substantive law differs from that in EU PIL. This may mean that EU citizens and residents do not get the full benefit of the Union’s substantive law when they go abroad. But this may be a price worth paying for international harmony and avoiding quarrels with other states.

— Thanks to Paul Eichmüller for reviewing this post.

The post below was written by Giuditta Cordero-Moss, who is a Professor at the Department for Private Law, University of Oslo. It is the sixth and concluding contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the English Law Commission’s proposed reform of the law governing arbitration agreements. The other posts are written by Alex Mills, Manuel Penades, George Bermann, Sylvain Bollée and Matthias Lehmann.

Readers are encouraged to participate in the discussion by commenting on the posts. 


In this online symposium, we addressed one particular aspect of the Final Report on the Review of the Arbitration Act 1996 rendered by the Law Commission of England and Wales: the choice of the law applicable to the arbitration agreement.  The Law Commission recommends reversing the law as stated in the known UK Supreme Court decisions Enka (Enka v Chubb [2020] UKSC 38), and Kabab-Ji (Kabab-Ji SAL (Lebanon) v Kout Food Group (Kuwait) [2021] UKSC 48). Among other things, these decisions established that the choice of law made by the parties in their commercial contract applies also to the arbitration agreement.

Arbitration agreements are often contained in an arbitration clause which is part of a larger contract regulating the commercial relationship between the parties (which the Law Commission defines as the “matrix contract”, and I refer to as the “main contract”). Often, the main contract contains, in addition to the arbitration clause, a choice of law clause subjecting the contract to a certain law. The question is whether the choice of law made by the parties for the main contract also covers the arbitration clause. According to the Supreme Court, it does; according to the Law Commission, it does not.

In the Law Commission’s Final Report, the law chosen by the parties for the main contract applies to the arbitration clause only if it was expressly and specifically also made for the arbitration agreement. Failing an express and specific choice, the Report recommends that the arbitration agreement be subject to the law of the place of arbitral seat. This default rule is aligned with the New York Convention provision in article V(1)(a) and with the UNCITRAL Model Law provision in article 34(2)(a)(i), and will not be commented any further here, other than to commend the Law Commission for having recommended a clear rule harmonised with international sources.

The spirit of the reform is clear: party autonomy is respected, but subject to the principle of severability – although Manuel Penades points out in his post that the wording suggested by the Law Commission may give rise to some uncertainties.

The recommendation’s rationale is explained in sections 12.17-20 of the Final Report: the aim is to give a clear rule and to align the law applicable to the arbitration agreement with the law applicable to the arbitral procedure – which, incidentally, permits to apply English law to arbitration agreements that are to be performed in England.

A Restriction to Party Autonomy?

There is a general acceptance that the arbitration agreement may be subject to a law different from that governing the main agreement (see, for France, Cour de cassation, 28 September 2022, n° 20-20.260 (Kabab-Ji); for Sweden, ; for Germany,  BGH 26 November 2020, I-ZR 245/19 (Mace-Flower)). However, opinions diverge on the effects for the arbitration agreement of a choice of law contained in the main contract and that does not specifically refer to the arbitration agreement.

Alex Mills argues in his post that the Law Commission does not persuasively explain why the policies mentioned in the Report should trump the principle of party autonomy. Likewise, George Bermann finds that the law chosen by the parties should be given respect even though it does not specifically mention the arbitration agreement.

The question is, however, whether the Law Commission’s proposal represents a restriction of party autonomy. If the parties to a contract subject to the law of Ruritania decide to submit disputes between them to arbitration in England, are they more likely to expect that their arbitration agreement is subject to the law of Ruritania or to the law of England?

The arbitration agreement is the source of the arbitral tribunal’s powers. Subjecting it to the law applicable to the arbitral proceedings may turn out to be more compatible with the parties’ expectations than a scenario in which the law of Ruritania has a say on the existence and scope of the arbitral tribunal’s powers in an arbitration that, according to the parties’ choice, is to be carried out in England.

Severability and Choice of Law

The arbitration agreement is to be deemed a separate agreement, even where it is a clause within the main contract. This is confirmed, i.a., in article 16(1) of the UNCITRAL Model Law.

Without falling into excessive dogmatism, as correctly warned against in the post by Matthias Lehmann, the principle of severability has important practical consequences.

The purpose of severability is to preserve the integrity of the arbitration agreement; if there were no severability, any issues relating to the existence, validity or termination of the contractual relationship would affect the arbitration agreement. Questioning the validity of the contract would be sufficient to affect the whole basis of the arbitral process in which the contract’s validity is an issue. The question is how far severability reaches: does it cover only the validity of the arbitration agreement, or also its applicable law?

George Bermann correctly assumes, in his post, that parties who choose the arbitration seat only choose the arbitration law of that country. He concludes that rules on the arbitration agreement fall outside of this choice. Arguably, however, the arbitration law covers also questions relating to the arbitration agreement and its effects – both the New York Convention and the UNCIRAL Model Law, to name two examples, have rules precisely on this, and there is no doubt that they can be defined as arbitration law. By choosing the seat for their arbitral proceedings and the arbitration law applicable to them, therefore, parties may well have expected that their choice would cover also questions regarding the arbitration agreement.

The UK Supreme Court argues in Enka that the arbitration clause should be dealt with like any other clause in the agreement. Surprisingly, instead of concluding that the parties’ choice of law consequently directly applies to the arbitration clause, the majority in Enka states that choice of law for the main agreement amounts to an implied choice of law for the arbitration agreement. According to the minority, this choice creates a presumption that the law was chosen also for the arbitration agreement.

The Law Commission correctly points out in sections 12.34-38 that this reasoning lacks internal logic: if the arbitration agreement is a clause like any other clause in the main contract, shouldn’t the parties’ choice of law be deemed to be an expressed choice of law, just like it is for any other cause of the contract? Why is it defined as implied, or presumed? The severability principle prevents drawing a full equivalence of the arbitration agreement with any other clauses of the contract; but an implicit, or presumed, equivalence, is assumed after all.

A comparative view supports the Law Commission’s proposal.

Indirectly, some of the most arbitration-friendly national arbitration laws confirm that the law chosen by the parties for the main contract not necessarily is the law governing the arbitration agreement: Article 178(2) of the Swiss Private International Law Act, as well as Article 9(6) of the Spanish Arbitration Act, are based on the validation principle. According to these provisions, an arbitration agreement is valid if it complies with the requirements contained in (i) the law chosen by the parties to govern the arbitration agreement, (ii) the law applicable to the main contract, or (iii) the lex fori. If a choice of law for the main contract had the effect to select the law applicable to the arbitration agreement, it would not be necessary to list the law chosen by the parties as one of three alternatives.

Also under French law, the parties’ choice in the main agreement does not apply to the arbitration agreement – although this is the consequence of a special understanding of arbitration as an autonomous legal order, as Sylvain Bollée explains in his post.

According to Swedish courts, the principle of severability implies that the arbitration agreement is subject to the lex arbitri, irrespective of any choice the parties may have made for the main contract (Svea Court of Appeal, 20 May 2015, T 8043-13).

Indeed, it seems artificial to affirm that the validity of the arbitration agreement is to be examined separately, while the law applicable to the validity is the same as the law applicable to the main agreement. This does not to correspond to the practice of arbitration either.

Parties rarely specify the law governing their arbitration agreement. Usually, model Arbitration clauses recommended by arbitration institutions or, for ad hoc arbitration, by the UNCITRAL, do not contain a choice of law specific for arbitration either. The Model clauses may suggest adding which law governs the contract, but this applies to the merits of the dispute, not to the procedural aspects of the arbitration, as is confirmed by the wording suggested by the LCIA (‘The governing law of the contract shall be the substantive law of []’) and by the SCC (‘This contract shall be governed by the substantive law of […]’). By expressly mentioning the substance of the dispute, these rules arguably exclude that the choice applies to the arbitration agreement itself; and they are generally silent on the law applicable to the clauses themselves. In one instance, (Hong Kong), the model clause specifically suggests that the parties choose the law applicable to the arbitration clause, thus indirectly confirming that severability extends to choice of law.

In my opinion, the above supports extending severability to the applicable law, as the Law Commission recommends. It is compatible with the principle of severability, corresponds to the expectations in international practice, and favours harmonisation of English law with what has been defined as the preferred approach (Gary Born, International Commercial Arbitration 3rd edition, Kluwer Law International 2021, §4.04[A]).

Conclusion

The Law Commission approach is to be saluted. In addition to the practical and policy reasons it mentions, the proposal has the advantage of enhancing harmonization.

In a study carried out at the Hague Academy on the law applicable to various issues in arbitration (D. Fernández Arroyo and G. Cordero-Moss (eds.), Applicable Law Issues in International Arbitration, Brill 2023), one chapter is devoted precisely to the law applicable to arbitration agreements: Giulia Vallar, “Validity of the arbitration agreement”, pp. 325-346. Vallar suggests two main solutions to enhance predictability for the parties. One solution is readily available, but seldom applied: the parties should choose the applicable law in the arbitration agreement. The other, is defined by Vallar as utopistic: a uniform conflict rule.  While I agree with her skepticism about the feasibility of codifying a multilateral rule, I find it an acceptable second best solution that the different legal systems spontaneously adopt a harmonized solution.

The Law Commission recommendation is a step into the right direction.

The post below was written by Matthias Lehmann, who is Chair for Private Law, International Private Law and Comparative Law at the University of Vienna and an editor of the EAPIL blog. It is the fifth contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the English Law Commission’s proposed reform of the law governing arbitration agreements. The other posts are written by Alex Mills, Manuel Penades, George Bermann, Sylvain Bollée and Giuditta Cordero-Moss

Readers are encouraged to participate in the discussion by commenting on the posts. 


Legislative proposals from the British islands to correct the intricacies of the common law always fill the continental lawyer with joy. Yet interestingly, most of the questions that the Law Commission’s proposal to reform English arbitration law addresses are not dealt with explicitly by legislation but rather by court judgments on the continent. This is at least true for the two legal systems that I will survey in this post, German and Austrian law. Moreover, the case law of these two countries diverges in some very important respects from the Law Commission’s proposal.

The Law Governing the Arbitration Agreement
Respect for Party Autonomy

I start with the law governing the arbitration agreement. German and Austrian courts unanimously rule that the law governing the arbitration agreement can be chosen by the parties (see e.g. German Federal Court, 12 May 2011, IX ZR 133/10; Austrian Supreme Court, 23 June 2015, 18 OCg 1/15v). For this, they rely on the conflicts rule contained in Article V(1)(a) New York Convention for the Recognition and Enforcement of Foreign Arbitral Awards (NYC), which they extend per analogiam to the situation before an arbitration award has been rendered. This position is buttressed by Article 6(2) European Convention on International Commercial Arbitration of 1961, which explicitly allows to choose the law applicable to the arbitration agreement.

Choice for Main Contract = Choice for Arbitration Clause?

More difficult is whether a choice in the main contract can be extended to the arbitration agreement, as the UK Supreme Court held, but the Law Commission denies. This issue is moot in German and Austrian literature. The whole debate is impregnated by an unhealthy dose of dogmatism. It basically revolves around the separability of the arbitration agreement from the main contract and its ‘true nature’ – whether it is procedural or substantive.

The Austrian Supreme Court has left this question open (decision of 23 June 2015, 18 OCg 1/15v). The German Supreme Court, however, has cut the Gordian knot and explicitly ruled that a choice in the main contract is to be presumed to also cover the arbitration clause contained therein – at least absent any indications to the contrary (see German Federal Court, 12 May 2011, IX ZR 133/10, discussed here). You can call this an ‘implied choice’, although this expression was not used by the German court; it would probably be more correct to speak of a ‘presumed choice’.

The Impact of the CISG

A notable particularity in comparison to English law is caused by the fact that both Germany and Austria are signatories of the Convention for the International Sale of Goods (CISG). Although this Convention is geared towards sales contracts, the German Federal Court has held that its provisions concerning the formation of the contract (Articles 14–24 CISG) also apply when determining the validity of an arbitration clause contained in the sales contract (German Federal Court, id.). As a result, the question whether standard terms and conditions of one party which contain such a clause have become part of the contract will be governed by the CISG if the contract falls within its scope. Even where the parties have explicitly excluded the CISG, it may be relevant when courts determine whether German law provides a more favourable rule in the sense of Article VII NYC (German Federal Court, id.). To understand this viewpoint, it is necessary to realise that in the eyes of German (and Austrian) courts, the CISG is part of their domestic law, merely providing a special regime for international sales contracts.

The Impact of the Arbitral Seat

In case no law has been chosen – neither for the arbitration agreement nor for the main contract – German and Austrian courts refer to the law of the place of the seat of arbitration to determine the validity of an arbitration agreement (see German Federal Court, id., para 52; Austrian Supreme Court 18 OCg 1/15v). For this, they rely again on Article V(1)(a) NYC per analogiam; with Article 6(2) European Convention on International Commercial Arbitration of 1961 being even more to the point. In this respect, both legal systems converge with the suggestions of the Law Commission.

The Fall-Back Rule

A difficult question is which law governs the arbitration agreement when the applicable law has not been chosen and the seat of the arbitration is yet to be determined. There is no case law in Austria or Germany on this issue yet.

Two solutions are discussed in literature. The first is to always apply the law of the forum of the state court that is facing the task to assess the validity of the arbitration clause, for instance when it is invoked as an exception to its jurisdiction. Yet, this lex forism has the evident downside of favouring diverging results and inviting forum shopping.

Therefore, the second solution is preferrable, which is to apply the law of the state with the closest connection to the arbitration agreement. This connection must be determined on the basis of all circumstances. Most authors understand this to be the law of the state that governs the merits of the case.

From an Austrian and German perspective, there is light and shadow in the Law Commission’s Proposals. The suggestion to lay down in statutory law the parties’ freedom to choose the law governing the arbitration agreement will be met with cheers. Equally, the role of the seat of the arbitral tribunal as a connecting factor in the absence of a choice is down the alley of German and Austrian law. In contrast, the decoupling of the law governing the main contract and that governing the arbitration agreement will raise some eyebrows, at least in Germany.

Verification of the Validity of the Arbitration Agreement by the Courts

But it is the exclusion of the review of the validity of the arbitration agreement by state courts that will be most frowned upon from Schleswig to the Danube. The Law Commission wants to exclude a de novo hearing when this issue has already been discussed and decided before by the arbitral tribunal (see the post by Ugljesa Grusic). The justification for this are efficiency and fairness.

Although German and Austrian courts are no less committed to these values, their position is entirely different. According to them, a party must always have the possibility to invoke a lack of consent to arbitration before a state court, regardless of whether this question was already debated before the arbitral tribunal or not. The famous concept of Kompetenz-Kompetenz developed by the German Federal Court does not imply otherwise. As the German Federal Court has said quite clearly:

“According to the mandatory provision of section 1041 (1) no. 1 ZPO [German Code of Civil Procedure before the reform of 1998, concerning the annulment of arbitral awards], the ordinary court has to examine the validity of the arbitration agreement without being bound by the decision of the arbitral tribunal. Since the arbitral tribunal, according to § 1025(1) ZPO [German Code of Civil Procedure before the reform of 1998, concerning the validity and effects of the arbitral agreement], obtains its jurisdiction solely through the arbitration agreement, it cannot itself make a binding decision on its legal existence. The so-called competence-competence, i.e. the power to make a binding decision on its jurisdiction for the state courts (or other authorities), is therefore not available to it.” (decision of 5 May 1977, III ZR 177/74)

This position, which is shared by Austrian courts (OGH, decision of 19 December 2018, 3 Ob 153/18y), is not merely the product of a particular legal thinking or culture. Instead, it seems to be required by the European Convention of Human Rights (ECHR). To bind a party to a decision of an arbitral tribunal to which it has not agreed would violate the right to a fair trial enshrined in Article 6 ECHR. In no case can efficiency prevail over this fundamental right. If the UK legislator retained the proposal by the Law Commission in this regard, it would create a permanent abyss between English law and that of other European states. This would certainly give rise to heated discussions and a possible recycling of the title of an old article: “What Sort of Kompetenz-Kompetenz has Crossed the Channel?”

— Many thanks to Paul Eichmüller for his assistance in researching the Austrian decisions.

The post below was written by Sylvain Bollée, who is Professor at Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne University. It is the fourth contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the English Law Commission’s proposed reform of the law governing arbitration agreements. The other posts are written by Alex Mills, Manuel Penades, George Bermann, Matthias Lehmann and Giuditta Cordero-Moss.

Readers are encouraged to participate in the discussion by commenting on the posts.  


For a French lawyer, the Law Commission’s proposal concerning the determination of the law governing the arbitration agreement is of particular interest. It comes a little less than a year after the decision rendered by the French Court of Cassation in the Koot Food Group case (Civ. 1st, 22 September 2022, No. 20-20.260), in which the French and English courts were notoriously divided on the contemplated issue.

Without going into the details of the solutions found in English case law, their key points can be summarized (albeit with a degree of approximation) – as follows: 1) the parties are free to choose the law applicable to the arbitration agreement; 2) a choice of law clause stipulated in the matrix contract will generally be held applicable to the arbitration agreement; 3) in the absence of any choice of law, the arbitration agreement will generally be governed by the law of the seat chosen by the parties.

In order to understand the French approach, it is important to bear in mind that it is primarily based on the rejection of any conflict-of-laws reasoning and, supposedly, the application of any national law to the arbitration agreement. French courts directly apply “substantive rules” (règles matérielles) which, to a large extent, seek to give effect to the parties’ common intent to submit their dispute to arbitration. In reality, this “substantive rules method” inevitably amounts to applying rules that are a creation of the French legal system. Thus, in the final analysis, it is not so much the application of legal rules from national sources that is set aside, but rather conflict-of-laws rules and all foreign laws (and also, at least in theory, the application of French law rules applicable to domestic situations). The Dalico judgment (Civ. 1st, 20 December 1993, No. 91-16.828), which is the landmark decision on the subject, does not bring this out so clearly. But that is indeed the methodological approach which, in principle, prevails before French courts. Obviously, the underlying policy is to favour the validation of arbitration clauses and, by implication, the enforcement of arbitral awards.

One question is whether the parties may still choose to submit their arbitration agreement to a foreign law. As a matter of principle, the French Court of Cassation has answered in the affirmative. But the existence of such an electio juris is not easy to establish: according to the terms of its judgment in Koot Food Group, “the parties must have expressly submitted the validity and effects of the arbitration agreement itself to such a law”. This entails that a choice of law clause stipulated in the matrix contract, with no specific indication as to its applicability to the arbitration agreement, will not be regarded as sufficient. As a result, the application of the substantive rules method will likely not be overturned in the vast majority of cases.

The Law Commission’s proposal would significantly narrow the gap between the English and French solutions. Of course, from a methodological point of view, there is still a profound divergence: the English approach does not deviate from conflict-of-laws reasoning in the first place, whereas the French approach only grants it a secondary role. But if one looks at the solutions in terms of their practical results, two points of convergence stand out.

The first is a strict limitation of the cases in which the existence of a choice of law clause applicable to the arbitration agreement will be deemed to be established. An express choice will be required, and it will not be sufficient to refer to the existence of a choice of law clause in the matrix contract.

This immediately gives rise to an objection: why exclude the possibility of an implied choice? If the arbitrator or the judge is convinced that the parties have implicitly agreed on the application of a certain law, is it not unfortunate that he or she is obliged to disregard this implicit choice? Of course, one should not be too quick to dismiss the prima facie advantages of the solution: it is expected to close the door to overly subtle discussions, costly litigation and, in the end, what is perceived as legal uncertainty. But can this objective really be achieved? Only to a limited extent, because the existence of an express choice might also be debated. My colleague Dr Manuel Penades rightly raised this point in his contribution and I will take one of his examples here: what will be decided in the case where the matrix contract contains both a choice of law clause the scope of which (as per its very wording) is “the Agreement”, and a clause that defines “the Agreement” as all the clauses contained in the contractual document (which, by hypothesis, will include the arbitration clause)? Commercial contracts regularly include such provisions and I suspect reasonable people might disagree about the existence of an express choice in the considered scenario.

Besides, it would seem to be in the nature of things that a choice of law clause included in the matrix contract should apply to the arbitration agreement, as long as it does not turn out that the parties intended otherwise. In this respect, it has been convincingly objected to the Law Commission’s proposal that it disregards the normal expectations of the parties (see the Final report, paras 12-32 et seq.). As a matter of fact, international contracts very often contain choice of law clauses, which tend to support the view that the parties are keen to settle the issue of applicable law themselves. At the same time, they generally say nothing specific about the law applicable to the arbitration clause. Why is that? Precisely, I believe, because they naturally assume that the choice of law clause they have inserted in the contract will also apply to the arbitration agreement. It is regrettable that the Law Commission’s proposal does not draw the consequences from this, all the more so as the application of two different laws – one to the matrix contract and the other to the arbitration clause – is not without practical disadvantages: it is likely to result in undesirable complexity, if not inconsistencies. This objection is not new and concerns about such a split in the applicable law were raised during the consultation process (see the second consultation paper, paras 2.66 and 2.67).

The second point of convergence between the Law Commission’s proposal and French law pertains to the case (which, in practice, is likely to be by far the most common) where the parties are deemed not to have expressly chosen the law applicable to the arbitration agreement. If the seat of the arbitration is in England, the English court will do what the French court would do in its place: it will apply its own law. In fact, this appears to be one of the main reasons why the Law Commission found it adequate to rule out the possibility of an implied choice: combined with the default rule in favour of the law of the seat, that solution is likely to ensure the applicability of English law in the contemplated situation and, correlatively, to protect the arbitration clause against the effects of a foreign law which might be less supportive of arbitration (see the Final report, paras 12-18, 12-72 and 12-73). Such a pro-arbitration attitude is also at the root of the French method of substantive rules and, arguably, the reluctance of French courts to acknowledge the existence of a choice of law clause which might submit the arbitration agreement to a foreign law.

This being said, French law goes much further in its policy of favouring the validity of arbitration agreements: its substantive rules method applies independently of any conflict of laws rule, so that the benefit of the pro-arbitration rules of French law is not restricted to arbitrations seated in France. The resonance of this approach is all the greater in the light of another aspect of French law: as shown by the decisions rendered in the well-known Hilmarton (Civ. 1st, 23 March 1994, No. 92-15.137) and Putrabali (Civ. 1st, 29 June 2007, No. 05-18.053) cases, the annulment of the award in the country of the seat does not constitute a ground for non-recognition in France. Thus, if the court of the seat of the arbitration, applying its own law, considered that the arbitral tribunal lacked jurisdiction, this will not prevent the French courts from granting exequatur to the award. The Law Commission’s proposal, as it provides for the application of the law of the seat even when it is located abroad, is a reminder that profoundly different conceptions of international arbitration prevail on either side of the Channel.

The post below was written by George A Bermann, who is Walter Gellhorn Professor of Law and Jean Monnet Professor of European Union Law at Columbia Law School. It is the third contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the English Law Commission’s proposed reform of the law governing arbitration agreements. The other posts are written by Alex Mills, Manuel Penades, Sylvain Bollée, Matthias Lehmann and Giuditta Cordero-Moss.

Readers are encouraged to participate in the discussion by commenting on the posts. 


The relationship between the law (if any) chosen in the arbitration clause and the law of the seat is unsettled in the US.

It was taken up in the Restatement of the US Law of International Commercial and Investor-State Arbitration. The gist of the Restatement is that, while the law of the seat governs the conduct of the arbitration, it does not govern the interpretation of the arbitration agreement. Interpretation of the arbitration agreement should of course be governed by the law, if any, chosen in the arbitration clause itself. (I note that the court in Enka v. Chubb cited the Restatement in support.)

There was debate over whether, in the absence of a choice of applicable law in the arbitration clause, the arbitration agreement should be governed by the law, if any, chosen in the main contract. The view that ultimately prevailed is that more respect on matters of choice of law should be given to any expression of preference as to choice of law in the contract (even if not in the arbitration clause) over the law of the seat. That was a choice of seat, not a choice of law (other than the law of arbitration of the seat).

Unfortunately, the Restatement drew no distinction between issues of the interpretation and the validity of the arbitration agreement. More on that below.

The Restatement did not go much further, but the thinking behind it can be amplified and extrapolated. I attempt to do so below. I hasten to add that what follows happens also to be what I think the law should be.

It is this framework that I would use in assessing the differences between US law and the law advanced by the Law Commission.

As a general matter, I believe that Report in some cases fails to make an important distinction and in other cases, acknowledges the distinction, but makes the wrong choice.

I set out below what I consider to be these important distinctions:

  1. Distinction between the purposes underlying a choice of law in the arbitration clause (absent which in the law of the main contract) and the purposes underlying a choice of law function of the arbitration law of the seat

When parties choose a seat, they are choosing a seat, full stop. We should not suppose they are choosing an applicable law of any kind other than the arbitration law of the seat (lex arbitri).

By contrast, when parties indicate an applicable law in their arbitration agreement they are making a choice of applicable law. But, absent an indication of an applicable law in the arbitration clause, where else did the parties express a choice of law preference? They expressed it in the choice of law clause in the main contract. There too they are making a choice of applicable law, and their choice of an applicable law should be respected.

  1. Distinction between the law of the arbitration agreement and the law of the main contract

This result should be unaffected by the principle of separability. The principle of separability exists for one reason: to ensure that the demise of the main contract (as invalid) does not entail the demise of its arbitration clause. That is why we have the separability principle. It should not be extended to functions (such as choice of law) for which it was not intended.

  1. Distinction between “arbitration law of the seat” and “law of the seat”

It is vital to distinguish between the arbitration law of a jurisdiction (lex arbitri) and the whole body of law at the seat, and we too often fail to do so by referring sloppily to “the law of the seat”. An arbitration statute should make clear what it is talking about when it refers to “the law of the seat.”

When the parties chose a seat they certainly chose the lex arbitri of the seat. But, notwithstanding, it seems to be assumed that when the law of the seat is referred to, it includes at least some parts of the law of the seat outside the lex arbitri. For example, if the formation or validity of an arbitration agreement is called into question, the law of the seat may include the law of contract of the seat. If contract law at the seat treats coerced contracts as invalid, then that would apply to a claim that the arbitration agreement was coerced.

  1. Distinction between the issues of interpretation and issues of validity

As I mentioned, the Restatement fails to distinguish between issues of interpretation and validity, but it should have.

The law chosen in an arbitration agreement most fundamentally determines the interpretation of that agreement (such as its scope). There is absolutely no reason why the law of the seat should have anything to say about the meaning and scope of the arbitration agreement. If there is no choice of law in the arbitration agreement, then interpretation of the arbitration agreement should be governed by the law chosen in the main contract (on the reasoning set out above).

The question of the validity of the arbitration agreement is slightly more subtle.

Suppose the arbitration agreement is invalid under the law, if any, designated in the arbitration agreement, failing which the law governing the main contract, then it is invalid. It should not matter that it happens to be valid under the law of the seat.

On the other hand, conversely, if the arbitration agreement is invalid under the law of the seat, it is invalid, even if it would be valid under the law, if any, designated in the arbitration agreement, failing which the law governing the main contract. Why? Because the seat has a legitimate interest in the validity of the arbitration agreement giving rise to an arbitration on its territory.

More generally, one should not assume that if the law of the arbitration agreement is not the law of the seat, the seat’s policies risk being impaired. But that is not the case. Under no circumstance can the law of the arbitration agreement or the law of the main contract override the mandatory norms of the arbitration law of the seat (or the public policy of the seat).

The approach set out here is of course contrary to the so-called “validation principle,” and deliberately so. The impetus is a belief that the law chosen by the parties (even that in the main contract) deserves a measure of respect, as does the law of the seat. More delineation should be given to the matter than is generally given. I believe it is sometimes assumed that, unless you give as much weight as you possibly can to the law of the seat, you are not pro-arbitration, which is not the case.

  1. Distinction between the mandatory and default law provisions of the lex arbitri

Focusing now on the lex arbitri, it contains both mandatory and default rules. Its mandatory law provisions (and principles of public policy at the seat more generally) must be respected. But its default rules can be contracted around by the parties.

How can parties contract around the arbitration law at the seat? Obviously parties can contract around default rules of the seat by a term of their arbitration agreement. But they should also be allowed to contract around the default rules of the seat via the law designated in the arbitration clause.

Whether they can contract around the default rules of the seat via the law governing the main contract will be more controversial, but, for the reasons set out above, they should be able to do so.

Thoughts on Specific Provisions of the Report and Recommendation
  1. 12.17: I do not share the view that subjecting an arbitration agreement to the law of the main contract is a threat to the UK as a seat. It is no more a threat than application of a law chosen in the arbitration clause itself; yet the Report allows the latter to apply in lieu of the law of the seat (sec. 12.17).
  2. 12.18, 12:47: The Report treats a choice of law clause in the main contract as only an “implied” choice of law for the arbitration agreement. Driving a wedge between the law designated in the arbitration agreement and the law designated in the main contract is an unwarranted extrapolation of the separability principle.
  3. 12.19: I see nothing wrong with the law designated in either the arbitration clause or the main contract with displacing the non-mandatory law of the seat.
  4. 12.22: the rule in Enka v. Chubb is not “too complex and unpredictable”.
  5. 12.25: as may be expected, I, like those commenters referred to here, do not believe the placement of the choice of law clause in a contract should be determinative.
  6. 12.35: This is just another assertion of separability where it doesn’t belong.
  7. 12.40: This view is correct. When parties choose a seat, they do not think they are choosing anything more than the seat. Maybe they should be bound by the lex arbitri, but why by the law of the seat writ large?
  8. 12.53: What is said here makes no sense. To have the law chosen in the main contract govern the arbitration agreement in no way compromises the parties’ decision to arbitrate. The parties will still arbitrate, won’t they?  The arbitration clause is 100% intact. What the Report is in effect doing is to convert the notion of “the decision to arbitrate” into the notion of “the decision to arbitrate under the law of the seat.” In other words, the remark already assumes what the Report wants to establish, namely necessarily subject the arbitration agreement to the law of the seat.  Moreover, if giving effect to a choice of law (other than the law of the seat) in the arbitration clause itself – which the Report clearly allows – does not undermine the decision to arbitrate, then giving effect instead to the applicable law clause in the main contract doesn’t undermine that decision either. Here, the Report is “question-begging.”
  9. 12.66: I do not understand the Report’s aversion to using the law designated in the main contract in the rare situation that no seat was yet chosen.
  10. 12.73: Here and elsewhere it is said that we can’t allow a choice of law in the main contract to override the parties’ intent to arbitrate. But it doesn’t override. We can easily give effect to the parties’ intent to arbitrate without subjecting the arbitration agreement in all respects to the law of the seat.

The post below was written by Manuel Penades, who is a Reader in International Commercial Law at King’s College London. It is the second contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the English Law Commission’s proposed reform of the law governing arbitration agreements. The other posts are written by Alex Mills, George Bermann, Sylvain Bollée, Matthias Lehmann and Giuditta Cordero-Moss.

Readers are encouraged to participate in the discussion by commenting on the posts. 


This post examines the changes proposed by the Law Commission of England and Wales to the choice of law rules for arbitration agreements. Previous contributions to this Symposium have transcribed the text of the draft legislation, which can be found here. The Law Commission introduces three significant amendments that impact the three steps of the common law doctrine of the proper law of the contract. First, the proposal limits the types of choice of law clauses that can demonstrate an express selection of the law applicable to arbitration agreements. Second, it eliminates the possibility to choose the governing law impliedly. Third, it replaces the closest and most real connection test with a hard-and-fast rule in favour of the law of the seat.

Each of these changes requires analysis, followed by a reflection on the New York Convention.

Express Choice of Law

The new rule continues to respect the parties’ freedom to choose the law governing their arbitration agreement. Party autonomy, however, is tempered by proposed section 6A(2) of the Arbitration Act, which provides that an ‘agreement between the parties that a particular law applies to the contract to which the arbitration agreement forms part does not, of itself, constitute an express agreement that that law also applies to the arbitration agreement’. The rule is apparently simple and excludes the possibility to rely on a generic choice of law clause applicable to the contract that includes the arbitration agreement. Section 6A(2) AA, however, does not capture other scenarios, which might become a source of controversy.

The first refers to cases in which the only choice of law in the whole contract is found in the arbitration agreement itself (e.g., ‘the arbitrators shall decide the dispute in accordance with the law of X’). While these cases do not refer to the arbitration agreement specifically, they are express references to the governing law of the whole contract and are contained in the arbitration agreement itself. It is unclear whether these choices will be express enough to satisfy section 6A(2) AA.

The second scenario refers to cases in which the matrix contract not only includes an express choice of law clause applicable to the whole ‘Agreement’, but also a clause in the contract that defines ‘Agreement’ as encompassing all the clauses incorporated in the contractual document, including the arbitration agreement. The UKSC ruled in Kabab-Ji v Kout Food [2021] UKSC 48 that ‘the effect of these clauses is absolutely clear’ [39] and amounts to an express choice also for the arbitration agreement. The Law Commission’s proposal does not mention whether section 6A(2) AA intends to overrule Kabab-Ji. In these scenarios it is not the generic choice of law clause ‘of itself’ that supports the finding of an express choice of law but the combined reading of that clause alongside the definition of the term ‘Agreement’ expressly agreed by the parties in another clause of the contract.

Neither of these uncertainties would exist in the current regime under Enka v Chubb [2020] UKSC 38, as the same law would apply under express or implied choice of law.

The Elimination of Implied Choice of Law

Enka clarified that the designation of a seat does not amount to an implied choice of the law governing the arbitration agreement. This reduced, yet did not eliminate, the uncertainty surrounding implied choice. The proposal of the Law Commission goes much further; it eliminates implied choice altogether from the choice of law rules applicable to arbitration agreements. This is quite revolutionary and might come as a surprise.

Notwithstanding the complexities caused by its application, the courts of England have never questioned the acceptance of implied choice and the UKSC confirmed in Enka that ‘an implied choice is still a choice which is just as effective as a choice made expressly’ [35]. An implied choice is a manifestation of party autonomy, a principle which is at the root of English contract and private international laws.

The proposed new rule also runs contrary to the acceptance of implied choice of law in the vast majority of instruments governing international business transactions (see article 3.1 Rome I, article 14.1 Rome II or article 4 Hague Principles on Choice of Law).

Against this background, disregarding an implied choice of law might seem a step backwards in the common law tradition and global trends. The truth, however, is that decades of arbitration-related litigation in England demonstrate that the inquiry around implied choice is a source of significant uncertainty, expense and tactical litigation. The Law Commission is willing to adopt a regime that disregards cases of real (yet implied) choice of law in exchange for the certainty and savings produced by the elimination of implied choice of law. This less litigious regime makes for better arbitration regulation and strengthens the position of England as efficient arbitration destination.

The proposed solution does not necessarily curtail party autonomy. In fact, the rule after Enka that an implied choice of law for the matrix contract automatically amounts to an implied choice of law for the arbitration agreement, while apparently straightforward, might not always be reflective of the real intent of the parties. The proposed rule eliminates such risk of artificiality.

Further, case law shows that in most disputes where the issue of implied choice arises, English law offers the most arbitration-friendly outcome among the various alternative laws. Under the proposed reform, those cases will be resolved frequently in favour of English law pursuant to the default rule. This will generally protect the parties’ agreement to arbitrate more than under the current regime.

From a normative point of view, the Law Commission’s proposal also eliminates the somewhat artificial cases of double implication, where an implied choice of law for the matrix contract is used as evidence to find an implied choice of the law governing the arbitration agreement (see the conclusion of the minority in Enka [207, 228]).

Finally, the proposal eliminates the confusion sometimes perceived in English judgments between the test applicable to imply a choice of law and the (stricter) requirements to imply an ordinary contractual term [Enka [35] or Kabab-Ji [53]].

The Law of the Seat and Role of the Validation Principle

Under the proposed regime, the absence of an express choice results in the application of the law of the seat. Hard-and-fast rules are alien to the common law doctrine, where the reference to the closest and most real connection permits certain room for manoeuvre in the determination of the applicable law. Other choice of law regimes that provide hard-and-fast rules incorporate escape clauses that allow for the exceptional disapplication of the identified law (e.g., article 4.3 Rome I). In contrast, the proposed rule lacks any reference to the possibility to escape from the law of the seat.

One could wonder whether this could be a residual role for the validation principle. This principle was used in Enka to support the application of the law of the seat when an implied choice in favour of the law of the matrix contract led to a serious risk that the arbitration agreement would be invalid or ineffective. The expulsion of implied choice from the proposed regime would eliminate the raison d’etre of the validation principle. Still, the Law Commission does not exclude the principle in absolute terms, and rather states that ‘we do not need the validation principle for that purpose’ [Para. 12.56]. The question then arises whether other purposes exist.

One option would be to retain the application of the validation principle to correct express choices of law that render the arbitration agreement invalid or ineffective. The answer should be negative. The role of courts is not to improve the contract (Arnold v Britton [2015] UKSC 35, [20]). The validation principle allows the court to resort to the more favourable interpretation when the contract allows for various possible interpretations. When the choice is express, however, there is only one undisputable choice, even if it renders the arbitration agreement invalid or ineffective. In those cases, party autonomy (and the pathologies derived from it) must prevail. Any deviation from the principle of party autonomy would have required an express rule in the Law Commission’s proposal.

The other possible application of the validation principle would be in the context of the default rule, when the law of the seat renders the arbitration agreement invalid or ineffective. Indeed, the majority of the UKSC in Enka suggested (but did not confirm) that the closest connection test might itself be subject to the validation principle [146]. As noted by the Law Commission [para. 12.58], my response to the Second Consultation said that it would be odd to apply the validation principle to escape from an invalidity provided by English law itself under the default rule. However, the proposed default rule is not just in favour of English law, but in favour of the law of any seat. This approach could open the door to the application of the validation principle when, unlike the law of the seat, English law rendered the arbitration agreement valid and effective. While the Final Report of the Law Commission does not explore this option, such extended reach of the validation principle would deviate from the finality and simplicity with which the Law Commission views the default rule. Also, it might not be an appropriate and efficient policy to use English law to enforce a foreign arbitration agreement when the parties have not selected the governing law and the law of the seat would render it invalid or ineffective.

The Conflict with the NYC

Article V(1)(a) NYC provides that arbitration agreements shall be governed by the law to which the parties subjected it or, failing any indication thereon, by the law of the country where the award was made. The default rule in the Law Commission’ proposal aligns English law with the NYC, which is a welcome result.

Section 103(2)(b) AA incorporates article V(1)(a) NYC and therefore allows ‘any indication’ of choice of law made by the parties. The UKSC concluded unanimously in Kabab-Ji that ‘the word “indication” signifies that something less than an express and specific agreement will suffice’ [33]. It is unclear whether the Law Commission intends the new choice of law rule to apply in the context of section 103 AA. The UKSC said in Kabab-Ji that the common law rules on choice of law for arbitration agreements were not ‘directly applicable’ in the context of NYC enforcement actions [35]. Also, awards caught by section 103 AA have a foreign seat by definition and are not English arbitrations. Still, the proposal makes it clear that ‘the new rule would apply whether the arbitration was seated in England and Wales, or elsewhere’ [12.75]. An option would be to interpret this statement as referring to every scenario in which English courts examine an arbitration agreement (whether seated in England and Wales or elsewhere) with the exception of cases caught by section 103 AA. That is, two different choice of law treatments would co-exist within the Act. This internal dealignment would be undesirable and could lead to serious inconsistencies. The same arbitration agreement in favour of an arbitration seated abroad could be subject to different laws in pre-award disputes (e.g., section 9 AA) and post-award litigation (e.g., section 103). The UKSC said in Enka [136] and in Kabab Ji [35] that this divide would be ‘ilogical’.

The better interpretation is that the Law Commission’s proposal also extends to section 103 AA cases. Nothing in the proposal expressly excludes this reading. In fact, the Report argues that the NYC allows, but does not require, the recognition of implied choices [12.47] and concludes that the proposal is compatible with the NYC [12.52]. Ultimately, the new rule replaces the common law doctrine with a statutory provision, which becomes part of the of the regulatory fabric of English arbitration law and should not be limited, unless otherwise provided, to areas originally governed by the common law. Section 100(2) AA shows that critical parts of the notion of arbitration agreement in Part III (where section 103 AA belongs) ‘have the same meaning as in Part I’ (where the new section 6A AA would be placed). Such internal coherence of English arbitration law supports the application of the proposed rule across the board. Still, should Parliament adopt of the Law Commission’s proposal, they would need to be aware of two undesirable (yet tolerable) dealignments.

The first is that English law would move away from the prevailing interpretation of article V(1)(a) NYC as regards the acceptance of implied choice. The UKSC in Kabab-Ji objected to this departure and held that ‘it is desirable that the rules set out in article V(1)(a) for determining whether there is a valid arbitration agreement should not only be given a uniform meaning but should be applied by the courts of the contracting states in a uniform way’ [32]. Still, England would not be alone in this travel. For instance, France has also departed from the choice of law rule in the NYC. Moreover, the generally pro-arbitration results usually achieved by the proposed rule could well place the reform within the favourable gateway of article VII NYC.

The second consequence is that the same arbitration agreement (and award) might be treated differently between English and foreign courts if an existing implied choice of law disregarded in England is effective in other jurisdictions. It should be noted, however, that retaining the possibility of implied choice does not guarantee the uniformity of outcome. For instance, the same dealignment of outcome could occur between two legal systems that accepted the possibility of implied choice of law if one favoured the law of the matrix contract whereas the other veered toward the law of the seat.

Conclusion

The reasons above support the view that the potential disregard of real (yet implied) choice in some exceptional cases and the risk of some disfunctions derived from the described dealignments would be compensated by the significant simplification and savings produced by the Law Commission’s proposal. The draft Bill is therefore well-founded, courageous and beneficial to reinforce English law’s position at the forefront of international arbitration globally.

The post below was written by Alex Mills, who is Professor of Public and Private International Law at University College London. It is the first contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the English Law Commission’s proposed reform of the law governing arbitration agreements. The other posts are written by Manuel Penades, George Bermann, Sylvain Bollée, Matthias Lehmann and Giuditta Cordero-Moss.

Readers are encouraged to participate in the discussion by commenting on the posts. 


The Law Commission of England and Wales has produced a deeply thoughtful and well-researched Report, which proposes a number of very welcome reforms to the Arbitration Act 1996. Regretfully, however, I have significant reservations about the proposal which is the subject of this Symposium – the adoption of a new choice of law rule for arbitration agreements. This proposal is based on the Second Consultation Paper produced by the Law Commission in March 2023, and this comment draws on my Submission which responded to that Consultation Paper.

The rules for identifying the law applicable to an arbitration agreement have long been the subject of debate. The issue was prominently addressed by the UK Supreme Court in Enka v Chubb [2020] UKSC 38, which acknowledged (at [3]) that it had “long divided courts and commentators, both in this country and internationally”. The decision in Enka v Chubb has, however, strikingly failed to end the division among commentators. I understand why the Law Commission considered it desirable to address this question, because of the importance of the issue and the policy considerations it presents, and because it has been suggested that there is a lack of clarity in the Supreme Court’s judgment in Enka v Chubb. This issue is complex and reasonable arguments can certainly be made on both sides, as indeed acknowledged in the impressive Report and Second Consultation Paper. I am, however, not convinced of the proposal set out in the Report, which is that “the Arbitration Act 1996 be amended to provide that the arbitration agreement is governed by the law of the seat, unless the parties expressly agree otherwise” [Report, 12.77]. In this post I set out what I understand to be the relevant principles, and explain how these broadly support the rule adopted by the Supreme Court in Enka v Chubb, which has also been followed in other common law jurisdictions (such as Singapore and Hong Kong).

A first and well-known key principle is that the law governing the arbitration agreement need not be the same as that governing the remainder of the contract, sometimes referred to as the ‘matrix contract’. This is because of the principle of separability, which allows for a distinct analysis of the arbitration clause’s applicable law.

A second key principle is party autonomy, which is the starting point for analysis of any contractual choice of law issue, and particularly important in arbitration because of its contractual foundations. An agreement as to the law which governs a contract or a clause of a contract must generally be given effect, absent considerations of public policy. Traditionally, a choice of law may be express or implied – if the latter, the search is for factors which demonstrate a real (but undocumented) choice, not a choice which is imputed to the parties as one which they ought to have made.

In the absence of a real choice, it is necessary to consider not the intentions of the parties but the objective factors linking the contract to a particular system of law. Arbitration clauses remain subject to the common law choice of law rule, under which the objective test is sometimes described as a search for the system of law with ‘the closest and most real connection’ to the contract or contractual clause. An arbitration clause will generally be most closely connected to the place where it is to be performed, which is the seat of the arbitration (see further Enka v Chubb, at [120] et seq).

In the law of arbitration, another principle is that of efficiency, but this principle is secondary to that of party autonomy. While the fact that efficiency is generally a goal for parties and for arbitration can assist in interpreting arbitration clauses (see eg Fiona Trust v Privalov [2007] UKHL 40), parties may choose to have their agreements resolved according to inefficient arbitral procedures should they so wish. The law should not interfere with their choices merely because they are thought unwise or undesirable.

Choice of Law Rule in Enka v Chubb

On the basis of these clear principles, the law applicable to an arbitration agreement should be governed by the following rule, comprised of three parts in hierarchical order. This is, in essence although not form, the rule set out by the Supreme Court in Enka v Chubb.

Subject to considerations of public policy, an arbitration agreement is governed by:

(i)         The law expressly chosen to govern it;

(ii)        The law implicitly chosen to govern it;

(iii)       The law with which it has its closest and most real connection, which will ordinarily be the law of the seat of the arbitration.

This rule is simple in appearance, although its application may be complex in particular circumstances, as explained further below. The analysis below does not consider the application of public policy, but it remains an important limitation.

Choice of Law Rule in the Report

The Report proposes to amend the Arbitration Act 1996, to insert the following choice of law rule:

(1) The law applicable to an arbitration agreement is—

(a) the law that the parties expressly agree applies to the arbitration agreement, or

(b) where no such agreement is made, the law of the seat of the arbitration in question.

(2) For the purposes of subsection (1), agreement between the parties that a particular law applies to an agreement of which the arbitration agreement forms a part does not, of itself, constitute express agreement that that law also applies to the arbitration agreement.

This rule differs from the previous rule in three respects. First, for an express choice to be made, it is necessary that the parties expressly agree that it applies to the arbitration agreement. Second, there is no possibility for an implied choice. Third, in default of a choice, the law of the seat is automatically applied, rather than being the ordinary outcome of the rule.

Analysis

Under existing law a choice of law for an arbitration agreement may arise in one of three ways.

First, the contract may contain a specific express choice of law agreement for the arbitration clause. In this case, the application of this law to the arbitration clause is self-evidently based on the principles of party autonomy and separability, and is not controversial. This position is maintained in the Law Commission’s proposal.

Second, there may be an implied choice of law for the arbitration agreement. This could arise, for example, where the parties have indicated an understanding that certain statutory provisions which are specific to a governing law will apply to the validity of the arbitration agreement. In this case, the application of the chosen law to the arbitration agreement once again follows straightforwardly as a matter of party autonomy and the principle of separability. One important question in this context is whether a choice of arbitral seat should give rise to an implied choice of law for the arbitration clause. This would certainly be a factor indicating a possible choice of the law of the seat, but it is not generally considered to be a decisive one on its own, as the inquiry is concerned with identifying a real choice made (but not documented) by the parties, and must be attentive to the terms of the contract and other relevant circumstances. This rule would thus in many cases lead to the same outcome as the proposed rule 1(b) in the Report, but would do so not because of a fixed rule of law but because of an implied agreement of the parties. This possibility is rejected in the Law Commission’s proposal.

Third, the matrix contract may contain an express or implied choice of law which should, unless the contrary is agreed, be interpreted to extend to the arbitration clause. This is understood to follow from party autonomy, in combination with the common sense presumption that if parties have made a choice of law for their entire contract, and have not specified a different applicable law for any particular clause of the contract, their choice extends to all of the terms of their contract – including any arbitration agreement (see eg Enka v Chubb, at [43]). This presumption is, however, rebuttable, if there are indications that the parties would not have wanted their choice to cover the arbitration agreement. It is important, however, to understand that this question is about the correct interpretation of the scope of a choice which has been made by the parties. (Here I depart slightly from the reasoning in Enka v Chubb, as I take the view that an express choice of law in the matrix contract which also applies to the arbitration clause is an express, not implied, choice of law for the arbitration clause – see also Report, at [12.34] et seq.) The issue is whether there is evidence which might rebut the common sense presumption. The rule proposed in the Report abolishes the presumption and indeed the possibility of a choice of law in the matrix contract extending to the arbitration agreement, unless it does so specifically and expressly.

There are two main justifications offered for the changes in the Report. The first is that they align with the principle of separability (Report, [12.72]). The analysis of the law applicable to the arbitration agreement is treated as an issue which is entirely unrelated to the contract of which it forms part. It is submitted, however, that this takes separability too far (see eg Enka v Chubb, at [41] and [232] et seq). Separability as a principle rightly ensures that the validity of an arbitration clause is analysed separately from the matrix contract, so that challenges to the validity of the matrix contract do not necessarily undermine the validity of the arbitration clause. This does not, however, require that the arbitration clause be treated as an entirely free-floating agreement, ignoring the context in which it was formed. Indeed, if a choice of law clause in the matrix contract is (as proposed in the Report) deemed to be irrelevant to the arbitration clause, this raises the question whether other clauses in the matrix contract are similarly irrelevant. What if the matrix contract contains an ‘entire agreement’ clause, or a ‘no oral modification’ clause? Are they also irrelevant to the arbitration clause? If not, why is the choice of law singled out, particularly as it may also have interpretive effect?

The second is that the rule proposed in the Report would be more desirable for various policy reasons. The rule would, for example, undoubtedly be clearer and easier to apply than the current position (Report, [12.74]). Applying the rule would also strongly favour the selection of English law to determine the validity of an arbitration agreement with the seat of arbitration in England, which the Report considers to be desirable on various grounds, such as the alignment of the law governing the arbitration agreement and the law governing the arbitration process, and the favourable approach of English law toward arbitration agreements (see Report, [12.16] et seq). It is submitted, however, that these justifications are also not persuasive, as they elevate efficiency and other similar policy considerations above party autonomy. In the absence of an express choice of law specific to the arbitration clause, the fixed rule in the Report in favour of the law of the seat no longer requires but rather excludes an inquiry into what the parties have actually agreed. Contrary to the analysis in the Report (eg, at [12.53], [12.73]), this is a significant constraint on party autonomy. Where parties have chosen a seat for their arbitration, but have (expressly or impliedly) chosen a different governing law for their arbitration clause, the fact that they have thereby chosen different laws for the law governing the arbitration process and the law governing the arbitration agreement may be considered undesirable, and it may be inefficient, but it is submitted that this is not a sufficient reason for the law to disrespect their choice, which is the very foundation of arbitration. The proposed rule also has the undesirable effect that the arbitration agreement and the matrix contract are more likely to be governed by different laws, which raises difficult questions concerning their consistent interpretation and validity (see, eg, Enka v Chubb, at [53] and [235] et seq). There is also a concern that arbitrators will be faced with a difficult choice between applying a law chosen by the parties (for example, through a matrix choice of law agreement, or through an implied choice), which they may consider themselves to be required to do as a matter of their contractual mandate, and applying the law that will be applied by the English courts if their award is challenged.

The Law Commission’s Report is overall an excellent example of law reform, offering carefully crafted and well-reasoned proposals for improvement. On this issue, it makes its case well, and there would undoubtedly be some benefits to the reforms which it proposes. Ultimately, however, I am not persuaded that they are consistent with the core principles that should be guiding the law. A simple and clear rule is often desirable, but in this case it is my view that the complexities of the existing rule simply reflect the complexities of arbitration, which cannot and should not be legislated away.

London holds the distinction of being a preferred seat for arbitration, making significant developments in English arbitration law of general interest to arbitration specialists and, at times, private international lawyers. Few developments in arbitration law can match the significance of a reform affecting the statute providing a framework for arbitration. This is precisely what the Law Commission of England and Wales is recommending in its final report on the review of the Arbitration Act 1996.

One of the proposals aims to introduce a statutory rule for determining the governing law of an arbitration agreement, which significantly departs from the current common law position. Given the importance of this proposal, the EAPIL blog will host an online symposium on the law governing arbitration agreements from 11 to 13 September 2023.

In this post, I will introduce the Law Commission’s proposals and the symposium.

Law Commission’s Proposals

On 6 September 2023, following an extensive consultation process that included the publication of two consultation papers in September 2022 and March 2023, the Law Commission unveiled its proposals for reforming the 1996 Act (the text of the final report and draft Bill is available here; a summary is available here). These proposals aim to uphold the Act’s core principles, while introducing improvements aimed at enhancing London’s position as a global arbitration centre.

The Law Commission’s major proposals are: codifying an arbitrator’s duty of disclosure; strengthening arbitrator immunity around resignation and applications for removal; introducing the power to make arbitral awards on a summary basis; improving the framework for challenges to awards under section 67 on the basis that the tribunal lacked jurisdiction; adding a new rule on the law governing arbitration agreements; and clarifying court powers in support of arbitral proceedings and emergency arbitrators.

Additionally, the Law Commission proposes several minor corrections, including: allowing appeals from applications to stay legal proceedings; simplifying preliminary applications to court on jurisdiction and points of law; clarifying time limits for challenging awards; and repealing unused provisions on domestic arbitration agreements.

Since private international lawyers are likely more interested in the proposed choice-of-law rule for arbitration agreements and the proposed new relationship between courts and arbitrators regarding jurisdictional challenges, I will focus on these two proposals.

New Choice-of-Law Rule for Arbitration Agreements

The Rome I Regulation does not cover arbitration agreements, leaving the determination of the law governing arbitration agreements in England to the common law choice-of-law rules for contracts. These rules are well-known: a contract is governed by the law expressly or impliedly chosen by the parties or, in the absence of choice, by the system of law with which the contract is most closely connected. Applying this rule to arbitration clauses can be difficult. Does a broad choice-of-law clause in a matrix contract amount to an express choice of law for the arbitration clause contained therein? If the parties have not expressly chosen the law to govern their arbitration clause, is the choice of law for the matrix contract an indication of implied choice for the arbitration clause? Is the designation of the arbitral seat an indication of such implied choice?

The United Kingdom Supreme Court addressed these questions twice in the past three years in Enka and Kabab-Ji. The court’s majority in Enka (Lord Hamblen, Lord Leggatt, and Lord Kerr) set out the following rules for determining the existence of parties’ choice of law in [170]:

iii) Whether the parties have agreed on a choice of law to govern the arbitration agreement is ascertained by construing the arbitration agreement and the contract containing it, as a whole, applying the rules of contractual interpretation of English law as the law of the forum.

iv) Where the law applicable to the arbitration agreement is not specified, a choice of governing law for the contract will generally apply to an arbitration agreement which forms part of the contract.

v) The choice of a different country as the seat of the arbitration is not, without more, sufficient to negate an inference that a choice of law to govern the contract was intended to apply to the arbitration agreement.

vi) Additional factors which may, however, negate such an inference and may in some cases imply that the arbitration agreement was intended to be governed by the law of the seat are: (a) any provision of the law of the seat which indicates that, where an arbitration is subject to that law, the arbitration agreement will also be treated as governed by that country’s law; or (b) the existence of a serious risk that, if governed by the same law as the main contract, the arbitration agreement would be ineffective. Either factor may be reinforced by circumstances indicating that the seat was deliberately chosen as a neutral forum for the arbitration.

vii) Where there is no express choice of law to govern the contract, a clause providing for arbitration in a particular place will not by itself justify an inference that the contract (or the arbitration agreement) is intended to be governed by the law of that place.

The court also clarified that the law of the seat is ‘generally’ the system of law most closely connected to the arbitration agreement.

Unsurprisingly, consultees said that these rules were complex and unpredictable. This has led the Law Commission to propose a reform of these rules in its second consultation paper.

The proposal has three key elements: 1) retaining express choice; 2) eliminating implied choice; and 3) specifying that the law of the seat applies in the absence of an express choice.

The proposed choice-of-law rule for arbitration agreements reads as follows:

6A Law applicable to arbitration agreement

(1) The law applicable to an arbitration agreement is—

(a) the law that the parties expressly agree applies to the arbitration agreement, or

(b) where no such agreement is made, the law of the seat of the arbitration in question.

(2) For the purposes of subsection (1), agreement between the parties that a particular law applies to an agreement of which the arbitration agreement forms a part does not, of itself, constitute express agreement that that law also applies to the arbitration agreement.

(3) This section does not apply in relation to an arbitration agreement that was entered into before the day on which section 1 of the Arbitration Act 2023 comes into force.

New Relationship between Courts and Arbitrators Regarding Jurisdictional Challenges

If a party participates in arbitral proceedings, raises a jurisdictional challenge before the tribunal, and is accorded a fair hearing, should they be allowed to challenge the tribunal’s jurisdiction before a court using the same arguments and evidence? The answer to this question is principally guided by two somewhat conflicting considerations: efficiency and freedom of contract (which, of course, includes a freedom not to be bound by a non-existent or invalid contract).

The UKSC addressed this issue in Dallah. Lord Mance wrote obiter in [26] that:

An arbitral tribunal’s decision as to the existence of its own jurisdiction cannot…bind a party who has not submitted the question of arbitrability to the tribunal. This leaves for consideration the nature of the exercise which a court should undertake where there has been no such submission and the court is asked to enforce an award. Domestically, there is no doubt that, whether or not a party’s challenge to the jurisdiction has been raised, argued and decided before the arbitrator, a party who has not submitted to the arbitrator’s jurisdiction is entitled to a full judicial determination on evidence of an issue of jurisdiction before the English court, on an application made in time for that purpose under s.67 of the Arbitration Act 1996.

Lord Collins and Lord Saville expressed similar views in, respectively, [96] and [159]-[160].

The Law Commission believes that such a de novo rehearing is inefficient and unfair to the party wishing to enforce the arbitration agreement. It proposes to limit when a participating party can raise a jurisdictional challenge before English courts.

Following a very controversial proposal in its first consultation paper, the Law Commission has settled on a proposal that has the following four key elements: 1) it covers situations where a party participates in arbitral proceedings, objects to the tribunal’s jurisdiction, and the tribunal rules on its jurisdiction; 2) the court will not entertain any new grounds of objection, or any new evidence, unless it was not reasonably possible to put them before the tribunal; 3) the court will re-hear evidence only if necessary in the interests of justice; and 4) these limitations are to be introduced through rules of court rather than the 1996 Act itself.

The proposed rules outlining this new relationship between courts and arbitrators regarding jurisdictional challenges, to be inserted in section 67, read as follows:

(3A) Rules of court about the procedure to be followed on an application under this section may, in particular, include provision within subsection (3B) in relation to a case where the application—

(a) relates to an objection as to the arbitral tribunal’s substantive jurisdiction on which the tribunal has already ruled, and

(b) is made by a party that took part in the arbitral proceedings.

(3B) Provision is within this subsection if it provides that—

(a) a ground for the objection that was not raised before the arbitral tribunal must not be raised before the court unless the applicant shows that, at the time the applicant took part in the proceedings, the applicant did not know and could not with reasonable diligence have discovered the ground;

(b) evidence that was not heard by the tribunal must not be heard by the court unless the applicant shows that, at the time the applicant took part in the proceedings, the applicant could not with reasonable diligence have put the evidence before the tribunal;

(c) evidence that was heard by the tribunal must not be re-heard by the court, unless the court considers it necessary in the interests of justice.

EAPIL Blog Symposium on the Law Governing Arbitration Agreements

From 11 to 13 September 2023, the EAPIL blog will host an online symposium on the law governing arbitration agreements. The focus will be on assessing the Law Commission’s proposal and providing a comparative perspective. Professor Alex Mills (UCL) and Dr Manuel Penades Fons (KCL) will kick off the discussion by assessing the proposed choice-of-law rule for arbitration agreements from a UK perspective on Monday 11 September 2023. More contributions from comparative perspectives will follow on Tuesday and Wednesday.

Readers are encouraged to participate in the discussion by commenting on the posts.

Please follow the hyperlinks to access the posts by Alex Mills, Manuel Penades, George Bermann, Sylvain Bollée, Matthias Lehmann and Giuditta Cordero-Moss.

This post was written by Ralf Michaels and Antonia Sommerfeld, Max Planck Institute for Comparative and International Private Law, and is also available via conflictoflaws.net.


The Draft for a Corporate Sustainable Due Diligence Directive currently contains no rules on jurisdiction. This creates inconsistencies between the scope of application of the Draft Directive and existing jurisdictional law, both on the EU level and on the domestic level, and can lead to an enforcement gap: EU companies may be able to escape the existing EU jurisdiction; non-EU companies may even not be subject to such jurisdiction. Effectivity requires closing that gap, and we propose ways in which this could be achieved.

The Proposal for a Directive on Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence

The process towards an EU Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence Directive is gaining momentum. The EU Commission published a long awaited Proposal for a Directive on Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence (CSDDD), COM(2022) 71 final, on 23 February 2022; the EU Council adopted its negotiation position on 1 December 2022; and now, the EU Parliament has suggested amendments to this Draft Directive on 1 June 2023. The EU Parliament has thereby backed the compromise textreached by its legal affairs committee on 25 April 2023. This sets off the trilogue between representatives of the Parliament, the Council and the Commission.

The current state of the CSDDD already represents a milestone. It not only introduces corporate responsibility for human rights violations and environmental damage – as already found in some national laws (e.g. in France; Germany; Netherlands; Norway; Switzerland; United Kingdom) – but also and in contrast (with the exception of French law – for more details see Camy) introduces civil liability. Art. 22 (1) CSDDD entitles persons who suffer injuries as result of a failure of a company to comply with the obligations set forth in the Directive to claim compensation. It thereby intends to increase the protection of those affected within the value chain, who will now have the prospect of compensation; it also intends to create a deterrent effect by having plaintiffs take over the enforcement of the law as “private attorney generals”. Moreover, the Directive requires that Member States implement this civil liability with an overriding mandatory application to ensure its application, Art. 22 (5) CSDDD. This is not unproblematic: the European Union undertakes here the same unilateralism that it used to criticize when previously done by the United States, with the Helms/Burton Act as the most prominent example.

That is not our concern here. Nor do we want to add to the lively discussion on the choice-of-law- aspects regarding civil liability (see, amongst others, van Calster, Ho-Dac, Dias and, before the Proposal, Rühl). Instead, we address a gap in the Draft Directive, namely the lack of any provisions on jurisdiction. After all, mandatory application in EU courts is largely irrelevant if courts do not have jurisdiction in the first place. If the remaining alternative is to bring an action in a court outside the EU, the application of the CSDDD civil liability regime is not, however, guaranteed. It will then depend on the foreign court’s conflict-of-law rules and whether these consider the CSDDD provisions applicable – an uncertain path.

Nonetheless, no mirroring provisions on international jurisdiction were included in the CSDDD, although such inclusion had been discussed. Suggestions for the inclusion of a new jurisdictional rule establishing a forum necessitatis in the Brussels I Regulation Recast existed (see the Study by the European Parliament Policy Department for External Relations from February 2019, the Draft Report of the European Parliament Committee on Legal Affairs with recommendations to the Commission on corporate due diligence and corporate accountability (2020/2129(INL) as well as the Recommendation of the European Groupe of Private International Law (GEDIP) communicated to the Commission on 8 October 2021). Further, the creation of a forum connexitatis in addition to a forum necessitatis had been recommended by both the Policy Department Study and the GEDIP. Nevertheless, the report of the European Parliament finally adopted, together with the Draft Directive of 10 March 2021, no longer contained such rule on international jurisdiction, without explanation. Likewise, the Commission’s CSDDD draft and the Parliament’s recent amendments lack such a provision.

Enforcement Gap for Actions against Defendants Domiciled within the EU

To assess the enforcement gap, it is useful to distinguish EU companies from non-EU companies as defendants. For EU companies, the Directive applies to companies of a certain size which are formed in accordance with the legislation of a Member State according to Art. 2 (1) CSDDD – the threshold numbers in the Commission’s draft and the Parliament amendments differ, ranging between 250–500 employees and EUR 40–150 million annual net worldwide turnover, with questions of special treatment for high-risk sectors.

At first sight, no enforcement gap seems to exist here. The general jurisdiction rule anchored in Art. 4 (1) Brussels I Regulation Recast allows for suits in the defendant’s domicile. Art. 63 (1) further specifies this domicile for companies as the statutory seat, the central administration or the principal place of business. (EU-based companies can also be sued at the place where the harmful event occurred according to Art. 7 (2) Brussels I Regulation Recast, but this will provide for access to an EU court only if this harmful event occurred within the EU.) The objection of forum non conveniens does not apply in the Brussels I Regulation system (as clarified in the CJEU’s Owusu decision). Consequently, in cases where jurisdiction within the EU is given, the CSDDD applies, including the civil liability provision with its mandatory application pursuant to Art. 22 (1), (5).

Yet there is potential leeway for EU domiciled companies to escape EU jurisdiction and thus avoid the application of the CSDDD’s civil liability. One way to avoid EU jurisdiction is to use an exclusive jurisdiction agreement in favour of a third country, or an arbitration clause. Such agreements concluded in advance of any occurred damage are conceivable between individual links of the value chain, such as between employees and subcontractors (in employment contracts) or between different suppliers along the chain (in purchase and supply agreements). EU law does not expressly prohibit such derogation. Precedent for how such exclusive jurisdiction agreements can be treated can be found in the case law following the Ingmar decision of the CJEU. In Ingmar, the CJEU had decided that a commercial agent’s compensation claim according to Arts. 17 and 18 of the Commercial Agents Directive (86/653/EEC) could not be avoided through a choice of law in favour of the law of a non-EU country, even though the Directive said nothing about an internationally mandatory nature for the purpose of private international law – as Art. 22 (5) CSDDD in contrast now does. The German Federal Court of Justice (BGH) extended this choice-of-law argument to the law of jurisdiction and held that jurisdiction clauses which could undermine the application of mandatory provisions are invalid, too, as only such a rule would safeguard the internationally mandatory scope of application of the provisions. Other EU Member State courts have shown a similar understanding not only with regard to exclusive jurisdiction agreements but also with regard to arbitration agreements (Austrian Supreme Court of Justice; High Court of Justice Queen’s Bench Division).

Common to Arts. 17 and 18 Commercial Agents Directive and Art. 22 CSDDD is their mandatory nature for the purpose of private international law, which established by the ECJ for the former and is legally prescribed for the latter in Art. 22 (5) CSDDD. This suggests a possible transfer of the jurisdictional argument regarding jurisdiction. To extend the internationally mandatory nature of a provision into the law of jurisdiction is not obvious; choice of law and jurisdiction are different areas of law. It also means that the already questionable unilateral nature of the EU regulation is given even more force. Nonetheless, to do so appears justified. Allowing parties to avoid application of the CSDDD would run counter to its effective enforcement and therefore to the effet utile. This means that an exclusive jurisdiction agreement in favour of a third country or an arbitration clause will have to be deemed invalid unless it is clear that the CSDDD remains applicable or the applicable law provides for similar protection.

Enforcement Gap for Actions against Defendants Domiciled Outside the EU

While the enforcement gap with regard to EU companies can thus be solved under existing law, additional problems arise with regard to non-EU corporations. Notably, the Draft Directive applies also to certain non-EU companies formed in accordance with the legislation of a third country, Art. 2 (2) CSDDD. For these companies, the scope of application depends upon the net turnover within the territory of the Union, this being the criterion creating a territorial connection between these companies and the EU (recital (24)). The Parliament’s amendments lower this threshold and thereby sharpen the scope of application of the Directive.

While application of the CSDDD to these companies before Member State courts is guaranteed due to its mandatory character, jurisdiction over non-EU defendants within the EU is not. International jurisdiction for actions against third-country defendants as brought before EU Member State courts is – with only few exceptions – generally governed by the national provisions of the respective Member State whose courts are seized, Art. 6 (1) Brussels I Regulation Recast. If the relevant national rules do not establish jurisdiction, no access to court is given within the EU.

And most national rules do not establish such jurisdiction. General jurisdiction at the seat of the corporation will usually lie outside the European Union. And the territorial connection of intra-EU turnover used to justify the applicability of the CSDDD does not create a similar basis of general jurisdiction, because jurisdiction at the place of economic activity (“doing business jurisdiction”) is alien to European legal systems. Even in the US, where this basis was first introduced, the US Supreme Court now limits general jurisdiction to the state that represents the “home” for the defendant company (BNSF Railroad Co. v. Tyrrell, 137 S.Ct. 1549 (2017); Daimler AG v. Bauman, 571 U.S. 117 (2014); Goodyear Dunlop Tires Operations, S.A. v. Brown, 564 U.S. 915 (2011)); whether the recent decision in Mallory v. Norfolk Southern Railway Co., 600 U.S. (2023) will re-open the door to doing business jurisdiction remains to be seen (see Gardner).

Specific jurisdiction will not exist in most cases, either. Specific jurisdiction in matters relating to tort will be of little use, as in value chain civil liability claims the place of the event giving rise to damages and the place of damage are usually outside the EU and within that third state. Some jurisdictional bases otherwise considered exorbitant may be available, such as the plaintiff’s nationality (Art. 14 French Civil Code) or the defendant’s assets (Section 23 German Code of Civil Procedure). Otherwise, the remaining option to seize a non-EU defendant in a Member State court is through submission by appearance according to Art. 26 Brussels I Regulation Recast.

Whether strategic joint litigation can be brought against an EU anchor defendant in order to drag along a non-EU defendant depends upon the national provisions of the EU Member States. Art. 8 (1) Brussels I Regulation Recast, which allows for connected claims to be heard and determined together, applies only to EU-defendants – for non-EU defendants the provision is inapplicable. In some Member States, the national civil procedure provisions enable jurisdiction over connected claims against co-defendants, e.g. in the Netherlands (Art. 7 (1) Wetboek van Burgerlijke Rechtsvordering), France (Art. 42 (2) Code de procédure civile) and Austria (§ 93 Jurisdiktionsnorm); conversely, such jurisdiction is not available in countries such as Germany.

Various Member State decisions have accepted claims against non-EU companies as co-defendants by means of joinder of parties. These cases have based their jurisdiction on national provisions which were applicable according to Art. 6 (1) Brussels I Recast Regulation: In Milieudefensie in December 2015, the Court of Appeal at the Hague held permissible an action against a Dutch anchor defendant that was joined with an action against a Nigerian company as co-defendant based on Dutch national procedural law, on the condition that claims against the anchor defendant were actually possible. The UK Supreme Court ruled similarly in its Vedanta decision in April 2019, wherein it found that English private international law, namely the principle of the necessary or proper party gateway, created a valid basis for invoking English jurisdiction over a defendant not domiciled in a Member State (with registered office in Zambia) who had been joined with an anchor defendant based in the UK. The claim was accepted on the condition that (i) the claims against the anchor defendant involve a real issue to be tried; (ii) it would be reasonable for the court to try that issue; (iii) the foreign defendant is a necessary or proper party to the claims against the anchor defendant; (iv) the claims against the foreign defendant have a real prospect of success; (v) either England is the proper place in which to bring the combined claims or there is a real risk that the claimants will not obtain substantial justice in the alternative foreign jurisdiction, even if it would otherwise have been the proper place or the convenient or natural forum. The UK Supreme Court confirmed this approach in February 2021 in its Okpabi decision (for discussion of possible changes in UK decisions after Brexit, see Hübner/Lieberknecht).

In total, these decisions allow for strategic joint litigation against third-country companies together with an EU anchor defendant. Nonetheless, they do not establish international jurisdiction within the EU for isolated actions against non-EU defendants.

How to Close the Enforcement Gap – forum legis

The demonstrated lack of access to court weakens the Directive’s enforceability and creates an inconsistency between the mandatory nature of the civil liability and the lack of a firm jurisdictional basis. On a substantive level, the Directive stipulates civil liability for non-EU companies (Art. 22 CSDDD) if they are sufficiently economically active within the EU internal market (Art. 2 (2) CSDDD). Yet missing EU rules on international jurisdiction vis-à-vis third-country defendants often render procedural enforcement before an intra-EU forum impossible – even if these defendants generate significant turnover in the Union. Consequently, procedural enforcement of civil liability claims against these non-EU defendants is put at risk. The respective case law discussed does enable strategic joint litigation, but isolated actions against non-EU defendants cannot be based upon these decisions. At the same time, enforceability gaps exist with respect to EU defendants: It remains uncertain whether the courts of Member States will annul exclusive jurisdiction agreements and arbitration agreements if these undermine the application of the CSDDD.

This situation is unsatisfactory. It is inconsistent for the EU lawmaker to make civil liability mandatory in order to ensure civil enforcement but to then not address the access to court necessary for such enforcement. And it is inadequate that the (systemic) question of judicial enforceability of civil liability claims under the Directive is outsourced to the decision of the legal systems of the Member States. National civil procedural law is called upon to decide which third-country companies can be sued within the EU and how the Ingmar case law for EU domiciled companies will be further developed. This is a problem of uniformity – different national laws allow for different answers. And it is a problem of competence as Member State courts are asked to  render decisions that properly belong to the EU level.

The CSDDD aims to effectively protect human rights and the environment in EU-related value chains and to create a level playing field for companies operating within the EU. This requires comparable enforcement possibilities for actions based on civil liability claims that are brought pursuant to Art. 22 CSDDD against all corporations operating within the Union. The different regulatory options the EU legislature has to achieve this goal are discussed in what follows.

Doing business jurisdiction

A rather theoretical possibility would be to allow actions against third-country companies within the EU in accordance with the former (and perhaps revived) US case law on doing business jurisdiction in those cases where these companies are substantially economically active within the EU internal market. This would be consistent with the CSDDD’s approach of stretching its scope of application based on the level of economic activity within the EU (Art. 2 (2) CSDDD). However, the fact that such jurisdiction has always been considered exorbitant in Europe and has even been largely abolished in the USA speaks against this development. Moreover, a doing business jurisdiction would also go too far: it would establish general jurisdiction, at least according to the US model, and thus also apply to claims that have nothing to do with the CSDDD.

Forum necessitatis and universal jurisdiction

Another possible option would be the implementation of a forum necessitatis jurisdiction in order to provide access to justice, as proposed by the European Parliament Policy Department for External Relations, the European Parliament Committee on Legal Affairs and the GEDIP. However, such jurisdiction could create uncertainty because it would apply only exceptionally. Moreover, proving a “lack of access to justice” requires considerable effort in each individual case. Until now, EU law provides for a forum necessitatis only in special regulations; the Brussels I Regulation Recast does not contain any general rule for emergency jurisdiction. Member State provisions in this regard generally require a certain connection with the forum to establish such jurisdiction – the exact prerequisites differ, however, and will thus not be easily agreed upon on an EU level (see Kübler-Wachendorff).

The proposal to enforce claims under Art. 22 CSDDD by means of universal civil jurisdiction for human rights violations, which could be developed analogously to universal jurisdiction under criminal law, appears similarly unpromising; it would also go further than necessary.

Forum connexitatis

It seems more promising to implement a special case of a forum connexitatis so as to allow for  litigation of closely connected actions brought against a parent company domiciled within the EU together with a subsidiary or supplier domiciled in a third country, as proposed by the European Parliament Policy Department for External Relations and the GEDIP. This could be implemented by means of a teleological reduction of the requirements of Art. 8 (1) Brussels I Regulation Recast with regard to third-country companies, which would be an approach more compatible with the Brussels Regulation system than the implementation of a forum necessitatis provision (such a solution has, for instance, been supported by Mankowski, in: Fleischer/Mankowski (Hrsg.), LkSG, Einl., para. 342 and the GEDIP). This would simultaneously foster harmonisation on the EU level given that joint proceedings currently depend upon procedural provisions in the national law of the Member States. Moreover, this could avoid “blame games” between the different players in the value chain (see Kieninger, RW 2022, 584, 589). For the implementation of such a forum connexitatis, existing Member State regulations and related case law (Milieudefensie, Vedanta, and Okpabi) can serve as guidance. Such a forum is not yet common practice in all Member States; thus, its political viability remains to be seen. It should also be borne in mind that the implementation of a forum connexitatis on its own would only enable harmonised joint actions that were brought against EU domiciled anchor defendants together with non-EU defendants; it would not enable isolated actions against third-country companies – even if they are economically active within the EU and fall within the scope of application of the CSDDD.

Best option: Forum legis

The best way to close the CSDDD enforcement gap would be introducing an international jurisdiction basis corresponding to the personal scope of application of the Directive. The EU legislature would need to implement a head of jurisdiction applicable to third-country companies that operate within the EU internal market at the level specified in Art. 2 (2) CSDDD. Effectively, special jurisdiction would be measured on the basis of net turnover achieved within the EU. This would procedurally protect the Directive’s substantive regulatory objectives of human rights and environmental protection within EU-related value chains. Moreover, this would ensure a level playing field in the EU internal market.

Other than a forum premised on joint litigation, this solution would allow isolated actions to be brought – in an EU internal forum – against non-EU companies operating within the EU. The advantage of this solution compared to a forum of necessity is that the connecting factor of net turnover is already defined by Art. 2 (2) CSDDD, thus reducing the burden of proof, legal uncertainty and any unpredictability for the parties. Moreover, this approach would interfere less with the regulatory interests of other states than a forum necessitatis rule, which for its part would reach beyond the EU’s own regulatory space.

A forum legis should not be implemented only as a subsidiary option for cases in which there is a lack of access to justice, because this would create legal uncertainty. The clear-cut requirements of Art. 2 (2) CSDDD are an adequate criterion for jurisdiction via a forum legis. On the other hand, it should not serve as an exclusive basis of jurisdiction, because especially plaintiffs should not be barred from the ability to bring suit outside the EU. The risk of strategic declaratory actions brought by companies in a court outside the EU seems rather negligeable, and this  can be avoided either by giving preference to actions for performance over negative declaratory actions, as is the law in Germany or through the requirement of recognisability of a foreign judgment, which would not be met by a foreign decision violating domestic public policy by not providing sufficient protection.

This leaves a problem, however: The CSDDD does not designate which Member State’s court have jurisdiction. Since a forum legis normally establishes adjudicatory jurisdiction correlating with the applicable law, jurisdiction lies with the courts of the country whose law is applied. This is not possible as such for EU law because the EU does not have its own ordinary courts. The competent Member State court within the EU must be determined. Two options exist with regard to the CSDDD: to give jurisdiction to the courts in the country where the highest net turnover is reached, or to allow claimants to choose the relevant court. The first option involves difficult evidentiary issues, the second may give plaintiffs an excessive amount of choice. In either case, non-EU companies will be treated differently from EU companies on the question of the competent court – for non-EU companies, net turnover is decisive in establishing the forum, for EU-companies, the seat of the company is decisive. This difference is an unavoidable consequence resulting from extension of the scope of application of the Directive to third-country companies on the basis of net turnover.

Implementation

How could this forum legis be achieved? The most straightforward way would be to include a rule on jurisdiction in the CSDDD, which would then oblige the Member States to introduce harmonised rules of jurisdiction into national procedural law. This would be a novelty in the field of European international civil procedure law, but it would correspond to the character of the special provision on value chains as well as to the mechanism of the CSDDD’s liability provision. An alternative would be to include in the Brussels I Regulation Recast a sub-category of a special type of jurisdiction under Art. 7 Brussels I Regulation Recast. This as well would be a novelty to the Brussels system, which in principle requires that the defendant be seated in a Member State (see also Kieninger, RW 2022, 584, 593, who favours reform of the Brussels I Regulation Recast for the sake of uniformity within the EU). This second option would certainly mesh with current efforts to extend the Brussels system to non-EU defendants (see Lutzi/Piovesani/Zgrabljic Rotar).

The implementation of such a forum legis is not without problems: It subjects companies, somewhat inconsistently with the EU legal scheme, to de facto jurisdiction merely because they generate significant turnover in the EU’s internal market. Yet such a rule is a necessary consequence of the extraterritorial extension of the Directive to third-country companies. The unilateral character of the CSDDD is problematic. But if the CSDDD intends to implement such an extension on a substantive level, this must be reflected on a procedural level so as to enable access to court. The best way to do this is by implementing a forum legis. The CSDDD demonstrates the great importance of compensation of victims of human rights and environmental damage, by making the cicil liability rule internationally mandatory. Creating a corresponding head of jurisdiction for these substantive civil liability claims is then necessary and consistent in order to achieve access to court and, thus, procedural enforceability.

The author of this post is Willem Visser. He is one of the editors of the Dutch Journal for Consumer Law and Unfair Commercial Practices (Tijdschrift voor Consumentenrecht & handelspraktijken).


In April 2023, the EAPIL Working Group on the Reform of the Brussels I bis Regulation issued a preliminary position paper formulating proposals for reforming the Regulation. On 29 March 2023, the European Commission published a study to support the preparation of a report on the application of the Brussels Ibis Regulation.

In my opinion, consumer protection seems to be only marginally on the radar in these documents. Therefore, I wrote this article, which was published in the Dutch Journal for Consumer Law, where I propose to extend the material scope of the provisions dealing with consumer contracts (Articles 17-19 Brussels I bis Regulation) and to significantly simplify the entire chapter on jurisdiction. A summary of my article and proposals is set out below.

Consumers are protected through EU regulations not only when it comes to their substantive rights (against unfair commercial practices, unfair terms, etc.), but also when it comes to procedural law, in particular the assesment of international jurisdiction in disputes over consumer contracts.

This procedural protection is enshrined in the Brussels I bis Regulation and its predecessors (Regulation No. 44/2001 and the 1968 Brussels Convention). These instruments will be referred to below as ‘the Brussels regime’.

The Brussels regime protects consumers by giving jurisdiction to the courts of their country of residence (Articles 17-19 Brussels I bisRegulation). That seems like a great deal, but in practice there are several limitations to that protection.

First, the consumer protection only applies to consumer contracts and not to any non-contractual obligations invoked by consumers (for example, tort, unjust enrichment and negotiorum gestio). In these types of cases the consumer cannot litigate before the court of his or her domicile, but will probably have to seek the courts of its professional counterparty: the defendant’s domicile. It is not desirable for consumers to be forced to litigate outside their country of residence, because that means extra travel time, litigating in an unfamiliar country and in a different language, with the help of a foreign lawyer, in a procedure that may well be more expensive than in his or her home country. Moreover, it is not always clear – on the basis of the various rulings by the EU Court of Justice – whether an obligation should be qualified as a ‘contractual obligation’ or a ‘non-contractual obligation’. There have been several cases where the natural person was the weaker party and needed protection, but did not get it because of the non-contractual nature of the obligation in question (see the ECJ decisions in Wikingerhof, Kolassa and Deepwater Horizon). I therefore believe that consumer protection in the Brussels Ibis Regulation should not be limited to consumer contracts but should be extended to non-contractual consumer obligations.

Second, the ECJ interpretes the concept of ‘consumer’ restrictively: it “must necessarily be interpreted strictly, in the sense that it cannot be extended beyond the cases expressly mentioned in that Regulation” (amongst others: Poker Player, C-774/19, para. 24). This restrictive approach resulted in a natural person not being able to claim consumer protection under the Brussels regime in the following situations: if he/she was a consumer but transferred his/her rights; in that case, the person to whom the rights have been transferred cannot be considered a ‘consumer’ (C-89/91); if the contract was entered into with a view to an as yet unexercised but future professional activity (C-269/95); if it concerns a class action initiated by a group of consumers (C-167/00); if both parties are consumers (C-508/12); if the consumer does not have a contract with the issuer of the certificates (C-375/13); if the agreement subsequently acquired a professional character (C-498/16); if the contract was concluded for a dual purpose, unless the contract, in view of the context of the transaction – considered as a whole – for which it was concluded, is so distinct from that professional activity that it is evident that it was concluded primarily for private purposes (C-630/17); if there is a claim by a consumer against an airline that is not a party to the transport contract (C-215/18).

So, there are quite a few situations where a natural person is not considered a ‘consumer’, and therefore cannot litigate before the courts of his or her own domicile. This is remarkable, because the European Union ensures “a high level of consumer protection” (Article 38 of the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights). I believe that in several of the situations mentioned above, there is an unjustified lack of protection. In my opinion, the regime of Article 17-19 Brussels I bis Regulation should therefore be applied less restrictively by entering an assumption into the Regulation that a natural person acts in his capacity as a consumer. It is up to the counterparty to prove that the natural person has unmistakably acted in the context of his or her profession or business.

In addition, I believe that consumer protection should also apply to consumer collective actions. There is no valid reason why the collective nature of a claim should result in a group of consumers no longer being considered a weaker party. At the time the contracts were concluded, the consumers represented had less room to negotiate with their professional counterparty, and thus to that extent still had a weaker position. Moreover, it leads to a divergence between the competent court and the applicable law. Still, collective actions based on a breach of consumer contracts remain governed by the law of the consumers’ country. The freedom to conduct a business, guaranteed in Article 16 of the EU Charter, does not necessitate the exclusion of collective actions from consumer protection. The professional counterparty of the consumer has already had to take into account that individual consumers could bring proceedings against it in their own place of residence. That this is different in the case of a consumer collective action is therefore, in that sense, an unexpected advantage for the counterparty.

Third, in my opinion the ‘targeting requirement’ in Article 17 (1)(c) Brussels I bis Reguliation is not workable in practice. This requirement has given rise to much ECJ case-law and leads to legal uncertainty (see the legal commentary on the Alpenhof judgment). In my opinion, in this digital day and age a consumer contract should only be excluded from consumer protection where the professional would not have to expect litigating in the courts of the consumer’s domicile. This is the case only, when the contract is concluded in a physical sales area or when the consumer cannot get the goods or services delivered in his place of residence under the trader’s terms and conditions.

In light of the above, I conclude that consumer protection under the Brussels regime has not kept pace with substantive consumer law in which consumer protection has become more extensive.

But that’s not the only comment I would like to make on the current Brussels I bis Regulation. The complexity of the chapter on jurisdiction (Chapter II of the Regulation) results even today – more than 50 years after its predecessor, the Brussels Convention, was signed by the the EEC members States – in large numbers of preliminary rulings. The Brussels/Lugano regime accounts for the majority of the 245 preliminary rulings on private international law sources from 2015 to 2022. That means more than 120 questions (128 to be precise) over a 7-year period. In my opinion, that is too much for an instrument that is in place more than 50 years.

Reducing the Court of Justice’s workload is not necessarily a compelling reason to simplify a regime, but it should be borne in mind that behind every case submitted to a court, there are two or more parties who – until the preliminary question is answered – cannot proceed with their legal proceedings. The delay is considerable, since preliminary reference proceedings before the Court of Justice take 16.6 months on average.

I therefore propose to replace the articles which give rise to the largest amount of preliminary questions (Article 7(1) and (2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation) by an article which aligns jurisdiction and applicable law. My proposal is that Article 7(1) and (2) (and perhaps other parts of Article 7) should be replaced by the following rule:

A person domiciled in one Member State may also be sued in another Member State whose laws governs the relevant contractual or non-contractual obligation underlying the claim. Where there are several claims governed by different laws, the courts of the Member State which laws governs the most far-reaching claim shall have jurisdiction.

The advantage of aligning jurisdiction and applicable law is that it improves coherence between the Brussels I bis Regulation and the Rome I and Rome II Regulations (which designate the law that is applicable to a contractual or non-contractual obligation). These Regulations all aim to promote predictability of the outcome of litigation, legal certainty and mutual recognition of judgments.

Simplifying the Brussels regime would give rise to fewer preliminary questions and fewer delays. Preventing delays is one of the objectives of procedural law. As the saying goes: ‘Justice delayed is justice denied’.

I admit that I have not yet thought through all consequences of my proposals, and it is going too far to elaborate all of them in the context of my article. But it seems right to discuss these proposals further and, if possible, to include it as an option in the ongoing review of the Brussels I bis Regulation.

The author of this post is Michele Grassi, who is a post-doc at the University of Milan.


In 2010, Bechetti Energy Group (‘BEG’) commenced proceedings against Italy before the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR). The applicant complained that Italy had breached its obligations under Article 6(1) of the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) by failing to set aside an arbitral award rendered in a dispute between BEG and Enelpower, despite the apparent lack of impartiality of the arbitrator appointed by the opposing party. In particular, the concerned arbitrator had served as Vice-Chairman and member of the Board of Directors of Enel, Enelpower mother company, and had several professional links with the latter.

In May 2021, the ECtHR rendered its ruling and found that Italy had in fact violated Article 6(1) ECHR. Nonetheless, the Strasbourg Court dismissed the applicant’s request to order the reopening of the domestic proceedings in which Italian courts rejected the appeal for nullity of the arbitral award. They did so on the assumption that

it is in principle for the Contracting States to decide how best to implement the Court’s judgments without unduly upsetting the principles of res judicata or legal certainty in civil litigation.

However, the Court stressed the

importance, for the effectiveness of the Convention system, of ensuring that domestic procedures are in place to allow a case to be revisited in the light of a finding that the safeguards of a fair hearing afforded by Article 6 have been violated.

The Revocation of Final Civil Judgments under Italian Law

Under Italian procedural law, revocation of final civil judgments (and the reopening of the respective proceedings) is only available in a limited number of cases, listed at Article 395 of the Italian code of civil procedure (CPC). This same provision also applies (in part) to arbitral awards pursuant to Article 831 CPC.

Before 2022, revocation was not available in case of breach of the ECHR rights (see the judgments of the Italian Constitutional Court of 26 May 2017 no. 123, and of 27 April 2018 no. 93). The situation has now changed, following a recent reform of the Italian code of civil procedure that introduced, among other things, a new reason for revocation of civil judgments that have been found in breach of the Convention by the ECtHR (Article 391-quater CPC).

Still, the new provision requires that three cumulative – and quite restrictive – conditions be met: (1) The violation must concern a right of status of a natural person; (2) The just satisfaction awarded by the Court pursuant to Article 41 ECHR must not be sufficient to remedy the consequences of the violation; (3) The revocation of the judgment must not affect the rights of third parties (i.e. parties that did not participate in the proceedings before the ECtHR).

Those conditions resemble the requirements for the reopening of domestic proceedings provided by the laws of other States parties to the ECHR (e.g., Article L 452-1 of the French code de l’organisation judiciaire or Article 510 of the Spanish code of civil procedure. See also the recommendation issued by the Committee of Ministers to member States, R(2000)2 of 19 January 2000). Still, the combined application of the above conditions significantly narrows the scope and effectiveness of the Italian remedy. In particular, it is apparent that Article 391-quater CPC cannot be applied in the BEG case, since the violation of the ECHR addressed in the case does not concern a right of status of a natural person.

The Position of the Italian Government

In light of the above, on 3 August 2022, the Italian government submitted an Action Report to the Secretariat of the Committee of Ministers. According to the Report: the Italian State had promptly paid to BEG the “just satisfaction” awarded by the ECtHR judgment (€ 51,400); the domestic civil proceedings that led to the violation of the ECHR had not been reopened, in compliance with the decision of the Court that dismissed the applicant’s request to that end; the Italian State considered to have fully discharged its obligations under Article 46 ECHR; BEG had commenced proceedings in Italy against the Italian government, the opposing party in the arbitral proceedings and the arbitrator concerned, seeking compensation of further damages.

The Position of the Applicant

On 27 January 2023, BEG submitted a Communication pursuant to Rule 9(1) of the Rules of the Committee of Ministers for the supervision of the execution of judgments, whereby it: confirmed that it had commenced proceedings against, inter alia, the concerned arbitrator for compensation of the relevant damages; contested the Italian government’s contention that the judgment only entailed the payment of the amount of just satisfaction awarded by the Court pursuant to Article 41 ECHR; contested the Italian government’s argument that it had no obligation to ensure the reopening of the domestic proceedings, because the Court had dismissed the applicant’s request to that effect; contended that, from a theoretical standpoint, the re-examination or reopening of the domestic proceedings would constitute an appropriate measure of restitutio in integrum to re-establish the situation which would have existed if the violation had not been committed. At the same time, it acknowledged that, under Italian procedural law, it was not possible to reopen the domestic proceedings; requested, as a result, full financial compensation of the damages suffered.

The Effects of the BEG judgment in Italy

The Committee of Ministers of the Council of Europe has not yet issued a final resolution and the supervision process is still pending. Accordingly, for the time being, the decision of Italian courts on the validity of the contested arbitral award still stands as res judicata. The applicant has not sought a revocation of the domestic judgment, as this remedy is not available under Italian procedural law, but it has rather commenced new proceedings, claiming full compensation of the relevant damages. Conversely, the Italian government contends to have fully discharged its international obligation to abide by the final judgment of the ECtHR by paying the just satisfaction awarded by the ECtHR.

One might then question the effectiveness of the ECtHR decision in this case. Following several years of litigation, the applicant is still bound by a decision that has been found in violation of its Convention rights. This is not the place to elaborate on the possible existence of an international obligation of the Italian State to ensure that the domestic proceedings are reopened, despite the ECtHR’s dismissal of the applicant’s claim to that end. I personally think that this is the case, based on the State’s customary law obligation to ensure the cessation of international wrongful acts and to make full reparation for the injury caused. Moreover, in a recent decision against Greece, the same Strasbourg Court held that “the taking of measures by the respondent State to ensure that the proceedings before the Court of Cassation are reopened, if requested, would constitute appropriate redress for the violation of the applicant’s rights” (see Georgiou v Greece, 14 March 2023, app. no. 57378/18).

What is worth mentioning – especially in light of the recent decision of the French Cour de Cassation, reported in the post by Gilles Cuniberti on this blog – are the possible side effects of the BEG judgment, concerning the recognizability of the arbitral award at stake outside Italy. Indeed, according to well established case-law of the ECtHR, requested States shall refuse the recognition and enforcement of foreign judgments if the parties’ procedural rights were infringed in the State of origin (see Pellegrini v. Italy, 20 June 2000, app. no. 30882/96; Avotiņš v Latvia, 23 May 2016, app. no. 17502/07; Dolenc v Slovenia, 20 October 2022, app. no. 20256/20). This might explain why the Cour de Cassation did not focus on the possible irreconcilability between the Albanian judgment, whose recognition was sought in France, and the arbitral award between BEG and Enelpower. Nonetheless, it might still be quite contradictory to hold that a foreign decision cannot be enforced due to the party’s attempt to “evade” an award that has been found in violation of the Convention right to fair proceedings.

This post was written by Felix M. Wilke.


Many papers and posts have already appeared on the EU rule of law crisis, in particular on serious doubts regarding the independence and impartiality of the judiciary in certain Member States. In light of the recent judgment against Poland (C-204/21), more are likely to follow. For the most part, the discussion concerns potential reactions under primary law and the effects the crisis already has had on the European Arrest Warrant. There have been some predictions that the crisis also would affect judicial cooperation in civil and commercial matters (e.g. by Frąckowiak-Adamska). Indeed, how could it not? In this post I want to flag some issues and ideas to be fleshed out in a later publication, based on a presentation I gave at the IAPL Summer School 2023. As always, comments are very much welcome.

Mutual Trust and its Limits

It all goes back to mutual trust. According to the CJEU, mutual trust in particular means the presumption that other Member States comply with EU law and with the Charter of Fundamental Rights (Opinion 2/13). If we know or have very good evidence that another Member State’s judiciary is not independent or impartial, and the Member State thus cannot guarantee the right to a fair trial, this assumption seems to have been rebutted. One can hardly do business as usual, i.e. continue to apply instruments like Brussels Ibis that are based on mutual trust as if nothing had changed.

We actually have famous precedent for that from the field of judicial cooperation in criminal matters. In LM, the Court of Justice held that the “real risk” of a breach of the fundamental right to an independent tribunal “is capable of permitting the executing judicial authority to refrain, by way of exception, from giving effect to a [European Arrest Warrant]”. Granted, Article 1(3) of the Framework Decision on the European Arrest Warrant contains the express admonition that the Decision does not modify the Member States’ obligation to respect fundamental rights – even though the immediately prior provision of paragraph 2 requires them to execute any European Arrest Warrant based on mutual recognition.

In one area based on mutual trust, then, courts in one Member State can under certain circumstances review whether trust is actually warranted. This has been dubbed “horizontal Solange” (Canor), as opposed to “reverse Solange” (von Bogdandy et al.) and the good old regular “Solange” (Germany’s Constitutional Court). As long assolange – there are no systemic violations of the rule of law, each Member State should cooperate with the others. So, should we pull a “horizontal Solange” in civil and commercial matters? Should it perhaps be a “modified horizontal Solange”, adjusted to the specifics of civil proceedings?

Horizontal Solange as Part of Public Policy Reservations

One obvious answer is that we have been doing so in civil and commercial matters, anyway. For the Brussels Regime has always contained a public policy reservation (now Art. 45(1)(a) Brussels Ibis). Public policy is the classic tool of trust management (M. Weller). It is accepted that violations of procedural fundamental rights in another Member State can trigger this reservation. While Brussels Ibis lacks a clear statement on fundamental rights like Article 1(3) Framework Decision on the European Arrest Warrant, the obligation to respect the fundamental rights of the Charter exists as a matter of course when Member States are “implementing” EU law (Article 51(1) of the Charter). Thus, even if the vague Recital 38 Brussels Ibis did not exist, public policy must be interpreted against the backdrop of the Charter. More importantly, even instruments of judicial cooperation in civil and commercial matters without a written public policy reservation must be interpreted as allowing a review of potential fundamental rights violations in another Member State.

But to rely on public policy does not come without obstacles. Should the burden of proof rest with the applicant even where there are systemic deficiencies in another Member State? Should an application even be necessary? The seriousness of the rule of law problems and their relation to the public interest might suggest a negative answer, but this would likely ask too much of those tasked with enforcing foreign judgments, in particular non-judicial bodies. And what about the unwritten condition of exhaustion of all remedies in the Member State of origin (Diageo Brands)? Some would say that it does not make sense, period. At least it does not make sense if the foreign judiciary as such does not meet the standards of independence and impartiality. Systemic deficiencies obviate the exhaustion requirement as it itself is based on mutual trust.

Doubts about the Existence of “Courts” and “Judgments”

Speaking of independence and impartiality: Has not the CJEU held in Pula Parking – even though the actual problem was that Croatian notaries did not conduct inter partes proceedings – that these two features characterize “courts” for the purposes of Brussels Ibis? Without them, a national body is no “court”. Without being a “court”, it cannot give “judgments” within the meaning of Article 2(a) Brussels I bis. This calls into question already the scope of application of Chapter III of Brussels I bis (and, thinking it through to the end, also the application of the lis pendens rules). If this is not met, there would be no recognition and enforcement. The result thus would seem to be the same as after a successful application relying on public policy.

The scope of application, however, must be checked ex officio, and a failure to exhaust national remedies in the Member State of origin clearly could not change the nature of body that gave the decision. Hence, the requirements could be quite different from the public policy reservation. On the other hand, again, to require an assessment of the independence and impartiality of other Member States’ bodies in every single case would put the institutions in the Member State addressed in over their heads.

Exploiting Private Parties?

Moreover, one could characterize this approach with some merit as exploiting civil and commercial matters, ultimately: the parties of such matters to address a crisis not of their making. I feel a certain unease about this, and I do not think I am the only one who feels that way. Granted, to make a Member State a less attractive forum could be an effective tool of bringing about change in that State. And it does seem paradoxical to continue to apply an instrument of mutual trust where serious doubt has been cast on this trust.

Yet we can hardly blame a claimant for having pursued her claim in a certain Member State, even less so when jurisdiction in that State was based on entirely uncontroversial grounds, perhaps even on Brussels Ibis itself. To put a stop to EU judicial cooperation in civil matters without an individual violation of the defendant’s/debtor’s fundamental rights also would be questionable from the perspective of the claimant’s/judgment creditor’s fundamental rights. The ECtHR has recognized that the enforcement (even) of foreign judgments is an integral part of the guarantee of Article 6(1) ECHR (Hornsby v. Greece, McDonald v. France, Avotiņš v. Latvia). Then again, if one negated the scope of application of Brussels Ibis, at least national rules of recognition and enforcement could still apply.

Tentative Conclusions

I am inclined to let national bodies operate on the prima facie basis of a foreign “judgment” for now. There is less risk of legitimizing such bodies this way than accepting preliminary references from them (as the CJEU does, C-132/20). A potential gamechanger would be a decision under Article 7(2) TEU. Yes, such a decision seems unlikely. But the inadequacy of solutions under primary law do not imply the necessity of sweeping modifications of the rules for cross-border proceedings.

I would relegate the rule of law issues to the public policy clauses (whether express or implied). This implies court proceedings upon application (typically) of the debtor. The interpretation and application of the public policy reservation must sufficiently accommodate the applicant’s right to a fair trial. For example, if the applicant can establish systemic rule of law violations, she must not have exhausted all remedies in the State of origin. One could also be more liberal with the requirement of “manifest” violations. Additionally, I would advocate for a similar unwritten exception to the lis pendens rules, in line with LM. If there is the “real risk” that a later judgment from another Member State could not be recognized and enforced due to public policy, there is no point in staying one’s own proceedings. It will be hard to establish this real risk, to be sure. But that is not necessarily bad – civil and commercial matters are not the right place to try to solve systemic problems.

This post was written by Cécile Pellegrini who is Associate Professor at Lyon Catholic University (UCLy). It summarises a contribution to Metaverse and the Law, edited by L. Di Mateo and M. Cannarsa, Edward Elgar Publishing, forthcoming.


The Metaverse Beyond Real Life

Beyond the world as we know it, often referred to by the acronym “IRL” (for “In Real Life”, stands the so-called “Metaverse”, a concept that private international lawyers are only beginning to embrace.

Coined 30 years ago in the prophetic “Snow Crash dystopic novel by Neil Stephenson, this Janus, both fearsome and full of promises, was described as a “form of human life and communication in a virtual three-dimensional space through a digital avatar”. Since the digital twins of Second Life (i.e. a free access software allowing users to embody virtual characters in a world created by the residents themselves) Metaverse has taken many shapes. Beyond its known main use as an online multiplayer 3D game (such as Fortnite and Roblox) empowered by virtual and augmented reality (“VR” and “AR”), it has already found numerous applications evolving from being “a place” to shop, work, advertise, buy virtual land, be educated or trained, get a doctor’s appointment, get married, attend a court hearing, travel, be entertained, trade and use cryptocurrencies, sell real-world goods virtually or create and use nonfungible tokens (“NFTs”). The list could go on.

Despite its growing importance, highlighted with the recent rebranding of Meta, the Metaverse is neither defined nor  regulated. Attempts to streamline common features differ from one expert to another (for e.g., see here, here and here). However, all retain the persistence of identity and objects, a shared environment, the use of avatars, synchronization, being three-dimensional, interoperability, and a user experience that is interactive, immersive, and social. For now, the word “Metaverse” itself appears as a catchall term for advanced technologies that point to these types of immersive virtual experiences accessible from anywhere in the world. In consequence, it calls for a more precise and common definition, especially in the perspective of its regulation.

The Metaverse Beyond Borders

Considering the international intrinsic nature of Metaverse litteraly located “beyond the universe”, conflict of laws questions are necessarily in order. Especially considering that such a transnational cyberspace is destined to become the privileged place of many international transactions bringing ineluctably their lots of conflicts. In the absence of international substantial regime, conflict of laws rules are called upon to play a decisive part in the identification of the applicable legal regime to those transactions.

The Metaverse or Several Metaverses?

Yet, when trying to consider the applicable law, there is no certainty on whether to address the Metaverse as a whole, the metaverses’ operators (many metaverses’ iterations exist, such as Decentraland, Sandbox, Roblox, or Horizon World) or the various situations arising from, or in the Metaverse. Indeed, a metaverse could either be seen as an online platform or as the future generation of our internet, i.e. the forthcoming Web3, following Web1 (accessing static webpages) and Web2 (interactive social experiences). Web3, which is a work in progress, will be about digital ownership within an open, decentralized environment and orchestrated with tokens. Whether we are looking at one single Metaverse (with a capital letter like “the Internet”) or at several metaverses (with a lower case as it refers to the technology) depends essentially on the metaverses’ interoperability. Several projects are working in that direction (such as Open Metaverse Interoperability Group, the web standardization body W3C, or Metaverse Standards Forum). If the various existing metaverses become interoperable in a close future, it will inter alia  allow for any transaction taking place in a given virtual world to be transferred in another. Enabling users to switch between multiple virtual reality platforms while “carrying” online properties together will become important, as users will be able to seamlessly switch between various platforms. This will facilitate users to engage in various projects that are taking place on multiple platforms. For instance, a user buying virtual items in the form of NFTs and obtaining titles in one virtual world will technically hold the same items in another virtual world. An avatar with a digital identity in one place would be the same in the other, and he/she could go from a work meeting in one virtual place to another.

For now, the single “Metaverse”, called for by all the prophetic dystopias and the Silicon Valley behemoths has given way to many growing virtual worlds unconnected one to another. There might still be a long way to go to develop the necessary access technologies before we can affirm the existence of a global Metaverse but its future existence seems ineluctable. Hence, the applicable legal framework to Metaverse depends on whether we consider the actual various existing metaverses as online platforms or if we take a prospective view, and already consider the upcoming unique “Metaverse”.  Based on those two scenarios, the conflict of laws solutions differ.

Metaverse as a Platform: The Growing Importance of the “Directed Activity Criterion” and its Inadequacy

Most of the metaverses behave like online platforms. As such, they feature a contract-based architecture where accepting general terms and conditions (“GTCs”) is most of the time a prerequisite to access their services. Far from being an extraterritorial creation with its private own rules – as called for by proponents of Lawrence Lessig – such terms and conditions, whenever the contract is concluded with a European user-consumer, may trigger the application of EU protective rules for consumers, regardless of the defendant’s domicile outside the Union.

This scenario is increasingly frequent since the exchange of personal data is deemed equivalent to a price and constitutes consideration (in particular based on Directive (EU) 2019/770 regarding the supply of digital content and digital services, Art. 3.1). As a consequence, the contractual relationship between the services’ provider and the user answers to the European definition of a B2C contract. It will especially be the case when the activity of the platform is directed toward European consumers-users. Such rules are far from being ignored by large players.

For example, Meta’s T&C’s choice of jurisdiction clause conforms with EU consumer protection as it cares to distinguish conditions for businesses from conditions for consumers  especially when they are in the EU. The Brussels I Recast Regulation helds the protective forum of the consumers domicile competent, whenever the contract has been concluded with a person who pursues commercial or professional activities in the Member State of the consumer’s domicile or, by any means, directs such activities to that Member State or to several States including that Member State, (Brussels I Recast, Art. 17 & 18). In the same time, any choice of jurisdiction clause is strictly regulated (Brussels I Recast, Art. 19). A choice of law in Metaverse’s T&C is also limited by the protective rules of Rome I Regulation and especially, Article 6 on Consumer contracts, which also resorts to the “directed activity” criterion as interpreted by the Pammer and Alpenhof case law (see Rome I Reg., Recital 24).

With this view, all the difficulties already encountered to define connecting factors regarding applicable law to online service operators are not new. As an example (outside the B2C legal sphere), we can just think of the difficulty to establish the place of performance of an immaterial service in a metaverse. The “directed activity” criterion can be criticised for its imprecision and growing inadequacy with the development of worldwide websites intended for a global audience. Pushed to the extreme, this criterion becomes completely irrelevant in the case of a unique interoperable Metaverse, that, contrary to a website which can answer to indications as to whether it addresses to a specific national audience, addresses a worldwide audience with no distinction. We can observe that the inadequacy of this “directed activity” criterion is progressively leading to a shift toward “unilateral extraterritorial European protection” (as already noticed on this blog in the context of the Digital Services Act).

EU Regulation of Metaverses’ Platforms Operators

Depending on the metaverse in question and the way it operates, the definition of platform could well be retained for the purposes of applying European Regulations. When they answer the definition, platforms operators are facing growing EU substantial-law regulations with extraterritorial effects, whether it is the P2B platform (see esp. Recital 9), the GDPR (Art. 3), the recent “European constitution for the Internet” combining the DSA (Art. 2.1) and DMA (Art. 1.2), the proposed ePrivacy Regulation (Art. 3.1) or the proposed Data Act (Art 1.2).

These EU instruments follow a strict “marketplace” approach  subjecting every service aimed at people located within EU territory to their provisions, independently of where the service operator is established or administered. This clearly reflects the will of the European legislator to ensure the primacy of EU internal market law and the protection of EU fundamental rights, underpinned by the European values in the digital space. Worldwide service providers aiming at the European market should be held under high European standards such as a high level of consumer protection and personal data protection. But in the future, metaverses’ operators could well be merged into a unique Metaverse and in that case, the question of applicable law will appear somehow differently.

Metaverse Considered as the Future Web3: A Methodology Shift?

No unique legal category applies to Internet as such. EU Private International Law rules rather approach each legal situation/relationship arising out of this “cyberterritory” (see eg here). In that view, it could be considered that determining the law applicable to online situations in the Metaverse merely bring the same difficulties already met with Internet’s situations ‘immateriality’. For example, it is difficult to resort to the “place of provision of service” connecting factor to determine the applicable law to an online contract of provision of service or the use of the “place of the harmful event” connecting factor in order to locate the law of the damage when a tortious situation is committed online that is everywhere at the same time on the globe.

These difficulties are known of PIL experts and sometimes found solutions. In order to answer these new digital situations, conflict of laws rules adapted progressively. In the absence of tangible material elements, the classic solutions have consisted in detaching localisation from material reality. Fictitious location have been favored considering that it remains possible to give a territorial account of immaterial phenomena still marked by some tangible elements. For instance, the difficulties of locating harmful situations in digital spaces has led to shift toward more personal connections as fictional localisations to identify the seat of digital situations. These connections often favor thevictim’s or plaintiff’s center of interests and such a tendency is particularly spreading in the area of cybertorts (see the Roundtable on the method of localisation in digital space). However, such adaptation is reaching its limits. With the upcoming Metaverse, even the few existing tangible connections disappear,with the new underlying use of the blockchain technology, often seen as the bedrock on which Metaverse will rest.

Blockchain as the Metaverse’s Bedrock

The question of how the different blockchains will be able to become technically interoperable is not yet settled, but blockchain technology will contribute to the interoperable development of the Metaverse and to generate a virtual economy where nonfungible tokens (NFTs) are traded. For all the new possibilities it bring, blockchain technology will be the privileged way within metaverses to make all type of transactions, using cryptocurrencies, tokens and associate the later with smart contracts.

The use of crypto-currencies has already given rise to questions about the identification of the applicable law and resulted in Europe in the recent “MICA” Regulation. For crypto assets left out of the text, and in expectation for some States to adopt the recent Unidroit Principles on Digital Assets and Private Law, it is it far from clear how they are acquired and transferred and what law governs such transactions in a transnational Metaverse. Characterisation and transfer of property still need to be addressed and raise many concerns (see the upcoming joint Project between UNIDROIT and HCCH here and the work of the EAPIL Working Group here).

Real conflict of laws difficulty lies with decentralized public blockchains (i.e. open and permissionless as opposed to consortium or private blockchains) that will mostly be in use in the Metaverse. With blockchain, the extensive degree of immateriality undermines the ability to resort to connecting factors actually in use. Seemingly insurmountable problems occur because decentralized ledgers with no physical connecting factors are reluctant to any localisation exercise. Blockchain offers few useful connection points in PIL either through traditional connecting factors or even through the use of fictitious connections. There are no first place of distribution or place of registration. There are also no intermediaries or account providers.

Although, that last affirmation could be nuanced.  Even if it is often claimed that blockchain ‘disintermediates’ the economy, this remains to be seen as, for the time being, more intermediaries (the cryptos and NFTs’ platforms are multipying) have been created by the technology than replaced. Here, one solution would maybe lie in setting obligations on the intermediary secondary platforms creating and exchanging NFTs and giving access to metaverses. However, even this would only partially bring solutions as the usual links to the territory of a State, however tenuous, do not even exist in the case of blockchain where transactions are anonymous.  This is why, behind the avatars, digital civil identity is becoming a major stake for the national sovereignty of States (on that question, see here). Hence, from known difficulties encountered to locate the seat of a situation in the Metaverse as a cyberspace, we move forward to major difficulties regarding the identification of parties to Metaverses’ transactions. With user’s anonymity in public blockchains, the lack of any grip between the situation and any national legal system, seat location becomes completely fictitious. The unseen immateriality, decentralization and anonymity characteristics of blockchain in the Metaverse are therefore calling for a change of regulatory approach.

This post was written by Giesela Rühl, LL.M. (Berkeley), Humboldt-University of Berlin, and is also available via conflictoflaws.net.


On 25 April 2023 the German Federal Ministry of Justice (Bundesministerium der Justiz – BMJ) has published a bill relating to the establishment of (international) commercial courts in Germany. It sets out to strengthen the German civil justice system for (international) commercial disputes and aims to offer parties an attractive package for the conduct of civil proceedings in Germany. At the same time, it is the aim of the bill to improve Germany’s position vis-à-vis recognized litigation and arbitration venues – notably London, Amsterdam, Paris and Singapore. Does this mean that foreign courts and international commercial arbitration tribunals will soon face serious competition from German courts?

English-language Proceedings in All Instances

Proposals to improve the settlement of international commercial disputes before German courts have been discussed for many years. In 2010, 2014, 2018 and 2021, the upper house of the German Federal Parliament (Bundesrat) introduced bills to strengthen German courts in (international) commercial disputes. However, while these bills met with little interest and were not even discussed in the lower house of Parliament (Bundestag) things look much brighter this time: The coalition agreement of the current Federal Government, in office since 2021, promises to introduce English-speaking special chambers for international commercial disputes. The now published bill of the Federal Ministry of Justice can, therefore, be seen as a first step towards realizing this promise. It heavily builds on the various draft laws of the Bundesrat including a slightly expanded version that was submitted to the Bundestag in 2022.

The bill allows the federal states (Bundesländer) to establish special commercial chambers at selected regional courts (Landgerichte) which shall, if the parties so wish, conduct the proceedings comprehensively in English. Appeals and complaints against decisions of these chambers shall be heard in English before English-language senates at the higher regional courts (Oberlandesgerichte). If the value in dispute exceeds a threshold value of 1 million Euros and if the parties so wish, these special senates may also hear cases in first instance. Finally, the Federal Supreme Court (Bundesgerichtshof) shall be allowed to conduct proceedings in English. Should the bill be adopted – which seems more likely than not in light of the coalition agreement – it will, thus, be possible to conduct English-language proceedings in at least two, maybe even three instances. Compared to the status quo, which limits the use of English to the oral hearing (cf. Section 185(2) of the Court Constitution Act) and the presentation of English-language documents (cf. Section 142(3) of the Code of Civil Procedure) this will be a huge step forward. Nonetheless, it seems unlikely that adoption of the bill will make Germany a much more popular forum for the settlement of international commercial disputes.

Remaining Disadvantages vis-à-vis International Commercial Arbitration

To begin with, the bill – like previous draft laws – is still heavily focused on English as the language of the court. Admittedly, the bill – following the draft law of the Bundesrat of March 2022 – also proposes changes that go beyond the language of the proceedings. For example, the parties are to be given the opportunity to request a verbatim record of the oral proceedings. In addition, business secrets are to be better protected. However, these proposals cannot outweigh the numerous disadvantages of German courts vis-à-vis arbitration. For example, unlike in arbitration, the parties have no influence on the personal composition of the court. As a consequence, they have to live with the fact that their – international – legal dispute is decided exclusively by German (national) judges, who rarely have the degree of specialization that parties find before international arbitration courts. In addition, the digital communication and technical equipment of German courts is far behind what has been standard in arbitration for many years. And finally, one must not forget that there is no uniform legal framework for state judgments that would ensure their uncomplicated worldwide recognition and enforcement.

Weak Reputation of German Substantive Law

However, the bill will also fail to be a resounding success because it ignores the fact that the attractiveness of German courts largely depends on the attractiveness of German law. To be sure, German courts may also apply foreign law. However, their real expertise – and thus their real competitive advantage especially vis-à-vis foreign courts – lies in the application of German law, which, however, enjoys only a moderate reputation in (international) practice. Among the disadvantages repeatedly cited by practitioners are, on the one hand, the numerous general clauses (e.g. §§ 138, 242 of the German Civil Code), which give the courts a great deal of room for interpretation, and, on the other hand, the strict control of general terms and conditions in B2B transactions. In addition – and irrespective of the quality of its content – German law is also not particularly accessible to foreigners. Laws, decisions and literature are only occasionally available in English (or in official English translation).

Disappointing Numbers in Amsterdam, Paris and Singapore

Finally, it is also a look at other countries that have set up international commercial courts in recent years that shows that the adoption of the bill will not make German courts a blockbuster. Although some of these courts are procedurally much closer to international commercial arbitration or to the internationally leading London Commercial Court, their track record is – at least so far – rather disappointing.

This applies first and foremost to the Netherlands Commercial Court (NCC), which began its work in Amsterdam in 2019 and offers much more than German courts will after the adoption and implementation of the bill: full English proceedings both in first and second instance, special rules of procedure inspired by English law on the one hand and international commercial arbitration law on the other, a court building equipped with all technical amenities, and its own internet-based communication platform. The advertising drum has also been sufficiently beaten. And yet, the NCC has not been too popular so far: in fact, only 14 judgments have been rendered in the first four years of its existence (which is significantly less than the 50 to 100 annual cases expected when the court was set up).

The situation in Paris is similar. Here, a new chamber for international commercial matters (chambre commerciale internationale) was established at the Cour d’appel in 2018, which hears cases (at least in parts) in English and which applies procedural rules that are inspired by English law and international arbitration. To be sure, the latter cannot complain about a lack of incoming cases. In fact, more than 180 cases have been brought before the new chamber since 2018. However, the majority of these proceedings are due to the objective competence of the Chamber for international arbitration, which is independent of the intention of the parties. In contrast, it is not known in how many cases the Chamber was independently chosen by the parties. Insiders, however, assume that the numbers are “negligible” and do not exceed the single-digit range.

Finally, the Singapore International Commercial Court (SICC), which was set up in 2015 with similarly great effort and ambitions as the Netherlands Commercial Court, is equally little in demand. Since its establishment, it has been called upon only ten times by the parties themselves. In all other cases in which it has been involved, this has been at the instigation of the Singapore High Court, which can refer international cases to the SICC under certain conditions.

No Leading Role for German Courts in the Future

In the light of all this, there is little to suggest that the bill, which is rather cautious in its substance and focuses on the introduction of English as the language of proceedings, will lead to an explosion – or even only to a substantial increase – in international proceedings before German courts. While it will improve – even though only slightly – the framework conditions for the settlement of international disputes, expectations regarding the effect of the bill should not be too high.

— Note: Together with Yip Man from Singapore Management University Giesela Rühl is the author of a comparative study on new specialized commercial courts and their role in cross-border litigation. Conducted under the auspices of the International Academy of Comparative Law (IACL) the study will be published with Intersentia in the course of 2023.

The author of this post is Uglješa Grušić, Associate Professor, Faculty of Laws, University College London.


As has already been reported on this blog, on 29 March 2023 the European Commission published a study to support the preparation of a report on the application of the Brussels I bis Regulation. This is an important and potentially very influential document.

It is because of its importance and potential influence that I want to share my disappointment with the part of the study that deals with jurisdiction in employment matters (pp 165-171). This part of the study contains some obvious mistakes and omissions.

Let me turn first to the mistakes. The study says this about the comparison between the 2012 Brussels I bis Regulation and the 2001 Brussels I Regulation on p 165:

[Section 5 of Chapter II] remains substantially the same in the Brussels Ia Regulation, with a small change in Article 20(1) (previously Article 18(1)), to which was added ‘(…) in the case of proceedings brought against an employer, point 1 of Article 8’. This insertion clarifies rather than changes the Article’s scope of application.

The study makes the same point on p 166:

The Regulation remains unchanged regarding the provisions addressing jurisdiction relating to individual employment contracts, except for an alteration inserted in Article 20(1).

These statements are not entirely correct. In addition to specifying that employees can join third parties pursuant to Article 8(1), the Brussels I bis Regulation introduces one further novelty in Section 5 of Chapter II. This novelty is the rule in Article 21(2), which provides that an employer not domiciled in a Member State may be sued in a court of a Member State in accordance with Article 21(1)(b), that is, in the courts for the habitual place of work if the habitual place of work is in the EU or, in the absence of the habitual place of work, in the courts for the engaging place of business if the engaging place of business is in the EU.

Another, seemingly innocuous mistake is the wrong citation of an academic commentary on which the authors of this part of the study heavily rely, namely Louse Merrett’s chapter on ‘Jurisdiction over Individual Contracts of Employment’ in Dickinson and Lein’s edited collection on the Brussels I bis Regulation. The mistake in the citation is that Merrett’s chapter was not published in 2020, as the study says, but in 2015. The relevance of this mistake lies in the fact that the authors of this part of the study rely on Merrett’s chapter as supporting the claims made on p 166 that the “concerned parties are satisfied with the solutions adopted and its application in practice through court judgments” and that “[t]here is little case-law related to jurisdiction on individual employment contracts, suggesting that this section has not been subject to much litigation”. Misciting Merrett’s chapter creates a wrong sense of complacency: if a leading scholar writes in a piece published relatively recently that Section 5 of Chapter II works well and there is little case-law, then the implication is that the European Commission need not worry too much about this part of the Brussels I bis Regulation. The problem, however, is that Merrett’s chapter was published in 2015, the same year when this regulation started to apply, and a lot has happened since then.

This brings me to the omissions. The study was completed in January 2023 and was published on 29 March 2023. The study was largely informed by the case law of the CJEU. The problem with the part of the study that deals with jurisdiction in employment matters is that it was outdated the moment it was completed because the authors did not take into account the controversial judgment in ROI Land Investments Ltd v FD that was handed down on 20 October 2022.

While persons domiciled outside the EU can, generally speaking, be sued in the Member State courts under national jurisdictional rules (Article 6(1)), employers domiciled outside the EU can only be sued in the courts for the habitual place of work or, absent a habitual place of work, in the courts for the engaging place of business if the habitual place of work/engaging place of business is located in the EU. The CJEU has clarified in ROI Land Investments Ltd v FDthat, if the habitual place of work/engaging place of business is located in the EU, employers domiciled outside the EU cannot be sued in the Member State courts under national jurisdictional rules. This makes little sense from the perspective of employee protection. As Recital 18 states, ‘[i]n relation to…employment contracts, the weaker party should be protected by rules of jurisdiction more favourable to his interests than the general rules.” ROI Land Investments Ltd v FD achieves the opposite effect.

The purpose of this post is to indicate that there are deficiencies in the part of the study that deals with jurisdiction in employment matters. Consequently, the European Commission should approach this part of the study with care and look at other sources when preparing its report on the application of Section 5 of Chapter II.

For what it’s worth, I have already shared on this blog my proposals for reform of this part of the regulation.

On 9 March 2022, the CJEU ruled on the concept of “consumer” under Article 17(1)(c) of Brussels I bis Regulation (Wurth Automotive, Case C-177/22).

According to the CJEU, national court may take into account the “impression” created by a person’s conduct towards the other contracting party in order to deny the former consumer status. Behaving like a trader may therefore lead to the consumer being deprived of his/her procedural protection provided by Brussels I bis Regulation, Section 4. Although this solution is already found in the Gruber judgment (paras 51-52), the facts of this new case are quite different. It is therefore questionable whether the analogical reasoning followed by the Court is fully justified.

Facts and Issue

A person, domiciled in Austria bought a second-hand car over the Internet from a German seller. In practice, however, she had asked her partner, a provider of an online car sales platform, to handle the purchase for her. The contract mentioned that it was concluded between the buyer, described as a “trader” and the German seller. The buyer did not ask for any modification. A few months later, she brought an action for warranty of hidden defects against the German seller before the Austrian court.

Did the Austrian court have jurisdiction based on the consumer’s domicile pursuant to Article 18(1) Brussels I bis Regulation?  And to begin with, was there a “consumer” at all?

The German seller argued that the contract was a B2B contract and raised an objection to international jurisdiction. The Austrian court referred the matter to the Court of Justice to find out how to overcome the factual uncertainties surrounding the characterisation of the “consumer” in this case.

Classical Criterion: Private Consumption’s Purposes of the Contract

As recalled by the CJEU, the concept of consumer within the meaning of Article 17(1) of the Brussels I bis Regulation is based on the purposes (present or future) pursued by the conclusion of the contract. These purposes must be (for the most part) private or, put differently, for non-business use. The rest, in particular the professional status of the person (i.e., whether the person is employed or self-employed) does not matter. In the present case, the buyer was the regular web designer for her partner’s online car sales platform. The only question to be analysed by the referring court here is therefore whether this car was purchased for personal purposes or (mainly) for the pursuit of a professional activity.

Proof of the Private Consumption’s Purposes: From Objective Assessment to Behavioural Analysis

In order to ascertain the private purposes of the contract, the national court must first and foremost rely on the evidence which objectively results from the case in question. But what if this evidence is insufficient? According to the CJEU, the national court may take into account more subjective, “psychological” elements, by checking whether the alleged consumer’s behaviour gave the impression to the other party (i.e. the trader) that she was acting for business purposes.

Consequently, the Court of justice held that

even if the contract does not as such serve a non-negligible business purpose, … the individual must be regarded, in view of the impression he or she has given to the other party acting in good faith, as having renounced the protection afforded by those provisions (para 32, by analogy, Gruber, C‑464/01, para 53).

Hence, a B2C dispute can be removed from Section 4 of Brussels I bis Regulation by a form of “implied waiver” by the consumer.

How to Assess the Behaviour of the Customer?

In order to assess the behaviour of the buyer, the national court must rely on a body of evidence showing “the impression created by that person’s conduct on the other contracting party” (Section 2 of the operative part). In the case at hand, this impression could be revealed (inter alia) by a lack of a reaction on the part of the person relying on the status of consumer to the terms of the contract designating him or her as a trader, by the fact that she had concluded the contract through a professional intermediary in the field of covered by the contract (her partner) or by the fact that, after the contract was signed, the latter had asked the seller about the possibility of mentioning the VAT on the invoice (Section 2 of the operative part).

In addition, where it proves impossible to determine certain circumstances surrounding the conclusion of a contract, the national court must assess the evidentiary value of the available information “in accordance with the rules of national law, including whether the benefit of the doubt must be given to the person relying on the status of consumer” (Section 3 of the operative part). This is a classic expression of procedural autonomy in EU law. Even though the “consumer” within the meaning of Article 17 of the Brussels I bis Regulation is an autonomous concept of EU law, the national court’s assessment shall be based on the lex fori (within the limits of the principles of equivalence and effectiveness).

Critical Assessment

In contrast to the Gruber judgment, the present case did not involve a contract with a twofold private and professional purpose. It was thus not a question of assessing the “non-negligible business purpose” of the contract in order to exclude consumer procedural protection. Therefore, the consideration of the behaviour of the consumer acting as a trader does not have the same scope here as in Gruber. The CJEU is certainly aware of this since it insists on the “good faith” of the professional contractual party as a counterbalance (paras 34 and 37). The good faith of the other party is a necessary condition for denying the consumer his/her procedural protective regime, whereas in theory he/she should be entitled to it in the case of a contract concluded for entirely private purposes.

The implicit reason why the consumer may lose procedural protection is that traders need legal certainty in contractual matters. Either they are dealing with a consumer and they know (and can anticipate) that the consumer enjoys a favourable regime. Or they are doing business with a partner of their own category and party autonomy fully applies. Vis-à-vis a careless or negligent consumer who, inter alia, did not deny entering into the contract as a “trader”, it can be considered that his/her professional co-contracting party was not able to anticipate and integrate the “risk” of concluding a contract with a weaker party.

From a rational point of view, the solution can be approved. But based on the functional logic of consumerism, offering a derogatory regime to protect the weaker party, one may have a doubt. Was the poker player in the judgment Personal Exchange International (analysed here) more of a consumer than this buyer of a second-hand car? The methodology provided by the Court of Justice is not easy to handle and implies a tricky case-by-case analysis. It is therefore not sure that in the end legal certainty will really be strengthened.

“A rose is a rose is a rose”, goes the famous quote. It indicates a basic, intuitive truth: the words we use to designate things usually have the ability to evoke a specific imagery and the mainstream understanding of the “essence” of such things. Usually: this specification is essential in current EU private international law (EUPIL), which is based on judicial cooperation – and therefore communication – among 27 different legal systems, with all the difficulties this might entail. In particular, in this Tower of Babbel of legal languages, some of the legal concepts used by uniform EUPIL Regulations may carry an avoidable ambiguity and present problematic gray areas, where “a rose” might intuitively be “a rose” for some Member States, while appearing like a totally different exotic flower to the eyes of others.

This post focuses on the problems raised by the notions of “judgment” or “decision”, which are in turn strictly linked to the notion of “court”. In this respect, the principle of autonomous interpretation of EUPIL concepts, as established by the CJEU since 1976, seems to have undergone a certain evolution, and more recent case law has lent a remarkably multifaceted character to the interpretive approach to shape the meaning of those notions.  The preliminary ruling handed down by the CJEU on 15th November 2022 in C-646/20, Senatsverwaltung für Inneres und Sport, as well as the fact of this case, are particularly relevant for this purpose.

The Root of the Problem

The uncertainties surrounding the meaning of the notion of “judgment” in EUPIL stem from two main factors.

The first trigger lies in the limited competences of the EU, whose legislative action is bound by the principles of conferral, subsidiarity and proportionality. As a result, large areas of the Member States’ private and procedural laws remain, to the present days, untouched by the process of EU harmonization or approximation, with domestic legislators maintaining high degrees of discretion in shaping their internal laws. This is not necessarily a problem for private international law (PIL), whose raison d’être is, precisely, legal diversity. The problem of characterisation – ie the alternative between lege fori and lege causae – is a leitmotif of PIL and has engaged scholars over centuries. The “real problem” arises when EU law forces the private international lawyer to think out of the box of this traditional alternative, with the CJEU having since long established that, in interpreting the legal notions used by EUPIL instruments, “reference must be made not to the law of one of the States concerned but, first, to the objectives and scheme of [each instrument] and, secondly, to the general principles which stem from the corpus of the national legal systems’. This is the famous LTU v Eurocontrol principle, set out by case 29/76, § 3. I will come back to this principle in a moment.

The second trigger of said “communication difficulties” is inherent to, and exacerbated by, the current structure of EU law in general, and of EUPIL in particular. In the latter, the EU legislator has notably adopted a piecemeal approach to harmonization. As a result, EUPIL is composed by a wide array of subject-specific Regulations, each having a limited material scope of application and covering a particular sub-area of civil law. While the legal notions used across different EUPIL instruments could, in principle, profit from the principle of inter-textual interpretation to receive similar meanings (cf Recitals 7 of the Rome I and Rome II Regulations), the CJEU has warned against a too liberal use if this approach. In C-45/13, Kainz, the Court held that the objective of consistency cannot, in any event, lead to interpreting the notions used by a specific Regulation in a manner which is unconnected to the scheme and objectives pursued by the concerned instrument (§ 20). This is to say that the meaning of uniform legal concepts used by several EU law Regulations could undergo important sectoral variations in accordance with the specific material scope, scheme of objectives of each of them.

This problem acquires a particular importance in relation to some notions, such as the concept of “judgment”, that are used cross-cuttingly by almost all EUPIL Regulations. In a previous post, I pointed to the ambiguity of the term ‘court’ and to the different drafting techniques (and wordings) adopted by the EU legislator with respect to statutory definitions thereof. The same reasoning could be extended to the (bordering) notions of ‘judgment’ or ‘decisions’. The CJEU acknowledged the disrupting effect of these two triggers in a judgment rendered in April 2022, where it remarked that, owing to the limited (material) scope of application of EUPIL Regulations, and lacking a complete unification of Member States’ laws, ‘certain types of proceedings and court judgments in one Member State do not necessarily have an equivalent in the other Member States’ (Case C-568/20, H Limited, commented on this blog here and here). This is precisely the problem of  the “exotic rose”.

The LTU Criteria under a Growing Pressure?

Case C-646/20, Senatsverwaltung für Inneres und Sport is a good example thereof. As previously reported on this blog (here, here and here), this case concerned the recognition, in a Member State (Germany) of the dissolution of a marriage established in an agreement between spouses and pronounced by a civil registrar of another Member State (Italy).

Born from the objective of easing the burden on the court system and making divorce procedures swifter in the most “unproblematic” cases of dissolution of marriage by mutual consent, the Italian rules on extra-judicial divorces caused some interpretive doubts in Germany, where the recognition of the resulting divorce deed was sought. Ultimately, the question raised by the referring German court cut down to the definition (and the outer boundaries) of the notions of ‘judgment’ and ‘court’ retained by the Brussels IIa Regulation. Consistently with the general principle set in LTU, the starting point of the reasoning is that no weight should be given, for these purposes, to the explicit characterization established under Italian law, which specifies that the agreement concluded before the civil registrar replaces judicial decisions relating, in particular, to the procedure for dissolution and termination of the civil effects of the marriage (§§ 22-23 of the judgment).

It is worth stressing that the field of family law presents a particular challenge for the “second prong” of the LTU principle, ie for the interpretative value of the “general principles stemming from the corpus of the national legal systems”.

The LTU judgment was handed down in 1976, within the framework of a much more limited EUPIL (limited to the 1968 Brussels Convention) and a much smaller and less “legally diverse” Community (made of just nine States, with all the parties to this Convention belonging to the civil law tradition, since  the UK, Ireland and Denmark only acceded to it in 1978). The possibility of identifying some “general principles”, common or at least familiar to all of those legal systems, was not, at the time, such a preposterous idea. Indeed, in the second prong of LTU, the Court seemed to draw inspiration from both Savigny’s idea of the community of law and Rabels’ comparative approach to characterization.

Several decades later, and within the framework of a much bigger and more diverse Union, the viability and practical usefulness of said approach could be doubted, especially with respect those branches of private (and civil procedural) law that are characterized by remarkable variations at the domestic level. Over the last decade, several Member States have undertaken wide-ranging (and non-coordinated) reforms in a variety of fields, such as debt recovery or divorce law and divorce proceedings, having adopted in this respect a variety of solutions.

Concerning the latter, a common denominator of divorce reforms consists in the momentum gained by extrajudicial divorces, which have been introduced by 9 Member States (see here for the complete legal references to these reforms). Besides this general common feature (the devolution of divorce proceedings to a non-judicial body), the system set in place by said reforms vary greatly from country to country.

Firstly, there is no common solution as concerns the identification of the (non-judicial) authority empowered to hear divorce proceedings. Portugal, Italy and Estonia have chosen to delegate such proceedings to the Civil Registry Office. In Estonia, this competence is shared with the notary. The notary is also the designated authority for Latvia, Romania, France, Greece, Spain and Slovenia. Secondly, there is no common take on the breath of the devolution of divorce proceedings to non-judicial authorities. It seems (this premise is essential given the language barrier and the scarce information available in English with respect to certain jurisdictions) that in some Member States, these non-judicial authorities exercise a mandatory and exclusive jurisdiction over divorce proceedings. This means, in practice, that there is no alternative (i.e., judicial) procedural avenue open to applicants who wish to get divorced by mutual consent.

Combined together, these factors make it particularly difficult to envision the existence of the “general principles stemming from the corpus of the national legal systems” in the field of (extrajudicial) divorce.

A Practical Guide to Deciphering the “Scheme and Objectives” of EUPIL Instruments

In the light of the above, it is not surprising  that, in Senatsverwaltung für Inneres und Sport, the CJEU relied primarily on the first prong of the LTU principle, that is the “scheme and objectives” of the Brussels IIa Regulation. In particular, this judgment is especially interesting for the way in which the Court approaches the assessment thereof:  this analysis proceeds through several steps, in which the Court mobilizes distinct interpretive elements to shed better light on the scheme and/or objectives of the Brussels Ia Regulation.

My impression is that this approach, and said elements, are deemed to acquire increasing importance in future cases, especially in areas where the second prong of the LTU principle – ie the “general principles stemming from the corpus of the national legal systems” – is not of much help owing to the uncoordinated and diverse evolution of the domestic laws of Member States.

These “general interpretive guidelines” can be summarized as follows:

1. The importance of the letter of the law (and of statutory definitions)

After having recalled the principle of autonomous interpretation of the notions used by the Brussels IIa Regulation, and particularly by its Articles 2 (4) and 21 (§ 41 of Senatsverwaltung für Inneres und Sport), the CJEU summarizes the general objectives pursued by this instrument (§§ 42-45).

The judgment places particular emphasis on the broad wording used by Article 2 (1) and (4) of these Regulation, pursuant to which “the term court shall cover all authorities in the Member States with jurisdiction in the matters falling within the scope of the [Brussels IIa] Regulation pursuant to Article 1”, whereas the notion of “judgment” shall include, inter alia, “a divorce…whatever the judgment may be called…”.

Siding on this point with the Opinion of AG Collins, who also referred to the wide definition of “judge” adopted by Article 2(2) (§ 35), the CJEU concluded that the Brussels IIa Regulation is “is capable of covering divorces which have been granted at the end of both judicial and extrajudicial proceedings, provided that the law of the Member States also confers jurisdiction in relation to divorce on extrajudicial authorities ”.

As I have already remarked elsewhere, however, EUPIL statutory definitions of “court” vary greatly from instrument to instrument, as concerns both their specific contents and the drafting technique (see a recap table here). This circumstance must be born in mind when trying to transplant interpretive solutions from one EUPIL instrument to another.

2. The importance of ‘inter-textual’ interpretation.

It is also significant to note that, in Senatsverwaltung für Inneres und Sport, the CJEU itself resorts to inter-textual interpretation. In that case, however, the Court adopts a “vertical”, rather than a “horizontal” approach: that is to say, reference is made not to EUPIL instruments covering tangential subject-matters, but to the evolution (if any) of a single instrument over time, through subsequent recasts.

In support of the broad reading of the notion of judgement resulting from the wording of Article 2(4), the CJEU referred to the considerably clearer stance taken on this point by the successor of Regulation 2201/2003 (§ 58). In particular, Recital 14 of the Brussels IIb Regulation states that “any agreement approved by the court following an examination of the substance in accordance with national law and procedure should be recognized or enforced as a decision”. On this point, the Court accepts the Commission’s submission whereby the Brussels IIb Regulation is no innovation in the pre-existing legal regime, its Recital 14 being therefore useful to clarify the notions used by the Brussels IIa Regulation (§ 61; see, in this respect, the opposite stance taken by the German Government, summarized in §§ 52 and 53 of the AG Opinion).

3. The importance of preparatory works.

While the “vertical” approach is, in theory, less risky than the “horizontal” one, insofar as it should not expose to the dangers of evoked by Kainz, it may require to invest considerable efforts in researching preparatory woks. Very often, the legislator’s intent is not clearly expressed by the initial Proposal made by the EU Commission, but emerges later on in the debates within the Parliament or in other exchanges held during the legislative process.

This was the case as concerns the definition of court in the Brussels IIb Regulation. Even though the Commission’s Proposal already made clear that the scope of the Recast should have been limited to matters of parental responsibility (and should therefore not have touched too much upon most of the general definitions set by Article 2) a political discussion about the notion of court topic took place and appeared for the first time in this document, well into the negotiation phase. An explicit proposal to include a Recital dedicated to this issue emerged later on (see this document).

In proceedings before the CJEU, important insights on the unfolding of the legislative process may come from the Commission’s observations, which are systematically filed in all EUPIL preliminary references (see here). Outside this specific context, however, researching the original intent of the EU legislator might be quite burdensome for the “average interpreter”, in cases where this intent does not clearly stand out in the Commission’s proposal.

4. The importance of the type of examination (on the merits) involved in extrajudicial proceedings.

As specifically concerns the notions of “judgment” or “decision”, and “court” or “tribunal”, the most important criterion used by the CJEU remains the assessment of the type of functions performed by the seized domestic authority.

This approach is used by the CJEU even outside the field of EUPIL (for example, in order to identify the “courts or tribunals” of a Member State for the purposes of Article 267 TFUE), with important sectoral variations. In fact, the Court has always stressed that the uniform meaning of these notions (and of “court” in particular) in EU Law must be fitted to the specific context in which they are called to operate.

In this respect, Senatsverwaltung für Inneres und Sport is no exception, as the most important in the clarification provided by Recital 14 of the Brussels IIb Regulation consists, precisely, in  the explicit identification of the constitutive element of a “decision” in the field of family law and parental responsibility. This “constitutive element” is of fundamental importance for distinguishing “decisions” from the two other types of legal acts contemplated by that Regulation, ie the “authentic instrument” on the one side, and the “agreements that are neither a decision nor an authentic instrument, but have been registered by a public authority competent to do so”, on the other side.

According to the CJEU, the decisive element in the definition of decision is the existence of a prior examination, made by or under the supervision of the competent (public) authority, of the substance of the matter. While the AG endeavored to demonstrate the substantial identity of the tasks performed by the authority conducting a procedure of divorce by mutual consent, which remain essentially the same in a judicial and in an extrajudicial setting (§ 41 of the Opinion), the CJEU focused on the substantive content of these tasks (§§ 54, 57 and 63-66).

What shall an “examination of the substance of the matter” entail, according to the Court?

First, referring to Solo Kleinmotoren, the CJEU reasserts that the competent authority “must retain control over the grant of the divorce”, which implies the examination of the content of the divorce agreement in the light of the applicable provisions of national law, with a view to verify whether the legal requirements set therein are satisfied, as well as the existence and validity of the spouses’ consent to divorce (§§ 54-55). This aspects marks an important difference between consensual divorces and other types of settlement which are “essentially contractual in nature”, as the tasks of the competent authority are limited to the “passive” recording of an agreement, without any examination of its content in the light of the legal provisions in force (§ 57).

Second, the Court attached specific importance to the binding nature of the agreement drafted by the Italian civil registrar (§ 63), as well as to the means and formalities for the examination of the validity and existence of the spouses’ consent (§ 64).

Combined with the analysis of the tasks relating to the examination of the content of the agreement in the light of the Italian legal provisions on extrajudicial divorces (§ 65), these elements led the CJEU to consider that the Italian Civil Registrar retained sufficient control over the grant of the divorce, the resulting agreement being therefore a “judgment” within the meaning of Article 2 (4) of the Brussels IIa Regulation, interpreted in the light of Recital 14 of the Brussels IIb Regulation.

5. The importance (if any) of practical and/or “political” considerations.

As seen above, the arguments drawn from the inter-textual interpretation of the Brussels Ia and Brussels IIb Regulations played a significant role in supporting the solution finally retained in Senatsverwaltung für Inneres und Sport. Such inter-textual reading  was deployed by the CJEU to reinforce the argument based directly on the “open-ended” statutory definitions set out by Article 2 of the Brussels IIa Regulation.

In this respect, the Court accepted the Commission’s view that, in adopting the newest Regulation, “the EU legislature was not seeking to innovate and introduce new rules, but only to ‘clarify’, on the one hand, the scope of the rule already laid down in Article 46 of the Brussels IIa Regulation and, on the other hand, the criterion for distinguishing the concept of ‘judgment’ from those of ‘authentic instrument’ and ‘agreement between the parties’, namely the criterion relating to the examination of the substance” (§61). As a result, the CJEU could hold that “that interpretation of the concept of ‘judgment’ cannot be invalidated by the fact that no Member State had yet made any provision in its legislation, at the time of the development and adoption of the Brussels IIa Regulation, for the option for spouses to divorce through extrajudicial means” and that this “interpretation follows directly from the broad and open definitions of the concepts of ‘court’ and ‘judgment’ referred to in Article 2(1) and (4) of that regulation” (§ 50).

This “temporal dimension” of the evolution of extrajudicial divorces across EU Member States was approached much more pragmatically by AG Collins. Without referring to the alleged continuity between the two Regulations, and deeming the latest Recast incapable of supporting “any conclusions…for the purposes of interpreting Regulation 2201/2003” (§ 54, last sentence), AG Collins derived a separate duty, for the judiciary, to interpret “clearly open” definitions set out by EU law “in the light of present day circumstances” (§ 54). “The law cannot cut itself from society as it is, and must not fail to adjust to it as quickly as possible, since it would otherwise risk imposing outdated views and adopting a static role”, he contended. Therefore, “in accordance with that view, EU law must be interpreted in a dynamic manner, in order to avoid it becoming ‘fossilised’”.

While the solution adopted the CJEU is to be appreciated for its strong foundations in the letter of the law and the clear legislative intent behind said EUPIL Regulations, the approach proposed by AG Collins is certainly alluring from an academic point of view. It is in fact indisputable that, at the time the Brussels Ia was adopted, no Member State had introduced extrajudicial divorces in its national legal order. Portugal was the first Member State to proceed in this sense, followed in 2010 by three additional Member States (Estonia, Romania and Latvia). Italy followed in 2014 with the procedure analyzed by the CJEU in Senatsverwaltung für Inneres und Sport, tailed by Spain (2015) and France (2016). Finally, in 2017, the new family law code of Slovenia and the Greek law No. 4509/2017 completed the current picture. Seen from this standpoint, it is quite clear that extrajudicial divorces have recently become a veritable legislative trend, which is slowly acquiring a pan-European dimension.

Against this evolving backdrop, AG Collins’ warning against the risks of a “fossilised” EUPIL, no longer suitable for the needs of its final users, reflected a serious concern and evokes the “political dimension” of this field of law remarked by Professor Kinsch in his Hague Academy Course. The latter is linked, among others, to a consistent rhetoric of the EU Commission, which tends to highlight the benefits and advantages that “mobile citizens” can derive from the unified and pan-European EUPIL regimes.

In this vein, the Commission’s initial Proposal for the Brussels IIb Regulation stressed that a Recast was needed in conformity with the objectives set by the Juncker Commission’s Political Guidelines. According to these Guidelines, judicial cooperation among EU Member States had to “be improved step by step keeping up with the reality of increasingly mobile citizens across the Union getting married and having children, by building bridges between the different justice systems and by mutual recognition of judgments, so that citizens can more easily exercise their rights across the Union”. In line with these objectives, the Commission is presenting the new rules as a tangible proof that “the EU works to protect our children and families, ensuring that Member States enforce each other’s judicial decisions” (see the promotional video available here). In particular, “considering the growing number of Member States which allow out-of-court agreements on legal separation and divorce or on matters of parental responsibility, the new rules will facilitate the circulation of [authentic] instruments and [out-of-court] agreements” (here).

In the end, this “pragmatic argument” based on the consideration that EUPIL should keep in touch with an evolving reality in order to serve properly the interests of its final intended users, found no space in the Senatsverwaltung für Inneres und Sport, but could hypothetically become an additional interpretive tool in future cases, in those field of substantive private law presenting a similar evolution.

Following the publication of her monograph on PIL and non-judicial divorce, I have invited Nuria Marchal Escalona to provide an overview of the topic with a focus on the Spanish case. Nuria Marchal is a professor of Private International Law at the University of Granada (Spain).


The tag ‘non-judicial divorce’ does not refer to a single reality; it rather encompasses a number of ways to getting divorced out of court.

The comparison among legal systems allows for the conclusion that the regulation of non-judicial divorce is actually quite diverse, even in neighboring countries.

Roughly summarized, three models co-exist currently. In some jurisdictions, the competence for the dissolution of marriage in non-contentious cases is conferred to non-judicial authorities such as civil registrars, notaries or even mayors, in such a way that their intervention has a proper constitutive effect. This would be the case of Spain.

In other countries, like France, divorce results from the agreement of the spouses. There, the public authority’s role is very limited (Article 229-1st French Civil Code).

Finally, the dissolution of the marriage is pronounced by a religious court in Islamic-inspired legal systems, and are considered as ‘private divorce’.

This diversity accounts to a large extent for the difficulties met by applicants asking for a non-judicial divorce granted elsewhere to be effective in Spain. But also the issuance of a notarial deed of divorce in Spain in situations involving cross-border elements has to surmount a number of obstacles. The most relevant ones are address hereinafter.

Basic Features of Notarial Divorce in Spain

The de-judicialisation of the marital relationship took place in Spain by virtue of Law 15/2015 on Voluntary Jurisdiction. The Act empowers notaries to authorise divorce by mutual consent in both domestic and international cases. To this end, the spouses must draw up a regulatory agreement (Article 87 Civil Code). Besides, some material and procedural requirements must be fulfilled: a Spanish notary cannot issue a public deed of divorce if the settlement agreement is detrimental to one of the spouses, nor where there are non-emancipated minors, or minors with judicially modified capacity, who are dependent on the parents (moreover, children living in the family home and lacking an own income must consent to the measures affecting them).

A notary is also prevented from dissolving the marriage if the parties do not appear in person before him. In practice, however, this last requirement has fortunately been removed by Resolution of 26 January 2021 of the Dirección General de Seguridad Jurídica y Fe Pública allowing for the authorisation of a notarial deed of divorce with the intervention of a special proxy.

International and Territorial Jurisdiction

Spanish notaries can only grant a notarial deed of divorce in cross-border cases provided they are competent (internationally and territorially), both for the dissolution of the marriage and for determining inextricable related matters such as the financial regime of the marriage, the use of the home, or compensatory pension.

It should be noted that Spanish notarial authorities are not entitled to decide on the custody of minors – in other words, as already stated notarial divorce is only possible if the children of the marriage are of legal age, or emancipated.

To determine international jurisdiction, the notary will need to look into an array of legal instruments respectively addressing divorce and ancillary matters (maintenance, use of the family home and matrimonial property regime). This is the outcome of the limited material scope of application of the rules at stake. By way of consequence, the notary will be confronted with issues of characterization, as he will have to decide, for instance, if a particular institution pertains to maintenance or rather to the matrimonial property regime.

Already the question of the legal instruments applicable to the notary’s competence has not a straightforward answer. Whether Spanish notaries are bound by the provisions of the European instruments regulating international jurisdiction in the above-mentioned matters (Regulation No. 2019/1111, or Brussels II ter; Regulation No. 4/2009; Regulation No. 2016/1103), is unclear. It depends on whether they are ‘courts’ in the sense of the Regulations. However, the very notion is not univocal but varies from one instrument to another. Thus, while given the very broad concept of ‘court’ under Article 2.1 Brussels II ter, Spanish notaries will apply this Regulation to determine jurisdiction, they cannot rely on either Regulation No. 4/2009 or Regulation No. 2016/1103 to the same effect, for, according to them, they are not ‘courts’. For subject matters under the latter two Regulations, they are therefore bound by the jurisdictional criteria set out in the Spanish Organic Law of the Judiciary, in particular those listed in Article 22 quater f) for maintenance issues and in Article 22 quater c) for the dissolution of the marriage, and, where appropriate, the liquidation of the matrimonial property regime.

To grant the divorce, the notary has to be territorially competent too. Mismatches may arise in this regard. The allocation of competence among Spanish notaries to authorise a public deed of divorce follows Article 54 of the Notaries Act of 28 May 1862, according to which the spouses must give their consent either before the notary of their last common domicile or that of the domicile or habitual residence of any of them. It may happen that the international jurisdiction criteria do not allow for the identification of the notary territorially competent as indicated by the provision. Where two Spanish nationals resident in Germany apply for a notarial divorce in Spain, the Spanish notary will have international competence, but lack the territorial one. In such cases, one may argue the spouses can apply for divorce before any notary in Spain. The misalliance shows that the provisions of the 1862 Act are not adapted to the particularities of cross-border cases; de lege ferenda it should be amended.

Applicable Law

The ascertainment of the law applicable to grant a public deed of divorce in cross-border cases is also a complex operation. The dissolution of the marriage has further consequences on the relation between the spouses, which must be dealt with separately from the divorce. Just like with international jurisdiction, this is a consequence of the limited scope of application of the rules currently in force. And, again, delimitation problems are accompanied by delicate issues of characterization, with which the Spanish notarial authorities must contend once they have identified the relevant legal regime, which depends in turn on whether they are ‘jurisdictional bodies” as required in the EU Regulations (and related Hague instruments).

There is no consensus on the meaning of ‘jurisdictional bodies’ for the purposes of applying the EU and Hague provisions on applicable law. The lack of agreement impacts negatively on the overall coherence of the system. It is here posited that a Spanish notary, when dissolving a marriage, is vested with a decision-making function of a constitutive nature: in other words, he exercises ‘jurisdictional functions’. Therefore, he must be considered as a ‘jurisdictional body’ in the sense of both Regulation No. 1259/2010 (Rome III) and the 2007 Hague Protocol. Moreover, the same solution should prevail for Regulation No. 2016/1103 in spite of the Communication made by the Spanish Government denying such quality to Spanish notaries. In fact, Spain should immediately correct the declaration. Nonetheless, in the meantime Spanish notaries remain bound by Articles 9.2 or 9.3 of the Spanish Civil Code in order to decide on the law applicable to the matrimonial property regime.

Regarding the specific conflict of law solutions, it is worth mentioning that choice of law is the basic connecting point under the Rome III Regulation (for divorce) and the Hague Protocol of 2007 (for maintenance), as well as under the national rules on the matrimonial property regime, although in the latter case the choice is operative only in the absence of a common nationality of the spouses (Article 9.2 of the Spanish Civil Code). This parallelism facilitates the task of the notary, as it prevents legal fragmentation and problems of qualification and delimitation. However, coordination may fail since the possibility to choose the applicable law varies in scope depending on the instrument where it is embodied.

It may thus happen that, in order to determine the legal framework of the divorce and the ancillary issues, a notary must combine the law chosen by the parties for the dissolution of marriage with another one(s), the latter being ascertained through objective connecting points. Let’s take spouses of Spanish nationality residing in Italy and choosing Italian law to dissolve their marriage in Spain before a notary: the chosen law will be applicable [ex Article 5 a) R. Rome II] to the divorce, whereas Spanish law, ex Article 9.2 of the Spanish Civil Code, will rule on the economic regime of the marriage.

On a side note, it should be added that notarial divorce in Spain may be unnecessarily expensive due to the Spanish Declaration to the Rome III Regulation, coupled with a Resolution-Consultation of the Dirección General de Seguridad Jurídica y Fe Pública of 7 june 2016. According to the Declaration, the choice of law agreement must be concluded prior to obtaining the divorce – in other words, it is not possible before the court.

Besides, additional formal requirements under Article 7 of the Regulation are needed: the choice of law must be granted in an authentic instrument (before a notary public), or an ‘authentic document’ (a document whose date and signatures by the parties are unequivocal, even if it does not take the form of a notarial instrument). Eventually, choosing the applicable law requires a public document different from the public deed of divorce – therefore, higher costs for the spouses.

Recognition

As of today, the recognition in Spain of foreign non-judicial divorce raises many doubts. Due to the plurality of rules in Spanish private international law, this is a highly topical issue, both essential and complex, starting with already with the determination of the applicable rules. One must take into account, besides the usual variables (origin of the divorce, date on which it was granted), the type of non-judicial divorce at stake. This requires examining if a public authority was involved and the role it played: whether or not it has exercised a constitutive function, and (more relevant), whether or not it has performed functions equivalent to those allocated to Spanish courts.

Under the broad concept of ‘court or tribunal’ under Brussels II ter and Regulation No. 4/2009, all authorities in the Member States with jurisdiction in matters falling within the scope of said Regulations can be considered as belonging to such category. That is to say, for the purposes of these instruments, any authority, official or professional is a ‘court’ provided that the legal system to which it belongs confers on it the power to dissolve the marriage.

The CJEU ruled along these lines in its judgment of 15 November 2022 (Case C-646/20): a divorce settlement entered into before the Italian Registrar of Vital Statistics equates a court decision, provided that the issuing authority carries out a review of the settlement, i.e., of the conditions of the divorce under national law, and of the validity of the spouses’ consent. By analogy, a Spanish notarial divorce must be recognised as a ‘judicial determination’ in other Member States, since Spanish notaries perform such tasks. Had it not been withdrawn, the question referred to the Court of Justice of the European Union for a preliminary ruling in Case C-304/22 should had been solved along these lines.

The other ‘side of the coin’ of this broad definition of ‘court’ as interpreted by the CJEU is that a foreign divorce where the public authority has merely approved a private act does not constitute a judicial decision in the sense of the Regulations. This does not automatically entail the non-recognition of such divorce. In fact, Article 65 Brussels II ter acknowledges the effectiveness of registered private agreements and connects them with court judgments. From the procedural point of view, the equating of registered agreements to court decisions implies their automatic recognition in the terms of Article 30 et seq. of Brussels II ter.

Where European rules do not apply, conventional rules come to the forefront. Spain is a contracting State to a considerable number of bilateral conventions on recognition of decisions (ad ex. Colombia, Russia and China).  However, for non-judicial divorce such conventions have little impact, either because family matters are excluded from their scope of application, or because they only apply to the recognition of ‘judicial decisions’, meaning those originating from jurisdictional bodies. This is the reason why many times the legal regime applicable to the recognition of a foreign non-judicial divorce will be defined by national (autonomous) rules. In Spain, there is a plurality of sources in the area:

  • The Third Additional Provision of Law 15/2015 on Voluntary Jurisdiction, on the registration of foreign public documents in public registers.
  • Articles 11 and 12 of the same Law, addressing registration in public registers of foreign decisions on voluntary jurisdiction (Article 11), and the effects in Spain of voluntary jurisdiction proceedings and acts agreed by foreign authorities (Article 12).  Such provisions prevail over Article 41.2 of Law 29/2015 on International Legal Cooperation in Civil Matters, in accordance with the First Additional Provision of the International Legal Cooperation Act.
  • Articles 323 and 144 of Law 1/2000 on Civil Procedure, on the recognition of foreign public documents.
  • Articles 96 and 97 of Law 20/2011 on the Civil Register. These provisions deal with the recognition of foreign non-judicial decisions (Article 96) and of foreign extrajudicial documents (Article 97). They should prevail over the Law on Voluntary Jurisdiction when an application is made for the dissolution of the relationship to be registered with the Spanish Civil Registry.

In light of the foregoing, it is easy to imagine that ascertaining the competent rule and, therefore, the conditions to be checked to grant effects to a foreign extrajudicial divorce, can become a quite complicated endeavor.

It does not only depend on the type of divorce obtained (notarial, registered, etc.), thus on the document recording the divorce (notarial deed, extrajudicial decision or public act), but also on the effect that the recognition is intended to have (constitutive, evidentiary, entry into an official registry).

But, fundamentally, it will be conditional upon the function performed by the intervening authority, and on whether it corresponds to those of the Spanish judicial authorities in the field. Eventually, whether the foreign non-judicial divorce falls under the category of foreign ‘judicial decision” or rather under that of foreign ‘public document’, and the corresponding regime, depends on the answer to these questions.

The recognition of so-called ‘private divorces’, i.e. those dictated by a religious authority, poses even greater problems even if they are subsequently approved by a foreign authority. To qualify as a ‘decision’ and, therefore, for the autonomous legal regime on recognition of judgments to apply, the authority must have performed a constitutive function: in other words, it must have acted with ‘imperium’ in accordance with the system of origin. Otherwise, the foreign divorce will get a conflict-of-laws treatment. However, after the amendment of Article 107.2º of the Civil Code in 2015, there is no rule for that purpose under Spanish autonomous PIL provisions.

And, finally, it should not be forgotten that, more often than not, the decision or document on the dissolution of marriage by a non-judicial authority includes statements on the economic regime of the marriage, alimony and even parental relationship. According cross-border effectiveness to a foreign non-judicial divorce does not automatically benefit those ancillary matters. Let’s take a non-judicial divorce by mutual consent by notarial deed from Cuba: in Spain, it will generally be recognised as a non-contentious judicial decision under autonomous PIL. Should the divorce be accompanied by decisions on parental responsibility, the latter will fall under the Hague Convention of 19 October 1996 on Jurisdiction, Applicable Law, Recognition, Enforcement and Co-operation in Respect of Parental Responsibility and Measures for the Protection of Children. The regulatory fragmentation existing in Spanish law in the area may give rise to problems of consistency, and eventually lead to semi-claudicating divorces, meaning that they are effective in terms of the dissolution of the marital bound, but not in terms of its effects in relation to children, maintenance or the liquidation of the matrimonial property regime.

This is the and final part of a post collectively written by Marion Ho-Dac and Matthias Lehmann. Part one is found here.


The previous post has underlined the DSA’s indifference to PIL. In this post, we will take the example of “illegal content” to illustrate the need for a conflict-of-laws approach.

DSA Regulation of Illegal Content and Conflicts of Laws

The DSA obliges intermediaries to inform the authorities of any effect given to their orders regarding illegal content “on the basis of the applicable Union law or national law in compliance with Union law” (Article 9(1) DSA). This formulation echoes the very definition of illegal content described as “any information … that is not in compliance with Union law or the law of any Member State which is in compliance with Union law” (Article 3 (h) DSA). The Act avoids the – quite arduous – problem how the applicable law shall be identified.  And, more broadly, it demonstrates its indifference to the mere distinction between public and private law issues, by stating that the characterisation of the illegality of the said contents, at the origin of the orders, is based on the applicable law regardless of “the precise nature or subject matter … of the law in question” (Recital 12 in fine DSA).

The same pattern reoccurs with regard to the intermediaries’ obligation to inform the authorities about individual recipients of their services (Article 10(1) DSA). The DSA simply assumes that orders requiring such information will be issued “on the basis of the applicable Union law or national law in compliance with Union law”, without detailing which national law actually is governing.

At the bottom of this method is the assumption that Union law or the national law will identify itself as applicable. Thereby, legal unilateralism is not only embraced, but also reinforced because orders based on unilateralist Union law or national law are strengthened. There are little limits the Act poses on national authorities, except that the territorial scope of their orders must be in compliance with Union law, including the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights, and – “where relevant” – general principles of international law and the principle of proportionality (see Article 9(2)(b) DSA). Interestingly, Recital 36 makes the (exceptional) extraterritoriality of the orders mainly conditional upon the EU legal basis of the illegality of the content, or requires “the interests of international comity” to be taken into account.

The problem with such unilateralism “set in stone” is that it does not overcome conflicts of laws, but exacerbates them. The law of the Member State having the strictest rules with the widest scope of application will be given preference over those who take a more liberal, balanced or nuanced approach.

Additionally, this ‘regulatory competition’ effectively suspends the country-of-origin principle laid down in Article 3(1) e-commerce Directive, which gives exclusive competence to the Member State in which the service provider addressed is established (see Recital 38 DSA). The orders regarding illegal content can be issued by the authorities of any Member State. This can be justified by Article 3(4), though, which provides a public policy exception.

The DSA’s Reason for Indifference to PIL

The reason why this road was taken is, quite obviously, the difficulties to overcome the entrenched divergences between national laws with overlapping scope. For this reason, the EU legislator decided to pass over this problem and place its rules on a different level. Conflicts of laws will be managed, not solved. This is in line with the “procedure over substance” philosophy of the Act, which has been criticised by others.

True, the illegality of internet content is often patently obvious, making the search for the applicable law a redundant exercise. Child pornography, hate speech, details of crimes or private photos do not justify long legal analysis. The DSA calls this “manifestly illegal content” and allows particularly strict measures in their regard, such as the suspension of services to their senders (Article 23(1) DSA). Still, the issue of legality or illegality may not always be so obvious, for instance when it comes to copyright infringements, the offering of accommodation services or the sale of live animals (examples taken from Recital 12), which is regulated quite differently in the Member States, not to speak of betting and gaming or the clash between privacy rights and free speech/freedom of the press that is resolved differently in different countries.

The Limits of Conflicts of Laws

In these instances, and in many others, it would have been preferable to have clear-cut rules that allow to identify the applicable rules. However, and from a more operational perspective, common substantive rules, rather than bilateral conflict-of-laws rules, should have been adopted where Union law is silent on what is illegal content. This would help to preserve individual freedom and to avoid contradicting orders between different Member States. In the absence of a political agreement between Member States on this question, the DSA opts instead for cooperation between regulators, especially the “Digital Services Coordinators” of the various Member State. However, without any clear guidance on whose laws governs, they may lack the means to solve these disputes in a matter that is legally certain, foreseeable and compatible with fundamental rights.

Moreover, the European digital environment will remain fragmented and there may be a risk that “illegal content havens” emerge (in the same way as tax havens in corporate matters). On the one hand, it can be expected that non-EU-based online platforms will choose a legal representative established in a Member State (Article 13 DSA) that is liberal in matters such as freedom of expression and privacy issues. On the other hand, one can imagine these platforms to strategically and systematically invoke their European “law of origin” (i.e. that of the Member State of establishment of their legal representative) in application of the internal market clause of the e-commerce Directive in the event of a civil liability action brought against them. Eventually, it will be for the national court of the Member States to navigate within this regulatory maze, with the sole help of the CJEU.

We guess national judges would rather favour their own law. Indeed, the law of the forum has several reasons to apply here, i.e. as the law governing the illegality of the content, the law of the place where the damages occurred and, more broadly, the law of the place of “use” of the content. This will reinforce the unilateralist tendencies that characterises the whole Act.

The author of this post is Uglješa Grušić, Associate Professor at the Faculty of Laws of the University College London.


As reported on this blog on 13 February 2023, the EAPIL Working Group on the Reform of the Brussels I bis Regulation has issued a preliminary position paper formulating proposals for reforming the Regulation. This is an important document, which gives the members of EAPIL and the readers of this blog a lot of food for thought.

The preliminary position paper, however, does not propose any reform to the Regulation’s rules of jurisdiction in employment matters. I believe that these rules are defective in several respects and that the EAPIL Working Group and, ultimately, the EU legislator should take note of these defects and amend the Regulation accordingly. Here, I want to outline these defects, formulate my proposal for reforming the Regulation in this respect and consider whether my proposal is consistent with those advanced in the preliminary position paper.

Five Defects

The rules of jurisdiction in employment matters of Brussels I bis suffer from five weaknesses that undermine the proclaimed goal of these rules, namely the goal of the protection of employees as weaker parties.

As is well-known, Recital 18 provides that ‘In relation to … employment contracts, the weaker party should be protected by rules of jurisdiction more favourable to his interests than the general rules.’ Paradoxically, two changes that Brussels I bis introduced in 2012 with the aim of advancing the goal of employee protection are, in some circumstances, less favourable to the interests of employees than the general rules.

Article 20(2) extends the concept of the domicile of the employer, which now covers employers not domiciled within the EU pursuant to Article 63, but which have a branch, agency or other establishment in the EU in relation to disputes arising out of the operations of the establishment. This rule may disfavour claimant employees because, when it applies, national jurisdictional rules, which may be more favourable to employees than the jurisdictional rules of Brussels I bis, do not.

While, pursuant to Article 6(1), persons domiciled outside the EU can, generally speaking, be sued in the Member State courts under national jurisdictional rules, Article 21 provides that employers domiciled outside the EU can only be sued in the courts for the habitual place of work or, absent a habitual place of work, in the courts for the engaging place of business if the habitual place of work/engaging place of business is located in the EU. The CJEU has confirmed, in Case C-604/20 ROI Land Investments Ltd v FD, that such employers cannot be sued in the Member State courts under national jurisdictional rules. This makes little sense from the perspective of employee protection because it puts claimant employees in a significant jurisdictional disadvantage in comparison to claimants in general.

The third and fourth defects are related to the use of the connecting factor of the engaging place of business in Article 21(1)(b)(ii). The rule of jurisdiction based on this connecting factor is not only practically useless, but also leads to considerable legal uncertainty and unforeseeability and undermines the goals of employee protection and proximity. I have presented my objections to this rule of jurisdiction in terms of legal uncertainty, unforeseeability, employee protection and proximity elsewhere, and I will not rehearse those arguments again. Here, I want to focus on the practical uselessness of this rule of jurisdiction.

The rule of jurisdiction based on the connecting factor of the engaging place of business is only applicable if there is no habitual place of work (Article 21(1)(b)(i)). The CJEU has interpreted the connecting factor of the habitual place of work very broadly in its case law on this point that covers so many different kinds of transnational employment relationships (ie itinerant commercial representatives (here and here), workers working offshore, posted workers (hereand here), lorry drivers, seamen, aircrew and agency workers). In fact, the CJEU has interpreted this connecting factor so broadly that there is very little, if any, room left for the connecting factor of the engaging place of business. This means that there is little reason to keep the jurisdictional rule based on the connecting factor of the engaging place of business. This is even more true if Advocate General Øe was correct to find in Case C-804/19 BU v Markt24 GmbH that ‘the forum established in Article 7(5) of the Brussels Ia Regulation is, in principle, the same as that for the “business which engaged the employee”, within the meaning of Article 21(1)(b)(ii) of that regulation’ ([90], fn 68) and to suggest that Article 7(5) applied even if the establishment in question no longer existed at the moment of commencement of proceedings ([93]).

The CJEU held in Case 32/88 Six Constructions Ltd v Humbert that, if the habitual place of work is outside the EU, the jurisdictional rule based on the connecting factor of the engaging place of business is inapplicable. Article 21, therefore, fails to offer any favourable treatment to employees engaged in the EU to habitually work outside the EU. If my proposal to abolish the jurisdictional rule based on the connecting factor of the engaging place of business is not accepted, then at least the relationship between Article 21(1)(b)(i) and Article 21(1)(b)(ii), as interpreted in Six Constructions, should be reformed.

The fifth defect concerns the use of arbitration agreements contained in individual employment contracts. It is unclear if such arbitration agreements should only be enforced under the same or similar conditions that apply to jurisdiction agreements. This problem arises because, on the one hand, arbitration is expressly excluded from the subject-matter scope of Brussels I bis (Article 1(2)(d)), but, on the other hand, arbitration agreements, if effective, deprive employees of the regulation’s jurisdictional protection. There is evidence that digital platforms are taking advantage of this legal uncertainty and inserting arbitration agreements in contracts with their workers (see, for example, Aslam v Uber BV in the English employment tribunal at [35]).

Proposal for Reform

My proposal for reforming the rules of jurisdiction in employment matters of Brussels I bis contains three elements.

First, the international scope of application of these rules should be reconsidered. The goal of employee protection would be better satisfied if the rule extending the concept of the employer’s domicile applied without prejudice to the right of claimant employees to rely on national jurisdictional rules against employers not domiciled within the EU pursuant to Article 63, even if they have an establishment in the EU. Similarly, the availability of the courts for the habitual place of work or, absent a habitual place of work, of the courts for the engaging place of business should not prejudice the right of claimant employees to sue employers domiciled outside the EU under national jurisdictional rules.

Second, the rule of jurisdiction based on the connecting factor of the engaging place of business should be reformed in one of the following two ways. The considerations of effectiveness, legal certainty, foreseeability, employee protection and proximity speak in favour of abolishing this jurisdictional rule. If this were to happen, a new rule could be introduced instead of it, which, by analogy with the jurisdictional rule over contracts for the provision of services (Art 7(1)(b) second indent, as interpreted in cases like Case C-204/08 Rehder v Air Baltic Corporation), would, absent a habitual place of work, give jurisdiction to the courts for each place where some significant work was carried out.

Alternatively, if the abolition of the rule of jurisdiction based on the connecting factor of the engaging place of business is consider too radical, the goal of employee protection would be better satisfied if this rule were available in two situations: where there is not a habitual place of work at all or where the habitual place of work is outside the EU.

Third, a recital should be introduced that would clarify that arbitration agreements cannot undermine the jurisdictional protection provided to employees.

Consistency with the Preliminary Position Paper

The preliminary position paper contains two relevant proposals.

Proposal 11 is that the EU lawmaker should extend Article 7(1) and 7(5) of Brussels I bis to defendants domiciled in third states. The proposal, however, does not clarify whether the application of Article 7(1) and 7(5) to defendants domiciled in third states would lead to a disapplication of national jurisdictional rules. I believe that the drafters of the preliminary position paper should clarify whether they perceive this inevitable consequence of their proposal (see Case C-604/20 ROI Land Investments Ltd v FD) as a welcome development. But even if they do, the objective of employee protection would still point towards the extension of the concept of the employer’s domicile and of the extension of the rules based on the connecting factors of the habitual place of work and the engaging place of business without prejudice to the right of claimant employees to rely on national jurisdictional rules.

Another proposal is that the rules of jurisdiction for consumer contracts should cover tort claims. The UK Supreme Court had asked the CJEU in Case C-603/17 Bosworth and Hurley v Arcadia Petroleum Limited whether a claim not arising directly out of an employment contract or the applicable employment legislation, but in relation to the employment contract (ie a claim in fraud or conspiracy), triggered the application of the protective jurisdictional rules. Advocate General Øe adopted a wide definition of the concept of ‘matters relating to individual contracts of employment’. Since the CJEU found in Bosworth that there was no relationship of subordination, it did not deal with this question asked by the UKSC. If the EU legislator accepts the preliminary position paper’s proposal, it should further be clarified that the concept of ‘matters relating to individual contracts of employment’ is of equally wide scope.

Finally, my proposal for reforming the international scope of application of the rules of jurisdiction in employment matters and the effect of arbitration agreements contained in individual employment contracts can be extended to contracts involving other weaker parties contracts and, therefore, considered in any reform proposal of the rules of jurisdiction for weaker parties of Brussels I bis.

This post was collectively written by Marion Ho-Dac and Matthias Lehmann. It consists of two parts. Part two can be found here.


The Digital Services Act (DSA) is a landmark legislation in many respects, also regarding its volume (102 pages in the O.J., no less than 156 Recitals). It will force online platforms such as Youtube, Google or Amazon to be more responsible for the contents posted on them. It has been adopted on 19 October 2022 and will (mainly) be applicable from 17 February 2024 (Article 93(2) DSA). Inter alia, it partially amends the e-commerce Directive (Art. 89 DSA) but preserves its famous “internal market clause”.

The DSA’s Indifference to PIL

The DSA states that it applies “without prejudice to Union rules on private international law” (Recital 10 DSA). However, the text deals with the provision of “intermediary services” within the broader concept of “information society services” (i.e. digital services). These virtually always raise cross-border private-law issues (cf. also Recital 2 DSA). A basic example is a legal action by a user in the EU to request the removal of (allegedly) defamatory online content. The question of the competent court will be resolved by the Brussels I bis Regulation – but what about the applicable law?

The DSA does not resolve such conflicts of laws, but pretends they do not exist. Time and time again, it refers to the “applicable national law”, without giving any indication how this law is to be determined. The Act flies in a high legal stratosphere, hovering over any differences between Member State and other national laws.

Yet, there are instances in which conflicts of laws play a role when applying the DSA (as in all EU regulations dealing with private law issues). The first will be studied in this post and concerns the determination of the applicability of the DSA. The second instance is where the DSA makes reference to a national legal system, for instance with regard to illegal content. This will be the subject of another post.

DSA Scope of Application

In the global digital ecosystem, the application of the DSA, as a uniform body of rules, requires that EU law as such is applicable. This is far from obvious since the vast majority of online platforms are based outside the EU. The DSA’s scope of application focuses on the recipients of the intermediary service – their establishment or location in the EU – “irrespective of where the providers […] have their place of establishment” (Article 2(1) DSA). The recipients are those who simply “use” intermediary services, “in particular for the purposes of seeking information or making it accessible” (Article 3(b) DSA).

The provision on the scope of the DSA presupposes that the providers are “offering” their services to recipients in the EU. Characterising the offering to users in a given territory is a well-known difficulty in private international law. But here the issue is more sensitive than e.g. in Article 17(1)(c) Brussels I bis Regulation as it relates to the scope of the DSA’s regulatory regime.

If the text stopped there, the DSA would have a “global vocation”. Such an approach, which could be described as a kind of “maximalist European unilateralism”, is however unpalatable. It would have large extraterritorial effects, create tensions with third countries and, in practice, would probably be unworkable given the limited capacities of European market supervision.

But the DSA is much more cautious and imposes a “substantial connection” with the EU (Article 3(e) DSA). This is de jure the case when the provider of intermediary services is established in the Union. Otherwise, the text requires that either the provider has a “significant number of recipients of the service” in the EU, or that it “targets” recipients in the EU. The first criterion is based on the economic and societal weight of the foreign operator, the latter on its behaviour. Ultimately, these criteria attenuate the European unilateralist approach and thus make it acceptable on a global scale.

Impact on Conflicts of Laws

The applicability of the DSA has consequences for conflicts of laws in case of international private disputes that fall within its scope. The national law of a third State which would be designated as applicable will be set aside in favour of its provisions, which qualify as overriding mandatory rules. Though the text is silent on this, the DSA certainly is regarded as crucial by the EU for safeguarding its public interests, such as its political, social or economic organisation (cf Article 9(1) Rome I). The DSA thus belongs to the European public policy, which is part of the public policy of the Member States.

Although many of its provisions are of a procedural nature, others may have an incidence on the level of substantive law, for instance tort law. This is in particular the case for those rules that concern liability. They operate in a double-edged sword by excluding liability but only under certain conditions. Where these conditions are not fulfilled, the “free pass” on liability under EU law is suspended.

To illustrate, Art 6 DSA exempts hosting services from liability for the hosted content, but only under certain conditions. One of them is that the provider, upon obtaining knowledge or awareness of illegal content, acts expeditiously to remove or to disable access to it (Article 6(1)(b) DSA). In other words, where the hosting provider does not act expeditiously, the way to liability under the applicable law is open.

Although the rule does not impose liability itself, the underlying policy is that the EU will not countenance hosting service providers that do not honour their duties to remove illegal content expeditiously. This could be interpreted as an overriding mandatory rule, which supersedes foreign rules that give a free pass to all hosting service providers. Of course, this interpretation still needs to be tested in court.

UNIDROIT has started an online consultation on its Draft Principles and Commentary on Digital Assets and Private Law, which Marco Pasqua has thankfully posted on this blog.

Principle 5 titled “Conflict of laws” will be of special interest for our readers, yet even experts of the field may have trouble understanding this somewhat complex provision. As an observer in the Working Group, I would like to give some background.

Scope ratione materiae

The subject of Principle 5 is the law applicable to proprietary issues in digital assets. A digital asset is defined in a broad way as an “electronic record which is capable of being subject to control” (Principle 2(2)). This covers all cryptocurrencies and tokens. The term “proprietary issues” is not defined but can be understood as encompassing the existence and transfer of ownership as well as other rights in rem.

Party Autonomy

The law governing proprietary issues in digital assets is defined by a waterfall.

The first two levels are dominated by party autonomy. Principle 5(1)(a) refers to the law expressly specified in the digital asset itself, whereas Principle 5(1)(b) points to the law chosen for the system or platform on which the asset is recorded.

Free choice of law may be seen as a heresy in property law. Yet it must be borne in mind that the blockchain environment is relatively self-contained. A restricted choice of the applicable property law has already been accepted in the Hague Intermediated Securities Convention. This was a door-opener, even though the EU did not sign up.

The problem lies elsewhere. Virtually none of the existing digital assets or systems contains a choice of law. This is by no means a coincidence, but the result of the anti-etatist beliefs of the social circles in which the technology was conceived. Since these beliefs are unlikely to change any time soon (if ever), choice of law for a blockchain will remain as rare as hen’s teeth.

Options A and B

If the governing law is not chosen (i.e. virtually always), the draft provides two options (Principle 5(1)(c)). Under Option A, a state can specify the relevant rules of its forum law which should govern, and to the extent these are insufficient, refer to the UNIDROIT Principles as a kind of gap-filler. Under Option B, it can declare the UNIDROIT Principles to apply directly, without specifying any part of its domestic law.

What is striking is that the conflict-of-laws method is completely ignored here. The law of the forum or the UNIDROIT Principles govern, regardless of the connections of the case.

This may be justified insofar as substantive law harmonisation on the international level is achieved, i.e. in case of Option B. But where a state follows Option A by specifying certain rules of the forum as applicable, these rules would in fact govern all situations world-wide before its courts. Other states following Option A would also specify their own national rules. Divergences between these rules will not only be cast in stone, but exacerbated by substantive rules of PIL (règles matérielles de droit international privé). The result will be a global jumble, leading to the opportunities of forum shopping which PIL experts know so well. 

UNIDROIT Trumps National Law

If the governing law is not chosen, nor the substantive rules or the UNIDROIT Principles on Digital Assets apply, then the law applicable by virtue of the PIL rules of the forum governs (Principle 5(1)(c)). The PIL rules are thus relegated to the last level. What is more, no harmony is achieved, as not a single indication is given on how the states should fashion their PIL. Anything goes – hardly a recipe for global harmonisation.

Joint Project with HCCH

The Hague Conference on PIL has just published a joint proposal with UNIDROIT for a “Project on Law Applicable to Cross-Border Holdings and Transfers of Digital Assets and Tokens”. It shall deal specifically with Principle 5 of the UNIDROIT Draft. This is the first joint project between the two institutions. One may nurture the hope that it will result in more precise and elaborate connecting factors. Until then, the need for clearer conflicts rules may be highlighted in the UNIDROIT online consultation, which is open until 20 February 2023.

This post was contributed by Catherine Kessedjian, Professor Emerita of the University Paris Panthéon-Assas and Chair of the ADI/ILA 2023 Organising Committee.


In a judgment of 16 November 2022 (pourvoi n° 21-17.338), the French Supreme Court for private and criminal matters (Cour de cassation) addressed, among many other issues, the application of anational norms such as the Unidroit Principles on International Commercial Contracts.

This post will only focus on this issue.

Background

Conforama, a French Company, was contractually linked to Mab Ltd, a US company until the latter became bankrupt. Two creditors of Mab Ltd made a “saisie conservatoire” in Conforama’s hands of a certain sum that it owed to Mab Ltd. However, Conforama declared that Mab Ltd did owe it another sum of money (via several invoices issued by Conforama) and intended to apply “compensation” (set-off of debts) between the two sums in order to reduce the amount that it would have to pay to the creditors.

The Paris Commercial Court (First Instance) (Tribunal de commerce de Paris, 19 June 2019, n°2008006861) decided that Conforama’s invoices were issued without cause. Consequently, it ordered Conforama to pay the entire sum due to Mab Ltd.

Conforama appealed to the Paris Court of Appeal.

Legal Issue: Applicable Law to the contracts

At the centre of the controversy are several contracts between Conforama and Mab Ltd, from 2004 onward, titled “Commercial Cooperation” according to which Conforama issued the contested invoices. Article 4.2 of these contracts provided for set-off. French law is very strict when it comes to these types of contracts because they have led to abuses in the past. Particularly, former Article L.442-6 of the commercial Code provided that, in absence of proven counterpart, these contracts were to be declared null and void. The provisions on restrictive practices are now codified in Articles L. 442-1 to L. 442-4 of the Commercial Code (see in particular Article L 442-1 I 1°).

In this context, in order to avoid the application of French Law, Conforama argued that its cooperation contracts with Mabs were regulated by “general principles of law as applied to international commercial relations together with usages of international commerce” (translation of a quote made by the Court of Appeal out of Conforama’s brief). In addition, Conforama pointed out to Article 17 of the supplier contract of 15 July 2004 and Article 11 of its general terms and conditions of purchase of 14 October 2004 and also to the Unidroit Principles (Disclaimer: we did not have access to the exact wording of these contractual documents).

However, according to Conforama’s opponents, the cooperation agreement of 10 January 2006 referred to (former) Article 1289 of the French civil code on set-off of debts (cf. current Article 1347 of the French civil code).

The question of the applicable law to a “commercial cooperation” contract, was at the centre of the dispute with the following sub-questions: (a) what method should apply to define the applicable law when the contract is silent? (b) is the theory of “goup of contacts” helpful for applicable law purposes? (c) what role can play anational rules of law?

Application of the 1980 Rome Convention by the Court of Appeal

From this complicated contractual picture, the Court of Appeal rendered a very well-motivated decision centred on the mandatory character of French Law on the type of services Conforama pretended to invoice Mab Ltd (Paris, 30 March 2021, 19/15655). Wisely, the Court did not enter into the discussion on the matter of the ‘group of contracts’ theory or on the matter of the applicability of anational law. It simply said that the cooperation agreement did not include an applicable law provision and that the Rome Convention of 1980 (applicable ratione temporis) led the court to apply French law. Since the provisions of French law are mandatory, there was no need to go further into the arguments presented by Conforama.

Exclusion of Unidroit Principles by the Court of Cassation

At the level of the Court of cassation, Conforama altered slightly its story. Its argument can be summarised as follows. First, it argued that Unidroit Principles might be applied even though they are not mentioned expressly in a contract. Second, it insisted on the ‘group of contracts’ theory and argued that applicable law clauses contained in some other contracts did apply to all contracts that are related, including the “cooperation agreement”. Third, even if the court did decide that the contract did not include a proper choice of law clause, the cooperation contract is closely related to the distribution agreement and must be regulated by the same law.

In an unusual move for a decision that confirms the appellate decision, the Court starts with a broad pronouncement (§14 of the decision) and decides that (a) general principles applicable to international contracts, such as the Unidroit principles, may not be considered as “law” and (b) that they may not be chosen by the parties to regulate their contract according to article 3.1 of the Rome Convention of 1980.

Critical Assessment

First, this pronouncement was not necessary to the decision of the Court. It is an obiter dictum. The Court could have, as did the Paris Court of Appeal, decided that the Unidroit Principles did not apply in the case at hand (and limited its pronouncement to that) because they were simply not referenced in the contract that, apparently (although this is only implied in the discussion of the facts by the Court of Appeal) was silent on the applicable law. The Court could also reach the same decision on the basis of the mandatory nature of the applicable French provisions. Therefore, it had two avenues to confirm the Court of appeal decision without making a strong, bold, broad and overarching declaration.

Instead, for an unknown reason or out of sheer conservatism and strict positive law conception, the Court reverses years of understanding under French law (see already in that sense, Cour de cassation, 13 January 2021, 19-17.157), or at least in French doctrine, that under French law, general principles such as the Unidroit Principles could indeed have some application.

In addition, and more importantly, it was always understood that freedom of contract allowed parties to reference such non-state rules of law. This is reflected in Recital 13 of the preamble to the Rome I Regulation that reads as follows:

This Regulation does not preclude parties from incorporating by reference into their contract a non-State body of law or an international convention.

It is true that such a reference is not very common in practice. Indeed, parties may run a risk by limiting their choice of law to a non-State body of law either because that document is incomplete or would not cover the very question underlying the dispute, or because of the lack of case law to ascertain proper interpretation of these rules.

A final remark as to the effect of that part of the decision by the Court of cassation: it is rendered under the 1980 Rome Convention and not the Rome I Regulation. Strictly speaking, the Court will have to change its decision the next time it will be confronted with a similar provision in a contract regulated by Rome I. Indeed, under the Regulation, it is clear that the Court would not be able to say that parties are not allowed to choose non-State body of law as the applicable law to their contract.

In a post published on this blog in 2022, I addressed the relationship between private international law (PIL) and strategic climate change litigation, focusing on claims brought or supported by children and youth applicants. In those disputes, where plaintiffs are mostly seeking to hold States accountable for the violations of international and/or constitutional law, private international law was bound to have very little, if anything, to contribute.

However, in the same blog post, I also pointed at some developments in the “underworld” of climate change litigation, hinting to the emergence of new court strategies, whereby climate activists (not necessarily children or youth) direct their claims towards big transnational corporations, following in the footsteps of Milieudefensie et al. v. Royal Dutch Shell plc.

“Private” claims of this kind are bound to speak the language of PIL, at least in cases where a foreign element is involved.

Recent developments in the field of climate change litigation confirm this trend. The Four Islanders of Pari case borrows the ordinary tools of private law (tortious liability) in order to hold a foreign transnational corporation accountable for its overall CO2 emissions. This case is particularly interesting for two reasons. First, owing to its timing and the kind of damage alleged by the applicants, this case fits in a wider context of litigation, which is presently involving (or trying to involve) several international bodies and tribunals, thus evidencing a certain complementarity of action, or at least a commonality of end-goals, between private and public international law (A). Second, from the specific standpoint of PIL, this case differs from its predecessors (notably from Luciano Lliuya v. RWE AG) for being beyond the scope of application of EU PIL, the conflict of laws issues raised therein being governed by domestic (Swiss) PIL (B).

A. The Broader Context: the Courtroom Fight against Sea Level Rise.

It is probably not incorrect to read the Four Islanders of Pari case as one small piece of a bigger puzzle, consisting of a fully-fledged courtroom fight against sea level rise, ie one of the most immediate consequences of climate change. Unsurprisingly, this fight is presently carried out primarily by low-lying insular States and their inhabitants: owing to their specific conformation, these islands (mostly situated in the Pacific area) are particularly vulnerable to the short-term effects of climate-change on sea levels, which are exposing them to the risk of recurrent flooding, fresh water salinization and, eventually, (total or partial) disappearance by the year 2050, or sooner.

Against this backdrop, a group of small insular States (eventually supported by a group of like-minded States) have promoted, or is seeking to promote, initiatives before two major international tribunals. In October 2022, a group of States led by Vanuatu announced the preparation of a draft Resolution, intending to prompt the UN General Assembly to seek an advisory opinion from the ICJ “on the obligations of States in respect of climate change”.

The text of the Draft Resolution was circulated among all UN member States at the end of November 2022, with a view to putting it to a vote in early 2023. In parallel with these developments, on 12 December 2022, the Commission of Small Island States on Climate Change and International Law (representing Barbuda, Tuvalu and Palau) has submitted another request for an advisory Opinion to a different international tribunal, the ITLOS.

In both cases, the advisory Opinions seek to clarify the climate change-related legal obligations placed upon States by a rich body of public international law, including the UN Charter, the International Covenants on Civil and Political Rights and on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change, the Paris Agreement, the UNCLOS, and rules of general international law, such as the duty of due diligence, the rights recognized in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the principle of prevention of significant harm to the environment. For evident reasons, a special emphasis is placed on the protection of the marine environment, on the specific vulnerability of Small Island developing States and on the interests of future generations.

Although non-binding, such advisory Opinions may entail authoritative statements of law with legal effects (see ITLOS, Maritime Delimitation in the Indian Ocean, paras. 202-205) and carry great legal weight and moral authority, thus contributing, in their way, to the elucidation and development of international law (ICJ). They could be, in particular, a preliminary step in the quest for greater accountability of international actors vis-à-vis the protection and the restoration of a viable (marine) environment.

Besides the actions undertaken directly by States, the inhabitants of small Pacific islands have been equally active before  judicial or quasi-judicial international bodies.

Among the first initiatives undertaken under the aegis of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), there is a communication to the UN Human Rights Committee (UNCHR) filed in 2015 by a citizen of Kiribati. Claiming that climate change had turned its place of origin in an “untenable and violent environment” , which forced him and his family to migrate, the author of the Communication contested New Zealand’s decision to deny the refugee status. While unsuccessful on the merits (the UN Committee found the denial issued by New Zealand’s authorities was not clearly arbitrary and did not amount to a manifest error or a denial of justice), this initiative is still producing systemic effects for climate asylum-seekers worldwide (see, for example, a recent judgment of the Italian Court of Cassation, quoting the View adopted by the UNHRC).

More recently, a group of Islanders of the Torres Strait filed another Communication with the UNHRC, alleging the violation, by Australia, of a number of ICCPR provisions. They put forth, in particular, Australia’s failure to adopt adequate adaptation measures to protect their lives and way of life, their homes and their culture against the threats posed by sea level rise. In September 2022, the UNCHR found a violation of Article 17 (right to private and family life) and of Article 27 (protection of minorities) of the ICCPR. It ordered the respondent State to pay adequate compensation for the harm suffered by the plaintiffs and to conceive and implement effective measures to secure the communities’ continued safe existence on their respective islands, in meaningful consultations with the communities’ members.

Most interestingly for the readers of this blog, however, public international law has not been the only weapon brandished by the inhabitants of small island States in the fight against rising sea levels.

B. Quid Private International Law? The Four Islanders of Pari Case.

Within the framework of this broader effort to counter the effects of climate change, small State islanders have not neglected the “private side” of court litigation, ie the disputes between private entities before national (civil) courts.

In August 2022, four residents of the island of Pari (Indonesia) introduced a request for conciliation before the Justice of the Peace of the Canton of Zug (Switzerland). This is a preliminary step mandated by the Swiss Civil Procedure Code for pursuing a civil action (Article 198 Swiss CCP).

The claim is directed towards Holcim, a corporation established in Switzerland and specialized in cement-production activities. Holcim figures among the so-called Carbon Majors, ie the hundred or so companies that account for more than 70% of global greenhouse gas emissions since the dawn of the industrial age (see also here). More specifically, the plaintiffs are trying to establish a direct correlation between Holcim’s significant pro-rata contribution to such emissions (0.42% of global industrial CO2 emissions since 1750: source) and the adverse effects suffered by the local ecosystem on Pari Island. For these purposes, these plaintiffs are supported by a wide transnational networks of NGOs, whose alliances straddle the North-South divide [HEKS/EPER (Switzerland); ECCHR (Germany); Walhì (Indonesia)].

Reporting on this case is rather difficult, as no procedural documents have been made available to the general public yet. The analysis below is based on the information provided by the website dedicated to the case, which does not, however, provide for a comprehensive summary of the complaint. As mentioned above, this case is interesting for two main reasons: the type of relief sought by the claimants and the PIL issues raised therein.

The Claim and the Relief Sought

According to what we presently know about the case, four Indonesian claimants “are demanding justice on behalf of the island of Pari, which is facing imminent ruin, and are taking Holcim to court”. The income and subsistence of these plaintiffs is highly dependent on fishing and tourism, ie activities that are severely affected by the rise in sea levels, which has reached a 20 cm increase globally and which threatens the very existence of the island over the next 30 years (see here).

Holcim is asked, inter alia, to “provide proportional compensation for the climate-related damage the plaintiffs have already suffered in Pari Island”. The claim is therefore based, in all probability, on the general rule on civil liability, likely interpreted in the light of international human rights law. Claims of this kind, based on extra contractual liability or a general duty of care, are not new to climate change litigation against States (see, for example A Sud v Italy) or private corporations (Milieudefensie et al. v. Royal Dutch Shell plc or Luciano Lliuya v. RWE AG). However, according to the database of the Sabin Center for Climate Change Law, the Swiss case “is novel and unprecedented ” as it combines compensation (the Lliuya approach) and reduction of GHGs (the Milieudefensie approach).

In fact, in addition to the demand for compensation, the action brought by the four islanders of Pari seeks to compel Holcim to cut CO2 emissions by 43% by 2030, compared to 2019 figures (or to reduce their emission according to the recommendations of the climate science in order to limit global warming to 1.5°C) and to contribute towards adaptation measures on Pari Island. This reference to the 1.5° threshold (set by the Paris Agreement) is an obvious hint of that the case is partly based, or at least relies on, obligations defined by public international law. It thus evidences a certain “confluence” of public and private international law. This request for injunctive relief additionally serves to highlight the commonalities that exist between the Four Islanders of Pari case and the claims advanced by the litigation directed towards States in varied fora around the globe (see again this post).

The Applicable PIL Regime

While being the first case of this kind in Switzerland, the Four Islanders of Pari closely reminds of the German Luciano Lliuya v. RWE AG. Therein, a Peruvian farmer (supported by the NGO Germanwatch) is suing a German electricity company based on its estimated contribution to global industrial greenhouse gas emissions since the beginning of industrialization. These emissions, it is contended, have contributed to the melting of mountain glaciers near Huaraz, and to the correlated rise in the water level of a glacial lake located above his town. As a consequence, his property is currently threatened by floods.

There is, however, an important difference between the two cases. While Lliuya falls within the scope of application of the Brussels I bis and the Rome II Regulations, the Four Islanders of Pari will be entirely governed by the 1987 Swiss Act on PIL (SwAPIL). This vouches for some caution in assessing the translatability to the latter of the “lessons” thus far learned from the former.

The first lesson derivable from Lliuya is that establishing jurisdiction in this kind of cases is a relatively straightforward matter, based on the widely accepted principle of actor sequitur forum rei. Suing in the place of domicile of the defendant under Article 4 of the Brussels Ibis Regulation, as interpreted in Owusu, guarantees access to a (European) forum. The same conclusion seems to apply, prima facie, within the different framework of the SwAPIL. Its Article 2, which functionally corresponds to Article 4 of Regulation 1215/2012, does not enable the seized court to exercise any discretion in deciding whether or not to hear the case (see Goldwin p. 137, a contrario). Pragmatically, the fact that (economically disadvantaged) third state plaintiffs might be required to pay court fees or warranties in order to access the local forum should not be particularly problematic from the standpoint of the right to a court, in cases where litigation is supported by external funding through NGOs or by other means (eg crowdfunding).

The progression of Lliuya before German courts additionally shows that jurisdiction is particularly important as it indirectly determines the applicable procedural law, governing fundamental issues such as the admissibility of the action or the justiciability of the claim. Moreover, in cases like Lliuya or the Four Islanders of Pari, other procedural issues such as the burden of proof, the means and the standard of evidence will play a pivotal role in determining the chances of failure or of success of the action. This means that the choice of forum remains a cornerstone in the litigation strategy of climate change cross-border cases.

Concerning the applicable law, the SwAPIL does not provide for a specific conflict of law rule for environmental damage, along the lines of Article 7 Rome II. As well known, the latter sets out a policy-oriented rule of conflict empowering the person(s) seeking compensation for damage, who is given the choice between the law of the State where the event giving rise to the damage occurred and the law of the State in which the damage occured.

From the standpoint of PIL, the determination of the applicable law might indeed be the major point of contention in the Four Islanders of Pari case, in the light of the very different choice made in this respect by the Swiss legislator. Article 133 SwAPIL provides, at its 2nd paragraph, that where the parties to the dispute are not habitually resident in the same State, torts are governed by the law of the State where the tort was committed (l’État dans lequel l’acte illicite a été commis/das Recht des States…in dem die unerlaubte Handlung begangen worden ist/ il diritto dello Stato in cui l’atto è stato commesso). However, when “the result” occurred in another State, the law of such state applies if the tortfeasor should have foreseen that the result would have occurred there. (English translation provided by Dutoit, p. 595). Therefore, SwAPIL seems to contemplate the well-known alternative between place of the event giving rise to damage and place of the damage, similarly to EU PIL, but it does not confer any choice upon the alleged victim. Conversely, the foreseeability clause set out by the second part of Article 133 SwAPIL, 2nd paragraph, raises a new problem in terms of burden of proof, in relation to which Swiss legal scholarship is divided (Dutoit, p. 595-6).

Unfortunately, as the procedural documents of the Four Islanders of Pari case have not been made available online, it is impossible to properly assess the precise petitum and to determine whether, and to what extent, the tort alleged by the Islanders is Distanzdelikt, or even a ubiquitous tort. There are many factual elements that might be relevant in this respect, such as the place where Holcim is headquartered (as the place where the main decisions in terms of environmental sustainability and green policies are taken); the concrete places (likely scattered around the world) in which Holcim is undertaking its material production activities; and Indonesia, as the place where the specific damage alleged by the plaintiffs materialized (provided that this was foreseeable by Holcim). The possibility of triggering the escape clause under Article 15 SwAPIL must also be taken into account (ie. the application of the law of the State with which the case presents “a much closer” connection). It would be interesting to know whether, in concreto, the plaintiffs are pleading for the applicability of Swiss or a foreign law.

C. Conclusions and Future Trajectories

The Four Islanders of Pari case is still at its very initial stage and deserves to be monitored closely in the near future. Its very existence confirms, however, that private international law is becoming and will become increasingly important in strategic climate change litigation, when this is directed towards private companies such as the Carbon Majors. In a way, disputes of this kind may be seen as complementary to the initiatives undertaken under the aegis of public international law by particularly affected States. There is, in particular, a commonality of objectives, despite the obvious difference in both legal petita and remedies brought before national and international courts.

Another interesting lead to be followed in the future concerns the role played by PIL in cases brought by EU-based claimants against EU-based corporations, based on allegations of false or misleading advertisement. Cases of this kind, which are mushrooming throughout the world’s jurisdictions, may seem purely domestic at a first glance. However, the fact that plaintiff and defendant are, in most cases, domiciled/established in the same State does not exclude, as such, the possibility that the “affected market” may extend beyond national borders, especially where the defendant is a big transnational corporations operating worldwide.

An example of such cases might be the recent FossielVrij NL v. KLM, where a group of environmental organizations is suing (in the Netherlands) the national airline KLM, owing to its ‘Fly Responsibly’ advertisement campaign (which is based on allegedly false claims of “climate neutrality” or “CO2ZERO”).

The (unofficial English translation of the) application is regrettably very concise as concerns the reasoning on jurisdiction and (especially) applicable law. It merely states  that “since both [the applicant] and KLM have their registered offices in the Netherlands, the Dutch court is competent to take cognizance of this dispute. As a result, Dutch law will also apply to the claims of Fossil Free against the defendant”.

While acknowledging, in the application, the wide reach of the Fly Responsibly campaign (here, § 179 : “The campaign will be rolled out worldwide on 13 December in a number of vital, fast-growing markets, the UK, Norway, Sweden, Germany, the US, Canada, Brazil and China”), implemented through TV ads, physical ads at Schiphol Airport, online “banner” ads on KLM websites, marketing emails and targeted ads on social media platforms (here, § 183), the application does not elaborate further on the relationship between the specific claim, the Rome II Regulation and the several options opened under its Article 6.

Cases of this kind also deserve to be closely followed by the private international lawyer.

This post was written by Felix M. Wilke, University of Bayreuth.


The new EU Sale of Goods Directive 2019/771 and its sibling, the Supply of Digital Content and Digital Services Directive 2019/770, understandably have attracted a lot of attention in the field of substantive private law. By contrast, to my knowledge, their (negative) private international law dimension has not been featured in any prominent way yet. In this post, I want to highlight and contextualize this aspect. Any input, e.g. regarding directives I might have missed or explanations different from the ones I offer, is very much welcome.

The Wonderful World of Conflict of Laws in EU Directives

When faced with the term “EU Conflict of Laws”, most people will nowadays immediately think of the different regulations in this area: Rome I to III, the Succession Regulation etc. But this is not the whole story. Some of the Union’s provisions with a direct impact on private international law can be found in directives. Beginning with Article 6(2) of the Unfair Terms Directive 93/13/EEC, many of such instruments on the protection of consumers required the Member States to take “the necessary measures to ensure that the consumer does not lose the protection granted [by the respective legal instrument] by virtue of the choice of the law of a non-Member country as the law applicable to the contract if the latter has a close connection with the territory of the Member States”. Other examples are Article 12(2) of the Distance Marketing of Consumer Financial Services Directive 2002/65/EC and Article 22(4) of the Consumer Credit Agreements Directive2008/48/EC.

Moreover, Article 12(2) of the Time Sharing Directive 2008/122/EC sets forth that, under certain conditions, “consumers shall not be deprived of the protection granted by this Directive, as implemented in the Member State of the forum” where the law of a third country is applicable. (While Articles 17–19 of the new Package Travel Directive 2015/2302 have an obvious connection to conflict of laws, they operate differently.)

All these provisions are still in force. National law of the Member States must contain respective rules – and these rules clearly must be conflict-of-law rules, as they have to affect situations in which the law of a third country would otherwise be applicable (mostly because of a choice by the parties).

A Change of Heart between 2008 and 2011?

Things are different for the new Sale of Goods Directive. While Article 7(2) of the old Sale of Goods Directive1999/44/EC was drafted along the lines of the examples just mentioned, any such provision is now missing from the directive repealing it. (The Supply of Digital Content and Digital Services Directive does not introduce a conflict-of-law provision, either.) The same fate befell Article 12(2) of the Distance Contracts Directive 97/7/EC when the Consumer Rights Directive 2011/83/EU repealed it. From this perspective, EU private international law has actually lost two provisions in the last decade or so.

As the EU legislator seems to have changed its stance on this issue between 2008 and 2011, two possible reasons from this period suggest themselves. The first concerns the new approach to harmonisation of substantive private law by directives, the second the emergence of EU regulations on conflict of laws.

Full Harmonisation

The Distance Contracts Directive and the old Sale of Goods Directive were minimum harmonisation directives. The Member States could maintain or introduce provisions if they ensured a higher level of consumer protection. By contrast, both the Consumer Rights Directive and the new Sale of Goods Directive are full harmonisation directives. Unless otherwise provided, Member States may not maintain or introduce divergent provisions, whether less or more stringent.

Yet no clear link of this changed approach to harmonisation with the present conflict-of-law issue is apparent. True, it is now more or less irrelevant which national law of an EU Member State is applicable to a sale of goods to a consumer. The key rules will be the same across the board (also see Recital 10 Sale of Goods Directive). But this is not with what the respective old provisions and the remaining provisions in other directives were and are concerned. They were and are about protecting the consumer from the application of the (disadvantageous) law of a third country.

Rome I and Choice of Law (in Consumer Contracts)

For anyone interested in EU private international law, the years between 2007 and 2009 have, of course, special significance. In this time frame, the first EU regulations on conflict of laws were passed and became applicable. In particular, Rome I was passed in 2008 and has been applicable to contracts concluded as from 17 December 2009. So, are the rules found in Rome I on consumer contracts and choice of law in general the reason for the lack of conflict-of-law provisions in more recent directives?

As a matter of law, the answer must be negative. This is because the scope of application of Articles 6(2) and 3(4) of the Rome I Regulation on the one hand and of the conflict-of-law rules in the directives on the other hand do not perfectly overlap: The provisions in the directives have not entirely become redundant once Rome I entered into force. For one, Article 6(4) of Rome I excludes certain contracts. For another, even the relatively broad requirement of “directing activities” in Article 6(1)(b) of Rome I only pertains to the Member State in which the consumer is habitually resident. A consumer concluding a contract in another Member State may not be protected even where Article 6 Rome I would encompass a consumer habitually resident in that country. Finally, Article 3(4) Rome I is too narrow to catch all cases subject to the conflict-of-law provisions in directives.

As a matter of policy, however, one can assume that Rome I was a big factor. The Commission’s Proposal for the new Sale of Goods Directive does refer to the protection of consumers under Rome I, although only in the context of compatibility of the draft with EU private international law. (See also Recital 65 Sale of Goods Directive.) When the Commission states that the legislative proposal “does not require any changes to the current framework of EU private international law”, it is not clear whether it took the actual change it proposed to make to EU private international law – eliminating a conflict-of-law provision – into account.

Is there Reason to Mourn?

Life is easier without conflict-of-law provisions in directives, to be sure. Nothing to transpose for national legislators, and no reason for courts to even think about special national conflict-of-law rules favouring consumers. Does this offset the detriments to consumers? One can certainly think so. While the exclusion of some consumers from the protection offered by Article 6 Rome I can lead to some strange results, they only affect a very small number of situations. The practical impact of the conflict-of-law provisions in directives does not seem to have been very big, anyway. As far as I can tell, the Court of Justice only had to deal with any of these provisions once: Case C-70/03 (Commission v. Spain) concerns Spain’s too restrictive transposition of Article 6(2) of the Unfair Terms Directive into its national law.

In any case, the death of conflict-of-law provisions in directives should not be silent. Unlike during the legislative process leading to the Consumer Rights Directive and the new Sale of Goods Directive, the EU legislator should openly communicate that – and preferably also why – it considers such provisions unnecessary. And this not only from a scholarly perspective: In the highly complex realm that is EU (substantive) consumer law, a national legislator might simply miss that a conflict-of-law provision transposing one of the old directives has now lost its base.

The author of this post is Cristina González Beilfuss (University of Barcelona).


The MPA case (Case C-501/20), decided by the CJEU on 1 August 2022, deals, at first sight, with a fairly unusual divorce scenario. The Spanish wife and the Portuguese husband are two members of the contract staff of the European Union working in the latter’s delegation in Togo. Leaving this aspect aside, the case, however, turns out to be quite ordinary. As highlighted by Advocate General Szpunar in his opinion, the situation of European citizens posted to a third State for work reasons is fairly commonplace.

EU expats might have an expectation to be able to divorce in the European Union, particularly, when their connection with the third State in question is tenuous. This seems to be the case here. The spouses were formerly based in Guinea – Bissau; whether they were already employed by the EU at that stage cannot be ascertained by reading the judgment or the Advocate General’s Opinion, but can be safely assumed. In any case, their degree of integration in either Guinea Bissau or Togo seems to be relative. The couple chose to get married in the Spanish Embassy in Guinea-Bissau and the Spanish wife came to Spain to give birth to their two children in 2007 and 2015. It therefore might have seemed only natural to her to file the divorce petition in Spain.

The divorce claim was, in fact, quite standard; she sought the dissolution of the marriage, a decision on the custody of the two children of the marriage and the award of maintenance for the children, including the use of the family home in Togo. But apparently the husband refused to accept that the marriage was over, which is why the divorce became contentious. This was most unfortunate because empirical research has shown that habitual residence is very often not examined unless it is a contested matter, as happened in this case. The court of first instance declined hearing the case. The decision was appealed, because the wife wanted to divorce. The Court of Appeal in Barcelona subsequently made a request for a preliminary ruling on a number of issues.

As regards the dissolution of the marriage, which is the aspect dealt with in this entry, the most significant question referred to the CJEU was the interpretation of the rule formerly contained in Article 6 of Regulation 2201/2003. Many commentators have found this rule confusing, particularly in connection with Article 7 (residual jurisdiction). A clarification by the CJEU is therefore most welcome.

The CJEU chose to interpret the rule literally. A spouse who is habitually resident in a Member State or who is a national Member State can only be sued in another Member State in accordance with the rules of jurisdiction contained in the Regulation. This entails that in an expat situation only the courts in the Member State of the defendant’s nationality (i.e. in the case at hand the courts in Portugal) can have recourse to domestic residual jurisdiction rules. The courts in the Member State of the plaintiff’s nationality have to decline hearing the case. This is what the requesting Court, the Court of Appeal in Barcelona, has done in a decision rendered on the 21 October 2022.

The purpose of this post is not to question the interpretation of the CJEU nor the decision of the Spanish Court. The main problem is, in my view, that the rule as such does not make sense. In the context of marriage dissolution in the strict sense, i.e. in connection with the continuation of the matrimonial bond, there is, in my view, no justification for protecting the defendant, i.e. the spouse that does not want the divorce and making life difficult for the spouse who wants to dissolve the marriage. The rule is moreover only workable if the divorce is contentious and one can distinguish between a defendant and a plaintiff. Would the Spanish court have been able to resort to its domestic rules of jurisdiction had the spouses decided to jointly request the divorce?

 And what are the consequences of the rule? If the Spanish wife wants to divorce in the EU, she has to go to Portugal. Whether Portuguese courts have jurisdiction is, however, uncertain. Article 62 of the Portuguese Código de proceso civil grants international jurisdiction to Portuguese courts when the action may be brought before a Portuguese court under the rules of territorial jurisdiction. Such rules allocate jurisdiction to the courts of the habitual residence or domicile of the plaintiff. The Portuguese courts also have jurisdiction if the fact that gave rise to the cause of action in the lawsuit or any facts leading to the cause of action have taken place in Portugal. Since the Spanish wife never had an habitual residence or domicile in Portugal and there is no factual connection to Portugal, the only possibility left would be to argue that Article 62(c) of the Código de proceso civil, containing a forum necessitatis, applies. The rule seems to be more open ended than the European forum necessitatis as available under the Maintenance, the Succession, the Matrimonial Property and the Registered Partnership Regulations. It grants jurisdiction to the Portuguese courts when effect cannot be given to the invoked right other than through an action filed in Portuguese territory or the claimant has appreciable difficulty in commencing an action abroad, as long as there is a relevant connecting element, either personal or physical, between the subject matter of the dispute and the Portuguese legal order.

A forum necessitatis is, in principle, only available exceptionally if the proceedings in question cannot reasonably be brought or conducted or would be impossible in the third State in question. This has been examined by the Court of Appeal of Barcelona in relation to the maintenance claim ancillary to the divorce petition. Following the guidance given by the CJEU in the MPA decision, the court undertook a detailed analysis of the procedural conditions in Togo and their consequences on the individual case and reached the conclusion that there is no evidence that access to court would not be possible or extraordinarily difficult in Togo.

If the Portuguese courts reached the same conclusion and the Portuguese forum necessitatis was also found to be inapplicable, the Spanish wife would have to seek divorce in Togo. And assuming that they accepted to hear the case, would the courts in Togo dissolve the marriage?  In accordance with Article 714 of the Code des personnes et familles of Togo, the courts in Togo would, in the absence of a common nationality of the spouses, apply the law of their common domicile i.e. the law of Togo. Under the law of Togo divorce is available either on the basis of mutual consent (which is not the case here) or in the absence thereof, on the ground of fault. The Spanish wife would have to plead and prove that marital life had become intolerable as a result of infidelity, excesses, abuse or insults attributable to her husband; that the family life and the safety of children are seriously compromised by notorious misconduct, moral or material abandonment of the home or the sentencing of one of the spouses to a firm sentence exceeding four years of imprisonment. Other grounds are impotence or definitive medical sterility or a refusal to consummate the marriage. Failing that the required separation period would be of at least five years. A stark contrast to the situation under Spanish law which takes the position that nobody should be forced to stay in a marriage he or she no longer wants and accepts divorce on unilateral demand! And to the situation under Portuguese law where divorce can be requested after a de facto separation of only one year!

A forum patriae thus appears to be necessary in order to guarantee access to divorce, not to court. Given the development of EU citizenship which the CJEU has repeatedly stated is destined to be the fundamental status of nationals of the Member States, it is outdated to provide a forum patriae only if spouses hold the nationality of the same Member State, and to treat the situation of an expat couple of EU citizens in the same manner as that of a couple where only one spouse is an EU citizen and even more so as the situation of a couple of an EU citizen and a third State national who happens to be a national of the third State in question.

The implications of EU citizenship in connection with access to European courts were not analysed in the MPA case, simply because the argument was not raised. In his Opinion on Case C‑603/20 PPU, which the CJEU did not follow, Advocate General Rantos derived from Article 20 of the TFUE a right to have parental responsibility examined by a court of a Member State, if the child is an EU citizen (paras 76 and 77). The idea should be further explored in connection with marriage dissolution.

The 2006 Commission Proposal for the amendment of Regulation 2201/2003, which was withdrawn included a provision stipulating that, where neither of the spouses is habitually resident in the territory of a Member State and the spouses do not have the common nationality of a Member State, the courts of a Member State should be competent by virtue of the fact that: (a) the spouses had their common previous habitual residence in the territory of that Member State for at least three years; or (b) one of the spouses had the nationality of that Member State (Article 7 of the Proposal). Life would have been easier for the Spanish wife had this proposal been adopted. In the end, she has been lucky though, because the husband has returned to the EU! Otherwise she would continue being trapped in a marriage that she no longer wants.

A recent Briefing paper titled Updating the European digital identity framework, authored by Mar Negreiro and Maria Niestadt (from the European Parliamentary Research Services), may be of interest to the readers of this blog.

It deals with the proposal of the European Commission, released in June 2021, to create a “European Digital Identity” (EDI) and a dedicated “Wallet” for citizens and businesses in the European Union (hereafter ‘EDI Regulation proposal’).

General Background of a ‘European Digital Identity’ and its Dedicated ‘Wallet’

The ‘European Digital Identity Wallet’ (EDIW) aims to allow people and companies based in the EU, to store person identification data (e.g. name, address, gender, civil status) and electronic attestations of attributes (e.g. bank account, birth certificate, diploma, company statute) for cross-border use. It should also allow users to authenticate and access online public or private services (Article 6a of the EDI Regulation proposal). According to the European Commission, by means of this digital wallet, proving your identity and sharing electronic official documents across the EU Member States will be possible with ‘one click’ on your smartphone!

This legislative proposal surely is a coherent and necessary continuum of the digitalisation momentum in the Union, both in its economic (i.e. internal market policy) and judicial (i.e. judicial cooperation in civil and criminal) dimension. One of its main political objective is for the Member States and the Union to regain control over the identity of European citizens in the digital ecosystem. Indeed, the dominant tech platforms have been developing private forms of ‘digital ID’, competing with national legal identification schemes. Under the EDI Regulation proposal, the digital wallet should only be issued under the supervision of Member States (i.e. directly by the State or based on a mandate/recognition requirements from the State). The project also aims to support the empowerments of ‘EU digital citizens’ in the same vein as the Declaration on European Digital Rights and Principles recently put forward by the European Commission to ensure a human-centred digital transformation in the Union. Users should be “in full control” of the wallet (Article 6a (7) of the EDI Regulation proposal) based on the key-principles of the GDPR, such as the requirement of data minimisation.

However, the proposal also raises several concerns about, inter alia, the effectivity of data protection, the risk of exclusion of parts of European society, the system’s vulnerability to fraud and data loss. I propose to add to that list uncertainties with regard to private international law rules and their implementation in ‘EDIW context’. The first question that occurs to me is as follows: what will be the legal scope of the cross-border portability of the information contained in this digital wallet?

Legal Outlines of the European Digital Identity Wallet
The Acquis based on the eDIAS Regulation

The EDIW proposal builds on the acquis of the eIDAS Regulation on electronic identification and trust services for electronic transactions in the internal market. This latter lays down the conditions for the mutual recognition, between EU Member States, of electronic identification means of natural and legal persons, based on national notified electronic identification schemes (Article 6). By consequence, the identity – unique by essence – of citizens and businesses based in a Member State can be established throughout the Union (or, at least, in the other Member States that have notified such schemes). Concretely, it should for instance allow a person, domiciled in one Member State, to open a bank account in another Member State remotely, via an electronic identification (eID). The bank should be able to verify the age and the legal identity of the client, his/her financial records and the paperwork could be signed online using e-signatures (see here for other ‘promotional’ examples).

For the proper functioning of the mutual recognition principle, the eIDAS Regulation provides for three “assurance levels” applicable to the electronic identification schemes; they characterise “the degree of confidence in electronic identification means in establishing the identity of a person” (see Recital 16 and Article 8). Against this background, mutual recognition of electronic identification means – used for authentication for an online service – is mandatory for the ‘host State’ only when the public body of the ‘home State’ uses the “substantial” or “high” assurance levels for accessing that service online (Article 6).

‘European Digital Identity Wallet’: What Does It Mean?

The EDI Regulation proposal goes further than the current eIDAS Regulation in making mandatory for all Member States to provide electronic identification means and to recognise the notified electronic identification schemes (eDIs) of other Member States. In that respect, it lays down common requirements for the issuing of European Digital Identity Wallets (EDIW) by Member States (Article 6a of the EDI Regulation proposal). These wallets are understood as “electronic identification means […] containing person identification data and which is used for authentication for an online or offline service” (see Article 1, (3) (a) (2) of the proposal, with the understanding that ‘authentication’ enables the electronic identification as well as the origin and integrity of data in electronic form to be confirmed).

By comparison with a more familiar concept, ID cards issued by EU Member States (following the implementation of Regulation 2019/1157 on strengthening the security of identity cards of Union citizens) are also characterised as ‘electronic identification means’ under the eIDAS Regulation and the EDI Regulation proposal. But the future EDIW is much more than a mere digital ID card. It is both “a product and service” that allows the user “to store identity data, credentials and attributes linked to her/his identity, to provide them to relying parties on request and to use them for authentication, online and offline, for a service […] and to create qualified electronic signatures and seals” (Article 1, (3) (i) point 42 of the proposal).

Legal Scope of the European Digital Identity Wallet

The digital wallet should, inter alia, allow the “validation” of person identification data and electronic attestations of attributes by relying parties. More widely, Member States should provide “validation mechanisms” to ensure that the “authenticity and validity” of the digital wallet can be verified. In that respect, the EDIW should meet the “high level of assurance”, by reference to the eIDAS Regulation (see above), in particular with regard to “identity proofing and verification” requirements. The high level of assurance is based on technical specifications, standards and procedures “the purpose of which is to prevent misuse or alteration of the identity” (Article 8, (2), c).

It is also worth mentioning that the EDI Regulation proposal lays down a minimum list of attributes (e.g. address, age, civil status, family composition, financial and company data), the authenticity of which should be verifiable electronically, at the request of the user, by qualified providers of electronic attestations of attributes, against the relevant authentic source at national level (Article 45d and Annex VI).

Eventually, the proposed EDIW framework does not appear very clear about the normative scope of trans-European data flows via the digital wallet, between (presumption of) authenticity and validity.

Some Private International Law Issues Raised by the EDIW
The Legal Implication of the Mutual Recognition Technique

Beyond the strengthening of a common ‘technological infrastructure’, the ultimate goal of the ‘European Digital Identity Wallet’ (EDIW) is to ensure the cross-border recognition of Europeans’ legal identity and additional information about them (i.e. attestation of attributes such as certificates of birth or diplomas). This brings us to more familiar territory, starting with the core question of the legal significance of the mutual recognition technique in this specific context.

Mutual recognition should provide for a cross-border portability of the data stored within the digital wallet, such as age, gender, nationality or company data. In that respect, the relevant methodology may be based on the international circulation of foreign public documents that have consolidated a legal situation in a first Member State and whose legal consequences are expected in the host Member State (cf. the inspiring work of Professor Ch. Pamboukis). In the case of ‘non-decisional’ public documents (e.g. a professional qualification or a driving licence, ‘crystallised’ in the digital wallet issued by the State of origin), these documents should produce non-normative procedural effects of an evidentiary nature. The data stored in the digital wallet may also be presumed to be formally valid, which allows them to flow across legal borders: the person concerned may use them in the ‘host State digital jurisdiction’ in the same way as in his/her State of origin.

When the data contained in the digital wallet are no longer related to administrative/public aspects (e.g. diploma or driving licence mentioned above) but to personal status and individuality (e.g. name, domicile, civil status, family composition), the mutual recognition technique could take on a different meaning. Indeed, the public documents in question are no longer limited to ‘establishing’ a situation certified by a public authority but are of a ‘receptive’ type. The public authority issuing the public document has ‘received’ the private will expressed by the parties in order to authenticate it. In this context, it could be argued that the digital circulation of such a public document (e.g. a marriage or a name certificate) carries a presumption of validity of the legal situation (i.e. negotium) contained in it (i.e. instrumentum). This distinction is well-known among private international law experts and the suggested reasoning should be the same whether the information is ‘digitised’ or formalised in a paper document. Indeed, electronic attestation of attributes should have “the equivalent legal effect of lawfully issued attestations in paper form”, pursuant to the EDI Regulation proposal (Recital 27).

Critical Assessment

The future ‘European Digital Identity Wallet’ could have a real impact on the international recognition of personal and family status in the Union. The same could be said for the status of legal persons. For citizens and businesses, intra-European free movement would be strengthened and, in practice, greatly simplified.

The main methodological consequence from the private international law perspective should be the ‘eviction’ of the conflict-of-laws rules and reasoning. This is understandable insofar as, in practice, the presumption of probative value of a foreign public document, on the basis of mutual recognition, implies, in our view, a presumption of validity of the legal situation it contains (cf. here).

In the European context, this statement should be even more accurate, because of the remarkable influence of EU citizenship and fundamental rights (such as the right to privacy which applies to the identity of individuals) on conflict-of-laws. Several examples may be found in the caselaw of the CJEU, such as the recent Pancharevo judgment (commented on the blog) raising exactly this issue. For part of scholars and many Member States, this is however the pitfall to be avoided. But actually, the intra-European digital flow of personal data, via this European digital wallet, should instead reinforce this trend.

The Interplay Between the EDIW and Other Legal Instruments

It is important to note that the EDI Regulation proposal, like the current eIDAS Regulation, gives priority to other rules of EU and national law on specific sectors. In that respect, the proposal lays down that the (future) regulation “does not affect national or Union law related to the conclusion and validity of contracts or other legal or procedural obligations relating to sector specific requirements as regards form with underlying legal effects” (Article 2, §3). The issue of normative interplay between the EDIW framework and other important instruments will be crucial. This will be the case, inter alia, in the field of personal status, regarding Regulation 2019/1191 on Public Documents but probably also some ICCS conventions (such as Convention n°34 recently entered into force), as well as national rules on the international legal effects of public documents. This is also true for EU instruments which support the cross-border cooperation between public national authorities and the free movement of citizens and businesses, i.e. the IMI System and the Single Digital Gateway.

The ‘One-click EU Recognition’ is not yet ready to be the revolutionary new tool for private international law partitioners, but the European Digital Identity Wallet is definitively a topic for us!

This is the last post in the series dedicated to the empirical analysis of the ECJ’s case law in the field of EUPIL. The previous posts can be found here and here.

This post is slightly different from its predecessors, as the angle of analysis is reversed. Rather than (just) analysing the characteristics of the ECJ’s case law in the field of EUPIL, this post purports to use such case law as an indicator of the transformations in the working methods of the ECJ itself. I refer back to my previous posts as concerns the methodology and definitions upon which this research is based.

The starting point of my analysis is the objective set out by Recital 6 of the Court’s Rules of Procedure (RoP): these aim at “maintain[ing] the Court’s capacity, in the face of an ever-increasing caseload, to dispose within a reasonable period of time of the cases brought before it”.

Chart 1  below shows, in this respect, that this objective is being pursued by the Court in a rather effective manner.

Chart 1

The red line in Chart 1 indicates the evolution over time of the Court of Justice’s overall workload (and not only of preliminary reference procedures). The numbers on the vertical axis shall therefore be interpreted as indicating the total amount of cases filed each year. As I could not find any official statistics pertaining to the 70s, 80s and early 90s, this data was obtained very pragmatically. I used the “advanced search” form on Curia.eu: for each year since 1976, I selected the time frame 01/01 to 31/12, filtering the results based on the type of court (Court of Justice), and the type of date (date of the lodging of the application initiating the proceedings). The red line portrays the results thus obtained. For the sake of consistency, I used this methodology for all the years between 1976 and 2022, even if official statistics are available since 1997. The divergence between the two sets of data (official and unofficial) is negligible (< 5 per year).

What happened in 1979? I am actually not sure. It looks like a huge number of cases on the status, remuneration and benefits of officials were filed that year. For most of these cases, there is no judgment, which probably means they were withdrawn at some point. Their effective impact on the workload of the ECJ remains therefore undetermined.

The line in dark green shows the average length (expressed in calendar days) of preliminary reference procedures in the field of EUPIL (this data is global, as it refers to cases decided with and without an Opinion of the AG, as well as cases that have been withdrawn and removed from the register).

The line in lighter green (which overlaps with the former until 2001) portrays the average length of preliminary references decided with an Opinion of the AG, the line in blue those which dispensed with it. The interruptions in the latter mean that there were no cases decided without an AG’s Opinion in the corresponding years.

Finally, the line in violet represents the average length of urgent preliminary reference procedures (PPUs) in the field of EUPIL. These cases, all dealing with family law, are decided with the support of the AG Opinion (formerly, a View) and a hearing. The average length of the proceedings remains remarkably low: to the present days, 80 calendar days (on this topic, see also this document).

Against this backdrop, the objective set out by Recital 6 seems met: the average length of (ordinary) preliminary reference procedures has been following, over the last years, a decreasing trend. How could the Court manage such result, despite its increasing workload?

Of course, there have been important institutional changes over these four decades: the progressive enlargements of the EU, the devolution of certain competences to the General Court and to the Civil Servant Tribunal (and back again) have all had an indisputable impact on the Court of Justice’s caseload. The purpose of this post, however, is to demonstrate that much was done also from the standpoint of internal (re)organization and working methods. In this respect, the analysis of the procedural treatment reserved over time to EUPIL preliminary references shows the noteworthy adaptability of the Court of Justice’s internal functioning and its ability to optimize the use of its resources. As we will see, there have been significant transformations as concerns the use of judicial formations (A), of the AGs’ Opinions (B) and of hearings (C). This will also be the opportunity to come back on the issue of informal specialization of the Members of the Court, which I remarked in my first post (D).

 A. The Transformations of Judicial Formations

Two important observations can be drawn from the stock chart below: first, EUPIL preliminary references have always represented a negligible part of the ECJ’s total caseload, having amounted to less than ten cases per year until the early 2000s. Second, there has been a considerable shift, over the years, as concerns the judicial formation adopted by the ECJ to decide on the questions raised by these cases.

Chart 2

In the early days of the ECJ’s activity under the 1971 Protocol on the interpretation of the 1968 Brussels Convention, most of the EUPIL preliminary references were decided by the full court. It must be assumed this was a clear and conscious stance taken by that Court with respect to EUPIL cases, and not just the indirect result of a different era, when the ECJ, counted only nine Members and had a very limited caseload, thus having the opportunity to resort to the plenum as the default judicial formation. To the contrary, it is apparent from the judgment rendered in Tessili that the Court could already operate in smaller deciding panels (two “Presidents of Chambers” are mentioned in the part of the decision listing the composition of the court).

The preference for the Full Court, manifested by this early case law, should come as no surprise: the cases decided by this formation between 1976 and 1980 (De Bloos, Mines des Potasse, LTU, to name a few) laid the foundations of modern EUPIL, defining extremely important methodological and terminological issues that still shape today’s way of approaching the new generation of EUPIL Regulations.

What was that “Full Court”, however? It was certainly nothing similar to today’s Full Court, regulated by Article 60 RoP and Article 16 of the Statute. It was admittedly surprising to note that the Full Court of the early days consisted of sometimes 9, sometimes 7 judges, following patterns whose underpinning logic is not immediately perceivable by the external observer. It looks like this “Full Court” was indeed a rather flexible judicial formation, counting a “bigger” and a “smaller” plenum, corresponding in essence to what we call today Full Court and Grand Chamber (I am drawing this information by this scholarly article of 2001).

With the exception of the initial period going from mid-70s until the 80s and another intermission in the early 90s, Chambers of five judges have remained the most common judicial formation for EUPIL cases. The first EUPIL preliminary reference deferred a Chamber of three judges was case 120/79, on maintenance obligations. Since then, this judicial formation has been seldom employed throughout three decades, having become more recurrent over the last years. This can be seen as an integral part of the ECJ’s overall attempt to optimize the use of its resources, including its personnel. Only 6 (7,6 %) of the cases deferred to a Chamber of three since 2003 was decided with the support of the Opinion (2003 being the point in time when the AG’s Opinion was no longer systematically required for all cases: see infra Section B). In practice, this means that these cases did not raise legal questions that, owing to their novelty, importance or technical complexity, called for the advisory intervention of the AG. A Chamber of three is overall more efficient when deciding this type of cases, insofar as the average length of the proceedings before it is 337 calendar days, compared to 437 calendar days that are needed, on average, by a Chamber of five to adjudicate without an Opinion.

A final word on the Grand Chamber which, as we know it, was created in 2003. Owusu was the first EUPIL preliminary reference assigned to this judicial formation, which has been used rather sparingly over time (only 3.8 % of EUPIL preliminary references were assigned to it). The period between 2006 and 2009 was marked, however, by a veritable boom of Grand Chamber cases. This was, after all, an “era of first times”: the first ever preliminary references on the Brussels IIbis Regulation (C-405/06) and on the 1980 Rome Convention (cases ICF and Koelzsch), as well as the first occasion for the ECJ to test the Brussels regime against the challenges brought along by the Internet (cases Pammer and Alpenhof, eDate).

B. The Opinion of the AG

Speaking of eDate, have you ever noticed that its “ancestor”, Shevill, has not one, but two Opinions, delivered by two different AGs? Same things for Marinari, also filed in 1993. As correctly indicated by AG Léger, it could “infrequently happe[n]…, by reason of the reopening of the oral procedure and as a result of happenstance in the order of business of the Court”, that two Opinions are delivered in the same case. The Shevill judgment explains, in this respect, that the case was initially assigned to the Sixth Chamber of the Court (chamber of five) and referred, after hearing the Opinion of AG Darmon in July 1994, « back to the Court », meaning the Full Court. The oral phase of the procedure was consequently reopened before this bigger judicial formation, and a new Opinion was delivered by a different AG, Mr. Léger. In Marinari, the issue was, again, the reopening of the oral phase of the procedure, without any referral to a different judicial formation. Again, two different AGs delivered an Opinion in the case. The fact triggering the second intervention of the AG is, therefore, the reopening of the oral phase of the procedure as such, and not the referral to a different judicial formation.

While the merits of having two different AGs delivering an Opinion in the same case could lie in the potentially different point of view introduced into the debate, thanks to a “fresh start” to the study of the case file, this working method could be deemed inefficient insofar as at least four different persons (the two AGs and their respective référendaires) are called to work on the same case from scratch (in practice, the two AGs adopted the same stance in both Marinari and Shevill).

The reopening of the oral procedure is only ordered in exceptional circumstances and is not a common occurrence. This has not happened again in EUPIL cases since 1993, but it could potentially happen. The new RoP provide, in Article 83, that the Court may at any time order the opening or reopening of the oral part of the procedure, in particular if it considers that it lacks sufficient information or where a party has submitted a new fact which is of such a nature as to be a decisive factor for the decision of the Court, or where the case must be decided on the basis of an argument which has not been debated between the parties or the interested persons referred to in Article 23 of the Statute. It is worth noting, however, that today the reopening of the oral phase of the procedure no longer entails the intervention of two different Advocates General. I can mention two cases, both outside the field of EUPIL, where an order under Article 83 RoP was adopted: C-168/16 and, more recently, C-530/20. In both, a single AG delivered two subsequent Opinions. It seems therefore that the Court is nowadays favouring efficiency over the plurality of views, consistently with the general objective of reducing the length of the proceedings set out in Recital 6 RoP. Also noteworthy is that the involvement of a single AG in each case is now provided also for the delivery of Opinions (in French, Avis) requested in accordance with Article 218 (11) TFEU (Recital 5 RoP).

The biggest innovation concerning the role of the AG –  also made in the attempt to increasing the ECJ’s overall efficiency – happened in 2003. Before this date, the AG had to deliver an Opinion for all preliminary references brought before the Court. This explains why, up to that moment, 100% of the EUPIL preliminary references decided by a chamber of three judges came with an Opinion, whereas only the 7,6 % of the cases assigned to such judicial formation after 2003 called for the AG’s advisory intervention.

Nonetheless, Chart 3 below demonstrates that the great majority of EUPIL preliminary references is decided, even after 2003, with the support of the AG’s Opinion.

Chart 3

Of all EUPIL cases having dispensed with an Opinion, 60 % have been assigned to a chamber of three, and 40 % to a chamber of five. 16% have been decided through a reasoned order under Article 99 RoP (all of them adopted by a Chamber of three, except for C-518/99). The possibility to define a case by means of a reasoned order explains the existence of a certain number of cases decided without an Opinion even before 2003.

C. Hearings

Another area where the Court has striven to increase its efficiency concerns the holding of hearings. According to Recital 6 to the RoP, “in order to maintain the Court’s capacity, in the face of an ever-increasing caseload, to dispose within a reasonable period of time of the cases brought before it, it is also necessary to continue the efforts made to reduce the duration of proceedings before the Court, in particular by … providing for the Court to be able to rule without a hearing if it considers that it has sufficient information on the basis of all the written observations lodged in a case”. As I mentioned in my previous post, a hearing shall be held, according to Article 76 RoP, when it has been requested by an interested person that has not participated in the written phase of the procedure.

Chart 4 below shows the evolution in the use of hearings in EUPIL preliminary reference procedures.

Chart 4

The analysis of more than forty years of case law in a given field of law is also a journey through different drafting styles, used by the Court in its judgments. This is why, in a certain number of cases, it was not possible to determine whether or not a hearing was held. This concerns, in particular, the cases filed between 1984 and 1985. More recently, a certain number of judgments only mention the observations of the parties, without referring either to a “written procedure” or, more explicitly, to “a hearing”. Where there was no AG Opinion, or when this did not clarify this point, these cases were also classified in the “unsettled” category.

This said, it must be noted that the recent trend goes, quite indisputably, towards reducing the number of hearings held in EUPIL cases. Intuitively, holding a hearing will delay the procedure, and it makes sense to limit this effect to the cases where an oral procedure is necessary for the correct understanding of either the legal questions referred to the Court or of the context in which they were raised, as well as in the cases where it serves to preserve the right to be heard of the parties and the interested persons listed in Art. 23 of the Statute. Overall, hearings have been held in 14% of the cases assigned to a Chamber of three and in 62% of the cases decided by a Chamber of five. This percentage drops to 54.6 % in cases decided by a Chamber of five after the current RoP have come into force. There is, however, a certain number of EUPIL cases decided before 2012, whose judgment only contains references to the written phase of the procedure. It must be assumed that, therein, a hearing was not held, and that the possibility to dispense with the oral procedure existed also under the previous RoP.

D. The Specialization of Judges and AGs

To conclude this survey of the transformations made, in the quest for more efficiency, to the working methods of the ECJ, I wish to come back to the issue of informal specialization of judges and AGs, which I remarked in my first post, focusing solely on the 2015-2022 time frame.

I came back to this issue with ambivalent feelings, and I do not have any conclusive opinion on this topic, although I am keen on confirming my initial impression. Chart 5, below, shows the rate of intervention of different AGs in EUPIL cases since 1976.

Chart 5

The picture is indeed quite fragmented, but two observations are in order. First, just eight AGs have been in charge of 50% of the total EUPIL cases (right side of the pie chart), whereas the other 50% of cases is shared between 51 different AGs. Second, the eight AGs on the right side of the chart have all exercised their functions in recent times (late AG Bot, who was the first among them to arrive at the Court, was appointed in 2006). It could therefore be concluded that specialization of AGs – if any – is a relatively recent trend, with the last 15 years testifying of a certain tendency to see a smaller number of AGs systematically involved in EUPIL cases.

Chart 6 below is a variation of Chart 5, taking into account the evolution over time of appointments of AGs to EUPIL preliminary references (click here for a slightly larger picture).

Chart 6

In the attempt to increase the readability of the chart, only AGs having been appointed in more than five EUPIL cases have been named. The category “others”, in yellow, accounts for the remaining cases and groups 27 different AGs (for 74 cases). As remarked above, the specialization appears stronger in recent times, with the yellow category disappearing completely between 2011 and 2017. The recent spike in the yellow category has a clear explanation. AGs Jääskinen, Saugmandsgaard Øe and Bobek, who have been highly active in the field of EUPIL, have ceased their functions in 2019 and 2021 respectively. We are now, it seems, in a phase of transition, where new AGs have taken over and might develop, in the coming months/years, a similar informal specialization in EUPIL cases. Quite remarkable is, in this respect, AG Pikamäe, who already appears in the Chart despite his recent appointment.

The exact same situation exists with respect to Reporting Judges, with the notable difference that only two of the judges appearing on the right side of the pie chart are presently still working at the Court. In this domain domain, the turnover effect will be even higher in the coming months.

Chart 7

Chart 8. Click here for a slightly larger picture.

 

As I already mentioned, the specialization of AGs and Reporting Judges, if any, is purely informal, and should be taken as an objective data emerging from the analysis of existing case law: some among them have simply dealt with EUPIL cases more often than others. This approach could favour internal efficiency, since prior dealings with a certain subject matter could reduce the time needed for assessing the case and take a stance on the legal question it raises. It remains, at the same time, flexible enough to ensure the correct functioning of the Court (for example in terms of equitable distribution of cases among judges/AGs and the prompt dealing of PPUs and PPAs). A more rigid approach to specialization (such as the formal institution of specialized chambers) might jeopardize the achievement of this second “organizational” objective.

As announced in the first post in this series, I will continue my empirical analysis of the ECJ’s case law in the field of EUPIL. I refer back to that blog post as concerns the definition of “EUPIL” and the general methodological framework upon which this research is based.

The focus of this second post is on the participation of States, parties and, more generally, institutions in (EUPIL) preliminary reference procedures. I will first summarize the legal framework governing the observations filed with the ECJ (A) and give some additional information on the collection of data on this topic, which is essential to the correct interpretation of the Charts presented hereunder (B). After some brief considerations on the practical importance of observations in EUPIL cases (C), I will present the collected data from a double perspective: a general one, which looks at the overall level of engagement of States with preliminary references procedures on EUPIL instruments (D); and a subject-specific one, that accounts for the peculiar sectorial interests of some States (E).

A. General Legal Framework for Filing Observations with the ECJ

The participation of States, parties and institutions in the preliminary reference procedure can take the form of either written observations, lodged with the Registrar, or oral submissions at the hearing before the Court.

The legal framework applicable to the filing of written observations is set out by Articles 23 and 23a of the ECJ’s Statute and complemented by its Rules of Procedure (Rop), notably by Article 96. In short, upon reception of a request for a preliminary ruling, the ECJ’s Registrar notifies the order issued by the referring court to the Member States and to the Commission, as well as to the institution, body, office or agency of the Union which adopted the act the validity or interpretation of which is in dispute. All of these, in addition to the parties to the main proceedings pending before the referring court, are entitled to file written observations (Article 96 RoP). Moreover, said notification is sent to the States, other than the Member States, which are parties to the EEA Agreement, to the EFTA Surveillance Authority and to non-Member States which are parties to an agreement relating to a specific subject-matter, where a question concerning one of the fields of application of those Agreements is referred for a preliminary ruling (for Switzerland see, for example, Protocol 2 to the Lugano Convention). These (non-Member) States are also entitled to submit written observations.

In any case, non-participation in the written part of the procedure does not preclude participation in the hearing during the oral part of the procedure.

Not all preliminary reference proceedings encompass an oral procedure: according to Article 76 RoP, the ECJ may decide not to hold a hearing if it considers, on reading the written pleadings or observations lodged during the written part of the procedure, that it has sufficient information to give a ruling. Nonetheless, a hearing shall be held if it is requested by a party or an interested person referred to in Article 23 of the Statute, who did not participate in the written part of the procedure.

Special rules, relating to both written and oral participation, apply to the expedited (PPA) and urgent (PPU) preliminary reference procedures.

The former provides for derogatory rules in relation both to the time limits for filing observations and the scope of the subject-matter addressed thereby, that could be limited to “the essential points of law” raised by the request for a preliminary ruling (Article 105 RoP).

The latter follows a special regime that limits participation into the written part of the procedure: the order of the referring court is notified solely to the Member State from which the reference is made (and not to all Member States), to the European Commission and to the institution which adopted the act the validity or interpretation of which is in dispute (Article 109 (2) RoP). In cases of “extreme urgency”, the written part of the procedure can even be completely omitted (Article 111 RoP).  The other interested persons referred to in Article 23 of the Statute will just receive a communication of the request for a preliminary ruling and of the date of the hearing, with a view to enable their eventual participation into the oral procedure.

B. Methodological Issues Relating to the Collection of Data on Observations Filed in EUPIL Cases

This blog post builds on data collected based on the information systematically included in all ECJ’s judgments. In this respect, it is important to note that the drafting style adopted by the ECJ provides a consistent framework for all decisions issued by the Court. Against this backdrop, the first part of judgments and orders currently lists the submissions made with the Court, without nonetheless distinguishing between oral and written observations. If it is true that certain AGs are systematically introducing this distinction in their Opinions, the fact remains that, nowadays, a) not all the AGs consistently follow this practice and b) not all cases are decided with the support of an Opinion (while a hearing could be held even in cases with no Opinion: see, as an example C-436/13). As a result, the distinction between oral and written submissions could not be correctly apprehended based on the available public data. The limitations to the participation in the written part of the procedure, which are inherent to PPU cases, have therefore no impact on the statistical results presented in this blog post.

The Charts presented below will refer to States’ participation to the preliminary ruling proceedings in general, without distinguishing between oral and written part of the procedure.

C. The Practical Usefulness of Observations in EUPIL Cases

Concerning the objectives pursued through the filing of observations, EUPIL cases are no different from other preliminary references procedures. Nonetheless, this section will be the opportunity to present some preliminary statistical data which are specific to EUPIL cases.

According to point 11 of the ECJ’s Practice directions to parties concerning cases brought before the Court, written observations are a way for the interested persons referred to in Article 23 of the Statute to “set out their point of view on the request made by the referring court or tribunal” and to “help clarify for … the scope of that request, and above all the answers to be provided to the questions referred” by the domestic court. Therefore, States’ observations are, first and foremost, a tool for enlarging the circle of participants in the legal debate before the ECJ. Far from being a face-to-face conversation between the Luxembourg and the referring court, the preliminary reference procedure seeks to involve a larger number of institutional subjects. This approach is consistent with the wide-ranging effects of the judgment rendered by the ECJ at the end of such procedure, stemming from the precedential value of preliminary rulings.

In addition to this more general function, the observations filed by the subjects identified by Article 23 of the Statute and Article 96 RoP have a remarkable practical importance for the correct assessment and understanding of the preliminary questions referred in the specific case. Again, according to the aforementioned Practice directions, observations play “an essential role” in the ECJ’s understanding of the legal problem at stake, as it can thus acquire a detailed and accurate idea of the issues raised by the referred case. In my view, it is useful to distinguish, in this respect, between:

  1. the observations filed by the parties to the domestic proceedings;
  2. the observations filed by the government of the State to which belongs the referring court;
  3. the observations of the Commission;
  4. the observations filed by States other than the forum State.

The observations of the parties to the main proceedings could be extremely helpful in clarifying the factual context in which the dispute arose. While, in EUPIL cases, the ECJ does not adjudicate on facts, these remain extremely important for the correct understanding of the legal questions submitted to the Court. Facts may also help the ECJ in fulfilling its institutional mission, that is making sure that the answer provided to the referring court is as useful as possible for the solution of the problems raised by the dispute pending before it, without nonetheless venturing in factual determinations and legal assessments that rest solely with domestic courts. From this standpoint, the parties to the main proceedings could either complement, specify or even contest the description of the facts made by the referring court. It is  interesting to note that in 79 % of the inventoried EUPIL cases, at least one of the parties to the main proceedings has presented written and/or oral observations before the ECJ. This percentage drops to 67 % in family law cases and 42 % in succession cases.

The observations of the government of the State to which belong the referring court can be equally useful to clarify the factual background of the disputes, especially where one of its public bodies is involved. The point of view of the forum state is also particularly important for clarifying the content and interpretation of the domestic legal framework (procedural or substantive) applicable the specific case. Overall, the forum State has filed observations in 64% of the inventoried EUPIL cases. More detailed data on this aspect will be presented in section D.

The observations of the Commission may provide for an “institutional” point of view on the interpretation of a provision of EU Law. They may also offer interesting insights on the legislative history of the provision or instrument subject to interpretation. Albeit arguably institutional, this point of view is never binding for the Court. The Commission has systematically filed written and oral observations in all EUPIL preliminary references for which there has been a written procedure (this excludes, in practice, most of the cases decided with a reasoned order ex Article 99 RoP and some of the cases that have been deemed inadmissible ex Article 53 (2)). The observations filed by the institution, body, office or agency of the Union which adopted the act the validity or interpretation of which is in dispute pursue a similar purpose. Admittedly, these are not very common in the field of EUPIL. I could only find 4 of such cases: C-501/20 and C-522/20, with observations by the Council of the EU, as well as joined Cases C-453/18 and C-494/18 with observations of both the EU Parliament and the Council of the EU.

As concerns the observations of States other than the forum State, they mostly serve to introduce multiple points of view into the debate before the ECJ. It is very difficult, if not impossible, to gauge all the possible reasons that may prompt one of these States to participate in the preliminary reference procedure. Intuitively, the objective or subjective connections with one of the “foreign elements” of the dispute at stake might play a role. For example, Cyprus only ever participated twice in a EUPIL preliminary reference procedure: once as the forum State (C-519/13) and once in the Apostolides case, referred by a British court with respect to facts which largely occurred in Cyprus and upon which the courts of this country had adjudicated. C-157/12 is the only EUPIL case where Romania has intervened in a preliminary reference procedure not triggered by its own domestic courts. The case originated from Germany and concerned a dispute between two companies, one of which established in Romania, the courts of this country having also rendered the judgment whose recognition was a stake. The nationality of the parties, or other relatable interests, may also play a role (for example, Greece also submitted observations in Apostolides, the applicant being a member of the Greek Cypriot community). Any further discussion on the reasons behind States’ interventions would be entirely speculative in nature: any of the States identified by Article 23 of the Statute is free to participate in the procedure before the ECJ to submit its own point of view on the interpretative solution to be given to the preliminary questions, without having to substantiate a specific interest to these purposes.

D. Data from Existing Case Law

Coming to the concrete results of my analysis, the review of 46 years of ECJ case law on EUPIL instruments evidences a remarkable engagement of States with such preliminary reference procedures. Only 8 % of the total cases have elicited no observations from the side of at least one State.

In Chart 1 below, States on the y axis are ordered based on the total number of observations filed in EUPIL cases (orange column).

Chart 1

The blue column on the left indicates the total number of EUPIL preliminary references raised by the domestic courts of the concerned country. This datum should be read in conjunction with that portrayed by the gray column, showing the number of observations submitted by the government of each State in cases referred by its own domestic courts. The yellow column on the right show the number of observations filed by each government in EUPIL cases referred by courts of other Member States.

With the sole exceptions of the Netherlands, Belgium, Cyprus and Bulgaria, the orange column (which corresponds to the sum of the gray and yellow columns) is systematically taller than the blue one, showing that national governments tend to be more engaged in the dialogue with the ECJ than their domestic courts are. Particularly remarkable are the results pertaining to the Czech Republic, Spain and Portugal: despite the low number of EUPIL referrals raised by their respective national courts, the governments of these countries have consistently intervened in cases filed by other Member States’ courts in a variety of legal fields (cf. Charts 5, 6, 7 and 8 below).

Chart 2 is a specification of the relationship between the blue and the gray columns of Chart 1. It expresses, in percentage value, the rate of participation of each national government in the cases referred by its own domestic courts.

Chart 2

Incidentally, the States with the highest intervention rate (100%) are those whose domestic courts have been only moderately active in referring EUPIL cases to the ECJ, as evidenced by the blue columns of Chart 1 above. This may suggest that States with a higher number of domestic referrals might have to optimize the use of their resources, by choosing a participation strategy that contemplates no systematic engagement with “domestic” cases, this being forsaken where the legal question raised therein is not deemed sufficiently important or significant. This could explain, for example, the relatively low engagement of the Austrian and German governments with domestic cases.

Concerning the continuity of  States’ engagement over time, the analysis of a sample of States (the three States having filed the highest number of observations) evidence that it tends to be relatively constant, with a slight drop towards the end of the last decade. The line in orange, which is constant in the three countries, indicates the temporal progression of the totality of EUPIL preliminary rulings requested from the ECJ.

Chart 3

 

As mentioned in my previous post, the UK began to participate in preliminary reference procedures relating to the 1968 Convention even before it formally became a Party to that international treaty. This was justified in the light of the obligation to ratify that Convention upon accession to the EU, set out by its Article 63, and the prospective precedential value that the ECJ’s judgments would have acquired in the domestic legal system. To the contrary, the Swiss government submitted its first observations in case C-133/11, lodged on 18 March 2011. The Lugano II Convention entered into force for Switzerland on 1 January 2011. From that moment onward, the Swiss government has been quite active before the ECJ (all of its observations concern the Brussels-Lugano regime, except for one case on the Service Regulation), its overall engagement with EUPIL cases having nonetheless dropped in recent years.

Chart 4

 

E. States’ Sectorial Interests

It is noteworthy that the States’ engagement with EUPIL cases tends to be sector-specific. Charts 5, 6 and 7 8 are breakdowns of Chart 1, accounting for the number of observations filed by each national government in four macro-areas: the Brussels-Lugano regime (Chart 5), which comprises the 1968 Brussels Convention, the Lugano II Convention and Regulations 44/2001 and 1215/2012; family law (Chart 6), composed by Regulations 1347/2000, 2201/2003,  4/2009 and 1259/2010 ; successions (Chart 7), ie Regulation 650/2012 and the “smaller”/procedural regulations (EAPO, EPO, EEO, ESC Regulations; Chart 8).

Chart 5

Chart 6

Chart 7

Chart 8

See here for additional charts and data relating to the observations filed in cases on the Rome regime (the 1980 Rome Convention and Regulations 593/2008, 864/2007) and the Service and Evidence Regulations.

Again, the Member States on the y axis are ordered based on the overall number of the observations filed in each domain, and the logic behind the columns’ colours is the same as that described in relation to Chart 1. It is very apparent that the balances of forces among States vary considerably from one domain to the other, following a logic that is not always perceivable by the external observer. Quite remarkable, in this respect, are the attitudes of Spain and Hungary under the Succession Regulation. These Member States have systematically filed observations in this domain, despite the absolute lack of domestic referrals. In fact, Oberle is the only (admissible) succession case where the Spanish government did not file observations. Lacking any other self-evident explanation, it must assumed that this sectorial engagement is tied with domestic policies in the concerned area of law.

I am coming back to the topic of a recent post published on this blog, where I analyzed the trends emerging from seven years (2015-2022) of ECJ case law in the field of judicial cooperation in civil matters.

I would like to thank the readers of this blog, who gave me feedback and ideas for new research directions. Building on these suggestions, I purport to write a series of related posts on specific aspects of EU Private International Law (EUPIL) cases brought before the Luxembourg Court.

The planned posts aim to promote a more comprehensive understanding of the ECJ’s rulings on EUPIL instruments, by bringing attention on the very first part of the judgment: despite being often overlooked by legal scholars, this can be quite interesting in its own way.

The present post, the first in the series, will focus on the origin of the EUPIL preliminary references brought before the ECJ (third red box in order of appearance).

The second post in the series will look into the role of States within the preliminary reference procedure and their respective level of “engagement” with EUPIL cases, as evidenced by the observations filed with the ECJ pursuant to Article 23 of its Statute (eighth red box in order of appearance; I am very grateful to Martin Margonski for the suggestion).

A third post will use the case law in EUPIL to highlight the internal transformation of a Court – the ECJ – that has seen its caseload increase by more than 450% since 1976, while succeeding in keeping the average length of proceedings more or less constant over the last two decades. Against this backdrop, the analysis of the case law in the field of EUPIL demonstrates the ECJ’s great adaptability to an ever-increasing demand for preliminary rulings and the efforts made for ensuring a more rational use of its own human and material resources.  This concerned, in particular, the use of judicial formations, AGs’ Opinions and hearings (first, seventh and ninth red boxes in order of appearance).

A. Methodology

All these research questions presuppose a “dynamic” analysis of the evolution of the ECJ’s case law in the field EUPIL over time. Because of this, it was no longer possible to exclude from the analysis the (substantial) case law developed under the 1968 Convention, at the risk of altering the statistical validity of the conclusions drawn from the collected data.

For this reason, these new blog posts are based on a larger database, and ‘EUPIL’ is now understood as encompassing also the 1968 Brussels Convention and the 1980 Rome Convention,  in addition to the instruments already included in the scope of the pre-existing analysis. As a reminder, these are Regulations 44/2001 and 1215/2012, the Lugano II Convention, Regulation 1347/2000, Regulation 2201/2003 (since no cases have yet been filed under the new Brussels II-ter Regulation); Regulation  4/2009; the Rome Regulations (593/2008, 864/2007 and 1259/2010); the Succession Regulation and the ‘smaller’ Regulations (EAPO, EPO, EEO, ESC, Service and Evidence I Regulations). The Regulations on matrimonial and registered partnership property issues have been taken into account, but there is currently no request for interpretation concerning them.

The time frame covered by the research is consequently no longer limited to the last seven years, taking into account the totality of the ECJ’s case law in EUPIL since 1976, when the first cases on the interpretation of the 1968 Brussels Convention were filed.

B. The Origin of Preliminary References in EUPIL Cases.

As announced above, this first post deals with the origin of requests for preliminary rulings on EUPIL instruments. “Origin” is understood in a twofold way: first, as geographic origin (1) and, second, as “procedural” origin, meaning by this the status and ranking of the domestic court making the referral (2).

1.  The Geographic Origin of Preliminary References in EUPIL.

Where are the requests for preliminary rulings in EUPIL coming from? Does this have an impact on the substance of the legal solution shaped by the ECJ?

The first question is relatively easy to answer. The referring court is identified in the very first lines of the judgment. When taken individually, this datum might not be overly significant. Conversely, a systematic compilation of the origin of all the preliminary references raised in the field of EUPIL could reveal interesting trends and national attitudes towards this area of EU law.

In my previous post, the analysis of the last seven years of case law  evidenced remarkable differences in the amount of preliminary rulings requested by each Member State. The new survey, based on a broader database, just confirms these conclusions. It also confirms Germany’s leading role as undisputed propeller of EUPIL case law before the ECJ.

Chart 1

The chart above shows the number of referrals under the Brussels-Lugano regime in shades of blue, the Rome regime in shades of green, the referrals in the field of family law in shades of red, successions in black and “smaller” procedural regulations in shades of yellow. Evidence and Service have their own distinctive colours.

It is apparent that there still exist considerable differences among the Member States. Nonetheless, in assessing Chart 1, due regard should be paid to the seniority of EU Membership: clearly, national courts belonging to the Member States who joined the EU at an earlier date had, over the last 46 years, more opportunities to refer cases, including EUPIL cases,  than those who joined in the 2004, 2007 or 2013 enlargements. I created the chart below in the attempt of obtaining a better picture of the “chronological evolution” of the Member States’ requests for preliminary rulings on EUPIL instruments (click here to enlarge the picture).

Chart 2

The colours used should give a more immediate understanding of the changing balances, over time, between “elder” and “younger” Member States: the shades of blue indicate founding Member States; the shades of pink those which joined in 1973; the shades of orange/yellow designate the Iberian enlargement; the shades of brown the 1995 accession; the shades of green the biggest expansion so far, occurred in 2004. Black and dark grey are used, respectively, for Romania and Bulgaria, which joined in 2007. Greece (1981) and Croatia (2013) have their own distinctive colours (violet and red).

It must be stressed that each country’s contribution is calculated not according to the number of cases referred to Luxembourg, but rather on the number of interpretations requested with respect to the EUPIL instruments mentioned above. For example, in case C-307/19, the referring Croatian court requested the interpretation of the Service Regulation, the Brussels Ibis Regulation, the Rome I and the Rome II Regulations. This case is therefore counted 4 times in the chart above (which explains the big red smear corresponding to 2015). Here, an amended version of the chart, showing the number of cases filed with the ECJ, regardless of the number of EUPIL instruments involved in each of them.

Seniority alone cannot explain the considerable differences in the amount of preliminary rulings referred by Member States of comparable size and seniority (eg. France and Germany), or between countries which are very dissimilar in both respects (eg. Italy and Austria). Spain is another good example of the relative unimportance of the seniority factor: a Member State since 1985, this country is a late bloomer when it comes to preliminary references in the field of EUPIL, the first Spanish referrals dating of 2014 (two cases on the Service Regulation).

It can be assumed that, in today’s cosmopolitan world, all Member States are exposed to international commerce and cross-border mobility of people, even if maybe not equally so. As a result, their domestic courts will naturally come in contact with (EU)PIL cases and might find themselves in the position of harboring a “reasonable doubt” on the interpretation of one of the instruments mentioned in Section A. Under those circumstances, said courts should (or shall, depending on their status) refer a preliminary question to the Court of Justice. Seen from this standpoint, the results presented in Charts 1 and 2 are particularly interesting, insofar as they trigger further questions as to (a) the effective impact, if any, of the geographic origin of the preliminary reference on the solution given by the ECJ to the legal questions submitted to its consideration; and (b) the underlying reasons for the greater activism of certain Member States’ courts.

(a) The (Ir)Relevance of the Geographical Origin of the Preliminary Reference

As for the first question, it could be very tempting to answer in the affirmative: the geographic origin of the preliminary reference might play a role. After all, the referring court belongs to a given legal system and, in the decision raising its interpretive doubts, it will logically present the problem from the standpoint of its national law. This circumstance could, hypothetically, introduce a national bias in the reasoning of the ECJ and influence the result of the preliminary reference procedure.

Nonetheless, there are, in my view, two arguments that vouch for the dismissal of such fears.

The first argument profits from the benefit of hindsight: a closer look at the ECJ’s case law reveals that it has always endeavoured to “detach” its interpretation of the legal concepts used by EUPIL instruments from the meaning they acquire under the national law(s) of the Member States, according to the well-known principle of autonomous interpretation. It can be added that, in the more complicated cases, the ECJ has the possibility of asking its Research Department for a comparative study on the meaning of a given legal concept in the Member States (these notes are sometimes published on the Court’s website). There is, therefore, a concrete effort to go beyond the specific circumstances of the case, including its geographic origin, with a view to shaping an interpretive solution that could easily be transposed and implemented in any Member State.

The second argument is based on a more pragmatic consideration: the fact that some national courts engage the Luxembourg Court more often than others does not limit, in any event, the (geographic) scope of the legal debate. The dialogue triggered by the preliminary reference procedure is never a one-to-one conversation between the ECJ and the referring court. To the contrary, all Member States (and even some non-Member States) can take part to the discussion by submitting written and oral observations pursuant to Article 23 of the ECJ’s Statute. As I have already announced, there will be a separate post on this topic and it makes no sense to go deeper into it now. It suffices to say that these observations can be a way, for each State, of introducing a “national perspective” on the desirable approach to the solution of a preliminary question, regardless of its contingent origin.

It shall also be added that Member States have made (and still make) extensive use of this instrument. Particularly telling are, in this respect, the very first cases addressed by the ECJ, the (in)famous Tessili and De Bloos, both decided in 1976. The judgments rendered therein testify of the firm resolution of the UK to submit its observations on those questions, despite not even being, at that time, a Party to the 1968 Convention. In the next post, it will also be shown that some national governments have been considerably active, over the years, in filing written and oral observations in the cases brought before the ECJ (by courts of other Member States), despite the relatively low direct engagement of their own national courts with the preliminary reference procedure.

(b) The Reasons Behind the Differential Engagement of Member States’ Courts with Luxembourg

As I mentioned above, courts in Member States should/shall refer a preliminary reference to the ECJ when they are faced with a reasonable doubt on the interpretation of a EUPIL instrument. It would be simply illogical and totally out of touch with reality to explain the result presented in Chart 1 as the consequence of a lack of self-assurance of German and Austrian courts.

The causes of the differential engagement of Member States’ courts with the preliminary reference procedure must be sought elsewhere, and are multi-factorial at best.

It is safe to assume that some non-legal, but rather socio-economic criteria will also play a role (for example, the attitudes and dispositions of the local population towards court litigation, which is a conditio sine qua non of the preliminary reference procedure). The comprehensive identification of these factors remains extremely difficult and is beyond the purpose of this blog post. Nonetheless, based on an open-ended, experimental approach to this research, I tried to compare the data on the geographic origin concerning the preliminary references on EUPIL instruments and those raised in “related” matters, such as judicial cooperation in criminal matters or public procurement, the latter being understood as the “public counterpart” of private law contracts. The ECJ’s case law in the field of public procurement is, in this respect, particularly revealing, insofar as it shows opposite trends as compared to the case of EUPIL, with a striking and overwhelming activism of Italian (administrative) courts and a very low rate of engagement of their German and Austrian counterparts.  It must be concluded that there are considerable variations in the geographic origin of preliminary references  across the different branches of EU law. This circumstance offers no further explanation to the results presented in Chart 1, but warns against too quick or too broad generalizations about the existence of national “attitudes” or “prejudices” towards the procedure under Article 267 TFEU.

Coming back to the field of EUPIL, a combined reading of the data concerning the geographic and the procedural origin of the preliminary references raised in this subject-matter might pave the way to some additional (and highly speculative) explanations of the results presented in Chart 1.

2. The Procedural Origin of Preliminary References in EUPIL.

Over the last 46 years, almost a half of the preliminary questions raised in relation to EUPIL instruments came from the Member States’ Supreme Courts, followed by first instance courts as a distant second.

Chart 3

There could be, in my view, two explanations of this result.

The first one is grounded in the Member States’ procedural laws: some of them may provide for the possibility of leapfrog appeals to the Supreme Court, with a view to conclusively settling procedural issues (such as international jurisdiction) at an early stage of the proceedings (see, for example, the mechanism set out by Article 41 of the Italian Code of Civil Procedure). While the existence of such procedural devices could in principle offer an explanation to the data portrayed in Chart 3, the persuasiveness of this hypothesis will finally depend on how frequent and available such mechanisms are at the national level, which is for a comprehensive study in comparative procedural law to determine.

A second explanation, which I personally find more convincing and of more general application, is based on the CILFIT criteria. Said otherwise, Supreme Courts tend to raise preliminary questions more frequently than lower courts simply because they are under the legal obligation to refer when faced with a reasonable doubt on the interpretation of a EUPIL instrument, unless this doubt can be solved with the application of the acte clair or éclairé doctrines. Conversely, lower courts retain the discretion, and not the obligation, of referring the case to Luxembourg when faced with a comparable doubt (unless they are acting as a court of last resort in a given matter).

In my opinion, this result could be combined with the data on the geographic origin in two ways.

(a) Divergent National Interpretations of the CILFIT Criteria

First, it must be remembered that the CILFIT criteria provide domestic courts with “general guidance”, that could be subject to different interpretations. A research note commissioned in 2019 to the Research Department of the ECJ confirms that the understandings and practical applications of those criteria vary considerably among Member States. It is also noteworthy that, while this research note was not requested with specific reference to the field of EUPIL, it mentions on several occasions its instruments when providing for concrete examples of the divergent applications of the acte clair or éclairé doctrines by national Supreme Courts.

In a 2001 case relating to jurisdiction over insurance contracts under the 1968 Brussels Convention, the Irish Supreme Court sought guidance in the Schlosser Report and concluded that “there [was not] any necessity for a reference to the Court of Justice of the EC pursuant to the 1971 Protocol to the Convention”. The Joint Chambers of the Italian Court of Cassation seem to consider, in a rather general statement, that the line separating the scope of application of the Brussels I and the Insolvency Regulations is an acte clair (despite the huge ECJ case law on this point), not subject to the obligation of a referral to Luxembourg (Order No. 10233 of  26 April 2017). Further examples of the acte clair and acte éclairé doctrines can be found in a Maltese and in two Latvian Supreme Court cases on the recognition and enforcement of judgments in civil and commercial matters (respectively, GIE Pari Mutuel Urbain (PMU) v Bell Med Ltd & Computer Aided Technologies Ltd, 224/2006/1 and judgments SKC-771/2018 (C30672916) and SKC-414/2017 (C30465614)) and in a Slovenian Supreme Court case on the temporal scope of application of the Brussels I Regulation ( Order III Ips 164/2008 of 3rd February 2009). In a Romanian EUPIL case, the domestic court refused the referral to Luxembourg owing to the expiration of the deadline set by national procedural law for the inter partes phase of the proceedings, marking the beginning of the deliberation phase in which no referrals to the ECJ should be allowed (decision 786/CM/2011 of the Curtea de Apel de Constanța).

There are, moreover, plenty of examples where domestic Supreme Courts have not referred a preliminary question under Regulation 2201/2003, based on diverse considerations relating to the inherent characteristics of the procedure before the ECJ. For example, the Lithuanian Supreme Court did not raise a question on an inconsistency in the Lithuanian text of Article 12 of Regulation 2201/2003. This Court feared, in particular, that a referral from its side would have prompted similar initiatives from other Member States’ courts and would have, finally, increased the workload of the ECJ to the detriment of the prompt decision of preliminary references in matters of family law (decision no e3K-3-426-969/2016). Both in Malta and in the UK, the seized courts expressed reasonable doubts as to the correct interpretation of a provision of the Brussels IIbis Regulation, but refused a referral to the ECJ fearing undesirable delays to the national procedure (case 35/16/1JVC, decided on 6 January 2018 (Malta) and case In the matter of N (Children) [2016] UKSC 15 (UK)). I just remark, in relation to the British case, that the average length of a PPU procedure before the ECJ is 80 calendar days (60, a couple of years back) and, within this time frame, the cases are decided with a hearing and an Opinion of the AG.

There is no need of entering into the merits of these national interpretations of the CILFIT criteria. It suffices to say that divergent national interpretations of the obligation to refer could provide for a (certainly partial) explanation of the uneven geographic distribution of preliminary references in EUPIL cases.

(b) The Practical Effects of the Application of the CILFIT Criteria and National Procedural Law

Second, the fact that the majority of EUPIL preliminary questions are referred by Supreme Courts can have important practical reverberations for the parties to these disputes. These parties might have to sit through three court instances before having a definite answer on issues, such as jurisdiction or applicable law, that should usually be defined in limine litis. This means lengthy litigation, especially in those Member States where the Supreme Court might not have the power to decide the case itself, in conformity with the ECJ’s ruling, having conversely to remit the case to the lower court(s). Lengthy litigation entails, in turn, high(er) costs, that might be an incentive to desist or to settle the case at an earlier stage, before a referral to Luxembourg becomes mandatory.

These remarks may open a new perspective on the interpretation of the data on the geographic origin of the preliminary references. The costs relating to access to justice and, more generally, to court litigation, the availability of funding, the existence of collective redress procedures in a given legal system might be among the (legal) factors behind the uneven distribution of EUPIL referrals among Member States, insofar as these features of domestic procedural law might increase the likelihood of bringing a case as far as the court of last resort.

3. Final Remarks on the Procedural and Geographic Origin of EUPIL Preliminary References.

It should finally be noted that, albeit general, the leading role of Supreme Courts does not equally characterize all Member States. In some of them, the trend is actually reversed, with first and second instance courts taking up the most prominent role.

Chart 4

Also noteworthy is the temporal dimension of the involvement of Supreme Courts. Data from Germany and Austria are consistent in showing a greater activism of first and second instance courts between 2008 and 2018.

Chart 5

Incidentally, this time frame corresponds to the point in time where 1) the Treaty of Lisbon entered into force, lifting the procedural limitations to ASFJ referrals from courts other than courts of last resort and 2)  but  ECJ’s case law in the field of EUPIL starts to get more diversified. In fact, the first request for a preliminary ruling that does not concern the Brussels-Lugano regime dates of 2006 and concerns Regulation 2201/2003. Non-Brussels/Lugano cases have become recurrent in the following years.

Chart 6 below is a breakdown of Chart 3. It considers the procedural origin of the referrals raised in the different subject-matters (grouped by macro-areas) covered by EUPIL instruments.

Chart 6

This result needs little explanation: in family law (Regulation 2201/2003, Regulation 4/2009, Regulation 1259/2010), successions, applicable law (Regulations 864/2007 and 593/2008, as well as the Rome Convention)  and in the “smaller Regulations”, the role played by Supreme Courts is not as prominent as in the field jurisdiction, recognition and enforcement of foreign judgments in civil and commercial matters. Also noteworthy is the comparison of data relating to post-Lisbon referrals: 47 % of the overall referrals made after 2009 in the field of civil and commercial matters still come from supreme courts, as opposed to 39 % of the referrals in family law, 33 % in successions and 5,5 % of the cases concerning the smaller procedural Regulations (including Evidence and Service).

This might mean that lower courts could be more keen on using their discretionary power to refer when dealing with an sub-field of EUPIL lacking the support of a longstanding and well-established supranational case law, or, alternatively, when a fundamental interest of the person is at stake. Significant, in this last respect, is the fact that only 5 of the 17 PPU cases thus far decided by the ECJ in the domain of EUPIL were referred by a Supreme Court. These cases all dealt with parental responsibility, abduction and maintenance in situations involving a minor.

This post, written by Pascal de Vareilles Sommières, who is a Professor at the University of Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne, is the seventh in a series concerning the proposed codification of French Private International Law. Previous posts relating to the French Draft Code addressed the issues of renvoiforeign law, the recognition of marriages, companies and parentageA German perspective on the draft was also offered here.


Article 15 is the first provision in the title II of the French Project of Code of Private International Law (the Code project), on “Jurisdiction of courts”. It reads as follows:

Unless provided otherwise in this code, jurisdiction of French courts results from the rules on venue in domestic procedural law, which are extended to international matter – subject to their adjustment as it may be required for that matter –, especially the rule on venue based on the domicile or on the habitual residence of the defendant.

Overview of Article 15

Under Article 15, legal bases for jurisdiction of French courts over cross-border disputes are basically to be found in the French rules on venue (place of the lawsuit) as they apply in domestic proceedings, except if a specific rule on jurisdiction has been codified and applies to the case. A striking feature of this rule is that it does not address the jurisdictional issue by itself, but by reference to other rules that were made for domestic litigation. It has been coined as a default rule – or a “principle” in the words of the Report to the Minister of Justice on the project of Code of Private International Law (the Report), recalling (p. 15) that it comes from a former ruling by the Cour de cassation (see the Report, p. 15 at footnote 5, referring to Cass. Civ. 19 October 1959 Pelassa, and Cass. Civ. 30 October 1962 Scheffel). As a default rule, the rule applies in any particular case with the proviso that the case is not covered by a specific rule on jurisdiction within the Code project. As such, it has the importance of a general principle: exceptions may exist, but they keep the status of exceptions, inspired by data specific to the category for which they are provided, and applying only to cases falling in that category.

One particular jurisdiction basis for French courts that draws on this rule is where the domicile or the habitual residence of the defendant is in France: Article 15 expressly mentions the extension of the corresponding venue rule (French Code of civil procedure, Article 42) to disputes arising in an international setting. Such a jurisdiction rule (well known in Latin: Actor sequitur forum rei), is classical in comparative private international law and consequently gained its status as a principle in EU jurisdiction rules in civil and commercial matters (Article 4 of the Brussels I bis Regulation). Needless to say, Actor sequitur… is not the only rule on venue in the French Code of civil procedure, and, under Article 15 of the Code project, others shall extend to international litigation before French courts – at least, each time they are not ruled out by a specific provision on jurisdiction that the Code project enacts.

In some cases, the Code project sets up straightforward specific rules on jurisdiction for international litigation before French courts, as in the field of personal status, where Article 34 provides for jurisdiction of French courts if the domicile or habitual residence of the person whose status is at stake is located in France at the time when the dispute is introduced before the court.

Rules on jurisdiction in the field of contractual and non-contractual obligations (Articles 88 and 91) are good examples of less straightforward jurisdiction rules laid down by the Code project. On the one hand, they draw on rules of venue applying to domestic litigation (French Code of civil procedure, Article 46) and, to that extent, they belong to these venue rules adjusted to international litigation mentioned by Article 15 (see the Report, p. 16). On the other hand, they appear within the Code project as specific legal rules (Article 88 §2; Article 91 §2), proper to international disputes. Under these provisions, in contractual matters, legal bases for jurisdiction of French courts are the place of delivery of the goods and the place of provision of the service; in extra-contractual matters, legal bases for jurisdiction of French courts are the place of the harmful event and the place where the damage is suffered. Of course, in both fields, French rules on jurisdiction apply subject to international convention or EU law (Article 88 §1; Article 91 §1); and we all know that EU law in civil and commercial matters does not rule out the rules on jurisdiction of Member State courts, if the defendant is domiciled in a country which is not a EU Member State (Article 6 of the Brussels I bis Regulation).

General Assessment of Article 15

Is the rule laid down by the Code project in Article 15 a satisfactory one? We must confess our frowning on reading it. The reason is that, in our opinion, the reference to rules on venue in domestic disputes, as default rules on jurisdiction issues in international litigation, made by Article 15 of the Code project, falls beside the point.

The mere fact for the Report to emphasize that the general rule provided by Article 15 belongs to those provisions, in the Code project, intending to consolidate advances previously gained (“acquis”), or to maintain traditional solutions in spite of scholarly criticism (p. 15), remains unsatisfactory to us.

A first reason for scepticism is that the extension of domestic rules on venue to international litigation, when it comes to determining legal bases of jurisdiction of a country’s courts, is enshrined in the Code project, even though this extension principle is said to fall under criticism of commentators: one expects a response to that criticism by the drafters of the Code project prior to have it set aside. A second reason is that it is awkward for the Code project drafters to set up, as a default rule or principle on jurisdiction of courts in international disputes, a mere reference to rules on venue  made for domestic disputes, especially when it is simultaneously admitted that “no one today denies the specificity” of the nature of international jurisdiction of a country’s courts and of the rules laid down to fix it, compared to domestic venue (see the Report, p. 15).

Everyone interested in EU law on jurisdiction in civil and commercial matters knows the huge amount of dissatisfaction left in practice by criteria like the place of performance of obligation, the place of delivery of goods, and the place of provision of service, as grounds for jurisdiction in the field of contracts. The same dissatisfaction stems from criteria like the place of the harmful event and the place of damages, used for the same purpose in the field of torts. Having them endorsed by French rules on international litigation just because they are used as venue grounds in domestic proceedings is at least questionable, as is questionable the assertion by the Report that “the extension principle [of domestic venue provisions] has the advantage that it provides for a connecting factor easy to implement each time one cannot find in the Code project a specific rule for the relevant matter” (p. 15). The sentence would be more correct saying “easy to find” rather than “easy to implement”. But the mere fact, for a criterium used by a provision addressing a given issue, to be easy to find does not make this criterium reasonable and reliable when drafting another provision on a different issue.

So, if the point is to avail of default rules proper to answer the question whether or not a particular case falls within the jurisdiction of French courts (so that they may handle the jurisdiction issue even though there is no jurisdiction rule specific to the matter to which that case belongs), it is suggested here that a good approach would have been to listen to scholarly criticism and to assess counterproposals. Unfortunately, space lacks – due to the format of this blog – to develop here on this issue. This quick overview will only express our disappointment that the only other idea mentioned in the Report (and actually used in the Code project), for assertion of jurisdiction by French court where no ground specific to the matter can be found, is about resorting to the “natural judge theory” (doctrine du juge naturel) and consequently sticking to the French citizenship as a default basis for jurisdiction of French courts (see Code project, art. 17, and the Report, p. 16 to 18).

A Few Suggestions

Beside the well-known usual criticism under which citizenship/nationality of one of the litigants falls as a ground of jurisdiction in civil and commercial matters, another remark finds its way here: why did the Report and the Code project give short shrift to other possible solutions?

Extension of Brussels I reg. recast (2012) rules on jurisdiction, especially where the defendant is not domiciled in a EU Member State, could have been explored: there are pros and cons.

How about the forum legis jurisdiction? Comparative private international law shows a tendency for this ground of jurisdiction, formerly unfashionable, to come back to the forefront. EU jurisdiction law shows that providing for jurisdiction of the courts of a given country over a case, where the law of that country is applicable to that case, may well prove satisfactory (Articles 5 to 7 of Regulation No 650/2012 in matters of succession). An article recently published depicted quite clearly the influence, before common law courts, of the idea that, for a court, applicability of the law in force in its forum is a relevant basis for the jurisdiction of that court (R. Garnett, “Determining the Appropriate Forum by the Applicable Law”, [ICLQ vol 71, July 2022 pp 589–626]). Even in France, voices make the case for a better relation between forum and jus in private international law (see, among others, S. Corneloup, « Les liens entre forum et ius : réflexions sur quelques tendances en droit international privé contemporain », in Mélanges B. Ancel, LGDJ/IPROLEX, 2018, p. 461-475). This tendency probably finds its rationale in this idea that where a country claims applicability of its law through its choice-of-law rule, the best way to increase efficiency of this claim is to support it by an additional claim, made by that country through its choice-of-court rules, that its courts have jurisdiction. This jurisdiction should certainly not be exclusive of jurisdiction of the courts of any other country (at least in principle), but making it available to the parties is good for them, in terms of predictability, and good for the country whose law claims to be applicable, in terms of authoritativeness of its law.

Whether this point is decisive is open to debate, but one may expect from a lawmaker that it addresses such an issue when codifying its private international law.

This is the second and final part of a post contributed by Estelle Gallant, regarding the provisions on parentage in the proposed codification of French PIL. The first part can be found here


As explained in the first part of this post, the French draft code of private international law devotes an entire sub-section to parentage. After the presentation of the general choice of law rule related to biological parentage (Article 59), it is proposed to shed light on the two special rules in the same matter (Articles 60 and 61).

As regard the general rule codified in Article 59, the substitution of the national law of the child for the national law of the mother is the most positive contribution of the draft. By contrast, the two special rules of the draft, namely Articles 60 and 61, fall short of expectations, not always providing the expected simplifications or clarifications.

Special Rule on Voluntary Acknowledgement of Children (Article 60)

While innovative in certain respects, Article 60 of the draft Code is – for the most part – a reworking of positive law, resulting from a combination of Article 311-17 of the Civil Code and its interpretation by the courts. Although some of the difficulties pointed out in the literature and not necessarily resolved in the case law have been resolved by the draft, not all have been.

Specifically devoted to the voluntary acknowledgement of a child (i.e. declaration of a person that s/he is the parent of the relevant child), whether paternal or maternal, Article 60 distinguishes between substantive validity and formal validity of the acknowledgement, which is a novelty compared with the current system.

Substantive Validity of Voluntary Acknowledgement

Article 60(1) is innovative since it presents itself as an exception to the general provisions.

The solution of the derogation closes a doctrinal controversy that concerned both the methodological nature of the rule in Article 311-17 of the Civil Code and its scope of application. By making the rule on voluntary acknowledgement a derogation from the general rule, it follows that the general rule is purely and simply put aside as soon as an acknowledgement of a child is concerned. This solution is problematic under the current regime because it contributes to putting aside the law of the mother which may validate voluntary acknowledgement, but it is no longer problematic in the context of the draft: even by derogating from the general rule, the special rule merely offers an additional alternative connecting factor to that contained in the general rule. The derogation thus no longer seems to be contrary to the spirit of favouring the establishment of parentage out of marriage which is the overarching principle of the provisions on voluntary acknowledgement.

The conflict-of-laws rule (Article 60(1)) contains an alternative connecting factor to validate the acknowledgement of a child: the national law of the person making the acknowledgement or the national law of the child on the day of the acknowledgement. This is the same rule as the one currently found in the civil code (Article 311-17). The methodological nature of this rule is unclear: is it a “substance-oriented” choice of law rule, a rule of necessary application, a substantive domestic rule ordering the taking into consideration of foreign laws or perhaps even a rule of recognition of a situation? The drafters of the draft Code have remained deaf to these questions and have reproduced the provision almost identically. This being said, the methodological nature of the text is less important once its scope is clearly established and its implementation clarified.

The draft Code contains (in Article 60(4)) what may again be analysed as a special public policy clause, allowing recourse to French law in cases where neither of the two national laws referred to in Art 60(1) allows the validation of the acknowledgement. The purpose of the provision is to further strengthen the principle of favouring the establishment of parentage by voluntary acknowledgement. The provision is similar to the one that is proposed under Article 59, but the triggering factor is different. In the case of acknowledgement, French law will displace the foreign law that does not allow acknowledgement only in the event that the child is domiciled in France.

Lastly, it is regrettable that the draft code has not cared to define the notion of voluntary acknowledgement of children. Case law has revealed a difficulty of characterisation in situations that would have deserved particular attention, such as the case where the child has a birth certificate mentioning the mother’s name or the father’s name (Civ. 1ère, 28 May 2015, no. 14-18.100). Such cases have been dealt with under Article 311-17 of the Civil Code, whereas such a solution would certainly be worth discussing.

Challenges to Voluntary Acknowledgement

Following on from Article 60(1), Article 60(2) codifies judge made rules accepted since 1999 (Civ. 1ère, 6 July 1999, no. 97-19.453).  Disputes as to the truthfulness of the acknowledgement or to its validity, are subject cumulatively to the national law of the author and the national law of the child on the day of the acknowledgement. While acknowledgement is favoured by alternative connecting factors and the requirement that only one of these laws validates the acknowledgement, challenges to acknowledgements are disfavoured by the requirement that the requirements of two laws are applied cumulatively. Since the solution is not without criticism (in particular, why should preventing a child from destroying a parentage be more protective than the reverse?), it is regrettable that it has not been rethought.

Formal Validity of the Act of Voluntary Acknowledgement.

Article 60(3) provides a rule concerning the conditions of form for validly registering of voluntary acknowledgement of a child.  It adds to the two alternative connecting factors already provided for the substantive conditions of acknowledgement, a third connecting factor involving the law of the State in whose territory the act of acknowledgement is drawn up. This is a traditional solution as regards the form of documents and makes it possible not to penalise excessively for reasons of form a document which would otherwise be valid in substance.

Substantive Rule

As indicated earlier in the commentary on Article 59, Article 60(5) contains a substantive rule specific to conflicts of filiation/parentage and, more specifically, to conflicts of acknowledgements. Based on a chronological principle, the text indicates that “an acknowledgement, as long as it is not annulled, deprives of effect any subsequent acknowledgement of the child in the same line”. It is thus understood that in the presence of two voluntary acknowledgements established in two different States, the first should first be contested in order to be able to rely on the second. The solution is to be approved; it might have deserved to be generalised to all modes of establishment of filiation.

Special Rule on Enjoyment of a Status (Article 61)

Article 61 of the draft code of private international law more or less reproduces the current Article 311-15 of the Civil Code by giving effect to the substantive provisions of domestic law relating to “enjoyment on a status” (possession d’état) a concept specific to French law which draw consequences from the fact that a person raises a child as if s/he was his own. However, two clarifications are made by the draft text.

On the one hand, it limits the scope by referring only to provisions concerning the establishment of filiation (for example, Article 314 of the Civil Code, which allows the restoration of the presumption of paternity of the husband).

On the other hand, it indicates that the provision applies only by way of derogation from the preceding provisions, i.e. both with regard to the general rule and with regard to the special rule on voluntary acknowledgement. The clarification regarding the scope of the exception is interesting, as the solution contradicts that adopted very recently by the Court of Cassation. In a judgment of 23 March 2022, the Court of Cassation ruled that Article 311-15 of the Civil Code constituted a derogation only from Article 311-14 and not from the rule in Article 311-17. In other words, according to this judgment, as soon as Article 311-17 is applicable, it excludes Article 311-15 of the Civil Code.

Even if it has been cleaned up in this way, it is surprising that this provision relating to the French rules on enjoyment of a status has been retained in the draft Code: the complexity of the rule has been denounced many times, its application is extremely rare and its usefulness is unconvincing.

This post, written by Estelle Gallant, who is a Professor at the University of Toulouse Capitole, is the sixth in a series of posts concerning the proposed codification of French Private International Law. It is split into two parts: part one appears below, whereas part two will be published tomorrow. Previous posts relating to the French Draft Code addressed the issues of renvoiforeign law, the recognition of marriages and companies. A German perspective on the draft was also offered here.


The French draft code of private international law devotes an entire sub-section to parentage, comprising five subdivisions (labelled ‘paragraphes’ in French). They distinguish various aspects of international parentage, which is certainly a good initiative: biological parentage, medically assisted parentage with a third-party donor, surrogate motherhood carried out abroad, the effects of parentage and adoption are thus covered by Articles 59 to 70 of the draft code.

Currently, the French Civil Code contains fragmented provisions on biological filiation (Articles 311-14 to 311-17), on the one hand, and adoption, on the other (Articles 370-3 to 370-5). Case law has supplemented these provisions.

The draft Code devotes a first subdivision to biological parentage, containing three articles articulated around a general rule (Article 59 of the draft Code) and two special rules (Articles 60 and 61 of the draft Code). These three provisions are presented by the drafters (see page 35 of the report on the draft code) as a recast of the existing system (see above, Articles 311-14 to 311-17 Civil Code). Indeed, analysis shows that the draft takes up the existing legal structure and system. Only the general rule is really recast, the two special rules being merely reworded and clarified at the margin.

This commentary will briefly present the general rule on biological parentage pursuant to Article 59 of the draft code; the special rules laid down in Articles 60 and 61 will be analysed in a later post. Within the general rule, the replacement of the national law of the mother by the national law of the child is the most positive contribution of the draft (see infra).

By stating that “unless the present Code provides otherwise, the establishment and contesting of parentage” are governed by the national law of the child, the rule in Article 59 is presented as a general  principle. It means that the rule applies in the absence of a special rule.

Scope of Article 59

Article 59(1) of the draft Code refers to “the establishment and contesting of parentage”, whereas the provision currently in force refers to “parentage”. The clarification is useful in that it improves the readability of the provisions.

The text contains an unprecedented clarification as regards the inclusion in the scope of the article of the settlement of conflicts of parentage (Article 59(2)). The solution is marked by a certain logic and has to be combined with the special rule in Article 60. This latter provision is specifically concerned with voluntary acknowledgements of children (ie declaration by a person that he is the parent (typically father) of the child) and will be analysed in a later post.

New Connecting Factor

The current Article 311-14 of the Civil Code, by designating the national law of the mother on the day of the child’s birth to govern his or her filiation, is now the subject of unanimous criticism, in particular for its unequal and unspecific nature. The draft thus seeks to respond to the criticism by designating the child’s national law, a proposal that had been made by scholars as early as 1972. That said, the solution will remain relatively isolated, since in comparative private international law it is the connection to the child’s habitual residence that is generally retained.

Like the current text, the draft provides a solution to the change of nationality (conflit mobile) by fixing the connection to the child’s nationality on the day of birth. The solution is to be approved.

Public Policy Clause

One of the strongest criticisms levelled at the connection to the mother’s nationality was that it had the defect of preventing the establishment of the paternal parentage when the mother was of a personal status prohibiting the establishment of paternal parentage out of marriage, even in the presence of a French defendant or a French child or a child residing in France. Although the public policy exception may have been used by case law to cancel this result, its systematic use in such cases is only recent (Civ. 1ère, 26 October 2011, no. 09-71.369 ; Civ. 1ère,  27 September 2017, no. 16-19.654 ; Civ. 1ère, 16 December 2020, no. 19-20.948).

It may be noted that the draft Code provides for precisely this hypothesis in Article 59(3):

If, by reason of discrimination related to the circumstances of his or her birth, the [applicable] law denies the child the right to establish his or her filiation, French law shall apply, provided that the French courts have jurisdiction under the present Code.

The rule can be analysed as a special public policy clause allowing French law to be substituted for the prohibitive foreign law, if the French courts are seised. The link required between the situation and the territory of the forum for the exception to be triggered is fulfilled if French courts have jurisdiction under French rules of international jurisdiction. Pursuant to Article 34 of the draft Code, the courts with jurisdiction in matters of filiation are those of the place of domicile or habitual residence of the child.

The alignment between the criterion of jurisdiction and the criterion of triggering public policy is interesting and will make it possible, more than in the past, to cover all situations that are likely to trigger the public policy exception, i.e in case of strong proximity to France (e.g. French child or child residing in France, but also, above all, French defendant or defendant residing in France).

Prompted by a kind invitation to participate in the International Weekend  of ABILA (American Branch of the International Law Association, NY, 20-22 October 2022), I took a moment to reflect about past achievements and future challenges for private international law (PIL) in the European Union.

We were three speakers in the panel (Karin Kizer and David W. Rivkin  also took part), introduced and moderated by Ronald A. Brand, Michael S. Coffee and Louise Ellen Teitz. The description of the panel read:

This panel will focus on the institutions, players, and issues that are important in the global development of rules of private international law. The panelists will include a global representation of institutional and practitioner perspectives. The discussion will be built around a set of questions dealing with both current practical issues raised by private international law developments and projections for the future.

We were asked to include arbitration in the presentations.

The assignment proved not easy. I confess I got stuck at the very first stage, i.e., how to define ‘achievements’ and ‘challenges’ in PIL: are they different when the ‘PIL’ under examination is of European source?  I guess the answer is that, indeed, EU instruments and case law (of the Court of Justice) in PIL exist as part of a bigger plan: they serve European integration. By way of consequence, assessing PIL developments requires evaluating whether they promote integration or, on the contrary, act as a hindrance to it.

The next question would then be what ‘integration’ entails, how to measure recent PIL contributions of the EU legislature and of the Court thereto, and what future challenges to integration, posed specifically in the area of judicial cooperation in civil and judicial matters, can be predicted at this stage.

As fascinating as (for instance) the impact on mutual trust of the threats to courts and judges’ independence in some EU countries may be, or whether imposing informational obligations to the Member States creates more transparency or is rather counterproductive, upon reflection a pure ‘European-integration’ approach seemed unfit for the purposes of the ABILA invitation. I gave it up; the topic may still be worth for further thought in another context. Considering the likely (American) audience attending the ILW of ABILA, a walk through the latest developments in EU law and the case law of the Court of Justice looked more appropriate – and already proved too much for the time I had .

From this point of departure, I was happy to report that the political attention to judicial cooperation in civil and commercial matters has not declined in the last years. The legislature has obliged adopting new regulations (Regulation 2016/1103 on matrimonial property regimes; Regulation 2016/1104 on the property consequences of registered partnerships), amending  existing ones (Regulation 2015/2421 amending the Regulations on the small claims and the order for payment procedures), and also recasting some (Regulation 2015/848 on insolvency proceedings; Regulation 2019/1111 on matrimonial matters and matters of parental responsibility; Regulation 2020/1783 on taking of evidence; Regulation 2020/1784 of the European Parliament on service of documents).

Indeed, most of the legislative activity of the last decade in the field of PIL is inward-looking. It focuses on strengthening judicial cooperation in the ‘inner circle’ composed of Member States: the task is far from being complete.

From a purely legal (as opposed to political) standpoint, a little bit more surprising is that in some legal instruments a concern for the EU-citizens is made explicit, even where the rules at hand would apply almost equally to non-EU-rooted claimants or defendants: see recital 1 of Regulation 2019/1111; or recitals 8, 32 or 35 of Regulation 2016/1103.

In comparison, the outward-looking activity of the EU lawmaker remains restricted. That is not to say that it has not progressed, both in quantity (meaning, accession to international conventions on PIL, as well as decisions on acceptance of accession of other countries), and in approach. When adopting new legal acts, in addition to resorting to laconic compatibility clauses, the EU legislature keeps an eye on being consistent with existing international conventions: Regulation 2019/1111 is a proof. A wish for judicial cooperation in civil and commercial matters appears in (some) agreements of a general scope, such as the Framework Agreement between the European Union and its member States, of the one part, and Australia, of the other part, in force since 22 October 2022: see its Article 32, comprising a specific mention to facilitating and encouraging the arbitral resolution of international civil and private commercial disputes.

That attention has been given to the civil prong of the European area of justice must be taken as good news.

Visiting the EU Parliament Legislative Train Schedule, the future looks not so promising. And yet there is much to do. There is definitely no PIL legislative overproduction in the Union; however, already with what exist it is easy to get lost.

One of the greatest difficulties in presenting European PIL as a true system to a third-State audience derives from the asymmetries of the instruments as regards geographical scope. The fact that there are several ‘Europes’ in Europe does not only impact on the practical manageability of the rules; it also jeopardizes declared valuable objectives, such as the concentration of closely related claims before the courts of a single Member State. This puzzling situation resulting from a variety of political motives affects above all family matters (in a large sense), but not only. The state of affairs is not likely to change any soon. For the future, the lawmaker should at least take care of making it visible. Sometimes he already does: because of the particular position of Denmark, Article 122, para 3, of the 2017 EU Trademark Regulation clarifies that reference to the Brussels regulation shall include, where appropriate, the Agreement between the European Community and the Kingdom of Denmark. Sometimes he does not: a provision similar to the one just referred to is missing in the GDPR.

Moving to the rules themselves, the newest ones on jurisdiction show an increasing degree of sophistication.

To ABILA I mentioned, by way of example, the provisions allowing for the limitation of proceedings (ad. ex., Article 13 of Regulation 2016/1103), which I see as a ‘distant cousin’ of the forum non conveniens doctrine. I also described the EU fora as being predictable, an assertion which was met with some skepticism in the panel. It is understandable. On paper, all grounds for jurisdiction in the European instruments obey to typical values (certainty, proximity) and reflect the outcome of balances (between the right of access to court of the claimant, and the right to a due process of defendant, with the necessary bias to protect one of the parties or to promote a particular substantive policy, as the case may be). In practice, reality beats the imagination of the legislator and puts the system continuously to a test.

Faced with a problem common to all legal systems, what still makes the European Union unique is the preliminary ruling mechanism (beyond the rightness or wrongfulness of the rulings: the Court can’t please everyone). Its very existence opens up the possibility of reacting to changes uniformly and in a relative short time. When requested by a national jurisdiction, no matter whether first instance, first or second appeal, the Court of Justice’s intervention to adjust the written rules or to shed light on their limits is not a choice – no certiorari.

In civil and commercial matters, the prototypical example of a need for constant adaptation are torts in the internet. Strings of requests for preliminary rulings get to Luxembourg based on variations of very similar facts, pushing the task of the Court of Justice to the verge of the distinction between interpretation and application of the European rules (see C-172/18, AMS Neve, and C-104/22, Lännen, as an example). That the workload of the Court does not decrease, but just the opposite, is to me a sign of trust and of good health of the system, thus an achievement.

In the area of enforcement there is much pending. The big European accomplishments in the last years remain confined to the free movement of titles from and to Member States. The (partial) abolition of exequatur, the possibility to ask for a European account preservation order, the availability of certificates and standards forms to  ease and speed the application for enforcement in a country other than that of delivery of the judgement… benefit Member States’ decisions.

Creditors should be aware that the recent ruling of the Court of Justice in C-568/20, H Limited, does not open wide a door to titles from third States. In my reading of the Court’s decision (which may be wrong), the Brussels I bis Regulation is still limited to the recognition and enforcement in a Member State of decisions of other Member States. It applies, after a foreign judgement has been recognized, to the steps following said recognition, such as an order for payment (if adopted in full compliance with the conditions set forth in the EU regime). The entry into force of the 2019 Hague Convention, when it takes place, will ease the enforcement of non-European titles only to some extent. No doubt there is room for improvement.

Finally, there was, of course, arbitration. In the panel, the discussion revolved around arbitration in the aftermath of the Achmea (C-284/16) and Komstroy (C-741/19) rulings.

I fail to see a difference for commercial arbitration in the pre- and post-Achmea scenarios (in this line, para 54 of C-284/16, resumed in C-741/19): at least, in theory. In any event, decisions such as C-700/20, London Steam-Ship Owners’ Mutual Insurance Association and earlier ones indicate that the main game is played elsewhere.

Among the many doctrinal suggestions for the recast of the Brussels I bis Regulation some focus on arbitration. Personally, I doubt the Commission wants to engage once again in the debate. Whatever the outcome of the ongoing revision of the Regulation, I presume Article 73, para 2, will remain. If this is so, a general line of reasoning of the Court regarding compatibility clauses is worth recalling: said clauses ‘cannot have a purport that conflicts with the principles underlying the legislation of which [they are] part’ (C‑533/08, TNT Express Nederland, at 51, and C- 452/12, Nipponkoa, at 37, on the relationship of the Brussels regime and the Convention on the Contract for the International Carriage of Goods by Road (CMR)). Difficult to imagine that Article 73 could constitute an exception in this regard, or the reasons why.

I did not have the time to present these thoughts in detail, nor other reflections regarding, among other, conflict of law rules. In exchange, I had the pleasure to listen to my two co-panelists on developments in the US and, quite intensively, in the already mentioned concerns of the arbitration world. A summary by S. Labi can be found in Oil-Gas-Energy-Mining-Infrastructure Dispute Management (OGEMID).

Private international lawyers and the ECJ are bound by a love-hate relationship: one single judgment delivered by the latter may sometimes give rise to a fully-fledged conference where, at the end of a lively discussions, the former express harsh criticisms, tepid approval or high praise towards the solution shaped by the Luxembourg Court. But while PIL scholars usually tend to dissect every substantive aspect of the Court’s ruling, little attention is usually paid to the ‘procedural’ context in which such decision has been reached. I admit that, before coming to Luxembourg, I myself took little notice of details such as the existence (or lack of) an AG’s Opinion, the reporting judge assigned to the case or the judicial formation having rendered the decision. However, these arguably are important indicators of the way in which a question concerning EUPIL is treated – both procedurally and substantively – by the Luxembourg Court.

Against this backdrop, it could be interesting, if not useful, to take a broader look at the relationship between the ECJ and EUPIL, going beyond the individual judgment and aimed at assessing preliminary rulings on this subject as a systemic phenomenon. The purpose of this analysis is twofold.

Firstly, it serves to disprove the belief – still held dear by some scholars – that PIL issues are ‘merely technical’ in nature. In fact, these are seldom treated as such in Luxembourg, as evidenced by the overwhelming majority of cases assigned to Chambers of five rather than to a Chamber of three. Moreover, since an Opinion of the AG is delivered in more than half of PIL cases, these often raise ‘new questions of law’, in the sense of Article 20 of the ECJ’s Statute. This finding holds true also with respect to instruments – such as the Brussels Regulations – that are of long-standing application in national courts and frequently interpreted in Luxembourg, thus confirming that, in PIL cases, facts and legal rules tend to combine in ever-changing constellations of interactions.

Secondly, the discussion may be useful in view of eventual future reforms of the ECJ’s internal structure and/or working methods. This Institution is presently coming under growing pressure owing to the ever-increasing number of cases introduced before it on a yearly basis. In 2021, this rise was deemed ‘significant’ and affected mostly the Court of Justice (see the Report ‘Year in Review’, p. 28). The reasons behind this surge of cases are, on the one hand, an increase in the appeals brought against rulings of the General Court (ibid, p. 28) and, on the other hand, the ever-growing number of preliminary references filed by national courts (in 2021, they accounted for the largest share (68%) of new cases brought before the Court: Management Report 2021, p. 6). According to President Lenaerts, the Court is currently engaged in ‘a reflection on how to achieve a rebalancing of the workload between the Court of Justice, composed of one judge per Member State, and the General Court, which, since September, has two judges per Member State’ (Report ‘Year in Review’, p. 5). Since the Court has already tackled – at least partially – the ‘appeals problem’ by introducing a filtering mechanism, this further ‘rebalancing’ might include, in theory, the transfer to the latter of some of the functions currently performed by the former, such has the delivery of preliminary rulings, following a sectoral approach limited to certain subject-matters. The question (purely hypothetical at present) as to whether – and to what extent – the field of civil cooperation in civil matters should be touched by this eventual ‘rebalancing’ should be addressed based on said systemic analysis of the relationship between the ECJ and EUPIL. Its aim is to identify trends – if any – in the adjudication of these cases and to decipher their meaning.

Methodology

The two objectives stated above can be best served with the assistance of empirical legal research. To my knowledge, there is no existing data (institutional or otherwise) that specifically concerns PIL cases brought before the ECJ. The Charts appearing in the following sections are therefore drawn from a repository of cases I compiled myself based on the information which is publicly available on EUR-LEX and Curia, or was made public at the hearing. This repository puts together the requests for preliminary rulings filed and/or decided with respect to EUPIL instruments from January 2015 to August 2022.

For the purposes of this research, ‘EUPIL’ is understood as encompassing the Brussels-Lugano Regime (Regulations 44/2001 and 1215/2012 as well as the Lugano II Convention), the Brussels II Regime (limited to Regulation 2201/2003, since there are presently no cases on Brussels II-ter), the Rome Regulations (593/2008, 864/2007 and 1259/2010); the Succession Regulation and the ‘smaller’ Regulations (EAPO, EPO, EEO, ESC, Service and Evidence I Regulations). The Regulations on matrimonial and registered partnership property issues have been taken into account, but there is currently no request for interpretation concerning them.

The selected time-frame (2015-2022) has been identified based on the (debatable) assumption that the last 7 years could provide for ‘meaningful’ empirical evidence concerning the application of all the above mentioned instruments, including the eldest, the Brussels I Regulation (which still applies to legal proceedings instituted, to authentic instruments formally drawn up or registered and to court settlements approved or concluded until 9 January 2015).

The numerical labels appearing in the Charts refer not to the number of cases filed with the ECJ, but to the number of preliminary references raised with respect to each instrument (e.g. if one case raised questions concerning two different EUPIL instruments, it was counted twice).

General Overview

Overall, there are 245 preliminary references concerning EUPIL instruments in the selected timeframe. Unsurprisingly, the Brussels-Lugano regime accounts, alone, for more than 50% of the total references submitted to the ECJ, followed by Reg. 2201/2003 as a far second (12 %). The Rome Regulations, taken together, make up for another 12 % of the total cases.

A closer look at the geographical origin of the preliminary references confirms that EUPIL preliminary references are not equally distributed across the Member States.

National courts in Germany and Austria have indisputably acquired a leading role as triggers of EUPIL case law and of its evolution over the past 7 years. Rather surprising is the data concerning Luxembourg, where the ‘cross-border dimension’ of cases is almost a daily occurrence. This suggests that there is no necessary correlation between the application rate of EUPIL instruments and the number of preliminary references submitted to the ECJ.

Opinions of the AG and Judicial Formations.

Data from the last seven years shows that a generous majority of EUPIL cases commands an Opinion of the AG. The percentages shown in Chart 5, below, are based on aggregated data concerning all EUPIL instruments, as defined above sub A.

In actual truth, there are perceivable sectoral variations, across the several instruments, with this percentage hovering between a maximum rate of 80 % in the Succession Regulation to a minimum of 33% under the EEO Regulation (except, of course, for the 0% rate that characterizes the Evidence and the ESC Regulations). The Charts below give a good idea of such sectoral variations.

Another good indicator of the relative ‘weight’ of EUPIL cases (and of the importance of the legal questions raised therein) is the number of preliminary references that, owing to their difficulty, their importance for Union Law or the particular circumstances surrounding them, are assigned to the Grand Chamber (cf Article 60 of the Rules of Procedure of the Court).

In this respect, it is apparent from the Charts below that the field of EUPIL is characterized by a relatively low number of Grand Chamber cases (6 cases in total over the last 7 years, ie 3 %). As a reminder, these Grand Chamber cases are:

The vast majority of cases remains assigned to Chambers of five, which is the ordinary formation of the Court. Chambers of three, which are reserved to cases that are either highly technical in nature or of straightforward solution, are less frequent in EUPIL, accounting for around one quarter of the total cases. These are relatively more common under the Brussels I and Ibis Regulation, possibly because of the existence of a long-standing and well-developed body of case law that may better contribute to the straightforward solution of the case.

Interestingly, there is a certain number of cases assigned to a Chamber of three but decided with the support of an AG Opinion. This may, at first (and only at first), seem like a contradiction in terms. As mentioned above, the Opinion of the AG should, in principle, be delivered solely in cases that raise ‘new questions of law’. In practice, however, it is apparent that Opinions have been asked under other circumstances, presumably to help the drafting of the future judgment, or because different approaches to the solution of a case could easily be envisioned. Hence, it is not inconceivable that a case may be, at once, highly technical in nature – thus justifying the deferral to a Chamber of three – and open to different alternative solutions, calling therefore for the advisory assistance of the AG (as it was the case in C-214/17, where AG Szpunar explicitly evokes the doubts expressed by the referring court concerning two alternative approaches to the solution of the question raised, §21-23). Similarly, a case can present a question which is at the same time highly technical in nature, but ‘novel’ in the sense of Article 20 of the Statute, as it might have been the case in C-555/18, concerning the weight to be attached to the requirement of enforceability for the purposes of the uniform definition of ‘authentic instrument’ under the EAPO Regulation (there was, in that case, a target Opinion by AG Szpunar).

The Form of the Decision

Another and more significant pointer to the ‘novelty’ of the legal questions raised by EUPIL cases is the form taken by the decision finally delivered by the ECJ.

It should be reminded that the ECJ usually rules through judgments (arrêts, in French), but it can exceptionally adopt a ‘reasoned order’ where (a) a question referred to the Court for a preliminary ruling is identical to a question on which the Court has already ruled ; or (b) where the reply to such a question may be clearly deduced from existing case-law ; or (c) where the answer to the question referred for a preliminary ruling admits of no reasonable doubt (Article 99 of the Rules of Procedure). Moreover, where it is clear that the Court has no jurisdiction to hear and determine a case or where a request or an application is manifestly inadmissible, the Court can decide to give a decision by reasoned order without taking further steps in the proceedings (Article 53 (2) Rules of Procedure).

Against this backdrop, the more surprising result is not so much the high number of judgments delivered in EUPIL matters, but rather the extremely low number of Article 99 Orders, even more so with respect to the Brussels I Regulation, which has by now undergone almost two decades of application and interpretations by the Luxembourg Court, and could itself profit from the interpretive rulings previously rendered under the 1968 Brussels Convention according to the 1971 Protocol.

Considering the high recurrence rate of questions concerning the interpretation of certain specific provisions of the Brussels Regulations, such as those dealing with the heads of jurisdiction in contractual matters and torts, consumer contracts and exclusive or prorogated jurisdiction, the low number of Article 99 Orders means, in practice, that the application of such provisions to concrete facts continues to give rise to new scenarios, with respect to which existing case law provides for an answer that is either partial, incomplete or open to further interpretation.

Informal Specialization

The final aspect considered by this empirical research relates to the (only apparent) lack of internal specialization within the ECJ, in the sense that this Institution is not formally divided into Chambers dedicated to specific subject-matters. Each of the Chambers of the Court, whatever the judicial formation, can in fact hear cases relating to any matter that falls within the jurisdiction thereof. Considering the wide scope of EU law and in the light of the current challenges brought by the inflating number of new cases, this lack of specialization of the Court’s Chambers could be seen as a hindrance to the Institution’s efficiency. Again, this conclusion must be nuanced, if not completely set aside, based on the analysis of the Court’s case law. Despite the lack of institutional specialized Chambers, the Court has developed an internal system for the allocation of cases among reporting judges and AGs which favours, at once, informal specialization and flexibility. Concerning the latter, the internal allocation of cases must be flexible enough to accommodate the contingent organizational needs of an Institution of such size, such as, for example, the need of ensuring an equal distribution of cases and expedited treatment of PPU cases or of avoiding national or other kinds of bias. Concerning specialization, existing case law clearly shows that certain judges and AGs that have been consistently entrusted, over the time, with EUPIL cases.

(***Note of the Author: data about Reporting Judges are incomplete, as this information is not disclosed with respect to cases that have been withdrawn and removed from the register. The Order of the President only mentions the designated AG***)

Obviously, this is not to say that the final decision on the case will reflect exclusively or even predominantly the individual views of these judges. Rather, this decision will always be the result of the collective will emerged from the discussion within the Chamber (of five or of three judges). This informal specialization of the Reporting Judge and of the AGs ensures nonetheless the efficient working of the Institution at the initial stage of the proceedings, concerned with the preliminary analysis of the case geared towards the identification of the appropriate judicial formation and of other procedural needs (eg. the need for further written clarifications or for an oral hearing). It could also favour, over time, a certain consistency in the (procedural and substantive) approach adopted with respect to recurrent issues, thus enhancing the overall coherence of the Court’s case law in EUPIL.

This post was contributed by Thomas Mastrullo, who is an Associate Professor of Commercial Law at the University  of Luxembourg. It is the fifth in a series of posts on the French draft code of private international law of March 2022 (the previous posts in the series gave a German perspective and discussed the issues of renvoiforeign law and the recognition of marriages celebrated abroad). 


Background

Title II of Book II of the French Draft Code of Private International Law is devoted to legal persons.

This Title II is divided into two chapters which deal with two major questions of international company law: the first chapter pertains to the recognition of companies (Art. 85), while the second chapter concerns the conflict-of-law rule in corporate matters, through the determination (Art. 86) and the scope (Art. 87) of lex societatis.

By the rules it proposes, the French Draft PIL Code undoubtedly promotes the modernization of French international company law.

Recognition of Companies (Article 85)

Article 85 of the French Draft PIL Code lays down the principle of recognition in France of the legal personality of companies formed in accordance with the law of a foreign State.

The proposed article 85 reads :

L’existence et les effets de la personnalité morale ou de la capacité juridique des sociétés dont le siège statutaire est situé hors du territoire français et qui ont été régulièrement immatriculées sur un registre public d’un État étranger sont reconnus de plein droit sous réserve de la fraude aux droits des tiers.

The Draft PIL Code thus adopts the liberal theory of incorporation with regard to the recognition of foreign companies: as soon as a company is validly incorporated in a foreign State, where by hypothesis it has fixed its statutory seat or registered office, it must be recognised in French territory.

Such a rule “codifies” the traditional position of French law on this subject. Indeed, since the 19th century, it has been accepted in French law that “la régularité de la constitution selon la loi de l’État d’immatriculation est suffisante pour que la société soit reconnue en France” (M. Menjucq, Droit international et européen des sociétés, LGDJ, “Précis Domat”, 6th ed., no. 58), as long as it is established that the company enjoys legal personality in its State of incorporation (See CA Paris, 30 Apr. 1997, BJS 1997, p. 778, note M. Menjucq). Moreover, the solution adopted by the Draft is in line with the jurisprudence of the CJEU, and in particular with Überseering judgment (see here) according to which:

the refusal by a host Member State to recognize the legal capacity of a company formed in accordance with the law of another Member State in which it has its registered office (…) constitutes a restriction on freedom of establishment” and, even worst, an “outright negation of the freedom of establishment.

Beyond these general remarks, three points on the text may be underlined.

Firstly, recognition relates to the “existence and effects” of legal personality. This expression refers to the French doctrinal position which defines recognition as “l’admission sur le territoire nationale de l’existence et des effets d’une personne juridique (physique ou morale) étrangère” (L. Lévy, La nationalité des sociétés, LGDJ, 1984, p. 51). This definition gives precedence to the fiction theory of legal personality, considering that, whatever personality a company enjoys abroad, it is not imposed on the State of recognition, which remains free to decide on its existence. We know that other authors, inspired by the reality theory, define recognition more strictly as “l’autorisation accordée par l’État à la société d’exercer une activité sur son sol” (P. Mayer et V. Heuzé, Droit international privé, LGDJ, « Précis Domat », 11th ed., no. 1106 et s.). The approach adopted by the Draft has the merit of grasping the whole issue of recognition in corporate matters: the recognition of the existence of a foreign company as a legal person logically implies the recognition of the effects resulting from this personality… And it is difficult to imagine that a foreign company whose existence is recognised in a State could be outright refused authorization to carry on its business there.

Secondly, the Draft PIL Code pertains to the recognition of the companies’ “legal personality” but also of the companies’ “legal capacity”. A simple legal capacity granted in the foreign State of incorporation is therefore sufficient to recognize a company’s legal personality in France. Indeed, the condition that the company must have legal personality in its State of incorporation in order to be recognized in France is interpreted broadly. Even if it does not have legal personality in its State of incorporation, a company which enjoys a capacity equivalent to that conferred on companies which have legal personality in France may be recognized as a legal person on French territory, as was decided in the case of a German Offene Handelsgesellschaft (see CA Versailles, 14 janv. 1999, BJS 1999, § 97, p. 466, note M. Menjucq).

Thirdly, the Draft PIL Code provides that recognition can be rejected in case of fraud against the right of third parties. This could be the hypothesis of a letter-box company without any effective connection to the State in which it has its statutory seat or registered office. This international company law’s classic limitation is to be welcomed, especially as it is compatible with EU law. Indeed, it follows in particular from the Inspire Art (see here) and Polbud (see here) CJEU’s judgements that fraud against the rights of third parties may constitute a limit on the companies’ freedom of establishment, provided that such fraud is assessed on a case-by-case basis and in a punitive manner (see Th. Mastrullo in Traité de droit du commerce international, M. Menjucq et J. Béguin (dir.), LexisNexis, 3rd ed., no 711). Obviously, the characterisation of fraud will always be based on an assessment of the facts of the case.

Determination of the lex societatis (Article 86)

The French Draft Code of Private International Law adopts the theory of incorporation and the criterion of the statutory seat or registered office as a connecting factor for determining the lex societatis.

The proposed Article 86 reads :

Les sociétés immatriculées au registre du commerce et des sociétés au titre de leur siège statutaire sont soumises aux dispositions de la loi française.

Les sociétés dont le siège statutaire est situé hors du territoire français sont soumises aux dispositions du droit des sociétés de l’État dans lequel elles sont immatriculées dans un registre public ou, à défaut d’immatriculation, de l’État où est situé le siège statutaire.

The first paragraph uses the unilateralist method, and states the French law’s will to be applicable to companies whose statutory seat or registered office is in France, while the second paragraph contains a bilateral conflict-of-laws rule according to which, when its statutory seat is not in France, the company is ruled by the law of the State where it is incorporated or has its statutory seat.

As the Legal High Committee for Financial Markets of Paris (“Haut Comité juridique de la Place Financière de Paris” – HCJP) which has published a report on the applicable law to companies  (Rapport sur le rattachement des sociétés – see here) on 31 March 2021, the French Draft PIL Code adopts a liberal approach of companies’ connecting factor.

Several arguments may be advanced in support of this proposition.

Firstly, the connecting factor relying the statutory seat or registered office is simpler and, as a consequence, more favorable to legal certainty. Indeed, on the one hand, it eliminates the touchy question of the place of the real seat and, on the other hand, it guarantees respect for the operators’ choice of the law to rule their company. Thus, this connecting factor might reinforce France’s attractiveness. Secondly, the solution is inspired by the comparative private international law which reveals a strong tendency towards the generalization of the incorporation theory or connecting criterion by the statutory seat or registered office. In Belgium, for instance, the connecting criterion by the real seat, which had prevailed since 1873, has been abandoned by the law of 23 March 2019 in favour of the connecting criterion by the statutory seat, the new Article 110 of the Belgian Code of Private International Law now providing that « La personne morale est régie par le droit de l’État où se situe son siège statutaire ». Thirdly, the solution is more suited to the development of EU law which, through the jurisprudence of the CJEU – and in particular the Centros (see here), Überseering (see here), Inspire Art (see here), and Polbud (see here) judgments – and some regulations – such as European Regulation n° 2157/2001 on SE (see here) or Directive (UE) 2019/2121 amending Directive (EU) 2017/1132 as regards cross-border conversions, mergers and divisions (see here), tends to promote the statutory seat or registered office as a connecting factor.

It is regrettable that the proposed Article 86 does not provide for the limit of fraud against the rights of third parties, as it is expressly provided for in relation to recognition. One can think, however, that the limit of fraud could be implemented in order to apply the law of the real seat instead of the law of the statutory seat, either on the basis of Article 85, which rejects the recognition of legal personality’s “effects” in case of fraud against the right of third parties (lex societatis may be considered as one of these “effects”), or on the basis of common private international law, knowing that such a limit is envisaged by European case law (see already above).

Scope of the lex societatis (Article 87)

Article 87 of the French Draft Code of Private International Law is dedicated to the scope of application of the lex societatis. The inspiration of this text can be found in Swiss law. The aim is to increase the readability and, as a result, the attractiveness of French law. A list of elements falling within the scope of lex societatis is drawn, this list being non-exhaustive as suggested by the use of the French adverb “notamment” (which can be translated by “in particular”).The list of elements falling within the scope of the lex societatis is not surprising and, mostly, “codifies” the French doctrinal positions and case law’s solutions.For example, the assertion that the lex societatis determines the acquisition and loss of the status of shareholder takes up the solution of the famous Royal Dutch judgment of 17 October 1972 (see here), in the same way that the Africatours judgment of 1st July 1997 admitted the application of the lex societatis with regard to the liability of managers towards third parties (see here).

In conclusion, the project seems relevant to meet the challenges created by the development of freedom of establishment in the European Union and to strengthen the competitiveness of French company law.

The author of this post is Lydia Lundstedt, who is a Senior Lecturer at the Stockholm University.


In IRnova (C-399/21), decided on 8 September 2022, the CJEU clarified the interpretation of Article 24(4) of the Brussels I bis Regulation. The latter provision confers exclusive jurisdiction “in proceedings concerned with the registration or validity of patents, trade marks, designs, or other similar rights required to be deposited or registered” upon “the courts of the Member State in which the deposit or registration has been applied for, has taken place or is under the terms of an instrument of the Union or an international convention deemed to have taken place”.

In its judgment, the Court ruled that Article 24(4) is to be interpreted as not applying to a dispute, in the context of an action based on an alleged status of inventor or co-inventor, concerning the determination of whether a person is entitled to certain inventions referred to in patent applications filed and patents granted in third countries.

I reported on the facts and the question referred here but a brief synopsis follows.

The Swedish company IRnova AB brought proceedings before the Swedish Patent and Market Court against the Swedish company FLIR Systems AB for a declaration that it was entitled to inventions referred to in certain European, US and Chinese patent applications and certain US patents on the ground that its employee was the true inventor (or co-inventor).

The Patent and Market Court dismissed the part of IRnova’s action concerning the patent applications filed in the US and China and the patent granted in the US. Incidentally, the court retained jurisdiction over the European applications which are governed by the lex specialis rules in the Protocol on Jurisdiction and the Recognition of Decisions in respect of the Right to the Grant of a European Patent.

IRnova AB appealed to the Patent and Market Court of Appeal, which asked the CJEU whether Article 24(4) could be applied to these types of entitlement disputes concerning patents registered and applied for in non-Member States.

The CJEU began by slightly reformulating the referring court’s question to refer to applications filed and patents granted in third States as opposed to non-Member States (paras 22-24). Thereafter, the CJEU established that the dispute had international character and therefore fell within the scope of the BIa Regulation (paras 25-31). Referring to its decision Owusu, C-281/02, the CJEU observed that international character may be based on the subject-matter of the dispute (here the patent applications and the patents) being connected to a third State.

Thereafter, the CJEU answered the question whether Article 24(4) applied to a situation such as the one in the Swedish proceedings. First, the CJEU observed that it follows from the wording of Article 24(4) that it concerns the courts of a Member State of registration and therefore the provision was not applicable to patents applied for and registered in third States (paras 32-35).

Second, the CJEU held that entitlement disputes, including those based on inventorship, are not “concerned with the registration or validity of patents” in the meaning of Article 24(4) (paras 36-49). In this regard, the CJEU recalled that the concept was autonomous and that it must not be given a wider interpretation than is required by its objective (paras 38-39).

The CJEU also recalled its case law in Duijnstee, 288/82 , GAT, C-4/03, and Hanssen Beleggingen, C-341/16 where it held that the rule on exclusive jurisdiction in what is now Article 24(4) is justified by the fact that the courts of the Member State where the patents are applied for or registered are best placed to adjudicate upon cases in which the dispute itself concerns the validity or lapse of a patent, the existence of the deposit or registration or an alleged right of priority by reason of an earlier deposit. It recalled further that an action which merely raises the question of who is the owner of a patent or whether a person has been correctly registered as the owner of a trade mark is not covered by that rule of exclusive jurisdiction because such questions are not closely linked in fact and law to the place where the right has been registered (paras 36-41).

The CJEU stated that the dispute in the Swedish proceedings did not concern these questions but only the question concerning the right to the inventions or to a part of them (para 42).

In this regard, the Court observed first that the question of who owns the inventions, which includes the question of who is the inventor, does not concern the application for an intellectual property right or the right as such, but the object of the right. The CJEU referred to its earlier case law on the justification for Article 24(4) and concluded that it was relevant in a case such as the one in the Swedish proceedings where the question relates only to the entitlement to object of the right, i.e. the invention (para 43).

Thereafter, the CJEU noted that the question of who is the inventor, which the CJEU noted was the sole issue in the Swedish proceedings, is a preliminary question and therefore distinct from that of whether a patent application has been filed or a patent granted. In addition, the CJEU stated that the dispute did not concern the validity an application, but seeks only to establish the right to the inventions themselves. The CJEU stated that the fact that a lack of entitlement to an invention may constitute a ground for refusal of the application is therefore not relevant to the jurisdiction to hear disputes concerning inventorship (paras 44-45).

Lastly, the CJEU stated that the preliminary question of who is an inventor is also distinct from that of the validity of the patent and that latter question was not part of the case in the Swedish proceedings.

The CJEU added that even if the national court was required to examine the claims in the patent applications or patents to determine each employee’s contribution to the invention, this examination does not concern the patentability of the invention.

The CJEU further added that infringement actions also require an in-depth assessment of the protection afforded under the law of the protecting country but that it had previously held that such actions were not covered by the rule on exclusive jurisdiction (paras 46-48).

In my opinion, the CJEU comes to a sensible outcome – the parties should not need to pursue duplicative proceedings in every granting third State with risk that inventorship is decided differently in different states.

The question of inventorship is not closely linked in fact to the state where the patent was applied for or granted as the relevant facts will have taken place where the invention was made, which in this case was most likely in Sweden. Although there is proximity in law to the State where the patent was applied for or granted (the CJEU noted that the Swedish court will likely need to apply US and Chinese law), inventorship disputes are mostly factual disputes concerning who actually came up with the inventive idea, and not the legal value of the parties’ contributions.

If IRnova succeeds with its case on the merits, an interesting question is how it will get the judgment enforced. It can use the Swedish judgment in support of a request before the US and Chinese authorities to persuade them to correct the applicant or owner. An interesting question is whether IRnova can request the Swedish court to order FLIR Systems to transfer the patent applications and patents to it.

Lastly, the decision has significant implications so it is surprising that the CJEU did not obtain a written opinion from the Advocate General. Indeed, the CJEU dealt with the question whether Article 24(4) applies to third States in a rather summary fashion.

The question whether Article 24 in general can be given reflexive effect either as a matter of EU law or national law has been hotly debated in the legal doctrine so I would have expected more than a textual argument to support the CJEU’s conclusion.

This post was authored by François Mailhé, who is Professor of Private Law at the University of Picardie Jules Verne. It is the fourth in a series of posts regarding the ruling of the European Court of Justice, of 20 June 2022, in the case of London Steam-Ship Owners’ Mutual Assistance Association Ltd v Spain. The first post was contributed by Adrian Briggs, the second one by Gilles Cuniberti, and the third one by Antonio Leandro.


Much has already been said on this case and this post does not contend to address all the issues both dealt with and raised by the decision.

Rather, I would like to submit, as a summer food for thought, a topical methodological problem exampled by this decision after several others: that of the bias tending to analyse all problems through the articles of the Regulation at stake. More precisely, I would suggest Brussels I as a whole shouldn’t have been applied in that case and that the reason for those opposite findings by the ECJ can also be explained because it preferred interpreting article 34 rather than the scope of the Regulation as a whole.

It all starts with what I contend to be a poorly presented prejudicial question. It did ask whether, first, the English decision at stake was a “judgment” preventing recognition of the Spanish decision under Article 34 of Brussels I, second if it may be such even if it was taken in accordance with the Arbitration Act 1996. The question therefore focused on Article 34 and, by doing so, begged for the answer.

Indeed, if one looks at the issue through Article 34 and the notion of irreconcilability, then the Hoffmann case, on Article 34’s ancestor, Article 27 Brussels Convention, is the relevant case-law. In that decision, the ECJ held that a decision on the status of a natural person, a matter outside the scope of the Convention, could still be considered from Article 27 perspective as long as it “entailed legal consequences which were mutually exclusive” with the other judgment. It was a very pragmatic decision, allowing to solve the conflict between Article 27 (that solved the problem) and Article 1 (on the scope of the Convention). It allowed to disregard the subject-matter of the judgment if it may have consequences in the field of what was the Brussels convention at the time. Disregarding the arbitration exclusion was, therefore, an obvious choice considering the phrasing of the question.

What is more, asking whether Article 34 could be applied even if the judgment had a specificity under national law (the Arbitration Act 1996) was also a good way to get a specific answer. National specificities are obviously irrelevant.

What was relevant, though, was the topic of this national act: arbitration. There lied the problem.

Article 1(2) had been forgotten in the question and bypassed too quickly by the Court in its answer, who considered the problem was identical to that in Hoffmann. But what worked for 1(2)(a) was not adapted to all other exclusions of Article 1(2). Relevant for a conflict of substance (status of natural persons, succession and wills, etc.) since its solution eventually only considers substance (that of the consequences of those conflicting decisions), it is hardly adapted to procedural exceptions. Arbitral awards, and therefore decisions about them, intervene almost by essence on contractual and liability matters, all matters dealt with by the Regulation. Most often, the final decision will be about such remedies as liability and damages, or avoidance of a contract. How may such a decision not be conflicting with other judicial decisions between the same parties and matters?

The problem of arbitration is that it is not a different matter, hence no different decisions, but a different procedure. Using an analysis of the substance of any final award and an associated judgment therefore amounts to strip the arbitral aspect of the litigation and to deprive the exclusion clause of article 1(2)(d) of the Regulation of any effet utile. One may just have to compare with what could have been the reasoning with a judgment pronounced within the scope of the Insolvency Regulation recast. There again, comparing the substance of the decisions would have revealed a potential conflict between mutually exclusive legal consequences, and therefore, according to that line of reasoning, the exclusion of the Insolvency Regulation…

Falling back on Article 34 and the Hoffmann decision was therefore too simple a way to bypass the arbitration issue. In the conflict between the problem to solve and the scope of the Regulation, the latter is obviously to be addressed first. Indeed, there is no real conflict: there was no question, once Brussels I would have been declared applicable, that the issue would have to be solved by Article 34… The question of the scope of a Regulation arises first since its rules only play within its limits. And the London Steam-Ship case shows how such a line of reasoning is not only an issue of logic, but also of policy. The policy issue, indeed, was not the narrow interplay between two such decisions, but rather the scope of the arbitration exclusion in Brussels I, an issue that has not always been clearly addressed. This issue of the limits of the Regulation itself should have been at the core of the prejudicial question, not the conditions of Article 34 facing a specific judgment.

It is not the first time such a narrow analysis is at play, though. One may remember, for example, the Owusu decision. Where, in that decision, the question was whether or not forum non conveniens was compatible with the Convention, the Court went in depth as to the “imperative” nature of the sole Article 2 of the Convention to reject it. This method prevented the Court to pose a principle of exclusion of forum non conveniens within the scope of the Brussels Convention itself, a solution far simpler (and more efficient) than interpreting its Article 2, which was not answering that problem at all. Indeed, resorting to specific articles of the Regulation, silent on new issues, often leads to just ignoring them.

I do not know whether, at least in this London Steam-Ship case, the Court was perfectly aware of this methodological choice. But it is that of a young Court, applying a young law. A French author cannot but think of the exegetic school of French law that endured in case-law for decades after the Code civil was enacted, restricting itself to the strict meaning of its articles even when new issues arose. This is what the ECJ did, here again, by preferring to interpret the technical rule rather than trying a systemic analysis.

The Court has found maturity in other branches of European law, displaying much subtility and a much wider vision to address complex issues. Private international law, as this other branch of law harmonising relations between member State laws, could benefit from such a change in perspective.

This post was written by Stefan Leible and Felix M. Wilke (both University of Bayreuth). It is the fourth in a series of posts on the French draft code of private international law of March 2022 (the previous posts in the series discussed the issues of renvoiforeign law and the recognition of marriages celebrated abroad). It is based on an article by the authors (in French) forthcoming in the Revue critique de droit international privé. The English manuscript of that article can be found here.


The outlook that France might soon have a full private international law (PIL) code can cause some envy in a German PIL scholar. After all, Germany does not have – nor will it have it in the foreseeable future – such a code. To be sure, a big part of German conflict-of-laws provisions can be found in one place, i.e. the Introductory Act to the Civil Code (EGBGB). But this Act overall is not limited to PIL issues. Moreover, there is no piece of legislation exclusively and comprehensively devoted to questions of cross-border proceedings in civil matters. International jurisdiction outside the scope of EU law typically must be determined by applying the rules for local jurisdiction/venue “double-functionally” (on the prevalence of this concept in the EU, see here). And while the German Code of Civil Procedure (ZPO) expressly addresses other cross-border issues (such as service abroad or recognition and enforcement of foreign decisions), it only does so in the context of the respective subject matter (e.g. service in general and effects of decisions in general). Hence, these provisions are scattered across the Code.

Nevertheless, we hope some remarks from a German perspective may be of interest. At the risk of coming across as stereotypical German (PIL) scholars, we focus on the General Part of the Draft Code in this contribution. The readers may rest assured that our forthcoming article in the Revue critique de droit international privé has a broader approach.

Idea and Scope of the General Part

The general part (Book I: “General Rules” = Articles 1-33) of the Draft Code contains provisions on conflict of laws as well as on procedure, including four “general general” provisions applying to both areas. The idea of “factoring out” provisions in this way obviously speaks to us, with the German Civil Code (BGB) arguably being the pinnacle of this legislative technique. True, to organize provisions in this way can run contrary to the accessibility of a legal instrument and therefore could be detrimental to one of the main goals of the Draft Code (see the Report of the Working Group (“Report”), p. 7). As the level of abstraction is still rather low, however, the advantage of not having to repeat the same provisions over and over (or at least to insert a plethora of references across the code) outweighs this risk. Furthermore, some of the general issues of PIL tend to appear to outsiders as arcane. Hence, it is beneficial for legal clarity to make some of them explicit.

The general part in the field of conflict of laws contains many of the usual suspects. It comes as no surprise in particular that there are provisions on renvoi (Article 8 of the Draft Code) and public policy (Article 11 of the Draft Code); we are not aware of any code of private international law anywhere in the world that fails to address these issues. It is commendable that a provision on characterisation (Article 6 of the Draft Code) has been drafted, following trends in other countries. The basic German approach (characterisation lege fori) is the same as in the Draft Code, but there is no provision to this effect. Of course, one of the main problems with characterisation concerns institutions unknown to the lex fori. Special conflict-of-laws provisions for such institutions make life much easier. It is thus a very good idea to have included provisions on trusts in the special part (Articles 107-114 of the Draft Code).

Renvoi and the Sword of Damocles

Article 8 of the Draft Code on renvoi has already been the subject of an insightful post by Gilles Cuniberti on this blog. We are in agreement with him that the respective reference in the Report to insights from comparative (private international) law are vague and misleading. We can add that Germany would be another example of national PIL allowing renvoi in general (Article 4(1) EGBGB).

We do not think that legal clarity is improved by making renvoi mandatory only if one of the parties so requests (Article 8 cl. 2 of the Draft Code). This would mean that applicable law at least for a considerable time has the sword of Damocles hanging over its head: Assuming that application of renvoi would lead to a different applicable law than if renvoi was excluded, the applicable law ultimately would be subject to one party choosing to “trigger” the application of renvoi or not. And why should one party have the unilateral power to change the applicable law in this way, possibly to the detriment of other parties?

The Conundrum of Overriding Mandatory Provisions

Article 7(1) of the Draft Code contains a definition of lois de police (overriding mandatory provisions). Paragraph 2 sets forth that French overriding mandatory provisions must be applied; pursuant to paragraph 3, foreign overriding mandatory provisions can be applied under certain conditions. The legislative technique thus is rather similar to Article 9 Rome I. There is no comparable provision in the EGBGB (Article 34 EGBGB – implementing the respective provision of the Rome Convention – was abolished at the end of 2009). Again, we consider it beneficial for legal clarity to have a written rule on this issue.

But the function of Article 5(2) of the Draft Code is not clear to us in this regard. It states that a conflict-of-laws rule is “excluded” (écartée) by a material rule for certain international situations or by an overriding mandatory provision. Why is this statement even needed if Article 7(2) and (3) of the Draft Code contain precise instructions of how to deal with overriding mandatory provisions? Additionally, we object to the idea arguably expressed in Article 5(2) of the Draft Code that a rule of substantive law can take precedence over a conflict-of-laws rule. This would mean to conflate two areas of law that – analytically speaking – must be strictly kept apart.

Even More General Provisions?

While the German EGBGB with only four articles in the section on “General Provisions” does not serve as an inspiring example in this context, one might consider addressing even more issues in the general part of the Draft Code. (The Report does not indicate whether this was on the Working Group’s agenda.) In particular, we are thinking of the incidental question and the triad of adaptation, substitution and transposition. All of them concern a stage in the analysis of a case in which the applicable law has seemingly already been determined. There is a certain risk that especially those not well-versed in PIL could overlook that not necessarily all aspects of the case will be governed by the law just determined and/or that some adjustments still must be made under substantive law. To include provisions on these issues, even if phrased rather broadly, could at least draw attention to them. And the French PIL Code could be something of a trailblazer here.

On 25 May 2022, the European Commission published a set of Questions and Answers (Q&As) to clarify the practical implementation of the new sets of Standard Contractual Clauses (SCCs), adopted in June 2021 (Decision 914/2021/EU). Contracts based on the earlier sets of SCCs will no longer be a lawful basis for international data transfers after 27 December 2022 (Q&A No. 22).

As a reminder, SCCs are standardised and pre-approved model data protection clauses that allow controllers and processors to comply with their obligations under EU data protection law. They are based on a triangular relationship, whereby the obligations assumed by the data importer and the data exporter (the parties to the contract) by virtue of their contractual agreement can be enforced by the data subject, acting as a third-party beneficiary.

SCCs are, by definition, incorporated within an international contract between a controller/processor of personal data established in the EU (or subject to the GDPR pursuant to Article 3(2) thereof) and a controller/processor established in a third country and placed beyond the scope of application of the GDPR (cf Q&A No. 24). Owing to their congenital “foreign element”, these contracts must speak the language of private international law (PIL), at least in cases where they are concluded between two commercial entities (see Q&A No. 2 for the potential range of users of the SCCs). In this respect, the Commission’s Q&As bring along welcome clarifications concerning some of most recurrent PIL issues arising out of these clauses, such as those regarding the contents and limits of conflict-of-laws party autonomy and the interplay between these contracts and the legal order (notably, the overriding mandatory rules) of the receiving third country.

While being of certain interest for the private international lawyer, the relationship between local laws (objectively applicable to the data importer) and the SCCs remains extremely complex and it deserves its own blogpost. For this reason, Section A of this blogpost will briefly present the major “PIL innovations” brought along by the 2021 SCCs, focusing solely on choice of law and choice of court clauses. Section B will then point to some unresolved issues that presently find no answer in the Commission’s Q&A (nor elsewhere).

A. Modernised SCCs and PIL: What’s New

The first and most evident innovation brought along in 2021 consists in an attempt at simplification of the regulatory environment. The three distinct sets of SCCs adopted under Directive 95/46 [Decision 2001/497/EC (SCCs for controller to controller transfers), Decision 2004/915/EC (alternative set of SCCs for controller to controller transfers) and Decision 2010/87/EU (transfer of personal data to processors established in third countries)] have been replaced by two sets of SCCs: one concerning the relationship between controllers and processors to fulfil the requirements in Article 28(3) and (4) of the GDPR; one dealing with SCCs as a tool for the transfer of data outside the EEA. The latter present an innovative modular structure consisting of 4 “modules”, covering four transfer scenarios (cf Q&A Nos 21 and 27): transfer from EU-based Controller to Non EU-based Controller (Module 1); transfer from EU-based Controller to Non EU-based Processor (Module 2); transfer from EU-based Processor to Non EU-based Processor (Module 3); transfer from EU-based Processor to Non EU-based Controller (Module 4).

The parties have to combine “general clauses” (that are applicable regardless of the specific transfer scenario) with the module(s) that applies to their specific situation.

For the purposes of the present blogpost, only the SCCs as a tool for the transfer of data outside the EEA will be considered, as specifically concerns the Clauses dealing with applicable law (A.1) and jurisdiction over remedies (A.2).

A.1 Applicable law

The regime governing the choice of the applicable law has undergone significant modifications in the 2021 restyling. To fully grasp these innovations, it is useful to briefly present, at the outset, the previous regime(s) established by the SCCs adopted under Directive 95/46/EC.

– Applicable Law under the Previous SCCs Regime

Concerning applicable law, the previous sets of SCCs clearly regarded international data transfers as a dynamic process, consisting of three distinct strands.

First, the processing of personal data by the data exporter, including the transfer itself, were governed, up to the moment of the transfer, by the objectively applicable data protection law [clause 4 of the SCCs set out by Decision 2001/497/EC; clause I(a) of the SCCs set out by Decision 2004/915/EC; clause 4 of the SCCs set out by Decision 2010/87/EU]. The “objectively applicable data protection law” is, in this context, the Member State law applicable to the EU-established controller by virtue of EU law itself (ie the law determined pursuant to Article 4 of Directive 95/46/EC until 23 May 2016, and by Article 3 GDPR after this date. This law now includes the GDPR-complementing provisions issued by the Member States based on the opening clauses scattered throughout the GDPR, whose spatial scope of application remains uncertain in current law).

Second, the processing of personal data by the data importer, occurring after the transfer to the third country, was seen as a separate processing operation, placed beyond the scope of the direct application of EU law, and governed by the law chosen by the parties to the SCCs. There was not, however, an unrestricted freedom of choice, which was limited to:

(1) the law of the Member State where the data exporter was established [clause 5 (b) first indent of the SCCs set out by Decision 2001/497/EC; clause II(h)(i) of the SCCs set out by Decision 2004/915/EC];

(2) the provisions of an adequacy decision applicable to the third country where the data importer is established, even if such adequacy decision was not applicable ratione materiae to this importer, provided that such provisions were of a nature which made them applicable in the sector of that transfer [cf. Clause 5 (b) second indent of the SCCs set out by Decision 2001/497/EC; clause II (h)(ii) of the SCCs set out by Decision 2004/915/EC];

(3) a (more or less) extensive set of “mandatory data protection principles”, set out in the annexes of the SCCs [clause 5 (b) indent of the SCCs set out by Decision 2001/497/EC; clause II(h)(iii) of the SCCs set out by Decision 2004/915/EC].

Evidently, it is not possible to qualify the choices made under (2) or (3) as a veritable “choice of governing law”: said provisions or principles would have been applied in conjunction with a national law (objectively) applicable to the data importer under local PIL.

Finally, all three sets of SCCs contained a provision entitled “governing law”, whereby “the Clauses shall be governed by the law of the Member State in which the data exporter is established” (respectively clauses 10, IV and 9). The actual scope of this choice of law clause shall be read in the light of what has been said regarding the first two strands of the data processing operation: vis-à-vis the first step, there is no room for party autonomy and the chosen law cannot directly govern the processing operations carried out by the exporter within the EU, including the transfer. The processing of the transferred data by the importer in the third country must also be excluded from the scope of the chosen “governing law”, otherwise the (different) choice eventually made under (2) or (3) above would have been deprived of practical significance. In essence, the law appointed under the clause entitled “governing law” was therefore limited to the “contractual issues” posed by the SCCs (validity, form, nullity, consequences of the total or partial breach etc).

– The 2021 SCCs

The 2021 SCCs did not change the approach with respect to the first strand of the data transfer operation, which remains subject to the “objectively applicable law”, ie the GDPR as eventually complemented by the applicable Member State law (see Clause 2).

With respect to the second strand, the new SCCs took away the possibility of choosing between different alternatives as regards the legal regime applicable to the processing operations carried out by the importer in the third state. The obligations of this party vis-à-vis the exporter and the data subjects are now set out in greater detail in the SCCs themselves, without any specific reference to a national governing law. Clause 4 specifies, in any event, that the SCCs shall “be read and interpreted in the light of the provisions of Regulation (EU) 2016/679”.

Finally, there is, just as in the previous sets of SCCs, a clause (Clause 17) titled “Governing law”, which is quite innovative as compared to its predecessors. Consistently with the “modular structure” of the SCCs, this clause presents different wordings depending on the specific transfer operation at stake.

  • For transfers from controller to controller (Module 1), the parties are free to choose the law of one of the EU Member States, subject to the sole requirement that such law allows for third-party beneficiary rights. In particular, neither the clause itself nor the Q&A require an objective connection between the chosen Member State and the transfer operation: the laws of the Member States are deemed perfectly fungible in this respect.
  • This unrestricted freedom of choice disappears for Modules 2 (transfer from controller to processor) and 3 (transfers between processors): the law of the Member State where the exporter is established applies in principle, unless it does not allow for third parties beneficiary rights. In that case, the parties must choose the law of another Member States that allows for such rights (again, no objective connection is required).
  • Module 4 (transfers from processor to controller) deals with the situation of a non EU-established controller that transfers data to a EU-established processor (eg. outsourcing of payroll services to a EU company). This transfer comes under the scope of EU law once the EU-based processor sends the data back to its controller, established outside the EEA. Given that this data was originally placed under a different (and possibly less protective) legal regime, EU law relaxes some of its requirements and the SCCs allow, in this case, for an unrestricted choice of applicable law (cf. Q&A No. 37). It is uncertain as to whether this unrestricted freedom of choice continues to exist if the data transferred by the processor partially originates in the EU: in this case, in fact, the Q&As specify that the relaxation of other requirements no longer applies (cf. Q&A 44). Despite the silence of the Q&As on this specific point, the same solution seems required as concerns the governing law.

A lingering uncertainty concerns the scope of the governing law and, in particular, the question as to whether it extends to directly regulating the processing operations carried out by the data importer in the third country. According to Q&A No. 37, this law “will govern the application of the SCCs”. It is also stressed that Clause 17 shall be read in conjunction with Clause 4, whereby the interpretation and application of the SCCs should conform to, and should not contradict, the GDPR. Nonetheless, throughout the Q&A, the governing law is mentioned with respect to marginal contractual issues such as formal requirements (Q&A No. 6); the formalisation of the parties’ consent within the docking clause (Q&A No 12); the time limits (Q&A No. 37).

A.2 Jurisdiction over Remedies

With respect to jurisdiction for remedies, the previous sets of SCCs were consistent in that they enabled the data subject who invoked third-party beneficiary rights to sue one or both parties to the contract in the Member State where the data exporter was established, without prejudice to any other substantive or procedural rights he may have had under national or international law.

The new SCCs (Clause 18) are, at once, more detailed and more liberal on this point, insofar as they set out, concerning modules 1, 2 and 3, the general principle whereby “any dispute arising from these Clauses shall be resolved by the courts of an EU Member State”. This provision is particularly important from a systemic point of view, as it makes sure that, irrespective of the law governing the processing activities carried out by the importer, the most important principles of EU data protection law would be enforced in any case as overriding mandatory provisions of the forum.

Clause 18 then requires the parties to expressly designate the court of a Member State: again, the freedom of choice seems unrestricted and no longer dependent on the existence of an objective connection between forum and dispute. Letter (c) of that Clause adds the most important innovation, insofar as it allows the data subject to bring legal proceedings against the data exporter and/or data importer before the courts of the Member State in which he/she has his/her habitual residence. This choice of court agreement extends the procedural rights granted to the data subject by Article 79 GDPR, a provision that opens a ground of jurisdiction solely with respect to actions brought against the EU-established data exporter, jurisdiction for any action brought against the third-country data importer being left, under than provision, to national PIL.

It must be stressed on that Q&A No. 33 contains a somewhat confusing reference to national law, as it states, concerning the forum opened by letter (c), that “such actions can be brought before the competent court of the EEA country (as determined by national law) in which you live …”. Nonetheless, the data subject’s possibility of suing the data importer in the Member State of his/her habitual residence should depend not on the (dubious) existence, in national law, of a forum actoris, but rather on the choice of court agreement resulting from the combined reading of letters (c) and (d) of Clause 18 (the latter stating that “[t]he Parties agree to submit themselves to the jurisdiction of such courts”). A totally different question is knowing whether, and under which conditions, the designated court will enforce this choice of court agreement: in case the Brussels I bis Regulation is not deemed applicable to these contracts (see Section B), the answer to this question will indeed depend on the (non uniform and potentially inconsistent) national laws of the Member States.

A derogatory regime is set in place for Module 4, which allows the parties to designate any court, ie even the court(s) of a third country. In this respect, however, Q&A No. 33 specifies that this shall not affect the procedural rights conferred to the data subject vis-à-vis the data exporter under Article 79 GDPR

B. Modernised SCCs and PIL: What’s Unresolved

Despite the useful clarifications brought along by the Commission Q&As, concerning notably the room for manoeuvre given to the parties to the SCCs regarding choice of law and choice of court agreements, there still exists some major open questions regarding the practical operation of these PIL devices, that are liable to impinge on the effectiveness of SCCs as a tool for the effective protection of European personal data in case of extra-EEA transfers.

It must be remembered that the main purpose of the SCCs is to “provide a comprehensive data protection framework that has been developed to ensure continuity of protection in case of data transfers to data importers that are not subject to the GDPR” (Q&A No. 24). Within this framework, the third-party beneficiary rights granted to the data subject play a pivotal role, as evidenced by the importance attached to them during the choice of the governing law (supra, Section A.1). Third-party beneficiary rights are a key-element of the so-called “private enforcement” of EU data protection law, insofar as they allow the data subject to directly invoke the protection vested by the GDPR and the SCCs both against the importer and the exporter, and to do so before a court in the EU.

Intuitively, the effective ability of the data subject to ground the jurisdiction of such courts and to invoke the application of said law will depend on the procedural treatment of these choice-of-law and choice-of-court agreements in the seised/designated courts. In this respect, the applicability of both the Brussels Ibis and the Rome I Regulations to the SCCs remains controversial, and finds no clarification in the Commission’s Q&As. Conversely, both the SCCs and the Q&As seem to simply assume that these choice-of-law and choice-of-court agreements will be enforced by any court in the EU.

B.1 Civil and Commercial Matters?

The Brussels I bis and the Rome I Regulations (as well as the Hague Convention on Choice of Court Agreements) apply in “civil and commercial matters”. A recent and exhaustive summary of the (uniform) meaning of this expression in EU PIL can be found in the Opinion of AG Szpunar and the judgment rendered by the ECJ in Rina. Regard should be had, in particular, to the need of ensuring that the Regulations are broad in scope (§ 31 of the judgment in Rina) and to the “the elements which characterise the nature of the legal relationships between the parties to the dispute or the subject matter thereof” (§ 32). This assessment aims at excluding that one of the parties (or both) is acting in the exercise of “public” powers, ie “powers falling outside the scope of the ordinary legal rules applicable to relationships between private individuals” (§ 34).

Against this backdrop, it is worth stressing that the SCCs set up by the Commission can be used by the parties (which, in most cases, will be private commercial operators) without the prior approval by a public authority, the competent DPA. The triangular relationship between the data importer, the data exporter and the data subject heavily relies of private contract law. If it is true that these are all factors that may vouch for the inclusion of SCCs within the scope of “civil and commercial matters”, the fact remains that the Commission’s Q&As stress, on many occasions, the specific “nature” of the SCCs and the ensuing limits placed on the parties’ substantive party autonomy: “if the parties change the text of the SCCs themselves (beyond the adaptations mentioned below) they cannot rely on the legal certainty offered by an EU act” (Q&A No. 7, emphasis added). It will likely be for the ECJ to determine whether the specific nature of “EU act” attached to the SCCs and the limitations it entails for ordinary contract law are enough to exclude a characterisation as “civil and commercial matters” for the purposes of EU PIL.

If the Brussels 1bis Regulation was deemed applicable ratione materiae, it would ensure the effectiveness of the above-mentioned choice-of-court agreements throughout the EU. The fact that said agreements are invoked by a third-party beneficiary should not pose any problem in the light of the Gerling case law. Clearly, the Brussels Ibis Regulation would not be applicable to choice of court agreements concluded under Module 4, in cases where jurisdiction is conferred upon a third-state court.

B.2 A “Free” Choice of Governing Law?

The applicability of the Rome I Regulation to the SCCs elicits more substantial doubts.

To begin with, it is uncertain as to whether the choice of law made by the parties under current Clause 17 can be deemed “free” in the sense of Article 3 thereof. Setting aside the non-problematic case of the (unrestricted) freedom of choice available for Module 4, Module 2 and 3 confer very limited leeway: the parties must choose the law of the Member State where the data exporter is established, deviations being admissible solely if this law does not allow for third-party beneficiary rights (it must be added that the unrestricted freedom of choice which follows from this circumstance is at odds with the limitation set by the general rule: a “cascade” list of options or, even better, a rule turned around a “close(st?) connection” with another Member State would have been a more logical complement to the general rule).

As concerns the requirement that the choice of law made under Article 3 of the Rome I Regulation shall be “free”, it is worth stressing that both the Opinion of AG Campos Sánchez-Bordona and the judgment of the Court in Gruber Logistics started from the assumption that a “choice” of law which is actually imposed by law would be incompatible with this provision (respectively, §§ 97-101 of the Opinion and § 39 of the judgment). In the same case, the Court clarified that regulation does not prohibit the use of standard clauses which are pre-formulated by one of the parties (or, it must be assumed, by a third party). In such a case, freedom of choice, within the meaning of Article 3, can be exercised by consenting to such a clause and is not called into question solely because that choice is made on the basis of a pre-formulated clause.

The compatibility of Clause 17 of the SCCs with the Rome I Regulation teeters along the fine line which separates an ex lege imposition of an applicable law and the sheer pre-drafting by the Commission. It must be stressed, in this respect, that SCCs are established through an Implementing Decision of the Commission, but they can be used by the parties on a voluntary basis to demonstrate compliance with data protection requirements (Q&A No. 1). Nonetheless, if the parties choose to resort to these standard clauses, they are not free to amend the wording of Clause 17, besides the exercise of the freedom of choice (if any) explicitly allowed under that provision. If this provision is amended, the parties need to submit their contract to the DPA for prior approval, to be able to proceed with the transfer. It is highly doubtful that a DPA would approve a contract containing, for example, a choice of third-country law for the transfer scenarios corresponding to Modules 1, 2 and 3. In fact, in the Schrems II, the ECJ attached great importance to the safeguards following from the application of the law of the Member State where the exporter is established, when assessing if the protection granted by the former SCCs was “essentially equivalent” to that guaranteed within the Union (§ 138).

B.3 Universal Application v Restrictions to the Freedom of Choice

More fundamentally, it must be determined whether the Rome I Regulation is compatible with the “geographical” restriction of the parties’ freedom of choosing the applicable law. This problem is shared by Modules 1, 2 and 3: the chosen law shall be, in all of these cases, the law of a Member State, whereas a choice of third-country law would be totally admissible under the combined reading of Articles 2 and 3 of the Rome I Regulation. From the standpoint of the general theory of PIL, behind this asymmetry lie irreconcilable philosophical stances as concerns the international interchangeability of (private) laws. The Rome I Regulation starts from the assumption of a perfect interchangeability between all the (private) laws of this world, irrespective of their specific contents, and subject to a sheer ex post control through the gateway of the public policy exception. Conversely, the Commission’s SCCs (and probably the GDPR itself) adopt a more prudential approach based on an ex ante pre-selection of laws (those of the Member States of the EU) which, because of their contents, can be deemed “essentially equivalent” in terms of the protection granted to personal data. Again, this is a thorny issue that the ECJ might likely have to resolve in the near future, considering that, according to the Commission, SCCs are, at present, “the most popular tool” for transferring personal data outside the EEA in accordance with the GDPR (Q&A No. 3).

This post was written by Paul Lorenz Eichmüller, University of Vienna.


Austrian civil procedure law contains a provision that requires foreign nationals bringing a claim in Austrian courts to provide security for the legal costs incurred by the defendant in case the claim should not be successful. However, as this would clearly violate the non-discrimination principle of what is today Article 18 of the TFEU, the CJEU considered a similar provision under German Law inapplicable as early as 1997 (C-323/95, Hayes/Kronenberger GmbH). Now that the UK is not a Member State of the EU anymore, Article 18 TFEU can no longer be applied in that respect. After this issue has already arisen in Germany (which has also been discussed on this blog), there has also been another case in Austria – yet, with a different outcome.

The Duty to Provide Security for Costs

Pursuant to § 57 of the Austrian Civil Procedure Code (ACPC), any foreign claimant is required to provide security for the costs in civil proceedings brought before Austrian courts if the defendant asks for the payment of such a security. While these rules have become irrelevant within Europe due to EU law, they hit with full force when defendants from third countries are concerned – at least as long as there is no international treaty prohibiting security deposits for costs.

However, in accordance with the ratio behind this rule – which is to prevent that the defendant wins the case in Austria but, due to a lack of enforceability, cannot even recover their own legal costs – there are further exceptions in which a foreign claimant is not obliged to provide security for costs contained in para 2 of the provision. These are: the claimant’s habitual residence is in Austria, the Austrian (cost) decision is enforceable in the state of the claimant’s habitual residence, or the claimant has (sufficient) immovable property in Austria to cover the costs.

International Treaties Prohibiting Security Deposits

There is no international treaty prescribing that a security deposit may not be required that was applicable in the present case. One might in this regard think e.g., of the Hague Convention on Civil Procedure, which, however, the UK has never signed. For those remembering the previous German decision, the European Convention on Establishment might come to mind. After all, the application of its Article 9 – prohibiting cost deposits from member state nationals – only failed because the rules of the convention only apply to natural and not to legal persons. As the Austrian case concerned a natural person as a claimant, this could have seemed like a solution – however, Austria has only signed, but not ratified said convention and therefore, its application also fails.

Finally, there is also a bilateral Austro-British Convention regarding proceedings in Civil and Commercial Matters from 1931, Article 11 of which prescribes that British citizens resident in Austria “shall not be compelled to give security for costs in any case where a subject of [Austria] would not be so compelled”. As the claimant did not reside in Austria, this convention was inapplicable in the present case as well.

Recognition of the Austrian (Cost) Decision as a Way Out

As there is no prohibition on security deposits in international treaties, the issue was whether any of the exceptions of § 57 para 2 ACPC apply. As the other exceptions were clearly not applicable, the only question that remained was whether there is an international treaty providing for the recognition of a possible Austrian cost decision in the UK (the claimant’s habitual residence).

With the UK having left the EU, the core legal acts on the recognition and enforcement of Austrian judgments in the UK, namely the Brussels Ibis Regulation and the Lugano Convention, are no longer applicable. Similarly, the UK government does not consider itself bound by the Brussels Convention anymore (there has been considerable discussion about this matter on this blog). It might therefore seem that there is no legal basis that would guarantee the enforcement of an Austrian cost award in the UK.

However, as rightly identified by the Austrian Supreme Court, the parties had concluded an exclusive choice-of-court agreement in favour of the Austrian courts, which would make a judgment (including its cost award) enforceable by the means of the Hague Choice of Court Convention. While the UK is no longer bound by the Convention by virtue of being an EU Member State, it acceded to the Convention on 28 September 2020 in its own right, providing that the convention would apply without interruption (see here).

As a judgment with a cost award would be enforceable in the UK due to the applicability of the Hague Choice of Court Convention, there was thus no need to demand a security deposit for the costs from the British claimant. While the defendant submitted that there was no precedent in the UK on the application of the convention and that it was therefore unsure whether a cost award would be enforced, the Supreme Court considered that there was no indication that UK courts would breach their obligation under public international law. Thus, no security deposit for costs was required.

Conclusion

After many cases seen so far, the case decided by the Austrian Supreme Court shows once more how Brexit has made international litigation in relation to the UK so much more difficult. While the Hague Choice of Court Convention provided for a solution in the case at hand, this will only apply if there is an exclusive choice of court agreement. In all other cases, British claimants not resident in Austria will have to provide a security deposit if they want to bring a claim in Austrian courts – making cross-border litigation again somewhat more tedious. It remains to be seen whether the Hague Judgments Convention will at a later point in time alleviate this problem, but as neither the UK nor the EU have even signed the convention yet, it is still a long way until we will experience any of its effects.

On 19 May 2022, the CJEU rendered an inadmissibility order in case C-722/21, Frontera Capital. The request for a preliminary ruling originated from a Spanish notary, who delivered a European order for payment (EOP) under Regulation 1896/2006. She relied, for that purpose, on the parallel competence vested on Spanish notaries for the delivery of domestic orders for payment (Articles 70-71 of the Spanish law on notaries). The notary in question was subsequently sanctioned by the Dirección General de los Registros y del Notariado for having issued the EOP ultra vires. In her opinion, however, all the conditions set out by Regulation 1896/2006 were satisfied (§ 5 of the inadmissibility order), hence the referral to the CJEU.

While being inadmissible on a number of grounds (i.e., the lack of an actual dispute in the main proceedings and the doubtful characterisation of the referring authority as a ‘court or tribunal’ of a Member State under Article 267 TFUE: cf § 14 and § 16 of the order), this case confirms that the interaction between notaries, theirs competences under domestic law and the EU private international law (EU PIL) remains, to the present days, problematic.

This finding is further evidenced by the number of preliminary questions raised on this issue (nine in total) since 2015, ie the year when Pula Parking and Zulfikarpašić brought the relationship between notaries and EU PIL on the table of the Luxembourg judge for the first time.

Read in conjunction with this past case law, Frontera Capital provides the opportunity for a broader discussion on some recurrent obstacles that hinder the smooth interplay between EU PIL Regulations – particularly the statutory definitions they set out – and national laws, especially in the subject matters where the intervention of legal professionals other than judges is more common at the comparative law level.

Five Years of CJEU Case Law

Cross-border cases are nothing new to European notaries, who are generally well versed in PIL and eager supporters of its further harmonisation by the EU (see, for example, points 3, 4 and 5 of the Proposal of the Notaries of Europe for the Conference on the Future of Europe). The requests for preliminary rulings thus far decided by the CJEU and involving, more or less directly, these professionals can be broken down into three main categories.

In the field of civil and commercial matters, the referring courts in Pula Parking and Zulfikarpašić – concerning, respectively, the Brussels I bis and the EEO Regulation – asked for clarifications regarding the status of Croatian notaries as ‘courts’ for the purposes of those Regulations, in cases where these professionals were acting in the exercise of the powers conferred to them under domestic law with respect to the delivery of executive titles based on ‘trustworthy documents’. A similar question was raised – directly by the seized notary – in the more recent case Frontera Capital. As I argued elsewhere, the choice of the Spanish legislator as concerns the creation of a monitorio notarial was liable to create Pula Parking-alike scenarios. And, in fact, while the Spanish notary just asked if the EOP Regulation was correctly applied in the specific case, her question could be rephrased as concerning its own status as ‘court’ under Article 5 n 3 of the EOP Regulation, given that such characterization would enable a Spanish notary to issue EOPs in compliance with this instrument (as it is the case for Hungarian notaries).

A second group of cases concern the Succession Regulation, but raise similar questions. Cases WB and EE requested, inter alia,  an interpretation of its Article 3(2), thus prompting the ECJ to address both the ‘procedural preconditions’ and the substance of the definition of court set out by that provision, having specific regards to the tasks entrusted to Polish and Lithuanian notaries. More recently, case OKR also raised several questions concerning the interpretation of Regulation 650/2012. Just like Frontera Capital, the case was nonetheless deemed inadmissible because the referral came directly from a (Polish) notary, lacking the requirements set by Article 267 TFEU (as summarized by Dorsch Consult) to qualify as ‘national court or tribunal’ for the purposes of that provision.

A final group of issues, which is beyond the scope of this blogpost, originates from the joined cases C-267/19 and C-323/19, requiring the CJEU to assess again the Croatian legislation on the notarial competence in debt collection based on trustworthy documents. Here, the CJEU rejected the argument whereby the finding in Pula Parking and Zulfikarpašić, that is inapplicability of the EU uniform regimes on recognition and enforcement of judgments to Croatian notarial deeds, coupled by the non inter partes character of the Croatian procedure, could amount to an infringement of the principle of non-discrimination (Article 18 TFEU) and the right to a fair trial (Article 47 of the Charter). Similar arguments were advanced (and rejected) in case C-234/19.

Apart from this last group of cases – that are illustrative of the limited scrutiny the CJEU can exercise on domestic justice reforms – all the above mentioned preliminary rulings call into question the possibility of characterizing notaries as ‘courts’, for the purposes of either Art. 267 TFEU or specific EU PIL instruments (or both).

Notaries as Courts: Recurrent Difficulties

The difficulties thus far encountered in classifying notaries as ‘courts’ stem from the friction between the uniform statutory definitions (if any) of ‘court’ adopted by EU law and the ever-changing legal environment of 27 Member States, who lack a common understanding of the notarial profession (cf, on this point, the Specific Study of the CEPEJ on the Legal Professions: Notaries prepared by the CNUE)

On the one side, in the attempt of unburdening an ailing court system, the procedural laws of Member States tend to be inspired by ‘local’ policy choices, based on a culturally-embedded understanding of the role of each legal profession within the broader justice machinery. On the other side, however, EU law remains largely anchored to a more traditional (and uniform) concept of ‘court’, grounded in the exercise of ‘judicial functions’. For this reason, although notaries are, at present, often called to perform their duties in matters that fall into the scope of application of EU PIL Regulations, they are not, in most cases, entitled to initiate a direct dialogue with the CJEU thorough Art. 267 TFEU, when they harbour doubts as concerns the correct interpretation of their provisions or their own status as ‘courts’ under one of said instruments. Regarding this last issue, the problem seems exacerbated by the regulatory approach adopted by the EU legislator with respect to the statutory definitions of court or tribunal under the different EU PIL Regulations.

The (In)Direct Dialogue with Luxembourg

Cases such as OKR and Frontera Capital prove that notaries may feel the need to establish a direct communication channel with Luxembourg under Art. 267 TFEU when they harbour doubts as to the correct interpretation of a provision of EU PIL. And this not just for the sake of the proper application of EU law, but also to ensure the correct performance of their duties and avoid incurring in professional liability or sanctions. In this respect, however, the stance taken by the CJEU is quite clear and well-established: to be regarded as a ‘court or tribunal’ within the meaning of Article 267 TFEU, ‘it must be determined … whether [the referring body] is called upon to give judgment in proceedings intended to lead to a decision of a judicial nature’ (OKR, § 23).

In OKR, the CJEU deemed that, in the proceedings at stake in that case, the notary was not required to decide a legal dispute (§ 24), insofar as (s)he did not take decision of a judicial nature ‘either when he or she confirms his or her refusal decision or when he or she considers the complaint to be well founded’ (OKR, § 28). Nonetheless, the Court placed a special emphasis put on ‘the specific capacity’ and ‘the particular legal context’ in which the referring authority operates (OKR, § 23), which suggests that the question as to whether a notary could be considered a ‘court or tribunal’ of a Member State for the purposes of Art. 267 TFEU should be answered on a case-by-case basis, having due regard of the specific features of the notarial proceedings at issue.

In any case, it should not be too hastily concluded that the eventual exclusion of notaries from the procedure set out by Art. 267 TFEU is liable to hamper the uniform interpretation of EU law. According to the CJEU, the existence of complaints before courts against notarial decisions ensures, on any view, the effectiveness of the mechanism of the reference for a preliminary ruling and the achievement of its objective (cf. § 33 OKR). And, in fact, this is what happened after the OKR order, where one of the parties appealed the notarial order before a court, who then referred a new request for preliminary ruling to the Luxembourg Court (case C-21/22, pending).

The Plethora of Statutory Definitions of ‘Court’ in EU PIL

The second recurrent issue emerging from the CJEU case law concerns the characterisation of notaries as ‘courts’ under specific instruments of EU PIL. In this regard, the CJEU has explicitly acknowledged that the definitions retained by EU PIL Regulations may be broader than that developed under Art. 267 TFEU (§ 31 OKR). This means, in practice, that a notary could qualify as ‘a court’ for the purposes of EU PIL, without nonetheless be entitled to refer a request for preliminary ruling to the CJEU.

While a comprehensive analysis of the definitions of court set out by EU PIL Regulations would be beyond the scope of this blogpost, this table may be a useful starting point for identifying some very general trends in the drafting techniques used for this purpose.

Firstly, it is worth remarking that there is no ‘one-size-fits-all’ definition of ‘court’. Rather, definitions tend to be context-dependent (as evidenced by the Recitals of the Regulations dealing with family law, successions and insolvency) or even implied (as it was the case under the 1968 Brussels Convention and the Brussels I Regulation). Such definitions tend to be more sophisticated in matters where the intervention of authorities other than courts is more established (eg family and succession law).

Secondly, and relatedly, there is no single approach to the drafting and structuring of the definitions of court. Rather, current definitions make use of at least 5 different drafting techniques, including:

(a) the ad hoc assimilation, by the EU legislator, of specific non-judicial bodies to ‘courts’ in the main body of the Regulation, without nonetheless providing a ‘general’ definition thereof (e.g. Article 3 Reg. Brussels I bis and Article 4(7) of the EEO Regulation);

(b) the ‘open renvoi’ to domestic legal systems, based on sheer functional equivalence (i.e., not accompanied either by a uniform general definition of ‘court’ or by an obligation of notification to the Commission: e.g. Article 62 of the 2007 Lugano Convention and Article 2(2)(1) of the Brussels II ter , which follows in the footsteps of its predecessors: cf § 34 of the Opinion of AG Collins in C-646/20).

(c) the ‘conditional renvoi’ to the designation by Member States, where the domestic appointment of an entity as ‘court’ must be coupled by the notification to the Commission (e.g. Articles 5 n. 3 and 79 of the EPO Regulation);

(d) the establishment of a core-definition, setting out minimum requirements (e.g. the power to ‘take decisions’) but otherwise relying entirely on national laws (e.g. Insolvency Regulations).

(e) the establishment of well-rounded general definitions, complemented by detailed Recitals and accompanied by an obligation of notification to the Commission (most of the instruments dealing with family law and successions).

Thirdly, owing to the variety of drafting techniques used by the EU legislator, these definitions present variable degrees of flexibility and, therefore, a varying aptitude for prompt adaptability to domestic judicial reforms. In fact, under the approach sub a), any change to the scope of the definition of ‘court’, aimed at the inclusion of domestic notaries therein, cannot by attained based on analogical reasoning (see again here) and would probably require a legislative amendment of the main body of the concerned EU Regulation(s). This approach is indisputably more cumbersome than a sheer change to the Annexes (e.g. Art. 2(2) of Regulation 4/2009) or to the lists established by the Commission and made public through the European Judicial Network.

Finally, while the definitions set out in the field of family and succession law appear strikingly homogeneous as regards both their substantive contents and their increasing sophistication, including the explicit acknowledgment of the role played by notaries in those domains, the field of civil and commercial matters stands out of its sectoral inhomogeneity and remarkable methodological fragmentation. Of the 8 EU PIL instruments covering this domain, 3 (Brussels Convention, Brussels I Regulation; EAPO Regulation) are completely silent on the matter of knowing what constitutes ‘a court or tribunal’; 2 (Brussels I bis and the EEO Regulations) follow the approach sub a); 1 (Lugano Convention) adopts the approach sub b); 2 opt for the approach sub c) (the EPO and possibly the Small Claims Regulation). This lack of uniformity may unnecessarily complicate the application of those Regulations in practice.  

Lingering Doubts

In the light of the above, it is not surprising that the characterization of notaries as courts has posed important challenges in many concrete cases.  Nonetheless, the identification of what constitutes ‘a court’ for the purposes of EU PIL should be easy (or, at list easier) in the instruments that set out an obligation of notification to the Commission, called to draw up a list of such authorities that complements the statutory definition eventually established the legislator.

In this respect, the case WB has shed light on the normative value of such lists. Therein, the CJEU held that the notifications to the Commission, and the lists established on that basis, ‘creat[e] a presumption that the national authorities declared [therein] constitute ‘courts’’. Nonetheless, ‘the fact that a national authority has not been mentioned in such a notification cannot, per se, be sufficient for it to be concluded that that authority does not satisfy the conditions set out in Article 3(2) [of the Succession Regulation]’(emphasis added).

It is worth stressing that, in WB, the CJEU’s ruling finds a solid ground in the letter of a Regulation providing for one of the most sophisticate provisions on the meaning of ‘court’ to be found in EU PIL. Art. 3(2) of the Succession Regulation sets out a well-defined general definition, which is not only accompanied by specific and uniform minimum requirements, but also explicitly assimilates notaries to courts when they exercise ‘judicial functions’. These should be understood, in essence, as referring to the ‘exercise of decision making power’, irrespective of the (contentious or non-contentious) nature of the proceedings within which it takes place. Therefore, ‘an authority must be regarded as exercising judicial functions where it may have jurisdiction to hear and determine disputes’, that is to ‘rule on its own motion on possible points of contention between the parties’ (judgment in WB, § 55-56). In turn, this ‘exercise of decision-making power’ is what justifies the requirement of compliance with fundamental procedural principles (Opinion in WB, § 78).

In the post-WB era, the real question remains as to whether, and to what extent, the CJEU’s finding on the normative value of the lists established by the Commission is transposable to other EU PIL instruments, such as the EPO Regulation, where the obligation of notification is not coupled by an explicit statutory definition of ‘court’. Therein, there are no minimum requirementsagainst which the status of a non-judicial authority can be assessed in case it does not feature in the lists established by the Commission or by the concerned Member State. This was indeed the most interesting question raised by Frontera Capital: Article 5 n. 3 of the EPO Regulation extends the status of court to ‘any authority in a Member State with competence regarding’ not only ‘European orders for payment’, but also ‘any other related matters’. Therein, the real issue would have been as to whether a parallel competence regarding domestic orders for payment can be considered a ‘matter related to EOPs’, thus bringing Spanish notaries under the umbrella of the definition under Article 5 n. 3, despite the lack of formal communication to the Commission.

Future Outlooks

What happens if a notary does not fulfil the requirements for a characterisation as ‘court’? Extant CJEU case law, especially the rulings under the Succession Regulation, clarify that, in that case, the notary is not bound by the uniform rules of jurisdiction, and the resulting notarial deed won’t circulate in other Member States as a ‘judgment’. It could, however, circulate in other Member States under the regime for authentic instruments, if such deed corresponds to the uniform definition thereof.

As opposed to the definitions of ‘courts’, the notion of ‘authentic instrument’ profits from a remarkable uniformity across the several EU PIL Regulations, the baseline of these definitions being always the Unibank judgment, rendered by the CJEU under the 1968 Brussels Convention. Civil law notaries are, in most cases, among the authorities empowered to confer the character of ‘authenticity’ (see Recitals 31 of Regulations 2016/1103 and 2016/1104).

The CJEU has therefore readily vested the status of ‘authentic document’ upon a ‘deed of certification of succession, drawn up by a notary at the unanimous request of all the parties to the procedure conducted by the notary’ (WB, § 66, emphasis added) and upon a ‘national certificate of succession’, by which the notary ‘establish[es] the undisputed subjective rights of, and the legally relevant facts relating to, natural and legal persons, [thereby] protect[ing] the legal interests of those persons and of the State’ (EE § 52, emphasis added).

Consent, expressed through the unanimous request of all parties or through the idea of undisputed rights, lies at the core of the notarial competence regarding authentic instruments, just as the notion of dispute is the benchmark against which the ‘exercise of judicial function’ by the notary shall be assessed. While being apparently clear-cut, the distinction between consent and dispute could become remarkably blurred with respect to certain legal assessments entrusted to the notaries, where this professional is called to adjudicate on rights that are only ‘presumptively undisputed’, at the unilateral request of one of the parties. Reference is made, primarily but nor exclusively, to the delivery of orders for payment by the notary based on documentary evidence unilaterally supplied by the creditor, and without the prior hearing of the defendant. In such cases, the distinction between dispute and consent does not provide a definite answer to the question as to whether such order for payments, lacking a prompt challenge by the debtor, could eventually circulate intra-EU as authentic instruments.

The negative answer finds support in another element of the European definition thereof, that is the requirement whereby an authentic instrument shall be ‘formally drawn up’ as such in the Member State of origin. This open renvoi to domestic formalities renders the EU definition of authentic instrument only ‘semi-uniform’, insofar as EU law nowhere explains what it takes for an authentic instrument to be ‘formally drawn up’ as such in the issuing Member State. In one of the few academic works that approach this topic from a PIL perspective, late Professor Fitchen described the ‘basic steps required for the drawing-up of a notarial authentic instrument’ as follows (pp. 28-29):

The notary will first ensure that each party is fully aware of the nature and meaning of the proposed transaction; he will also impartially advise each party upon the available options by which the desired transaction could be accomplished. After this, the notary will draft an appropriate legal document. … Having prepared the document in draft, the notary will then read it aloud to the parties. Assuming each party then indicates that he understands the transaction and that he still wishes to proceed with it, the notary will then invite [the parties] to sign the document. At this stage the document is still a private document. The private document only becomes an authentic instrument/public document once the notary, having declared upon it that he has read it to the parties, that they have expressly approved all their declarations within it, and that they have then signed it ‘before’ him, finally draws it up as an authentic instrument by signing it himself then formally applying his notarial seal to the document as a notary of his civil law legal system.

Evidently, these formal or procedural requirements are strictly linked to, and reinforce, the idea of unanimous consent that underpins authentic instruments and should be seen as an integral part of the uniform definitions established by EU Regulations. It is highly doubtful that such requirements could be deemed satisfied with respect to notarial documents that are, at once, issued at the unilateral request of one of the parties and based on the sheer acquiescence of the party who would suffer the detrimental consequences stemming therefrom. 

This is the third contribution to an online symposium on the ruling of the European Court of Justice, of 20 June 2022, in London Steam-Ship Owners’ Mutual Assistance Association Ltd v Spain. The first post was contributed by Adrian Briggs, the second one by Gilles Cuniberti. The post below was written by Antonio Leandro, who is Professor of Private International Law at the University of Bari. Update: another contribution to the symposium has been published in the meanwhile, authored byFrançois Mailhé.


In London Steam-Ship Owners’ Mutual Assistance Association Ltd v Spain the Court attempted to strike a balance between the ‘integrity of a Member State’s internal legal order’ and the ‘provisions and fundamental objectives’ of the Brussels I Regulation. This is as much apparent as the fact that the Court ruled closely on the circumstances of the case.

‘Internal integrity’ means that the recognition cannot trigger irreconcilability between judgments in the requested State, even when it comes to ‘judgment entered in terms of an award’. The relevant ‘provisions and fundamental objectives’ of the Brussels I Regulation prevent the same judgment from being recognized where: (a) jurisdiction (arbitration) clauses in insurance contracts have worked against (third) injured parties in such a way as to restrict their right to bring direct actions against the insurer, and (b) lis pendens rules have been breached.

What about ‘judgments entered in terms of an award’ that instead comply with ‘provisions and fundamental objectives’ of the Regulation? The expression may refer to ‘judgments entered in terms of an award’ not breaching the relative effect of jurisdiction (arbitration) clauses or the lis pendens rules, or, more generally, not encroaching on the provisions of the Regulation that protect weak parties.

Nothing seems to prevent such judgments from falling under Article 34(3) of the Brussels I Regulation and, even more, under Article 45(3) of the Brussels I Regulation (Recast), because the definition of ‘judgment’ in Article 2(a) does not appear to be limited to the material scope of the Regulation.

Res Judicata in the Interplay between Brussels I and Arbitration

The Court put res judicata outside the realm of public policy. In this respect, the Court went beyond the circumstances of the case, as it reiterated that ‘the use of the “public-policy” concept is precluded when the issue is whether a foreign judgment is compatible with a national judgment’ (para 78, which refers to Hoffmann).

The message is clear: the ‘issue of the force of res judicata’ has been regulated exhaustively in Article 34(3) and (4) of the Brussels I Regulation (Article 45 (1) (c) and (d) of the Brussels I Regulation (Recast)). The issue has been regulated exhaustively when it comes to ‘judgments’, even those ‘entered in terms of an award’.

Instead, the ‘issue’ — i.e., the use of the public policy exception under the Brussels I Regulation (Recast) to protect the force of res judicata against the recognition of irreconcilable foreign judgments – remains open when it comes to arbitral awards.

Assuming that the protection of res judicata of arbitral awards amounts to a public policy concern in the requested State, Article 45(1)(a) may be relied upon as a ground for refusing the recognition of an irreconcilable foreign ‘judgment’. This conclusion does not find obstacles in the Court’s reasoning.

As I argued elsewhere, the public policy defence neither overlaps nor expands in such cases the grounds for refusing the recognition related to the ‘irreconcilability’ that the Brussels I Regulation (Recast) confines to ‘judgments’. Put it differently, protecting res judicata of arbitral awards through the public policy exception would not entail an issue of ‘irreconcilability’ in terms of Article 45(1)(c) and (d), and would be consistent with the arbitration exclusion.

From a wider perspective, the binomial ‘res judicata – public policy’ helps the Brussels I Regulation (Recast) and arbitration coexist, including by securing the right interplay between the Regulation and the 1958 New York Convention.

Just as it may work under the Brussels I Regulation (Recast) to protect res judicata of arbitral awards, the binomial ‘res judicata – public policy’ may work, in fact, under Article V(2)(b) of the 1958 New York Convention in the reverse direction of protecting res judicata of judgments. Article V(2)(b) allows the competent authority in the requested State to refuse recognition or enforcement of an award found to be contrary to the public policy of that State. This may occur where the award is ‘irreconcilable’ with judgments having res judicata in the requested Member State, including foreign judgments that have been recognized therein under the Brussels I Regulation (Recast).

The author of this post is Lydia Lundstedt, Senior lecturer at the Stockholm University.


Jurisdiction over foreign patent disputes is again the subject of two new requests for preliminary rulings by the Swedish Patent and Market Court of Appeals. The latest referral, BSH Hausgeräte (C-339/22), concerns the scope of Article 24(4) of Regulation No 1215/2012 (Brussels I bis Regulation) with respect to infringement disputes when the invalidity of a foreign patent is raised as a defence. It also concerns the potential “reflexive effect” of Article 24(4) in relation to patents registered in third countries.

The first question reads as follows (my translation):

Is Article 24(4) of Regulation (EU) 1215/2012 of 12 December 2012 on jurisdiction and the recognition and enforcement of judgments in civil and commercial matters to be interpreted so that the words ‘proceedings concerned with the registration or validity of patents . . .irrespective of whether the issue is raised by way of an action or as a defence,’ mean that a national court which, in accordance with Article 4(1) of that regulation, has established its jurisdiction to hear an infringement action no longer has such jurisdiction to determine the infringement action if an objection is raised that the patent in question is invalid, or is that provision to be interpreted as meaning that the national court only lacks jurisdiction to determine the invalidity objection?

The second (related) question is (my translation):

Is the answer to question 1 affected by the existence of provisions in national law, similar to those in the second paragraph of Section 61 of the [Swedish] Patent Act, which stipulate that an invalidity objection raised in an infringement action requires the defendant to bring a separate action for a declaration of invalidity in order to be admissible?

The third question concerning the potential “reflexive effect” of Article 24(4) reads (my translation):

Is Article 24(4) of the Regulation to be interpreted as applying in relation to a court in a third country, that is to say, in the present case so that it also confers exclusive jurisdiction on the courts of Turkey for the part of the European patent validated there?

The background is that the German company BSH Hausgeräte GmbH brought proceedings before the Swedish Patent and Market Court against the Swedish company Aktiebolaget Electrolux for the infringement of its European patents validated in Austria, Germany, Spain, France, UK, Greece, Italy, Netherlands, Sweden, and Turkey. Electrolux responded by alleging that the foreign patents were invalid and that the Swedish court therefore lacked jurisdiction to hear the infringement actions concerning the foreign patents.

Electrolux argued that the wording of Article 24(4) of Brussels I Regulation, which codifies the CJEU ruling in GAT (C-4/03), clearly covers infringement actions in which invalidity objections have been raised. It argued further that infringement and invalidity cannot be separated because a valid patent is a prerequisite for an infringement. In addition, Electrolux argued that there was nothing to prevent it from raising invalidity objections before the Swedish court and that the second paragraph of Section 61 of the Swedish Patent Act, which requires an invalidity objection to be raised as an independent action and not merely as an objection in an infringement action, only concerns Swedish patents. In addition, Electrolux argued that pursuant to Article 8 of Regulation (EC) No 864/2007 (Rome II), Swedish law was not applicable and that Swedish law could not either be applied by analogy.

BSH argued that the Swedish court had jurisdiction over the infringement actions pursuant to Article 4 of the Brussels I bis Regulation based on Electrolux’s domicile and the Swedish court did not lose this jurisdiction because Electrolux contested the patents’ validity. It argued further that its action principally concerned infringement, not invalidity so Article 24 and 27 of the Brussels I bis Regulation were not engaged. In addition, BSH argued that pursuant to the second paragraph of Article 61 of the Swedish Patent Act, the court should disregard Electrolux’s invalidity objections unless Electrolux brought separate invalidity actions in the countries where the patents are validated. In such case, BSH argued that the Swedish court could stay the infringement proceedings until the invalidity proceedings became final. Lastly, BSH argued that Article 24(4) of the Brussels I bis Regulation did not apply in relation to third countries.

The Swedish Patent and Market Court held that it lacked jurisdiction over the foreign patents. In short, it held that Article 24(4) applied when invalidity objections were raised in an infringement action concerning foreign patents and that the fact that Electrolux had yet to bring invalidity actions in the countries of registration was not relevant. In addition, the court held that it must also decline jurisdiction over the Turkish part of the European patent because Article 24(4) of the Brussels I bis Regulation was an internationally accepted principle.

BSH appealed to the Patent and Market Court of Appeals. The Court found that the wording of Article 24(4) did not clearly indicate whether it covered infringement actions once invalidity had been raised in objection and that this question was not answered by the GAT decision or the CJEU’s subsequent case law. Concerning the application of Article 24(4) to third country patents, the Court observed that it was not clear from the wording of Article 24(4) of the Brussels I Regulation whether it applied, in contrast to Articles 33 and 34 of the Brussels I Regulation on lis pendens and related actions, which clearly state that that they apply in relation to third countries. The Court also noted that this question had not been answered in Owusu (C-281/02), where the CJEU held that Article 2 of the Brussels Convention (now Article 4 Brussels I bis Regulation) on jurisdiction of the basis of domicile applied to disputes involving relations between the courts of a Contracting State and a non-Contracting State.

An earlier referral, IRnova (C-399/21) also concerns the scope of Article 24(4) of the Brussels I Regulation, but this time in the context of a patent entitlement action when the basis for the action is that the claimant is the true inventor.

The question reads as follows:

Is an action seeking a declaration of better entitlement to an invention, based on a claim of inventorship or co-inventorship according to national patent applications and patents registered in a non-Member State, covered by exclusive jurisdiction for the purposes of Article 24(4) of Regulation (EU) No 1215/2012 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 12 December 2012 on jurisdiction and the recognition and enforcement of judgments in civil and commercial matters?

The background is that the Swedish company IRnova AB brought proceedings before the Swedish Patent and Market Court against the Swedish company FLIR Systems AB for entitlement to patent applications and patents that FLIR Systems AB had applied for and registered in third countries (USA and China) by FLIR Systems AB. The companies had previously had a business relationship. IRnova alleged that one of its employees had developed the inventions, or at least, had made such a substantial contribution to the inventions that he was to be regarded as a co-inventor and that IRnova was therefore the rightful owner. FLIR Systems AB objected to the Swedish court’s jurisdiction and the Patent and Market Court dismissed IRnova’s action. The court held that Article 24(4) of the Brussels I bis Regulation was an internationally accepted principle and therefore should apply in relation to third countries. The court held further that an entitlement action based on inventorship was so closely related to the registration and invalidity of patents that Article 24(4) was engaged.

IRnova AB appealed to the Patent and Market Court of Appeal. The Court noted that the answer to this question was not clear from the CJEU’s previous case law including Duijnstee (288/82), where the CJEU held that Article 16 of the Brussels Convention (now Article 24(4) Brussels I bis Regulation) does not apply to a dispute between an employee for whose invention a patent has been applied for or obtained and his employer, where the dispute relates to their respective rights in that patent arising out of the contract of employment.

The author of this post is Etienne Farnoux, who is a professor of law at the University of Strasbourg. He has recently published his doctoral thesis on the policy considerations that underlie the rules of international jurisdiction, with a special focus on torts (Les considérations substantielles dans le règlement de la compétence internationale des juridictions – Réflexion autour de la matière délictuelle).


The thesis proposes to question the classical locational or proximity-based analysis of international adjudicatory jurisdiction in tort disputes. It is a commonplace idea – one that can be found both in European and national (French) private international law – that the rules of international jurisdiction are based on the geographical localization of the dispute, also known as the principle of proximity. If one thinks of international adjudicatory jurisdiction as being a question of territorial limitation of a State’s adjudicatory authority, it makes sense to rely on the localization of the dispute (or elements thereof) to organize it in a neutral way. The specific jurisdiction rule in matters relating to tort based on the location of the harmful event (art. 7 para. 2 of Brussels I recast regulation) perfectly embodies this locational approach to international judicial jurisdiction.

However, this proximity-based approach is faced with dire difficulties, namely the growing virtualization of entire swathes of human activities and the rise in crossborder private relations. More fundamentally, the vision of international jurisdiction as being based on the principle of proximity pays little attention to the notion that international jurisdiction is an organization by the State of its duty to render justice, be it with regards to crossborder private relations. The thesis opposes the locational analysis with a new approach to international jurisdiction that puts forward the substantive considerations specific to the underlying issue of the dispute, considerations that have remained at least partly hidden until now. In this perspective, the rules of international jurisdiction should reflect policy considerations which can be observed at two levels: at the level of procedural justice and at the level of substantive justice. It is the goal of this work to study the influence of these policy considerations on the rules of international jurisdiction with regards to crossborder tort cases.

As the subtitle indicates, the demonstration focuses on tort matters. Indeed, international litigation relating to civil liability, such as actions for damages against international polluters, transnational corporations responsible for human rights violations, corporations issuing securities on the financial markets, as well as cyber-torts, highlight in a particularly striking manner the need to base jurisdiction on something other than the location of the material elements of the dispute. Although the demonstration focuses particularly on the rules of jurisdiction in tort, it is not limited to them: it allows itself more general incursions into the system of jurisdiction in civil and commercial matters (in French, American and European Union private international law).

The thesis is articulated in two parts: the demonstration of the inadequacy of proximity as a basis for international jurisdiction (first part) leads to an outline of a concept of international jurisdiction based on substantive considerations (second part).

A Critical Assessment of the Principle of Proximity

The first part is devoted to a critical approach of the principle of proximity both from a historical point of view and a functional point of view. It examines each of the objectives pursued by the jurisdiction rules, based on the principle of proximity: evidential effectiveness; foreseeability; administrability of solutions. The weaknesses of the objectives of evidential efficiency and predictability leads to doubts about the role of the location operation in determining international jurisdiction. A study of the case law of the European Court of Justice on the subject of article 7(2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation reveals an instrumentalization of the location of the material elements of the dispute. This instrumentalization can be observed from the very beginnings of European case law on torts in the solutions given for complex torts with monolocalized harm (hypothesis of the Mines de Potasse judgment) and plurilocalized harm (hypothesis of the Fiona Shevill judgment) and for torts with continuous harm (hypothesis of the Dumez, Marinari and Kronhofer judgments). In all these cases, territorial location is manipulated, for purely argumentative purposes, so as to arrive at a solution which is not in any way dictated by location. This phenomenon is further accentuated by the growing immateriality of human activities, which can be observed in economic matters and through the figure of cyber-crimes. The loss of materiality of at least part of the elements of the dispute reveals the artificiality of the territorial localization operation and brings to light the balancing of interests at the heart of the jurisdictional question, between the interests of the alleged victim and those of the alleged perpetrator of the harm.

Substantive Considerations Underlying Rules of Jurisdiction

The second part is devoted to the study of this balancing of interests, apprehended through the notion of substantive considerations and made possible by the deconstruction of the principle of proximity. These considerations can be considered at two levels: that of procedural justice and that of truly substantive justice.

At the level of procedural justice, the most striking phenomenon is the decline of the traditional objective of jurisdictional protection of the defendant, around the principle of forum rei, and its progressive reversal in favor of the plaintiff, resulting in the rise of forum actoris. This phenomenon is complex and sometimes ambiguous because of the contradictory orientations adopted, as shown by the contradictory case law interpreting Article 7(2), as well as the difficult question of the regime of international jurisdiction, and in particular the forum non conveniens. At the level of substantive justice, the rise of the promotion of the interests of the plaintiff can be understood when set against the traditional normative and remedial functions of civil liability, both of which militate in favor of the alleged victim (which presupposes the exclusion of actions denying liability). As the case law of the Court of Justice still explicitly refuses to recognize such a protective function to forum delicti, this clarification is necessary and allows to look realistically at avenues for reform.

Looking prospectively, the risk of giving in without restraint to this favor for the claimant, seen in substantive terms as the alleged victim, is to open the way to anarchic forum shopping. A middle way would be to abolish the forum delicti and open a forum victimae instead, the jurisdiction of the alleged victim’s domicile. This forum can be envisaged in two ways. It could be constructed as an ordinary forum in tort, provided that a plausibility check on the alleged victim’s claims is introduced to combat procedural harassment. If this proposal were to be considered too bold, given the persuasive force that the consideration of the defendant’s jurisdictional protection continues to exert, it is possible to conceive of this forum victimae as a forum for the protection of the allegedly weak party. To a certain extent, this seems to be the path taken, albeit implicitly, by the case law of the Court of Justice, notably in the eDate and Kolassa judgments.

This substantive reading of the rule of jurisdiction is transversal and not exclusive of more occasional and more salient incursions of a substantial interest of the forum which will make the rule of jurisdiction subject to the pursuit of a substantive policy. This substantive interest of the forum may take the form of legislative policies (loi de police) or fundamental values (public policy) of the forum. To study the influence of overriding mandatory provisions on the rules of jurisdiction, it is necessary to go beyond the dogma of the independence of legislative and judicial jurisdictions, affirmed in a Monster Cable decision by the French Cour de Cassation. The outcome may be twofold. It may open the possibility, in some cases, of a purposeful correspondence between legislative competence and jurisdictional competence. It also militates in favor of the imperative nature of adjudicatory jurisdiction when an overriding mandatory rule is applicable. However, mandatory rules are not the only substantive elements that have an influence on the determination of international jurisdiction. The fundamental values of the forum are also likely to leave their mark on the rules of jurisdiction. The emergence of the forum of necessity is a cross-cutting example as it concerns access to justice, but other fundamental rights may be affected, notably personal freedom. The violation of such a right could give French courts universal civil jurisdiction to entertain a possible action for damages.

Finally, the thesis moves to draw the consequences of the demonstration beyond the rules of direct international jurisdiction, in the relations between the jurisdictional organizations of different States. In this perspective, the substantive approach to the rules of jurisdiction calls into question the international fungibility of courts, a precondition to a jurisdictional system such as the Brussels system. Whether this fungibility really exists or not is open to debate, and the ambiguous role of the forum delicti – merely justified by location but playing the part of a tool of protection of the claimant – should be put in this context. In this perspective the substantial approach to jurisdiction also helps to conceptualize the debate around the universalization of the Brussels system and the coexistence of several systems of jurisdiction for a single judicial system (Brussels I and national law), as well as the meaning and relevance of the control of indirect jurisdiction.

Some of the conclusions of this thesis have been summarized in English in an article entitled ‘Delendum est Forum Delicti? Towards the jurisdictional protection of the alleged victim in cross-border torts’ published in B. Hess, K. Lenaerts and V. Richard (ed.), The 50th anniversary of the European law of civil procedure, Baden-Baden: Nomos 2020, (259) p. 263 et seq.

The author of this post is Jachin Van Doninck, Lecturer in civil procedure, private international law and ADR at the Vrije Universiteit Brussel.


At the final conference of the Judgtrust project in The Hague, some ten days ago, two decisions of the ECJ on the Brussels I bis Regulation took flak from more than one speaker: Wikingerhof and Toto.

Both of these decisions have already received their fair share of attention in these columns: here (by the late Peter Mankowski, including links to the other contributions dedicated to the same judgment) and here.

The writing of a recently published casenote on the Wikingerhof judgment has nonetheless left me wondering whether the criticism directed at said judgment isn’t missing the mark.

As a reminder, through Wikingerhof, the ECJ attempted to clarify its earlier Brogsitter ruling on delineating matters relating to contract and matters relating to tort for the purpose of applying the heads of jurisdiction under art. 7 point 1 and 7 point 2 of the Brussels I bis Regulation respectively.

Where Brogsitter could be interpreted as considering it sufficient for a claim made in tort under national law to be contractual for the purpose of Brussels I where the conduct complained of may be considered a breach of the terms of the contract (ECJ, para 29, my emphasis), the ECJ held in Wikingerhof that where it does not appear indispensable to examine the content of the contract in order to assess whether the conduct is lawful or unlawful, the cause of the action is a matter relating to tort within the meaning of art. 7.2 Brussels I Recast (ECJ, at para 33, again with my emphasis).

In retrospect it always seemed unlikely that the ECJ would have accepted a full and complete absorption of the forum delicti by the forum contractus in cases of concurrent causes of action, i.e. when a contracting party invokes the infringement of a general legal obligation under competition law as was the case in Wikingerhof. Through Wikingerhof, the ECJ restores the balance between forum contractus and forum delicti in the case of concurrent obligations by setting out a clear criterion, namely whether the contract is the yardstick for review (forum contractus) or merely the subject of review (forum delicti). No surprise either in seeing the potential fora being multiplied then: that has been the steady flow of the ECJ case law on art. 7.2 since the Bier-stance was adopted more than 40 years ago (E. Farnoux, ‘Delendum est Forum Delicti? Towards the jurisdictional protection of the alleged victim in cross-border torts’ in B. Hess, K. Lenaerts en V. Richard (red.), The 50th anniversary of the European law of civil procedure, Baden-Baden: Nomos 2020, (259) p. 263 et seq.).

But most interesting, and least appreciated in my opinion, is the Court’s method in reaching that result. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise though. Less than a year before, in its VKI v. TVP judgment, the ECJ had been asked whether article 1(2)(f) of the Rome I Regulation should be interpreted as excluding from the scope of that regulation contractual obligations based on a trust agreement for the purposes of administering shares in a limited partnership. Was this a corporate matter beyond the reach of Rome I?

In addressing the issue, the ECJ, following its advocate-general Saugmandsgaard Øe, focused on the cause of action of the proceedings:

The action for an injunction brought by the VKI concerns the unfairness and therefore the validity of certain terms of the trust agreements at issue. Therefore, the questions arising from the case in the main proceedings fall within the field of lex contractus and therefore of the Rome I Regulation (ECJ, at para 37).

When asked whether Brussels I Recast provides a forum delicti when the plaintiff seeks an injunction against the use of contractual terms because they are allegedly based on an abuse of a dominant position by the defendant, the ECJ and its advocate-general Saugmandsgaard Øe adopted that same reasoning.

The test again lies in the cause of action:

In particular, as the Advocate General observed in point 90 of his Opinion, the court hearing the action must decide whether a claim between contracting parties is connected to matters relating to a contract, within the meaning of point 1 of Article 7 of Regulation No 1215/2012, or to matters relating to tort or delict, within the meaning of point 2 of Article 7 of that regulation, by reference to the obligation, whether contractual or a matter relating to tort, delict or quasi-delict, which constitutes the cause of action (ECJ, at para 31).

Asked to interpret sources of European private international law, the ECJ’s answer has time and again revolved around the word ‘autonomous’. Through Wikingerhof, the ECJ has now demonstrated that such autonomous interpretation of EU instruments is no mere recipe for haphazard case by case reasoning but also involves an exercise in qualification, thereby addressing the following question: which law imposes itself through the subject matter of the claim and the legally relevant facts underlying it, i.e. the cause of action? That approach warrants more credit than is currently being granted.

On 23 February 2022, the proposal for a directive of the European Parliament and of the Council on Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence was released.

In recent years, many experts have expressed their views on the Union’s ambition to regulate corporate due diligence comprehensively and in a binding manner at the EU level. The private international law (PIL) aspects have received particular attention (e.g. here and more globally here), including on our blog (e.g. here, here and here) and others (here and here).

Indeed, a first central issue is the spatial applicability of the (forthcoming) EU instrument so that it effectively covers transnational (harmful) conduct of multinational companies, incorporated in the Union or active in the EU market (see Article 2, §1 and §2). Another major issue concerns remedies for the damage caused by companies through their supply chain, to victims and to the environment. The Directive proposal provides for rules on liability for violation of the due diligence requirements laid down by the text.

In this context, what are the main solutions of the Directive proposal on the PIL aspects? Here are some brief elements of the response that experts on the matter will analyse in more detail during the negotiations of the text (see already Geert Van Calster thoughts)

Private Enforcement Scheme

One of the main objectives of the Directive proposal is to “improve access to remedies for those affected by adverse human rights and environmental impacts of corporate behaviour” (p. 3). Remedies and more globally enforcement rules are indeed a key-factor for normative effectiveness. Private parties should be empowered to report concerning behaviours of multinational companies or misconducts (see Articles 9 and 19 of the Directive proposal). As a crucial step, victims should be able to sue the company liable for any damage caused within the Union’s territory or, most frequently, outside the Union through its value chain. The Directive proposal provides for a common civil liability regime (although incomplete). This is a great improvement, in particular for foreign victims who could seek remedies within the EU (Article 22).

Against this background, the private enforcement regime remains dependent on the jurisdiction of a “European forum” (i.e. among national courts of EU Member States) and, then, on the application of EU law.

No Specific Provision on Jurisdiction in the Union

The Directive proposal provides for a private enforcement scheme but without mentioning any specific rules on jurisdiction. Hence, Brussels I bis Regulation will remain the applicable legal framework within the EU judicial area.

EU-based Companies

The jurisdictional rules of the Regulation are, in principle, applicable once the defendant is domiciled in the Union, regardless of whether there is any other connection with the EU legal order (Article 4). When the defendant is a legal person, it lays down a flexible concept of domicile; it may be the statutory seat of the company, its central administration or its principal place of business (Article 63). In the present case, it means that the mother or ordering company located in the Union may be sued by any victims before a “European forum” for compensation of losses suffered in a third country. In that respect, the solution follows the rationale of the home country control.

However, the situation would be less effective if the victims also decide to sue, as co-defendant, other companies of the value chain of the European undertaking (e.g. subsidiaries or business partners), when the former are not established in the Union. In such a case, the Brussels I bis Regulation is not applicable pursuant to its Article 8,(1). It will be for the national laws of Member States to determine the jurisdiction of their courts. This is regrettable; the discrepancies between national rules may weaken the EU provisions on remedies. Some courts will be competent, others not, in equivalent disputes.

Nonetheless, the lack of legal approximation here is not inconsistent with the European enforcement regime, since the latter is limited for now – under Article 22 of the Directive proposal – to civil liability claims against the company in charge of the due diligence requirements pursuant to Article 7 and 8 of the text. Hence, national law remains applicable to the civil liability of “subsidiaries or of any direct and indirect business partners in the value chain” (Article 22, §3 of the directive proposal). The lack of a uniform substantive liability regime in the forthcoming EU instrument, directly applicable to these potential co-defendants, mitigates or, at least, may explain, the absence of a ground jurisdiction based on EU law in such circumstances.

Non-EU-based Companies

A much more problematic situation concerns foreign companies – i.e. domiciled outside the Union – that are economically active in the internal market and, in that respect, covered by an EU due diligence obligation. The jurisdictional rules of the Brussels I bis Regulation are in principle not applicable, even if the losses were suffered on the Union’s territory. Private enforcement will depend on the national laws of EU Member States on the jurisdiction issue. European remedies are therefore likely to remain totally ineffective before certain domestic courts of the Union where no specific ground for jurisdiction, such as a forum necessitatis, exists. Victims will be treated differently in the European judicial area; some of them will not be able to benefit from remedies. It also creates a severe discrepancy between European and foreign companies. The latter may avoid private enforcement as a result of this lacuna in the European legal system.

A solution may be found in the obligation of foreign companies to have a representative in the Union pursuant to Article 16 of the Directive proposal. It could be argued that the European domicile of this representative, set up for the public enforcement of the EU due diligence regime should also apply for private enforcement, based on the civil liability regime of Article 22 (see Article 16, §4 on public enforcement, mentioning the cooperation with supervisory authorities). In that regard, the preliminary explanation of the Directive proposal describes quite broadly the role of those mandated authorised representatives; they may be addressed by a competent authority of a Member State on all issues necessary inter alia for “[the] enforcement of legal acts issued in relation to this Directive” (page 25).

In a more effective way, a specific ground of jurisdiction could be introduced. It could be the forum of the Member States “in which the company generated most of its net turnover in the Union in the financial year preceding the last financial year” (Article 16, §3). This is the criterion laid down by the Directive proposal for the designation of the authorised representative in the Union. Therefore, it could be easily transposed to international competence, linking public and private enforcement schemes, as already suggested above.

No Specific Choice of Law Rules (either)

The extraterritoriality of the forthcoming EU substantive rules on due diligence is not enough (legally speaking) to guarantee their application before “European fora” when damage was suffered in third countries. In that respect, the Directive proposal opts for the mandatory nature of the civil liability regime laid down in Article 22: it is “of overriding mandatory application in cases where the law applicable to claims to that effect is not the law of a Member State” (Article 22, 5).

From a PIL perspective, this formulation may be seen as ambiguous. First, the mandatory nature under EU law of all the text on corporate due diligence should be made explicit (even if it may be seen as obvious). Second, regarding the civil liability regime it is about its overriding mandatory dimension, whatever law is applicable, since this technique applies ex ante, before any conflict-of-laws reasoning. At the same time, it will still be necessary for the national courts (in EU Member States) to determine the law applicable to the case. Indeed, the Directive proposal does not lay down a complete and fully uniform regime of liability. More protective regimes under national law could prevail (recital 59) and some questions are referred to national law (for instance, the burden of proof of the absence of misconduct of the company, see recital 58).

Against this background, the Rome II Regulation will remain applicable for cross-border disputes concerning non-contractual obligations. The Regulation lays down a provision on overriding mandatory provisions (Article 16). It could therefore provide for the unilateral application of the national law of the competent court (its lex fori), which contains the EU due diligence duty and its attached civil liability regime (as already proposed by Giesela Rühl). However, it remains to be expressly clarified in the proposal whether the European provisions concerned – including (where appropriate) their implementation in the national laws of the Member States – have such an international mandatory nature.

In any case, PIL issues are crucial and condition the effectiveness (and therefore the success) of EU law (including EU values) beyond the Union’s borders in this area.

The author of this post is Martina Mantovani, Phd Candidate at the University Panthéon-Assas.


Climate change litigation has increased dramatically since 2015, the year of the Paris Agreement. A 2021 Report drafted by the Grantham Research Institute on Climate Change and the Environment inventoried more than 1.000 new cases brought to court over the past six years. Among these, a specific type of disputes is gaining considerable momentum: those initiated by children and youth applicants.

While youth-led climate change litigation may at first appear rather “niche”, a closer look at the number and types of cases brought in the name of children demonstrates that this phenomenon is all but negligible for its size, its geographical scope, and its impact on domestic legal systems. A blog post authored by Lorenzo Gradoni and myself for Verfassungsblog and Völkerrechtsblog examines this strand of climate change litigation in a North-South perspective, offering insights on its origin, actors, drivers and prospects.

From the standpoint of the private international lawyer, it is worth remarking that just one of out of the 76 judicial complaints of this kind speaks the language of conflicts of laws. Milieudefensie et al. v. Royal Dutch Shell plc., decided by the Hague District Court in May 2021, is a class action brought by seven NGOs – including Young Friends of the Earth – and 17,379 individuals against a private corporation having its principal place of business in the Netherlands. The case raised the question as to whether a private company can violate a duty of care and human rights obligations by failing to take adequate action to curb greenhouse gas emissions. Before moving on to the merits of a case that presented several cross-border elements, the Hague District Court had to assess its own jurisdiction over the defendant and to identify the applicable law. The Brussels I bis and the Rome II Regulation were deemed applicable to the case at hand.

Considering the outcome of this case – a big victory for the plaintiffs – one may wonder why only 1.3 per cent of the examined cases borrows private international law (PIL) techniques to advance the fight against climate change. The marginal role played by PIL until now may seem surprising, especially when compared to the much bigger part reserved to public international law, whose arguments and discourse feature in most of the domestic complaints and star in some prominent cases brought before the European Court of Human Rights, the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights, the UN Committee on the Rights of the Child (CRC), with a possible debut before the International Court of Justice.

This post sheds some light on the broader phenomenon of youth-led climate change litigation, while addressing at once the plausible reasons behind the performance gap between private and public international law in this field.

Strategic Litigation All Around

Why choosing children and youth as applicants? That’s among the burning questions raised by youth-led climate change litigation. And, indeed, the background of the cases belonging to this trend suggests that we are faced, in this regard, with a strategic move made by the promoters of this litigation. Even though most of the examined cases have been filed by children and youth in their own name, these received substantial support (not only legal, but often also organisational and financial) from several NGOs, who place a special emphasis on their role as initiators of strategic litigation.

The American NGO Our Children’s Trust (OCT) deserves a special mention, being the undisputed forerunner of this kind of litigation. Having brought, since 2011, a great number of actions in the US and consistently acting as an advisor in high-profile cases brought in other jurisdictions,  OCT defines itself as “a non-profit public interest law firm that provides strategic, campaign-based legal services to youth from diverse backgrounds to secure their legal rights to a safe climate”. The “highly strategic legal campaign” this organization is leading “includes targeted media, education, and public engagement work to support the youths’ legal actions”. In the same vein, the Centre for Environmental Rights, who is behind the first South African youth-led constitutional case, “engages in strategic litigation, advocacy, and supports community groups in defending their right to a healthy environment though training and other support initiatives”. Plan B, the initiator of several youth-led climate change cases in the UK, “has been established to support strategic legal action against climate change” with a view to “harnessing market forces towards a better future for us all”. (All italics of this paragraph are added for emphasis). ​ ​​

Strategy is the deliberate search for a plan of action that will develop a competitive advantage and compound it, with a view to facilitate the achievement of the envisioned objectives. These goals emerge with particular clarity from the definition of “strategic litigation” given by the Grantham Research Institute on Climate Change and the Environment, i.e.,  lawsuits “where the claimants’ motives for bringing the cases go beyond the concerns of the individual litigant and aim to bring about some broader societal shift”, such as “advancing climate policies, creating public awareness, or changing the behaviour of government or industry actors” (here, at 12).

When thinking in terms of legal strategy, child and youth applicants may bring along an important competitive advantage, insofar as they can advance specific arguments both on the merits and on procedural grounds that would be either unavailable or not as compelling if put forth by adults (more on this later). But there could be more to youth applicants than sheer legal advantages. In our blogpost, Lorenzo and I suggest that youth-led litigation may be a sophisticate implementation of a broader strategy that straddles law and behavioural sciences, as expressed by Lovejoy’s Law, a presumptive law of social psychology named, curiously enough, after Helen Lovejoy, the Reverend’s wife in The Simpsons. According to Lovejoy’s Law, the love for children is likely to be invoked as an emotional trump card when opponents in a political dispute run out of rational arguments. Said otherwise, it is hard(er) to say no to children, and adults might be more willing to make compromises for the sake of their kids than they would normally make for their own good. Youth-led litigation might therefore create higher engagement, both in the members of the presiding court and in the general public, in keeping with the strategies pursued by the promoting NGOs.

The Absence of PIL from Youth-Led Litigation

None of the above explains why youth-led litigation has not embraced PIL in the fight against climate change. On the contrary, such omission remains baffling for two reasons.

First, the effects of Lovejoy’s law, if any, could be felt in a trial against a private multinational corporation just as well as in an action against a sovereign state, a type of action which is vastly prevalent in current youth-led climate change litigation. In this respect, it is interesting to note that the complaint in Milieudefensie evokes this Lovejoyan motive, when it affirms that “[c]limate change is an urgent issue. Not only are we already confronted with the consequences every day at present but our children’s future is at stake too. […] Milieudefensie senses that responsibility and it, therefore, makes climate justice the central theme of this new General Policy Plan (here, § 153). The action brought against Royal Dutch Shell aimed at implementing said Plan (at § 154).

Second, PIL has traditionally given the nod to strategic litigation, forum shopping being, according to some scholars, among the most unforgettable notions of this field of law, that keeps lingering even in the minds of those who are largely uninterested in the subject (here, at 49).

The absence of PIL from the toolbox of youth-led climate change litigation has seemingly little to do with the alleged inability of this field of law of addressing global governance issues in a meaningful way. Rather, the explanation appears more “down to earth”, one may say, insofar as it may stem, on the one side, from the particular way in which this strategy is conceived and implemented at the global level and, on the other side, from the current state of climate change legislation.

As for the latter, the statements made by ClientEarth – one of the most important NGOs in the field – are particularly revealing of the dissatisfaction with the current state of climate change legislation. In a section named “How we work”, this NGO distinguishes between “shaping” and “enforcing the law”, suggesting that much works needs to be done on both accounts. This explains why most of the efforts made until aims at filling the gaps of the extant legal framework, either by holding states accountable for commitments made in international agreements (rather than in ad hoc national legislation) or by proposing innovative and expansionist readings of traditional legal notions of domestic (constitutional) law, with a view to deploying them in relation to the “new” problems created by climate change (e.g. the use of the public trust doctrine in the US: see here, at 875). In the words of ClientEarth, the promoters of this litigation: “know how to use the legal system as a lever of change, how to enforce it and how to win” and thy do “not shy away from challenging governments and businesses in court”.

Lawsuits of this kind are situated at the crossroads between “shaping” and “enforcing” domestic laws. This is evidenced (a) firstly, by the lack of global consensus, among the applicants, on very important aspects of such litigation, such as the criterion for apportioning the burden of mitigating measures among states and, (b) secondly, by the emphasis placed by NGOs on the efforts made to adopt, for the purposes of human rights-based litigation, a common (ie global) scientific standard regarding emission reductions, on the assumption that such standard is not satisfactorily embodied in current laws (correspondence with NGOs on file with the author). Against this backdrop, choosing to pursue the action against states seems the most logical way forward, fuelled by the hope of triggering Neubauer-like scenarios, whereby a big win in a (constitutional) forum is followed by a wide-ranging adaptation of existing legislation. Once the desired scientific standard is enshrined in domestic laws, cases against non-compliant businesses may be less cumbersome and become a more straightforward expression of a strategy based on the sheer “enforcement of laws”, in its “public” and “private” variations.

The main reason for the absence of PIL from youth-led climate change litigation lies, precisely, in the choice of defendant made by the “first generation” of claims. A case – even a civil claim – brought against a state in relation to its (sovereign) environmental policy choices will never give rise to issues of jurisdiction, understood as the identification of the competent (state) courts. In fact, this sovereign will have to be summoned before its own courts, in order to prevent the use of state immunity as a foreseeable defence. In the same vein, when the claim questions the quality or the adequacy of a state’s legislation, or invokes the responsibility of said state in relation to an alleged violation of its obligations or duties of care, there is no real issue of applicable law. This will always be the law of the defendant state, eventually read in the light of pertinent international norms. In other words, PIL has not much to say on these matters, the international fungibility between (state) courts and between (state) laws that lies at its core being plainly and incurably lacking in cases presenting this specific conformation.

This is not to say that PIL will not play any role in the future. A closer look at the genesis and conception of the litigation strategy behind the youth-led cases brought until now reveals its highly experimental nature. This strategy is built on a process of trial and error: small and bigger changes are tried and tested, on an experimental basis, in subsequent cases, those that are beneficial being gradually transposed and tested in other jurisdictions. A similar pattern will likely be replicated as regards the choice of defendants: in this sense, the win in Milieudefensie may pave the way to other youth-led climate change cases brought against oil and gas corporations.

PIL Moving into the Spotlight?

Intimations of a change in this direction come directly from the world of NGOs. The Children’s Investment Fund Foundation is “the world’s largest philanthropy that focuses specifically on improving children’s lives” and counts “climate change” among its priorities. It is currently among the major funders of youth-led climate change litigation, that it backs with a $ 83,6 million grant. More precisely, a $ 26,4 million grant is tied to the “ClientEarth Phase III” project, which supports “strategic litigation to accelerate Europe’s low carbon transition and secure Europe’s climate leadership by putting it on a Paris-aligned trajectory”, and $ 21,9 millions are allocated to the File project, which supports similar litigation “in multiple jurisdictions”. It is also worth stressing that the Children’s Investment Fund Foundation has recently been the recipient of some criticism: despite having being created to improve “the lives of children in developing countries who live in poverty”, this organisation has, more recently, allegedly “been used … to pass money towards environmentalist campaigns and other foundations pushing for legal action against energy companies due to the cost of climate change”.

The assumption underpinning this criticism is, at best, debatable: legal actions against energy companies in rich countries might well have indirect beneficial effects on the lives of children in developing countries. However, what is important for the purpose of this blogpost is the acknowledgment of a shift in the flow of funds, that seems to favour, at present, litigation directed against private corporations. Consequently, PIL will play an increasingly important role: owing to a variety of factors – such as the breadth of the activity of transnational corporations, the geographical complexities of their corporate structure, the origin of the applicants, the ubiquity of the damage caused by CO2 emissions, etc – these cases will likely present a “foreign element”, triggering questions about jurisdiction, applicable law and, why not, enforcement of foreign civil judgments.

Transposable Legal Strategies?

It is hard to foresee whether this prospective “private strand” of climate change litigation will turn out to be similar to the cases directed against states In cases brought against states before constitutional and international courts, child and youth applicants may be in a more favourable position when arguing both on the merits of the case and on its admissibility.

Concerning admissibility, child applicants might more convincingly plead for the setting aside of the requirement of the prior exhaustion of domestic remedies. While the CRC decisions in Sacchi may disprove this assumption, this is what the lawyers in Duarte Agostinho are trying to advance (here, § 40), given that, in applying this rule, the ECtHR has traditionally paid due regard to the “personal circumstances of the applicant” in order to prevent disproportionate obstacles to the effective exercise of the right of individual application under Article 34 of the Convention (here § 109 and 111). Concerning the merits, child and youth applicants may invoke, first, a principle of non-discrimination, whereby they shall be entitled to the same level of protection of fundamental rights afforded to prior and present generations of adult citizens. Second, they may allege a specific kind of damage. According to the constitutional complaint in Held v Montana, § 231, owing to their “unique physiological characteristics and vulnerabilities, and lack of autonomy and dependency on caregivers children are “more vulnerable to rights violations. Being“at a critical development stage in life, as their capacities evolve and their physiological and psychological maturity develops more rapidly than at any other time in life”, youth and children form part of “a separate suspect, or quasi-suspect, class in need of extraordinary protection“. While being specific to a constitutional complaint made under the equal protection clause, arguments of a similar kind could be also invoked within the framework of an action, such as the one put forth by Milieudefensie, aiming at imposing a “duty of care” upon corporations. This should therefore be especially stringent and more compelling vis-à-vis children and youths, as a special class of individuals in need of extraordinary protection.

One should also ask whether, in a lawsuit brought against a corporation, PIL would grant child and youth applicants any kind of comparable favor that is, one that would place them in a better position than an adult filing a comparable claim. In current law, the answer is in the negative. Concerning access to justice, only a few EU Regulations in the field of parental responsibility manifest a certain favor for the child as such, insofar as the sheer presence of the child on the territory of a Member State may, in exceptional circumstances, justify the exercise of jurisdiction by the authorities of that state (e.g. Article 11 of the Brussels IIter Regulation). Outside this particular case, the mere quality of being a child cannot be invoked to bend, in any way, the uniform rules of jurisdiction set by the EU legislator, ie to open a forum in Europe when there is none. The CJEU has confirmed, in case C-393/18 PPU, that the particular vulnerability of the child, deriving from his lack of decisional autonomy and his dependency vis-à-vis his caregivers, cannot serve as a basis for an extensive interpretation of the grounds of jurisdiction established by EU law.

This same argument should apply, a fortiori, in civil and commercial matters, which youth-led climate change litigation belongs to. Here, the principle of the best interests of the child is no longer at the forefront, and there is no detectable favor for younger applicants. As far as the Brussels Ibis and the Rome II Regulations are concerned, child and youth applicants are in the exact same position as an adult bringing a comparable claim. It is equally unlikely that the condition of dependency of the child vis-à-vis the caregivers could warrant the opening of a forum of necessity under domestic rules of PIL, on the basis that “proceedings abroad are impossible or cannot reasonably be required” (cf art. 3 of the Swiss law on PIL).

Nonetheless, there are good reasons to suspect that an increasing number of youth-led climate change cases against corporations will land in Europe in the near future. In fact, despite the neutral attitude adopted by PIL vis-à-vis child applicants, the procedural framework set out by EU law remains remarkably advantageous for the plaintiffs.

First, these could profit from the “hard-and fast” logic underpinning the rules of the Brussels Ibis Regulation, that makes establishing jurisdiction vis-à-vis a corporate defendant having its statutory seat, its central administration or its principal place of business in the EU a relatively straightforward affair, as evidenced by cases such as Luciano Lliuya v. RWE AG or Milieudefensieitself. Youth-led climate change litigation could also follow the trail blazed by the cases on social corporate responsibility and learn from this experience in order to attract, in that same European forum, eventual subsidiaries domiciled in third states. Second, in terms of applicable law, the EU legal framework might be particularly appealing in the light of the policy-oriented rule of conflict set out by Art. 7 of the Rome II Regulation, that grants the plaintiffs a choice between the law of the country where the damage occurred and that of the country of the unlawful event. This could point, in most cases, to the applicability of the law of a Member State, embodying the European acquis on environmental law and abiding to a fairly high standard of protection.

A thorough analysis of the advantages (and potential inconveniences) underpinning the rules of EU PIL is beyond the scope of this blog post. I formerly discussed the possible strategies employed to “open” a forum in the EU based on the Brussels Ibis Regulation here. For the rest, I gladly refer to the overview given here by Eduardo Álvarez-Armas. It should just be added that the recently published Proposal for a Directive on corporate sustainability due diligence might bring along a new, unprecedented advantage for child applicants who succeed in seizing a court in the EU. The proposed Directive – which purports to effectively contribute to combating climate change: cf Recital 50 – seeks to introduce, inter alia, a uniform rule on civil liability for the violation of the (also uniform) obligations of due diligence set out by the proposed instrument. This rule would be applicable also to companies established outside the EU “where 80-90 % of the harm of EU production may occur”, provided that the turnover criterion set out in Art. 2(2) of the proposed Directive is complied with (see here, at 8). Equally remarkable is the fact that the rule on civil liability shall be “of overriding mandatory application in cases where the law applicable to claims to that effect is not the law of a Member State” (Art. 22 (5) of the Proposal). This civil liability rule will therefore complement the law identified under Art. 7 of the Rome II Regulation, in cases where the latter provision will not, due to the specific features of the harmful event, point to the law of a Member State. This plaintiff-friendly legal framework, coupled with the existence of child-specific and geographically targeted funding within the framework of the ClientEarth Phase III project, will likely turn Europe into the hub of youth-led climate change litigation against corporations in the coming years.

The author of this post is Zhen Chen, PhD researcher of Private International Law at the University of Groningen.


Consumer contracts are subject to protective choice of law rules both in China and in the EU.

Under Article 6(1) of the Rome I Regulation, such consumer protective rules apply under the condition that the business pursues commercial or professional activities in, or directs such activities to the consumer’s home country. The same targeting test is adopted in Article 17(1)(c) of the Brussels I bis Regulation on jurisdiction rules over consumer contracts.

By contrast, in Chinese private international law, there is no specific jurisdiction rule over consumer contracts, consumers are subject to general jurisdiction rules. However, consumers are protected with favorable choice of law rules in China. Under Article 42 of the Chinese Conflicts Act, the law of the consumer’s habitual residence applies unless the business operator does not engage in relevant commercial or soliciting activities in the consumer’s home country.

The European approach focuses on the positive criterion by examining what constitutes a targeting activity (targeting test), whereas the Chinese approach puts more weight on the negative criterion of not applying consumer choice of law rules by examining what does not constitute a targeting activity (dis-targeting test).

Criteria of Targeting and Dis-targeting Tests

The targeting test is crucial to determining whether a business is an active business, whilst the dis-targeting test allows to determine whether a business is a passive business. From the consumer’s perspective, the targeting test ensures that only passive consumers targeted by the active business is protected. By contrast, the dis-targeting test makes sure that active consumers not targeted by passive businesses are not protected by favorable consumer choice of law rule. The targeting and dis-targeting tests are two sides of a coin. Essentially, the targeting and dis-targeting tests are examined to decide whether a business’ commercial activities have a close connection with the consumer’s country of habitual residence. In the context of globalization and digitalization, it is insufficient to rely on merely targeting test or dis-targeting test in order to protect electronic consumers. Rather, the targeting test in Article 6(1) of the Rome I Regulation should be supplemented by dis-targeting test, while the dis-targeting test in Article 42 of the Chinese Conflicts Act should be complemented by the targeting test.

A non-exhaustive list of indicative factors that may be relevant to the targeting test and dis-targeting test is provided by the CJEU in Pammer and Hotel Alpenhof judgment (paras 83, 93). It does not mean that all criteria have to be fulfilled nor each factor is decisive or conditional. The absence of one factor can be substituted by another factor. A business should have expected to sue and being sued in a State it directs to unless it expressly declares that it will not conclude contracts with consumers domiciled in that State (Pammer and Hotel Alpenhof, EU:C:2010:273, opinion of advocate general, para. 25).

For instance, in Lokman Emrek v. Vlado Sabranovic (paras 10-12), a German consumer who was looking for a second-hand motor vehicle learned from his acquaintances, instead of the Internet site, of a French business and went to the business premises France. The German consumer concluded a written sale contract with the French business at the premises in France. Although the business claimed that the consumer was an active consumer and thus should be deprived of the protection of consumer jurisdiction rules, the CJEU held that the geological factor acts as a strong evidence to indicate that the French business has not taken measures to dis-target German consumers living near the borders. The risk of being sued in the courts of the neighbouring State does not seem to be an excessive burden which might act as a disincentive to the defendant’s commercial activity (para. 37). Rather, the trader or service provider must be fully aware that a significant proportion, or even the majority, of his clientele will have their domicile in the neighbouring State. Since the French trader did not take any measures to exclude consumers from Germany, the exercise of jurisdiction by German courts should be entirely foreseeable for the French trader. This means that even of the consumer is an active consumer, the business should be subject to consumer jurisdiction and choice of law rules if the business is an active business.

Given that an indicative factor may act as a facilitating or inhibiting factor in different circumstances, it is not accurate to state that ‘the language or currency which a website uses does not constitute a relevant factor’ in Recital 24 of the Rome I Regulation. For instance, the Washington-based American e-commerce company Amazon has a country-neutral domain name ‘amazon.com’ and many country-specific domain names, such as ‘amazon.nl’, ‘amazon.it’, ‘amazon.de’ and  ‘amazon.fr’. These domain names, together with the languages used on the website (Dutch, Italian, German, French), indicate that Amazon has directed its commercial activities to European countries such as the Netherlands, Italy, Germany and France. If an Italian consumer buys products via any of these websites, the targeting test is fulfilled. In this context, the commercial activities of Amazon have directed to several counties including the consumer’s home country, and it is not necessary that the website targets only or specifically to the consumer’s home country (GP Calliess and M Renner, Rome Regulations, Wolters Kluwer, 2020, 124, para.51). Therefore, the inaccurate statement in Recital 24 of the Rome I Regulation needs to be rephrased, since the language or currency may act as a relevant factor in certain circumstances.

Geo-location and Geo-blocking Technologies

Moreover, with the development of the geo-location and geo-blocking technologies, the weight has shifted partly from the targeting test to the dis-targeting test. Geolocation technologies allow the identification of the geographical location of a user accessing the Internet, whereas geo-blocking technologies disallow a user’s access to certain internet applications. Such technologies re-territorialize the internet by creating border lines in global internet applications such as websites, social media platforms, search engines and other applications(J Hörnle, Internet Jurisdiction Law and Practice, OUP, 2021, 448). Although these technologies represent a threat to the Internet’s borderlessness, it also means that it is possible for a business advertising via websites to restrict its products and services to consumers from particular countries. Nevertheless, if the consumer misrepresent himself or herself about the domicile deliberately, and the business is in good faith, jurisdiction and choice of law rules over consumer contracts in Articles 17-19 of the Brussels I bis Regulation and in Article 6 of the Rome I Regulation cannot be invoked to protect the consumer. It is noticeable that traveling in cyberspace, or cyber-travel, allows Internet users to view the Internet as if they were in a location other than where they are physically present. Many cyber-travel tools for the evasion of geo-location have become sufficiently user-friendly to allow even average Internet users to utilize them(M Trimble, ‘The Future of Cyber-travel: Legal Implications of the Evasion of Geolocation’, 22 Fordham Intellectual Property, Media and Entertainment Law Journal 2012, 569.). If a consumer domiciled in one country claims living in another country, and deliberately covers its whereabouts by using anti-geolocation tools, in particular VPNs, or by giving a false address, such proactive consumers should not be protected by the favorable jurisdiction and choice of law rules, as the protection of the businesses’ reasonable expectation should also be taken into consideration.     

To sum up, the dis-targeting test focuses on whether a business has taken active measures to dis-target consumers from a particular country and avoid concluding contracts with unsolicited or unintended consumers from that country. This means that instead of asking the difficult question of whether a business has targeted a particular jurisdiction, it may rather examine whether the business has taken steps to dis-target consumers (D Svantesson, ‘Time for the Law to Take Internet Geolocation Technologies Seriously’, 8 JPIL 2012, 485). The adoption of a combination of the targeting test and dis-targeting test may enhance legal certainty, while allowing space for legal flexibility to adapt to fast-changing technology and marketing strategies.

For a more elaborate discussion of the criteria employed in the framework of the targeting and dis-targeting tests, see Internet, Consumer Contracts and Private International Law: What Constitutes Targeting Activity Test?’, by the author of this post, published on Information and Communications Technology Law, freely accessible here. 

The author of this post is Marco Buzzoni, Research Fellow at the Max Planck Institute Luxembourg.


On 21 December 2021, the Grand Chamber of the Court of Justice of the European Union (“CJEU”) handed out its much-anticipated judgment in Case C-251/20, Gtflix Tv v DR (“Gtflix Tv”), a case dealing with the interpretation of Article 7(2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation in the context of torts committed through an online publication. In this decision, the Court confirmed that the so-called ‘mosaic approach’ to jurisdiction first established in Shevill applies to an action seeking compensation for the harm allegedly caused by the placement of disparaging comments on the internet. Departing from the Opinion of AG Hogan issued on 16 September 2021 (on the Opinion, see more here), the CJEU held that the courts of each Member State in which those comments are or were accessible have jurisdiction to hear the case, provided that the compensation sought is limited to the damage suffered within the Member State of the court seised.

Far from putting an end to doubts concerning the allocation of jurisdiction under Article 7(2) Brussels I bis, however, the CJEU’s decision in Gtflix Tv will most likely revive the debates on the need to update the current jurisdictional framework applicable to online torts.

Background of the Case

Gtflix Tv — a company established in the Czech Republic and specialised in the production and distribution of adult audiovisual content — brought an action for interim measures (référé) against DR — a director, producer and distributor of similar content domiciled in Hungary — before the President of the tribunal de grande instance de Lyon (Regional Court, Lyon, France).

Before that court, the plaintiff sought the rectification and removal of disparaging comments allegedly made by DR on several websites and forums, and asked for a symbolic compensation for the economic and non-material damage caused to its reputation. The court of first instance dismissed the action for lack of jurisdiction, and the plaintiff appealed this decision before the cour d’appel de Lyon (Court of Appeal, Lyon). On appeal, the plaintiff increased to EUR 10,000 the provisional sum claimed as compensation for the damage suffered in France. On 24 July 2018, however, the Court of Appeal confirmed the dismissal for lack of jurisdiction. The plaintiff subsequently filed an application against the judgment with the French Cour de cassation (Court of Cassation, France), contending that French courts had jurisdiction based on Article 7(2) Brussels I bis.

By a decision dated 13 May 2020 (on this decision, see more here), the Court of Cassation held that the French courts lacked jurisdiction to hear claims seeking the removal and the rectification of the allegedly disparaging statements published on the internet, in light of the CJEU’s judgment in Bolagsupplysningen and Ilsjan. As to the remaining claim for compensation, however, the French court wondered whether the same solution should apply, given the “necessary link of dependence” between this action and the request for rectification and withdrawal. Hence, the Court of Cassation decided to stay the proceedings and referred the following question to the CJEU:

“Must Article 7(2) [Brussels I bis] be interpreted as meaning that a person who, considering that his or her rights have been infringed by the dissemination of disparaging comments on the internet, brings proceedings not only for the rectification of data and the removal of content but also for compensation for the resulting non-material and economic damage, may claim, before the courts of each Member State in the territory of which content published online is or was accessible, compensation for the damage caused in the territory of that Member State, in accordance with the judgment of 25 October 2011, eDate Advertising and Others (C‑509/09 and C‑161/10, EU:C:2011:685, paras 51 and 52), or whether, pursuant to the judgment of 17 October 2017, Bolagsupplysningen and Ilsjan (C‑194/16, EU:C:2017:766, para 48), that person must make that application for compensation before the court with jurisdiction to order rectification of the information and removal of the disparaging comments?”

CJEU’s Analysis

After a relatively lengthy summary of the general canons of interpretation that, according to the Grand Chamber, should guide the jurisdictional rules applicable to extra-contractual liability (paras 20-26), the Court began its decision by recalling the traditional solution according to which Article 7(2) grants jurisdiction to both the courts of the place “where the damage occurred and the place of the event giving rise to it” (para 27). The Court then underscored that the case at hand only required an assessment of whether the alleged damage occurred in France (para 28), and stated that, under existing precedent, parties who wish to vindicate violations of privacy and other personality rights through the internet (including defamation and harm to their commercial reputation) may either:

  1. bring an action before the courts of each Member State in which content placed online is or has been accessible and seek compensation only in respect of the damage caused in the Member State of the court seised (Shevill);
  2. seek compensation for all the damage allegedly suffered before the courts of the Member State in which the publisher of that content is established or before the courts of the Member State in which the plaintiff’s centre of interests is based (eDate Advertising); or
  3. apply for the rectification of incorrect information and the removal of disparaging comments affecting their reputation, but only before the courts competent to rule on the entirety of the damage (Bolagsupplysningen and Ilsjan).

Having thus set the stage for its decision (paras 29-33), the CJEU went on to reject the idea that the “necessary link of dependence” between these claims weighed in favour of the exclusive jurisdiction of the courts competent to rule on the entire damage (paras 34-40). In this respect, the Court held, first of all, that while applications for rectification of information and removal of content are single and indivisible in nature and may therefore warrant the concentration of jurisdiction upon a limited number of courts, no such justification exists for claims of compensation (para 35). Secondly, the Court dismissed the argument that a “necessary link of dependence” exists between applications for injunctive relief and actions for damages, as “their purpose, their cause and their divisibility are different, and there is therefore no legal necessity that they be examined jointly by a single court” (para 36). Thirdly, the Court considered that a concentration of jurisdiction would not always serve the interests of the sound administration of justice (paras 37-40).

Finally, the Grand Chamber concluded its decision by rejecting the argument formulated by AG Hogan according to which, should the Court uphold the mosaic approach to jurisdiction inaugurated in Shevill, the reference to the place where the damage occurred should only be interpreted to cover the Member States where the publication in question is concretely “directed”. Citing its decisions in Pinckney and Hejduk, the Court held, however, that the wording of Article 7(2) does not impose any additional condition regarding the determination of the competent court, and that such a restrictive approach could in some cases lead to the de facto exclusion of the option to bring proceedings before the courts of the place where the damage occurred.

Critical Assessment

Contrary to what a first reading of the judgment may suggest, the CJEU’s decision in Gtflix Tv does not simply uphold well-established solutions contained in the conspicuous body of case-law concerning the protection of privacy and personality rights. Indeed, a closer look at the Court’s reasoning reveals that the solution reached by the Grand Chamber was everything but a foregone conclusion.

Firstly, the CJEU’s reliance on its precedents largely ignores AG Hogan’s observation that “[u]nder French law, disparagement does not fall within the scope of infringement of rights relating to the personality” (para 96 of the AG’s Opinion) and that, therefore, the place where the damage occurred should have been determined having regard to the CJEU’s case-law issued in the area of infringement of economic rights. Rather than a mere reiteration of the mosaic approach to jurisdiction, the Grand Chamber’s decision in Gtflix Tv may therefore be regarded as an extension of it to an area of the law where this solution did not obviously apply and to a context, that of internet jurisdiction, that the Court in Shevill had not specifically addressed.

Secondly, the Grand Chamber’s emphasis on the plaintiff’s option to bring an action before the courts of any place where the damage occurred (see paras 39 and 42) stands in stark contrast with some of the CJEU’s most recent decisions under Article 7(2) (on this point, see in particular cases Case C‑800/19, Mittelbayerischer Verlag KG, and C‑709/19, Vereniging van Effectenbezitters, both stressing the need to ensure the predictability of the jurisdictional rule applicable to extra-contractual liability). In this respect, it is rather telling that the Grand Chamber’s summary of the relevant canons of interpretation applicable to Article 7(2) Brussels I bis conveniently omits the oft-cited principle according to which derogations from the general rule set out in Article 4 Brussels I bis should be interpreted restrictively. Undoubtedly, this factor would have nudged against the confirmation of the mosaic approach ultimately upheld by the CJUE.

Finally, the reasons put forward by the Grand Chamber to reject a narrower interpretation of the term “accessibility” favoured by the AG are rather unpersuasive. On the one hand, in fact, the Court’s comparison between the wording of Article 7(2) and Article 17(1)(c) Brussels I bis is quite unconvincing, given the overwhelming weight played by judge-made rules in the law of extra-contractual jurisdiction. On the other hand, the extension of the solution adopted in Pinckney and Hejduk seems especially ill-suited to disputes where, by contrast to cases involving of the protection of copyright, the principle of territoriality does not appear to be particularly pregnant.

All in all, the CJEU’s judgment in Gtflix Tv highlights the need to revisit the jurisdictional provision set out in Article 7(2) Brussels I bis, specifically — but by no means exclusively — with regards to disputes sitting at the intersection of internet jurisdiction and personality rights. Admittedly, legislative reform represents a more palatable solution than the piecemeal approach based on case-law when it comes to the specific challenges posed by the impact of new technologies in this area of the law. In this respect, it will therefore be interesting to see how the Grand Chamber’s decision will be received in the context of the recent initiative promoted by the EU Commission to protect journalists and civil society against SLAPPs, as well as within the broader framework of the upcoming recast of Brussels I bis Regulation.

The post below was written by Matthias Lehmann, who is Professor of Private International Law at the University of Vienna. It is the fourth contribution to the EAPIL on-line symposium on the ruling of the Court of Justice in the case Hrvatske Sume d.o.o. Zagreb v BP Europa SE. The previous posts were authored by Peter Mankowski, Adrian Briggs and Bernard Haftel

Readers are encouraged to share their views by making comments to the posts. Those wishing to submit longer contributions for publication are invited to get in touch with the managing editor of the blog, Pietro Franzina, at pietro.franzina@unicatt.it.


The CJEU decision already reviewed in this blog-post is more than doubtful from a comparative law viewpoint. It ignores the fact that in some legal systems a claim for unjust enrichment may be based on a tort. This is the case, for instance, in German law, where the unlawful interference with another’s rights may lead to a so-called Eingriffskondition (unjust enrichment based on intervention) under sec. 812(1) of the German Civil Code (BGB). It is also true in Swiss law, English law and in the law of most U.S. states, which equally allow restitutionary claims in cases of torts. Even though these are not EU Member States, their laws may apply to claims brought under the Brussels Ibis Regulation. These legal systems illustrate that the gamut of unjust enrichment may cover facts that also sound in tort. Comparative law is infinitely richer than the CJEU accepts. To say that a claim for restitution is never based on a harmful event reminds of the attitude of Palmström in Christian Morgenstern’s poem “The Impossible Fact“: “that which must not be, cannot be”.

A natural reading of the term “quasi-delict” in Art 7(2) Brussels Ibis suggests that it would cover claims for restitution in case of wrongs. The CJEU has chosen a different path by excluding these claims from the scope of the provision altogether.  This follows from a purist understanding of the term “unjust enrichment” which, according to the CJEU, should not overlap with any other legal category. This is remarkable given that the term “unjust enrichment” does not even feature in the Regulation. It is also astounding that the CJEU adopts quite a different approach with regard to Art 7(1) Brussels Ibis: The Court expressly recognises that this head of jurisdiction, which does not even provide an open-ended term like “quasi-contractual”, covers an unjust enrichment claim that “is closely linked to a pre-existing contractual relationship between the parties” (para 51). In effect, while being very open-minded with regard to Art 7(1), the Luxembourg judges are particularly narrow-minded with regard to 7(2). It is the old Kalfelis mistake again: giving priority to contract over tort in matters of jurisdiction.

The CJEU’s grammatical argument for this narrow-mindedness is the mention of “harm” – via the expression “harmful event” – in Art 7(2) Brussels Ibis. From the  provision’s use of this term, the Court concludes that unjust enrichment is excluded because it is not based on the harm of the victim, but on the enrichment of the other party. Yet this ignores that Art 7(2) Brussels Ibis uses the expression “harmful event” not as a definitional element for tort/delict or quasi-delict, but as part of the connecting factor to determine the competent court for those claims. The difference is important because even in case of unjust enrichment a harm may exist. This is illustrated by unjust enrichment based on intervention (Eingriffskondiktion): German law expressly provides that the unjust enrichment in these cases must be “at the cost” (auf Kosten) of the victim. This is merely another way of saying that the victim must suffer a loss, or “harm”.

Thus, the existence of a claim for unjust enrichment does not mean that a place where the harmful event occurred cannot be identified. Retaining the place of harm as the decisive criterion for determining the competent court over claims of Eingriffskondiktion and similar restitutionary claims for torts also makes sense: It offers the victim the benefit of having the same court deciding on the tort and related claims, which is exactly what Art 7(2) Brussels Ibis aims at by mentioning “quasi-delicts”. Using the place of the harmful event as the connecting factor in these cases also does not violate the legal nature of unjust enrichment claims, but merely illustrates the different focus of procedural and substantive law.

One could, however, save the reasoning of the CJEU by creative interpretation. A case could be made for contending that the CJEU did not want to exclude claims such as those mentioned under German, English, Swiss or U.S. state law from the scope of Art. 7(2) Brussels Ibis because it did not rule on them, but on a different type of claims under Croatian law. Arguably, the CJEU adopted an autonomous understanding of “unjust enrichment” independent of national or comparative law, which does not cover cases that require harm as a condition for a restitutionary claim. If in the future the Court would be faced with such a claim, it could allege that this situation was not the same as that of the Hvratske Šume ruling because the latter only concerned “unjust enrichment” in an autonomous European sense. This would then pave the way for qualifying the particular cases of Eingriffskondiktion and similar claims as being “quasi-delicts”.

Even if this creative-restrictive reading of the CJEU’s ruling were rejected, one must not overestimate its impact. The result of excluding cases involving unjust enrichment from Art 7(2) Brussels Ibis do not seem disastrous: The claimant will have to use the base rule of Art 4 Brussels Ibis and sue the defendant at the place of its domicile. This will in most cases coincide with the place where the defendant has acted, and thus with part of the Art 7(2) jurisdiction. And even if not, the place of domicile of the defendant will often be the place where the enrichment has taken place. The domicile of the enriched party could thus function as a kind of “default head of jurisdiction” for unjust enrichment claims.

The damage done by the CJEU is thus rather small in practical terms. It will mainly concern cases in which the party having borne the loss from an unjust enrichment is not the claimant, but the defendant. A case in point is a claim for a negative declaration that no unjust enrichment claim exists. Following the CJEU approach in Folien Fischer, such a claim could be brought at the domicile of the party that is alleging or likely to allege the unjust enrichment, i.e., at the domicile of the party that has suffered rather than benefitted from such enrichment. But this awkward result is the product of the CJEU allowing claims for negative declarations under the Brussels Ibis regime rather than a problem specific to unjust enrichment.

Many thanks to Amy Held, Felix Krysa and Verena Wodniansky-Wildenfeld for their comments on the draft post.

The post below was written by Bernard Haftel, who is Professor of Private International Law at the University of Sorbonne Paris Nord.

This is the third contribution to the EAPIL on-line symposium on the ruling of the Court of Justice in the case Hrvatske Sume d.o.o. Zagreb v BP Europa SE. The previous posts were authored by Peter Mankowski and Adrian Briggs

Readers are encouraged to share their views by making comments to the posts. Those wishing to submit longer contributions for publication are invited to get in touch with the managing editor of the blog, Pietro Franzina, at pietro.franzina@unicatt.it.


It is not my habit to say good things about the decisions of the Court of Justice, but for this New Year, let’s say that this will count as a good resolution.

So let’s be clear : the decision in Hrvatske Sume d.o.o. Zagreb v BP Europa SE on 9 December 2020 seems to be not only a good decision on the very issue at hand, but also indicative of a return to some general orthodoxy, or so we hope (but perhaps this is again the optimism of the beginning of the year speaking).

The solution – which consists in treating claims based on unjust enrichment as being, in principle, neither contractual nor tortious, and therefore subject only to the forum of the defendant’s domicile – seems to us to be in line with the concepts of contractual and tortious matters provided for by the Regulation, with the aims pursued by its rules and with the general logic of the Brussels “system”.

I/ On a conceptual level

On a conceptual level, the question was whether the claim for unjust enrichment corresponded to the central concepts of “matters relating to a contract” or “matters relating to tort, delict or quasi-delict”. In accordance with the Kalfélis case law[1], the Court of Justice recalls that matters relating to tort, delict or quasi-delict are subsidiary, covering “any claim which seeks to establish the liability of a defendant and which is not related to contractual matters”. The result was that it was necessary to consider the contractual characterisation beforehand. Does unjust enrichment imply a ‘legal obligation freely entered into by one person in relation to another and on which the claimant’s action is based’? (ECJ 20 janv. 2005, Engler, Case C-27/02, ECJ 14 mai 2009, Ilsinger, Case C-180/06) The Court answers in the negative. More precisely, the Court answers that this is not in principle the case. Unjust enrichment does not in principle imply a contractual basis. In the case under review, the unjust enrichment resulted from the execution of a court decision that was subsequently declared invalid. However, the Court rightly adds, quoting Advocate General Saugmandsgaard Oe, that in some cases enrichment may well have a strong link with a contract. The idea of unjust enrichment is indeed broad and can cover unjust enrichment in the strict sense, but also what french law calls répétition de l’indu (restitution of undue payment) or restitutions following the annulment of a contract. However, it is clear that when unjust enrichment is closely linked to a contract, and typically when it is the consequence of an annulment, the action is contractual in nature (The judgment cites the Profit Investment SIM judgment of 20 April 2016 (Case C 366/13) on pt. 40 in this regard).

The fact remains that unjust enrichment is not, as a matter of principle, contractual in nature outside these cases.

Does this mean that it is a tort, delict or quasi-delict ? This is to question the second criterion laid down by the Kalfélis judgment: for a non-contractual action to fall within the scope of delictual or quasidelictual matters, it must still be an action for liability. In the French version, the term “responsabilité” is used. Coming from the Latin “respondere”, it implies that a person is called upon to answer for the harmful consequences of his actions, whether intentional (delict) or unintentional (quasi-delict). The English word “liability”, coming from the French “lier”, ie bind, goes in the same direction. It involves establishing that a person is bound by his or her actions and must repair the harmful consequences. All the language versions point in the same direction: matters relating to tort, delict or quasi-delict presuppose an act that has caused damage, which the purpose of the liability action is to repair.

The Court rightly points out that none of these elements are present in the case of an action for unjust enrichment. It is almost the opposite.The act which gives rise to unjust enrichment is generally not an act of the defendant, but of the plaintiff.  In principle, it is not the defendant who is at the origin of the unjust enrichment, but the plaintiff who has enriched him. This fact, then, has not caused damage but, on the contrary, an advantage to the defendant who is then sued for unjust enrichment. Finally, and logically as a consequence of the above, the object of the action is not to call the defendant to account for his actions but to invite him to return the advantage he has received without cause.

Conceptually, and regardless of the language version, unjust enrichment is therefore logically not part of the concept of “tort, delict or quasi-delict”.

II/ On a teleological level

As we know, it is often less conceptual rigour than functional appropriateness that guides the Court of Justice, especially when it is called upon to clarify its qualifications.

The uniform interpretation praised by the Court of Justice is based not so much on conceptual rigour – which in any case would have no real basis in the absence of a sufficiently developed uniform substantive law – as on the aims and objectives of the regulation whose interpretation is at issue.

From this point of view, the solution adopted also appears satisfactory, in two respects.

Firstly, because the criterion applied to torts, delicts and quasi-delicts is simply not applicable to unjust enrichment. Under the terms of Article 5§3, now 7§2, the criterion of jurisdiction is the place where the harmful event occurred. In a case of unjust enrichment, there is no harmful event. There is no event causing damage, but only an event causing enrichment, which will usually be the act of the plaintiff. There is no damage either, but an enrichment, which is not only conceptually the opposite of damage but, moreover, is not materially locatable. Since the criterion is thus inapplicable, the corresponding qualification is for this reason alone manifestly inadequate.

Secondly, the solution here is at odds with that adopted in matters of conflict of laws. In this area, unjust enrichment, like quasi-contracts in general, is a matter for extra-contractual matters and the Rome II Regulation. The idea of consistent interpretation set out in point 7 of the preamble to the Rome I and Rome II Regulations could thus have led to unjust enrichment being placed in the field of Article 7§2. However, on the one hand, the terminology is different, the Rome II Regulation speaking of “non-contractual obligations” while the Brussels Regulations speak of “tort, delict or quasi-delict”. On the other hand, and above all, the consequences of the qualification are not the same. In matters of conflict of laws, the Rome II Regulation provides for specifically appropriate criteria (or at least specifically designed for such cases), which is not the case in matters of jurisdiction. Above all, in matters of jurisdiction, as the judgment under review illustrates, it is quite possible not to qualify at all, because of the general ground of jurisdiction constituted by the defendant’s domicile. Obviously, nothing similar is possible in matters of conflict of laws.

III/ On a systemic level

Finally, the solution also appears satisfactory on a more general level. Not only does the solution highlight the autonomy of the qualifications adopted in the field of conflict of laws and jurisdiction (CJEU 16 Jan. 2014, Kainz, Case C-45/13, CJEU, 28 July 2016, Case C-191/15, VKI c/ Amazon EU), which is an excellent point, but, above all, it restores to its rightful place the principle ground of jurisdiction : the defendant’s domicile.

The Court of Justice systematically repeats that the forum of the defendant’s domicile is the principle, to which the other grounds of jurisdiction, in particular those of Article 7, are only exceptions, which are by nature subject to strict interpretation. This is what led the Court, initially at least, to leave the actio Pauliana unqualified (ECJ, 26 march 1992, Case C-261/90, Reichert II. In a contractual context, the Court now decides that the actio Pauliana falls within the scope af article 7§1, see CJEU, 4 oct. 2018, Feniks, Case C-337/17). However, in recent years, although it has continued to repeat like a mantra that the alternative grounds of jurisdiction in Article 7 are merely derogations from the principle of the forum of the defendant’s domicile, implying a particularly close link, the Court of Justice has tended to extend the scope of these derogations, in particular to matters relating to tort, delict or quasi-delict. For instance, it has ruled that an action seeking to deny liability falls within the scope of Article 7§2 (CJEU, 25 oct. 2012, Case C-133/11, Fischer), as does an action for an injunction in which a consumer protection association sought to prohibit a trader’s use of unfair terms in contracts with consumers (ECJ, 1st oct. 2002, Case C-167/00, Henkel). However, strictly speaking, none of these actions “sought to bring into play the liability of the defendant”.

It is therefore a return to a certain orthodoxy that the judgment under review implies. A return to the idea that the defendant’s forum is a principle; a principle from which the alternative grounds of jurisdiction in Article 7 derogate only if there is a sufficiently close link between the alternative forum and the dispute, which is clearly not the case in matters of unjust enrichment. On a systemic level, the solution appears equally justified.

So how did we get a decision of the CJEU satisfactory in all respects? In Luxembourg, Santa Claus was obviously two weeks early.

 

[1] ECJ 27 Sept. 1988, Case 189/87, Kalfélis, ECR 1988, p. 5565, the decision already seemed to find that unjust enrichment was excluded from Article 5§3. The principle is regularly recalled, see recently, e.g., CJEU, 28 Jan. 2015, Kolassa, Case C-375/13, CJEU, 24 Nov. 2020, Wikingerhof, C 59/19.

The post below was written by Adrian Briggs QC, who is Professor of Private International Law Emeritus at the University of Oxford. It is the second contribution to the EAPIL online symposium, announced by an earlier post, regarding the ruling of the Court of Justice in the case of Hrvatske Šume. The previous post of Peter Mankowski can be found here


The arrival of the decision in C-242/20 Hrvatske Šume in December 2021 was as predictable as it was depressing. So was the omicron variant of covid-19: early December 2021 will not go down as the high point of anyone’s year. Those who have already contributed to this commentary have highlighted the technical shortcomings in the apology for a judgment, and there is no need to repeat their criticisms which are, in my view and in any rational world, unanswerable. Their careful work allows others to paint a more impressionistic picture.

The claimant in the case sustained damage: any consequence arising out of … unjust enrichment, as this is explained in the Rome II Regulation. The reason why the claim was not within Article 7(2) of the Brussels I Regulation will therefore have been that there was no harmful event when the defendant refused to repay a sum which it had no legal basis to retain. Although English is only one of twenty-odd languages, each of which is equally authentic, in what sense is that refusal, assuming it is unjustified in law, not a harmful event ? Consider the child who, sent on a shopping errand, refuses to hand over to her mother the change from the original £10 which the shopkeeper had given her. This refusal is, it seems, not to be understood as a harmful event. That will come as news to many. If while out walking I find a wallet which someone has evidently dropped, and decide to pick it up and keep it, does the claim later brought against me by the owner fall within Article 7(2) ? One would think so; and it makes no difference whether the claim is for the leather folder or the banknotes which it contains. Or take the case in which I attempt to make an electronic transfer of funds to my favourite nephew’s bank account but which, as a result of my incompetent typing, I manage to transfer to a complete stranger (it happens; don’t ask). When I discover my mistake, and the bank, in the modern way of banks, refuses point blank to do anything to help, I am left to sue the intransigent recipient for repayment. Does the claim fall within Article 7(2) ? The answer should be yes, and the proposition that the refusal to repay that which one should not have received and certainly should never have kept is not a harmful event rejected as the nonsense which it certainly is.

In what sense is the refusal to pay over not a harmful event ? The only illumination has to come from bare and conclusory paragraph 55 of the judgment, which says that ‘a claim for restitution based on unjust enrichment is based on an obligation which does not originate in a harmful event. That obligation arises irrespective of the defendant’s conduct, with the result that there is no causal link that can be established between the damage and any unlawful act or omission committed by the defendant’. The proposition that there is no causal link between the damage (which seems to be admitted) and anything the defendant did or didn’t do is apparent only to those who value belief above observation. The damage of which the claimant now complains would not have occurred if the defendant had behaved otherwise: how is that relationship not a causal one ? The Court may say that it depends on the meaning of ‘causal’, which it may do. That, however, is not elaborated by the judgment. So we must try to do it ourselves.

One possible explanation might be that the recipient does me no harm; that I harmed myself and everything which follows is an immaterial consequence of that self-harm. If that is so, it would reflect developments within the judicial exegesis of ‘damage occurring’ as this relates to Article 7(2). Maybe so, but it makes cases of transfer or property as a result of fraud or misrepresentation hard to deal with. If it is suggested that the delayed-refusal to deliver or redeliver is not a harmful event, what of the case in which the person to whom I have lent my bicycle (gratuitously, not for reward) refuses to return it to me ? He did no wrong when I handed it over and he borrowed it, but it would make one rub one’s eyes in disbelief if it were said that his refusal to return it on my demand hand it over was not a wrongful act because I had self-harmed by voluntarily parting with it in the first place.

And so one could continue unto length of days. Not everyone will see the lines as needing to be drawn in the same place as I would locate them, which is, no doubt, exactly as it should be. One should instead ask why the Court has decided to turn its back on Kalfelis and thirty-odd years of general (granted, not universal) assumption that ‘all actions which seek to establish the liability’ of a defendant does not mean what it said, in favour of some abstract and doctrinaire distinction-drawing, which serves no useful purpose at all. It will now require a judge at first instance, perhaps in the remoter regions of the Union where theories of unjust enrichment and waiver of tort are not part of daily discourse, to figure out whether a non-contractual obligation giving rise to a pleaded claim is – as a matter of general European law, rather than within his or her own legal system, as paragraph 40 makes perfectly clear – based on a harmful event. What on earth was the sense of that ?

This is the first contribution to the on-line symposium regarding the ruling of the Court of Justice in the case of Hrvatske Šume. The author is Peter Mankowski, who is Professor of Private International Law at the University of Hamburg. It is based on the author’s case note in German, forthcoming in Recht der Internationalen Wirtschaft. The publication of this version is permitted by courtesy of Deutscher Fachverlag, Frankfurt/Main. 


Article 7 of the Brussels I bis Regulation provides for special jurisdiction for contractual claims (point 1) and for tort claims (point 2).

On the other hand, it does not mention any claims for unjust enrichment (alternatively called: restitution). Does this mean that there is no special jurisdiction for claims or unjust enrichment under Article 7 of the Brussels I bis Regulation if point 5 does not apply)?

However, even if the answer was ‘yes’, this would not amount to a denial of justice for creditors in unjust enrichment since they could always avail temselves of the general jurisdiction in the State where the defendant is domiciled under Article 4 (1) of the Brussels I bis Regulation as kind of ‘residual jurisdiction’ (A-G Saugmandsgaard Øe, Opinion of 9 September 2021 in Case C-242/20, para. 80). Actor sequitur forum rei might save the last remains of the day for claimants, thus. It is ‘only’ about additional options for the claimant through special jurisdictional grounds.

The CJEU has so far avoided rendering a fundamental opinion where to place unjust enrichment (in particular in Case C-102/15, Gazdasági Versenyhivatal v Siemens AG Österreich; see, as contrast to A-G Wahl, Opinion of 7 April 2016 in Case C-102/15, paras. 54 to 75) and only occasionally decided on bits pieces (CJEU Case C-611/45, Land Berlin v Ellen Mirjam Sapir, paras. 35 et seq.; CJEU Case C-366/13, Profit Investment SIM SpA v Stefano Ossi, para. 55; CJEU Case C-185/15, Marjan Kostanjevec v F&S Leasing GmbH, paras. 34-40).

Decision of the CJEU in Hrvatske Šume

However, in Hrvatske Šume (Case C-242/20) the CJEU can no longer avoid a more principled approach. A-G Saugmandsgaard Øe had categorically denied, on detailed grounds, that an action for recovery of the property gave rise to liability for damage and therefore ruled out the possibility that it could constitute a tort for the purposes of Article 7(2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation (A-G Saugmandsgaard Øe, Opinion of 9 September 2021 in Case C-242/20, paras. 56-79). In other words, the CJEU accepts this as key argument (paras. 53-59). That is, however, taking things way to litteral. It does not fit with the concept of ‘damage’ in Article 2(1) of the Rome II Regulation, which is very broad and, in particular, must be broad enough to also cover ‘damage’ in the case of other non-contractual obligations beyond the actual law of tort (see only Mankowski, in: Ulrich Magnus v Mankowski, Rome II Regulation [2019] Article 2 Rome II Regulation note 8), further to the fact that claims for injunctive relief under tort law fall within point 2, too. Oh, and on top of it, it tends to disregard purposive interpretation and hails litteral interpretation instead (Layton, Cuniberti, EAPIL Blog 9 December 2021; Cuniberti [Comment], EAPIL Blog 9 December 2021).

In any event, actions for the recovery of ineffective contractual relationships must be characterised differently (to the same avail van Calster, gavclaw.com 9 December 2021). In their case, the assessment of Article 12(1)(d) of the Rome I Regulation is correct. They must be characterised as contractual, and special jurisdiction at the place of performance of Article 7(1) of the Brussels I bis Regulation is therefore open to them (Court of Justice, 20 April 2016, Case C-366/13, para. 55 — Profit Investment SIM SpA v Stefano Ossi; A-G Saugmandsgaard Øe, Opinion of 9 September 2021 in Case C-242/20,  points 48-52; Mankowski, RIW 2017, 322, 324-326; Grušić, [2019] 68 ICLQ 837, 854-859). The CJEU does not hesitate to confirm this (paras. 47-50). Profit Investement is still good law on this point. In so far as the void or ineffective contract is a consumer, insurance or individual employment contract, what is at issue would be the grounds of jurisdiction under the relevant protective regime (A-G Kokott, Opinion of 2 June 2016 in Case C-195/15, points 54 et seq.; OLG Dresden IPRspr. 2007 No 140, p. 394; LG Darmstadt ZIP 2004, 1924, 1925), in accordance with the generalisable principle underpinning Articles 12(1)(e) of the Rome I Regulation and 10(1) of the Rome II Regulation. Moreover, the rules on jurisdiction for other kinds of actions where the recovery of sums paid, i.e. the way back, should be the same as the ones governing the way forward, e.g. those of the Maintenance Regulation in the event of recovery of maintenance overpaid (Mankowski, RIW 2017, 322, 326).

The CJEU had to rule on another specific issue: Do actions for recovery based on unjust enrichment in respect of something obtained in enforcement fall within the scope of (now) Article 24(5) of the Brussels I bis Regulation and fall within exclusive jurisdiction at the place of enforcement? It could be argued that this would result in a substantive revision of enforcement and therefore a sort of extraordinary remedy exists. On the other hand, these are not formally attacks or even appeals against individual enforcement measures. Its success does not create the foreclosure measure as such, but merely revises its economic result. This is rightly not sufficient for the Court of Justice (paras. 31-36). Irrespective of the legal basis used, it is not sufficient if this unjust enrichment (para. 36), a general offence or a specific offence such as § 717(2) of the German ZPO (in more detail Mankowski, in: Rauscher, EuZPR/EuIPR, vol. 1 [5th ed. 2021] Article 24 Brussels I bis Regulation notes 220-223; Philip Schwarz, Enforcement shopping in the European judicial area [2019] pp. 227-245; see also OLG Saarbrücken EuZW 2017, 347 paras. 18-23).

Practical Consequences

The Rome II Regulation recognises unjust enrichment as a separate non-contractual obligation besides and on equal footing with tort; it consequently allocates an own and separate conflict-of-law rule to unjust enrichment in Article 10 of the Rome II Regulation. The Brussels I bis Regulation, on the other hand, makes no mention of unjust enrichment. This leads to a discrepancy (Mankowski, RIW 2017, 322 [322]; van Calster, gavclaw.com 14 September 2021). It can be inferred from the 2007 Rome II Regulation that unjust enrichment is not a tort for its purposes. It is precisely for that reason that it sets up its own system of unjust enrichment, almost in return for compensation. The more recent Brussels I bis Regulation of 2012 does not reflect this either in positive or negative terms, but requires a characterisation for every claim based on unjust enrichment, whether it can be characterised — more or less badly — as contractual or delicate for the purposes of the Brussels I bis Regulation. Its grid has therefore remained rougher and less sophisticated than that of the Rome II Regulation. ‘Non contractual’ does not automatically equate to the narrower ‘tort, delict, or quasi-delict’ of Article 7 point 2 of the Brussels I bis Regulation (A-G Saugmandsgaard Øe, Opinion of 9 September 2021 in Case C-242/20, paras. 76-79; Briggs, EAPIL Blog 10 December 2021; Pacula, conflictoflaws.net, 17 December 2021). In that regard, unjust enrichment continues to be an unfamiliar concept for the law of jurisdiction, as it has ever been since the days of the original 1968 Brussels Convention. However, this is no longer fully in line with the state of play since the Rome II Regulation at the latest. Unfortunately, the CJEU does not correct this judicially. The CJEU in effect treats creditors in unjust enrichment (beyond ineffective contracts) less favourably than creditors in tort by denying them the benefit of a special head of jurisdiction which would be encroachable on them.

The CJEU is focused on the premissae maiores, i.e. on the individual grounds of jurisdiction, the limits of which the CJEU feels bound to examine. Unfortunately, the premissa minor does not get like attention. In particular, it is not possible to see any recourse to the assistance which the doctrine on condictiones would offer (see Mankowski, RIW 2017, 322, 323 et seq.), which in turn already has its roots in Roman law — and thus in a central source of European and Community law. The term ‘interference’ or ‘infringement’, Eingriffskondiktion, or a functional equivalent, does not appear anywhere in the CJEU. In that regard, already the A-G’s Opinion scored less than possible. The A-G and, following, the CJEU celebrate a ‘chracterisation festival’, a Qualifikationsfest (van Calster, gavclaw.com 14 September 2021), without employing the full array of methodological tools. The contention that unjust enrichment could never be attributable to an event harmful in the broad sense and to the conduct of the person liable for the condiction (para. 55), is wrong for it disregards the cases of interference and infringement of another’s rights. Hence, other cases in the future might prompt more distinguishing answers (cf. Miguel de Asensio, pedromiguelasensio.blogspot.com, 13 December 2021). While not all claims in unjust enrichment automatically qualify for Article 7 point (2) of the Brussel I bis Regulation, there might be some instances that do individually (cf. Cuniberti, EAPIL Blog 9 December 2021; Miguel de Asensio, pedromiguelasensio.blogspot.com, 13 December 2021). One future day, a notion of ‘restitution in wrong’ should prevail, properly re-transferring interference and infringement into the realm of Article 7 point 2 of the Brussels I bis Regulation even de regulatione lata (Mankowski, in: Ulrich Magnus/Mankowski, Brussels Ibis Regulation [2nd ed. 2022] Article 7 Brussels Ibis Regulation note 245). Predictability would not be overly impinged by that (to calm the concerns raised by (cf. Sisák, EAPIL Blog 10 December 2021).

However, neither the unconvincing reasoning nor the conclusion raising severe doubts for cases of interference or infringement (see Mankowski, RIW 2017, 322, 326 et seq.) can erase the fact that the CJEU establishes a seemingly clear orientation mark for practical purposes (to the same avail Miguel de Asensio, pedromiguelasensio.blogspot.com 13 December 2021). It would be ill-advised to implement any specific restriction on actions for recovery in natura. This is because such recovery is the primary legal consequence of any claim for enrichment, and a subsidiary shift to compensation for value must not have the effect of changing the jurisdiction of the court, as the primary legal consequence is also the ground for the subsidiary one. Hrvatske Šume conveys the practical message, for the time being: Beyond the realm of ineffective contracts, claims in unjust enrichment can avail them only of general jurisdiction and the special grounds of jurisdiction derived from Article 7 point 5; 8 points 1 and 3 of the Brussels I bis Regulation, but not of the special grounds of jurisdiction derived from Article 7 points 1 and 2 Brussels I bis Regulation. The Kalfelis formula (Athanassios Kalfelis v Bankhaus Schröder Münchmeyer Hengst & Cie) has always been deceptive, and there have always been tertia to contract and tort even in liability cases. Liability is not a binary world. Any perceived suggestion that Article 7 (2) Brussels I bis Regulation, or previously Article 5 point 3 Brussels Convention or Brussels I Regulation, was a residual rule within the realm of special jurisdiction (cf. Cuniberti, EAPIL Blog 9 December 2021; Okoli, EAPIL Blog 9 December 2021) has always been wrong. Sloppy and inaccurate drafting must prompt such important consequences.

Choice of court agreements pursuant to Article 25 of the Brussels I bis Regulation remain possible, ex ante as well as post eventum (Mankowski, RIW 2017, 322, 330). However, ex ante choice of court agreements (also) on claims for enrichment are unlikely to exist outside a contractual environment; they score their highest probality in framework agreements covering all legal relationships between the respective parties.

The reform agenda of the European legislature for a future Brussels Ib Regulation ought to reflect whether unjust enrichment should be blessed with a separate rule on special jurisdiction (Grušić, [2019] 68 ICLQ 837, 854-859; Mankowski, in: Ulrich Magnus/Mankowski, Brussels Ibis Regulation [2nd ed. 2022] Article 7 Brussels Ibis Regulation note 63a). The same applies to claims in negotiorum gestio (see in detail Dornis, in: Mankowski [ed.], Research Handbook on the Brussels Ibis Regulation [2020], p. 64). If these categories of non contractual obligations, well within the realm of the Rome II Regulation, were expressly addressed this would placate the principal questions.

This post was contributed by Olivera Boskovic, who is a Professor at the Université de Paris.


The situation of victims of environmental damages or human rights violations caused in non-EU countries by subsidiaries or subcontractors of companies established in the EU (but the issue can be extended to companies merely operating in the EU) trying to bring actions before the courts of EU Member States is well known. The Shell case, in which victims of serious environmental damage in Nigeria sued the Dutch parent company and its Nigerian subsidiary before the Dutch court, is quite emblematic in this respect. (The last decision in this case has been issued on 29th of January 2021 by the Hague Court of Appeal. See Shell Nigeria liable for oil spills in Nigeria). The need to modify certain rules of private international law in order to address these actions in a satisfactory manner has been debated for some time now. The purpose of this post is to provide an update and examine the current state of the debate. Difficult questions may arise both concerning jurisdiction and concerning the determination of applicable law.

Jurisdiction

Jurisdiction, first of all, remains problematic although the situation has somewhat improved in recent years. From a European perspective, as the law stands today, a first fundamental distinction is between cases in which the defendant is domiciled in an EU Member State and those in which the defendant is domiciled in a third country.

Where the action is brought against a defendant domiciled in an EU Member State (i.e, in our context, actions brought directly against the parent company or the ordering company), jurisdiction is based on the Brussels Ia Regulation. This regulation always allows a defendant to be sued in the court of his domicile, so that jurisdiction should not be a problem in this case. (For example, in the Shell case the jurisdiction of the Dutch court to hear the action against the Dutch company did not pose any problem). Instead, the obstacles are of a substantive nature and relate to the difficulty of holding companies liable for the actions of their subsidiaries or subcontractors.

The situation is more problematic when the defendant is domiciled outside the EU, (i.e. in our context when the action is brought against subsidiaries or subcontractors who are direct perpetrators of the damage or simply against companies domiciled outside the EU). These actions are excluded from the scope of the Brussels Ia Regulation. They are subject to the national laws of the Member States, and the rules may therefore differ considerably from one country to another. Generally speaking, it is quite difficult to establish the jurisdiction of a Member State court in this type of case. One can therefore consider that there is a problem of access to justice, in so far as the rules of jurisdiction do not take account of economic links, or even the economic unity of groups of companies. Nevertheless, there are avenues available and in particular two worth mentioning: the co-defendants’ rule and the forum necessitatis (or jurisdiction based on the risk of denial of justice) Indeed, several Member States have rules based on one or other of these mechanisms, or even both. As a reminder, the co-defendants’ rule makes it possible, when an action is brought against several defendants, one of whom is domiciled in the forum State and the other outside the EU, to sue all the defendants before the court of the domicile of the one domiciled in the forum State, provided of course that the claims are related. The forum necessitatis, on the other hand, allows the court of the forum to be seized when no foreign court can be seized by the claimant, who therefore risks a denial of justice. More than the issues raised by the application of each of these rules what is noteworthy is the lack of unification at the European level. As regards the forum necessitatis, its introduction into the Brussels I Regulation was proposed in 2010 and again recently in 2020, but without success. As for the co-defendants rule (involving a defendant domiciled outside the EU), its introduction in the Regulation has never been proposed.

New Grounds of Jurisdiction in the Brussels Ibis Regulation

Nevertheless, it appears that the introduction of these two rules into the Regulation would be a real improvement. Of course, this opinion is not shared by all writers. There are divergent views among scholars. Some are hostile to the introduction of the forum necessitatis. (see Ch. Tomale, On the EP draft report on corporate due diligence) They consider there is no need for such a rule, especially at a time when the Supreme court of the United States is moving in the opposite direction and has adopted a very strict position. However, contrary to what can sometimes be read, the idea is not to allow member state courts to hear cases with no connection whatsoever to the EU. A minimum link with the legal order of the court seized is required by all proposals (see the GEDIP proposal concerning the private international law aspects of the future European instrument on corporate due diligence and corporate accountability, October 2021; draft treaty on business and human rights, August 2020; Sofia guidelines for international civil litigation for human rights violation, 2012 adopted by the ILA). Of course, the question is then whether this minimum link should be defined by the rule or left for the court to decide. Taking into account the diversity of situations that may occur, it is preferable to leave the definition of the minimum link to the courts. This seems to be the approach adopted by recent initiatives. On the contrary, other scholars consider that situations where a real risk of denial of justice can be characterised are the only situations in which European courts should rule on this type of dispute. The concern that home state courts should not consider that it is always better for them to decide this type of case and that they should assert jurisdiction only when it is really necessary because the host state courts cannot handle the litigation in a satisfactory way has been voiced by many commentators during debates. Even the Court of Appeal in the famous Vedanta case decided in the UK commented that ‘there must come a time when access to justice in this type of case will not be achieved by exporting cases, but by the availability of local lawyers, experts, and sufficient funding to enable the cases to be tried locally”. Scholars who hold this position are implicitly hostile to the co-defendants rule. These differences raise the question of relations between these two grounds of jurisdiction and whether one should be preferred. In the opinion of the present writer the answer is no. These rules are complementary. (The opinion according to which the forum necessitates rule is a second-best solution and an activity-based rule could be imagined is also worth mentioning. This question was discussed during the interesting webinar on “The recommendation of GEDIP concerning the private international aspects of the future EU instrument on corporate due diligence and corporate accountability” organised by the Italian Interest group on Private international law on December 10 2021 featuring as speakers H. Van Loon and Giulia Vallar.)

Therefore, the minimum solution would be to introduce into the Brussels Ia Regulation the forum necessitatis which allows victims to bring an action in front of the court of a EU Member State, irrespective of the existence of a co-defendant domiciled in an EU Member State, but on condition that they can show that it is impossible to bring the case before another court. The rule is devised as an exceptional rule. If the European legislator wanted to go further, (it is the present writer’s opinion that this is desirable), they should introduce, in addition, the co-defendants rule, which makes it easier to bring an action, without the need to show the impossibility of seizing another court, but provided that a European defendant is also involved in the proceedings and that the claims are related. This approach has been adopted by several recent initiatives. The latest version (August 2020) of the draft binding treaty on business and human rights negotiated within the UN framework contains both rules. The same is true of the GEDIP recommendation to the European Commission. Considering the fact that England has often been described as a magnet forum for this type of litigation, it is interesting to note that in all these proposals, contrary to the English system, the two grounds of jurisdiction (presence of a forum-based co-defendant and the risk of denial of justice) are two separate grounds of jurisdiction. This indeed seems to be a better solution. Another difference lies in the fact that the English system takes into account the risk of substantial denial of justice whereas the forum necessitatis focuses on the impossibility to seize another court. However, the two systems might be closer than they seem at first sight. The impossibility to seize another court can be characterized if the claimant can not “reasonably” seize another court. This is an open door for consideration of a risk of substantial denial of justice. In a nutshell, it appears that the attractivity of the English forum does not lie in rules on jurisdiction.

Parallel Litigation

Another important question relating to jurisdiction is the question of parallel proceedings. The Mariana Dam case recently brought in front of the English courts shed light upon this question. In the aftermath of the worst environmental disaster in the history of Brazil, an action was brought in the UK against the Anglo-Australian mining multinational BHP. It was initially rejected, but has been reopened in July 2021 under exceptional appeals legislations (CPR 52.30) in order to “avoid real injustice”. The way lis pendens and the related actions exceptions are treated is very important. In addition to the problem of parallel litigation brought by victims both in the host and in the home country, It is vital to make sure that they are not transformed into weapons by potential defendants seeking declarations of non-liability in non-member States and then invoking the lis pendens or related actions exception. However, one may consider that the tools that already exist in the Bia regulation are satisfactory and that no legislative reform is needed on this point. Although relying on the conditions of recognition and the concept of “good administration of justice” can seem a bit vague, it is submitted that a certain degree of judicial discretion is inevitable.

Applicable Law

After jurisdiction, the second question concerns the determination of the law applicable to these actions. As the law stands today, a difficulty arises from the fact that choice of law rules often designate the law of the place of the damage, which in these cases is frequently the law of a country outside the EU with a less developed legal system. In reality, to understand the current situation, a twofold distinction must be made, firstly according to whether or not the defendant is domiciled in the EU, and secondly according to whether it is a question of environmental damage or a human rights violation. With regard to actions against defendants domiciled outside the EU, (i.e. in current litigation, actions against subsidiaries and subcontractors), they will always be governed by the law of the place where the damage occurred, which corresponds to the law of their activity. (It is important to note that this does not necessarily mean impunity for these defendants. For example, in the Shell case the Dutch court held the Nigerian subsidiary liable by virtue of Nigerian law). On the other hand, with regard to actions against parent companies or ordering companies established in the EU, as the law stands today, a distinction must be made between cases involving environmental damage and cases involving a violation of human rights. The former are covered by Article 7 of the Rome II Regulation, which allows the claimant to choose between the law of the place of the event giving rise to the damage and the law of the place where the damage occurred. The latter are covered by Article 4, which designates exclusively the law of the place of the damage. This last rule, in our context, is problematic. This problem is at the origin of the proposal by the European Parliament’s Committee on Legal Affairs to insert an Article 6a on “Actions for breach of human rights in commercial matters” which would have allowed the victim to choose between several laws.

The first question that arose upon publication of the proposal was: do we need a new choice of law rule? Some scholars consider that we do not and that it is sufficient to classify the rules of the future European instrument as overriding mandatory provisions (see. the post of G. Rühl here). However, a different view is possible. It is the opinion of the present writer that a choice of law rule would indeed be useful. Indeed, by definition, only a limited number of provisions can be characterised as overriding mandatory provisions. The rules on limitation, for example, will not be considered as such. However, they can be quite decisive in litigation. The action may be dismissed because, for example, the law of the place of the damage, which is a law of a non-EU country, contains a very short limitation period. Therefore, a choice of law rule would protect the victims more than the overriding mandatory rules method and consequently contribute to the public interest objective of making companies more responsible. In any event, the two methods can be combined. The adoption of a new choice of law rule for human right abuses, would not make the overriding mandatory rules approach irrelevant. This is also the position of the GEDIP. In its recommendation it combines the two approaches.

Extending the Scope of Article 7 Rome II

Going back to the European Parliament’s Committee on Legal Affairs’ proposal, although it is the opinion of the present writer that a special choice of law rule is indeed desirable, the provision as proposed was not immune from criticism (See. O. Boskovic, « La loi applicable aux « actions pour violations des droits de l’homme en matière commerciale », Recueil Dalloz 11 fév. 2021, p. 252). Firstly, having two provisions, one applicable to environmental damage and the other applicable to human rights violations would cause very difficult boundary problems (bearing in mind, for example, that according to some estimates one third of human rights violations involve environmental offences). Secondly, the connecting factors used in the proposed article 6a raised many questions. For this reason, it appears more appropriate to have a single choice of law rule for human rights violations and for environmental damage. Article 7 should therefore be rewritten to include human rights violations. The victim would then be able to choose between the law of the place of the damage and the law of the place where the event giving rise to the damage occurred, which would increase their chances of success. (This is also the position of the GEDIP proposal. However, one should note that the scope of the GEDIP proposal is wider and applies, just like the future European instrument, not only to human rights and environmental damages but also to good governance. The precise definition of this last concept is difficult and the desirability of having the same rule is debatable. This very interesting question was discussed during the above-mentioned webinar organised by the Italian interest group on private international law.) However, this idea then gives rise to another question: How should the “event giving rise to the damage” be interpreted in this context? Obviously, for the text to achieve its objective, it must be accepted that the event giving rise to the damage can, at least if the factual circumstances are appropriate, be located at the place where the decisions were or were not taken, i.e. at the domicile of the parent company (a recital could be inserted to encourage such an interpretation) (I have developed these ideas in O. Boskovic, « La loi applicable aux « actions pour violations des droits de l’homme en matière commerciale », Recueil Dalloz 11 fév. 2021, p. 252.). The Hague Tribunal in the Shell case ruled along these lines in its decision issued on May 26th 2021, which has already been characterised as historical. It is interesting to note that a similar question arose in the Arica v. Boliden case decided by the Swedish courts in 2019. In this case under Swedish choice of law rules, applicable rationae temporis, the lex loci delicti commissi applied. In determining the locus delicti commissi, the court held that the center of gravity should be found and that ‘This center may be established with regard to where the qualitatively important elements have their focus rather than according to quantitative criteria’. Therefore, in this case concerning the export of toxic waste from Sweden to Chile, contrary to the first instance decision, the court of appeal held that the event giving rise to the damage was localized in Sweden. It is certain that agreeing on an adequate choice of law rule is not enough. The localization of the connecting factors is of paramount importance. (A similar question arose in the Nestlé v. Doe case. The Supreme Court explained that, because the ATS does not apply extraterritorially, in order for the court to have jurisdiction “plaintiffs must establish that conduct relevant to the statute’s focus occurred in the United States”. This was not the case because the only relevant alleged domestic conduct by the defendants consisted of general corporate activity-like decisionmaking- which  is insufficient to establish domestic application of the ATS. Contrary to the emerging trend in the EU, the Supreme Court of the US has shown continuous caution on this matter, apparently considering that it is not a matter for judicial lawmaking)

Revising Article 17 Rome II

Another important question concerns situations where poor performance of contractual obligations causes damage to third parties. The Kik case in Germany or Begun v. Maran case in the UK come to mind. A very important step in the fight for corporate accountability would be to facilitate actions brought by these third parties The aim is to ensure that the ethical and environmental clauses contained in international contracts do not remain a dead letter. Indeed, as the Court of Appeal observed in Begun v. Maran, often all protagonists know that theses clauses will be totally ignored. A revision of Article 17 of the Rome II Regulation could thus be envisaged in the form of the addition of a sentence: “Account shall also be taken of the ethical clauses contained in the contracts whose breach has caused the damage.” (on this problem see our forthcoming article « Contrats internationaux et protection de l’environnement », in actes du colloque du 15 juin 2021, Le droit économique, levier de la transition écologique ?)

Finally, it appears that the possibility of applying more widely foreign overriding mandatory provisions would contribute to the pursuit of these global governance goals. A modification of Rome I and Rome II along these lines would be welcome.

As these few remarks show, the debate on private international law aspects of corporate social accountability is far from over.

The author of this post is Erik Sinander, Senior lecturer at the Stockholm University.


In a judgment of 15 July 2021, over two joined Romanian cases (C-152/20 and C-218/20, DG and EH v SC Gruber Logistics SRL and Sindicatul Lucrătorilor din Transporturi v SC Samidani Trans SRL), the CJEU confirmed that the choice of law rule for employment contracts in Article 8 of the Rome I Regulation demands parallel application (dépeçage) of the law chosen by the parties and the law that would have been applicable if no choice of law was done. Both cases concerned whether lorry drivers employed by Romanian companies were entitled to minimum wage according to Italian respectively German law despite the fact that Romanian law was chosen for the employment contracts.

In its judgment, the CJEU confirmed that the law that the parties have chosen in their employment contract (subjectively applicable law) shall be applied as a starting point and that the law that would have been applicable if no choice of law would have been done (objectively applicable law) shall breakthrough in issues where the latter law offers the employee protection that cannot be derogated from by agreement under that law. The court reiterated the wording of the Regulation as it confirmed that whether a provision in the objectively applicable law can be derogated from shall be decided according to that law. Further, the court held that the prerequisite of a free choice according to Article 3 is not invoked solely by the fact that the choice of law clause has been included in the contract by the employer in a pre-formulated employment contract.

The judgment is in no way surprising, but the trickiest part of the parallel application methodology prescribed in Article 8 is left undiscussed. For the objectively applicable law to breakthrough it is not enough that the provision is mandatory. In addition, it must also offer the employee protection. How do we then know whether the employee is offered protection by the provision in the objectively applicable law? That this issue was not discussed in the judgment can simply be explained by the fact that the Romanian courts did not ask about it. Nonetheless, it is an interesting issue that deserves some attention.

As long as the employment protection mechanism in the subjectively applicable law and the objectively applicable law are equivalent, Article 8 is unproblematic. A lower minimum wage according to the subjectively applicable law can simply be replaced by the rules granting higher minimum wage in the objectively applicable law. When the two laws’ employment protection mechanisms are based on different ideas, it is harder to make the comparison. That might be the case if the matter concerns a wrongful dismissal and the subjectively applicable law offers a stronger right for the employee to return to the job whereas the objectively applicable law offers better compensation. In such a situation, the court can hardly make this evaluation as there is no objective way to evaluate different employment protection mechanisms.

Personally I think that the idea of international harmony of decisions shall be leading for how the evaluation of protection provisions shall be made according to Article 8 of the Rome I Regulation. To let the courts decide the evaluation of different employment protection mechanisms will inevitably lead to a situation where the decisions are dependent on where they are settled. That would be unsatisfactory. Instead, it would be preferable to let the employee decide self whether the objectively applicable law shall prevail in a specific situation. Such a method is of course casuistic, but it is the more reasonable solution. Relying on the employee’s own choice has the advantage that it simplifies the comparison for the court.

The author of this post is Carlos Santaló Goris, research fellow at the MPI Luxembourg and Ph.D. candidate at the University of Luxembourg.


Regulation (EC) No 1896/2006 establishing the European Payment Order (‘EPO’) introduced the first EU uniform civil procedure. The EPO Regulation aimed at facilitating the cross-border recovery of debt within the EU.

According to statistics published by the Spanish General Council of the Judiciary, in 2017, Spanish courts issued a total 655 EPOs. In 2018, the number of EPOs increased 898,32%, up to 5.884 EPOs. In 2019, the number of EPOs continued increasing, skyrocketing to the gargantuan number of 29.120 EPOs. In 2020, though there was a decrease with respect to the previous year, Spanish courts still issued 21.636 EPOs.

Just for the sake of comparison: during the same period there were much fewer applications for EPOs. in Germany: 3.706 applications in 2018, 3.577 in 2019, and 3.582 in 2020.

What is the reason behind the abnormal increase in the number of EPOs issued by Spanish courts between 2017 and 2019? In my view, the answer is to be found in the difference between the EPO and the Spanish payment order regarding the courts’ possibility (obligation) to assess the fairness of contractual terms in consumer claims under Directive 93/13 on unfair terms in consumer contracts.

Under the Spanish payment order, a court receiving an application for a payment order involving a consumer party had to evaluate the fairness of the contractual terms of the relation between the creditor and the consumer. Mandatory review was the conequence of the ECJ judgment, C618/10, Banco Español de Crédito. According to the ECJ, “Directive 93/13 must be interpreted as precluding legislation of a Member State, such as that at issue in the main proceedings, which does not allow the court before which an application for an order for payment has been brought to assess of its own motion, in limine litis or at any other stage during the proceedings, even though it already has the legal and factual elements necessary for that task available to it, whether a term concerning interest on late payments contained in a contract concluded between a seller or supplier and a consumer is unfair, in the case where that consumer has not lodged an objection” (para. 57).

Unlike the Spanish payment order procedure, the EPO follows a non-documentary procedure. Creditors do not have to provide any documents – only the application standard form. In particular, they do not have to provide the contract on which the claim is based; they are only required to describe “the circumstances invoked as the basis of the claim” and a “description of evidence supporting the claim” (Article 7(2) EPO Regulation). The ECJ had made it clear “that Article 7 of Regulation No 1896/2006 governs the requirements exhaustively to be met by an application for a European order for payment can ensure that the objective of the regulation is attained” (C-215/11, Szyrocka, para. 32). Furthermore, according to the Spanish act implementing the EPO Regulation any documents other than the standard form would be inadmissible when applying for the EPO (23rd final provision of Spanish Code of Civil Procedure). Based on the information that creditors provide in the EPO application, Spanish courts could not examine the fairness of the contractual terms as they would in the national payment order. Aware of this, more creditors started to apply for EPOs, thus provoking the increased number of applications.

Since the EPO Regulation only applies to cross-border claims, many claims which initially had a purely domestic origin had to be “transformed” into cross-border ones. According to Article 3 of the EPO Regulation, the cross-border dimension of a claim is established when “at least one of the parties is domiciled or habitually resident in a Member State other than the Member State of the court seised.” To satisfy this prerequisite, domestic creditors assigned the debt to a new creditor in another Member State (often vulture funds or companies specialized in debt recovery).

The flood of EPO applications in consumer claims did not pass by unnoticed by Spanish judges. Three Spanish courts submitted requests for preliminary rulings to the ECJ asking whether judges could ask the EPO applicant for additional documents in order to conduct an ex officio review of the fairness of the contractual terms. Two of those preliminary references led to the ECJ judgment C453/18 and C494/18, Bondora. In this decision, the ECJ determined that “a ‘court’, within the meaning of that regulation, seised in the context of a European order for payment procedure, to request from the creditor additional information relating to the terms of the agreement relied on in support of the claim at issue, in order to carry out an ex officio review of the possible unfairness of those terms and, consequently, that they preclude national legislation which declares the additional documents provided for that purpose to be inadmissible” (para. 54).

Bondora opened the door the examination of the fairness of the contractual terms in the context of the EPO procedure. From the creditors’ perspective, this judgment put a virtual end to the comparative advantage that the EPO Regulation had over the Spanish payment order in claims against consumers.

But, has the Bondora decision already impacted the number of EPO applications? Difficult to say. The decision was published in December 2019. In 2020, there was a decrease of 7.515 EPOs rendered by Spanish courts as compared to 2019. However, the number of EPOs still remained highly superior to the average amount of yearly EPOs issued by Spanish courts before 2018. More likely, the COVID-19 pandemic explains the decline. It is only in the coming years where we might see whether Bondora has caused the EPO Regulation to lose its charm among Spanish creditors or not.

The author of this post is Christelle Chalas, who is an Associate Professor at the University of Lille. 


Background

The French law on the compliance with the Republican Principles (projet de loi confortant le respect des principes de la République) introduces a new paragraph in Article 913 of the French Civil Code aiming at re-establishing a right of ‘compensatory levy’ (droit de prélèvement compensatoire) on property situated in France for the benefit of children who would not benefit from a reserved share of inheritance.

Its scope is limited to cases where either the deceased or one of his or her children is a national of a Member State of the European Union or a person whose habitual residence is in such a State.

The new text reads:

Lorsque le défunt ou au moins l’un de ses enfants est, au moment du décès, ressortissant d’un État membre de l’Union européenne ou y réside habituellement et lorsque la loi étrangère applicable à la succession ne permet aucun mécanisme réservataire protecteur des enfants, chaque enfant ou ses héritiers ou ses ayants cause peuvent effectuer un prélèvement compensatoire sur les biens existants situés en France au jour du décès, de façon à être rétablis dans les droits réservataires que leur octroie la loi française, dans la limite de ceux-ci.

The law was eventually adopted by the National Assembly on 23 July 2021. The bill had been rejected twice by the Senate in April 2021 (see here) and then on 20 July 2021, but the National Assembly had voted twice in favour of its adoption (in February and July 2021, see here). Under the French legislative system, the Assembly’s deliberations ultimately prevail. The constitutionality of the bill was immediately challenged before the Constitutional Council (Conseil constitutionnel) (see below).

A compensatory levy was instituted in French inheritance law by the law of the 14 July 1819 but it was found to be unconstitutional by the Constitutional Council in 2011 (see here) on the ground that it disregarded the principle of equality by establishing an inequal treatment based on nationality between the heirs designated by the foreign inheritance law.

Although the new text avoids this obvious violation of the principle of equality by granting this right to all heirs whatever their nationality or residence, it raises several problems that threaten its validity.

These problems are interesting because they illustrate the small margin of freedom that national legislators still enjoy in particular with regard to European law. From a domestic perspective, issues of constitutionality also arose.

Is the New Provision Unconstitutional?

Regarding the conformity of Article 913 with the French Constitution, it is submitted that the main concern is the appropriateness of the “droit de prélèvement” with regard to the purpose of the law. It was said during the discussion in the Senate, and shown in French doctrine (Revue critique de DIP 2021, issue 2, announced here) that there is a high risk that the provision misses its target.

The purpose of Article 913 is to steer against the effects of an applicable foreign inheritance law that would discriminate between heirs according to their sex or religion. More specifically, the government did not hide that the provision aims at protecting female heirs from the inheritance laws of Muslim countries. But, since Article 913 does not limit its application to discriminatory foreign laws, but is concerned with foreign laws which “do not permit any reserved share mechanism”, the provision could reach situations that in no way threaten “Republican Principles” (here, equality) and, conversely, Article 913 could miss situations that do threaten these principles. Indeed, the laws of common law countries could be concerned as they do not provide for reserved shares, while, on the contrary, Article 913 could possibly not apply to Muslim laws since they might provide for a reserved share.

One can also be very critical about the weakness of the required connection with France: by rendering the mechanism available to all children heirs as long as only one of them, or the deceased, is a national of a Member State of the EU or is resident in one of theses states, it is very easy to imagine situations in which the protection of the French law will appear inappropriate, if not illegitimate. The real object of the law remains unclear and this raises concerns about the adequacy of the compensatory system set in place. This could be a reason for unconstitutionality.

Furthermore, if the only purpose of Article 913 is to fight against discriminatory foreign laws, the public policy exception should be efficient enough. The French Supreme Court for civil and criminal matters (Cour de cassation) could transpose its own jurisprudence on repudiation to the context of reserved share in inheritance law.

The other advantage of the public policy exception is that it allows a concrete and factual assessment of the result produced by the application of the foreign law.  For example, the family provisions of English law would be spared by the public policy exception while it is not sure that the new text would not receive application in this case.

Unfortunately, it does not seem that any of the parties who participated in the challenge of the constitutionality of the law raised any argument with respect to the new provision. On August, 13th, 2021, the Constitutional Council delivered its decision without addressing the issue.

A Risk of Euro-Incompatibility?

The conformity of Article 913 with the European Succession Regulation could also be questioned on several grounds.

Article 23 of the Regulation provides that “the law determined pursuant to Article 21 and Article 22 shall govern the succession as a whole. That law shall govern in particular, … the disposable part of the estate, the reserved shares and other restrictions on the disposal of property upon death as well as claims which persons close to the deceased may have against the estate or the heirs”. By putting in place a right of compensatory levy on property situated in France, Article 13 sets a new exemption on the applicable law designated by the Regulation.

The European Court of justice might not accept this type of circumvention of the applicable law, in particular when the deceased person has chosen its national law in accordance with Article 22. Recital 38 of the Preamble to the Regulation specifies that the choice of law is limited to the national law of the deceased precisely with the objective “to avoid a law being chosen with the intention of frustrating the legitimate expectations of persons entitled to a reserved share”. A limited and voluntary infringement to the reserved share is thus admitted by the Succession Regulation.

Article 913 would also possibly run against Recital 37 that states that the succession should be govern by a predictable law with which it is closely connected. Predictability and necessity of a close connection between the applicable law and the succession are clearly challenged by the French draft provision. Recital 37 also recommends that “for reasons of legal certainty and in order to avoid the frag­mentation of the succession, that law should govern the succession as a whole”. On the contrary, the compensatory levy instituted by French law results in the application of several inheritance laws.

The only solution would be to consider that the French compensatory levy right falls under the public policy exception set out in Article 35 of the Regulation. But neither here can there be certainty. As is well known, the Court of Justice supports a very restrictive application of the public policy exception, which is reinforced by the requirement in Article 35 that the application of a provision of the law specified by the Regulation should be “manifestly incompatible” with the public policy of the relevant State. Through its control, The European Court of Justice limits any misuse of the concept of public policy that would have the effect of impeding the effectiveness of European regulations.

In this respect, it seems that the nuanced jurisprudence of the French Supreme Court, which limits the exclusion of foreign law to cases where a child heir is in a situation of economic insecurity or need, is more in line with the requirement of Article 35.

As reported by Fabienne Jault-Seseke on this blog, the French supreme court for civil and criminal matters (Cour de cassation) ruled in a judgment of 26 May 2021 that “the principles of primacy and effectiveness of European Union law” require that French courts apply ex officio certain choice of law rules contained in EU Regulations.

This is a significant evolution from the doctrine that the court had adopted 20 years ago. This doctrine was the result of decades of academic debates and changes in the case law of the court. Interestingly enough, at the end of the 1980s, the court had ruled that choice of law rules contained in international conventions (essentially the conventions negotiated under the aegis of the Hague Conference of Private International Law) deserved a different status and should be applied ex officio, but the court dropped this exception a few years later.

Background: The Peculiar Consequence of Applying Choice of Law Rules

As most civil law jurisdictions, France recognises the principle jura novit curia. Article 12 of the French Code of Civil Procedure provides that courts must decides disputes in accordance with the legal rules which are applicable and that they should do so ex officio if necessary.

The extension of these principles to choice of law rules was always debated, however. One likely explanation is that the operation of choice of law rules may result in the designation of foreign law. The content of foreign law needs then to be determined, and this process typically involves private experts who must be remunerated (remarkably, French courts virtually never appoint judicial experts for that purpose, although they routinely do so for establishing complex facts). It is understandable, therefore, that the parties would not always want to engage the resources for establishing the content of foreign law, in particular for cases with limited financial stakes, or involving impecunious parties. The obligation to apply systematically choice of law rules may thus have appeared as generating severe practical difficulties, and it took the Cour de cassation decades to craft a doctrine which would weigh the competing interests in a satisfactory manner.

Why Impose Ex Officio Application when the Parties Could Settle?

The current doctrine of the court was adopted in two judgments of 26 May 1999. The obligation of French courts to apply ex officio choice of law rules has since then been based on a major distinction. In matters where the parties may not dispose of their rights (e.g. parenthood, as in the first 1999 judgment), French courts ought to apply choice of law rules ex officio. In contrast, in matters where the parties may dispose of their rights (e.g. an international sale of goods, as in the second 1999 judgment), French courts have no obligation to apply choice of law rules if none of the parties raised their application or the application of foreign law. The system is mixed: some choice of law rules must be applied ex officio, others need not.

The distinction is between rights that the parties may dispose of, and rights that parties may not dispose of. The origin of the distinction is to be found in the writings of the most influential scholar in French private international law in the last decades, Pierre Mayer. Mayer argued that, while in principle foreign law should be considered as law and thus applied ex officio, an exception should be made for those rights which the parties could modify, and indeed waive. This is because they could decide to settle their dispute at any time, under any terms. Thus, a pragmatic solution should be to allow them to argue their case under the (French) law of the forum if they so wish. Just as they could have ignored the content of the applicable law to reach a settlement, they should be allowed to implicitly designate another law.

The Scope of the New Obligation to Apply EU Choice of Law Rules Ex Officio

The new rule laid down by the court in the judgment of 26 May 2021 establishes a distinction between two categories of EU choice of law rules. The Cour de cassation rules that the obligation to apply them ex officio is limited to mandatory choice of law rules, and that mandatory choice of law rules are rules that cannot be derogated from. This is a clear reference to party autonomy, that many EU regulations of private international law recognise. The meaning of the ruling is thus that the obligation is limited to the application of choice of law rules for which the European lawmaker did not grant freedom of choice to the parties.

The particular case was concerned with a tort action for unfair competition. The applicable choice of law rule is contained in Article 6 of the Rome II Regulation, and it expressly excludes the power of the parties to choose the applicable law (Art. 6(4)). The rule in Article 6 is thus to be considered as an EU mandatory choice of law rule, and French courts must now apply it ex officio.

In contrast, the general choice of law rule in Article 4 of the Rome II Regulation (application of the law of the place of damage in tort actions) is a default choice of law rule. It only applies in the absence of a choice of the applicable law made by the parties pursuant to Article 14 of the Rome II Regulation. Likewise, in contractual matters, the parties may choose the law governing their contract in most cases (under Article 3), which means than most choice of law rules contained in the Rome I Regulation are defaults.

Although the Court does not say so, it seems clear that the distinction that it has introduced is inspired from its 20 year old doctrine distinguishing between rights that the parties may dispose of, and rights that parties may not dispose of. But it is not absolutely identical. In this case, the action was concerned with an act of unfair competition which affected exclusively the interests of a single competitor (Rome II Regulation, Art. 6(2)). It was governed by general fault based tort liability. The interests involved were purely private, and it is likely that the parties could freely settle the action. Under the old doctrine, it seems that a French court would not have had the obligation to apply the choice of law rule ex officio. Under the new doctrine, it should have, because the parties may not freely choose the applicable law (although they may still freely settle).

Primacy and Effectiveness of EU Law?

Would it be a problem for the effectiveness of EU law if the parties were allowed to argue a case of unfair competition under the law of the forum instead of the law designated by the applicable EU choice of law rule? The Brussels Ibis Regulation grants jurisdiction to a number of courts in the EU, and other courts might apply all choice of law rules ex officio. In most Member States, however, the idea that courts, after ruling that foreign law applies, might then go on and establish the content of foreign law without the cooperation of the parties is, at best, unrealistic. And in most Member States, if foreign law cannot be established, courts will apply the law of the forum. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.

So the crucial question is that of the establishment of the content of foreign law. At the present time, the courts of most Member States do not have the possibility to ascertain the content of foreign law without the assistance of the parties. For this to change, considerable resources would need to be invested, to establish either centre(s) of comparative law which could provide expert opinions, or a network of courts which would be required to cooperate for that purpose. As long as these resources are not invested, the issue of the ex officio application of choice of law rules cannot be addressed without taking into account the interests of the parties.

Crossposted at EULawLive.

After arguing that States Should Not Ratify, and Should Instead Denounce, the Hague Choice-Of-Court Agreements Convention, Gary Born received a series of serious criticisms by Trevor Hartley, Andreas Bucher and the Hague Conference of Private International Law.

Mr Born has responded to some of these criticisms in two further posts at the Kluwer Arbitration Blog.

At the invitation of the Editors of the EAPIL Blog, Trevor Hartley, Professor emeritus at the London School of Economics, offers the following rejoinder.


I assume we can all agree on two things: first, corrupt and biased judges exist; secondly, corrupt and biased arbitrators exist. Since the parties to an arbitration agreement choose the arbitrators and the parties to a choice-of-court agreement choose the court, this ought not to be a problem. However, for one reason or another, a party to an arbitration agreement may find himself before an arbitrator whom he believes to be corrupt and biased; likewise, a party to a choice-of-court agreement may find himself before a judge whom he believes to be corrupt and biased. If we can agree on all this, the matter comes down to the safeguards against the enforcement of a corrupt award under the New York Convention and the safeguards against the enforcement of a corrupt judgment under the Hague Convention. I want to examine this in order to see how the two instruments compare.

The grounds for refusing to recognize or enforce an award are set out in Article V of the New York Convention. The equivalent grounds under the Hague Convention are in Article 9. We will consider them one by one.

Arbitration Agreement Invalid

Under New York, an award will not be recognized or enforced if the arbitration agreement was invalid: Article V(1)(a). This covers incapacity of the parties and other grounds of invalidity. The capacity of the parties is governed by ‘the law applicable to them’; other grounds of validity are governed by the law to which the parties have subjected the agreement or, failing any indication thereon, the law of the country where the award was made. Under Hague, a judgment under a choice-of-court agreement will also be refused recognition if the agreement is null and void: Article 9(a). The applicable law is stated to be the law of the State of the chosen court; but if the chosen court has already held the agreement to be valid, this is conclusive.

However, under Article 9(b) of Hague, recognition and enforcement may also be refused if a party lacked capacity to conclude the agreement under the law of the requested State (the State asked to recognize the judgment). Thus, New York is slightly stronger in general, in that it gives the parties the right to subject the validity of the agreement to some law other than that of the country where the award is made. However, Hague is slightly stronger as regards capacity, in that it requires capacity to exist under both the law of the chosen court and the law of the country asked to recognize the judgment.

Insufficient Notice

Under New York, another ground for non-recognition is that the party against whom the award is invoked was not given proper notice of the appointment of the arbitrator or of the arbitration proceedings or was otherwise unable to present his case: Article V(1)(b). Under Hague, there are two grounds for non-recognition. Under Article 9(c)(i), recognition may be refused if the document which instituted the proceedings (or an equivalent document, including the essential elements of the claim) was not notified to the defendant in sufficient time and in such a way as to enable him to arrange for his defence. However, the defendant loses this right if he entered an appearance and presented his case without contesting notification in the court of origin (provided that the law of the State of origin permitted notification to be contested). This has the same effect as the ground under New York, though Hague is more fleshed out. The second ground under Hague is that the document was notified to the defendant in the requested State in a manner that was incompatible with fundamental principles of the requested State concerning service of documents: Article 9(c)(ii). This has no equivalent under New York.

New York is slightly wider in that it also permits non-recognition where the party is ‘otherwise unable to present his case’. There is no exact equivalent to this under Hague, though if his inability to present his case is due to chicanery by the other party, Article 9(d) would come into play. This gives another ground for non-recognition, namely that the judgment was obtained by fraud in connection with a matter of procedure.

Outside the Scope of the Submission

Under New York, recognition of an award can be challenged on the ground that the award deals with a difference outside the scope of the submission to arbitration: New York, Article V(1)(c). At first sight, there appears to be no equivalent to this in Hague. However, the duty to recognize and enforce a judgment applies only to a judgment given by a court of a Contracting State ‘designated in an exclusive choice of court agreement’: Hague, Article 8(1). The term ‘exclusive choice of court agreement’ is defined in Article 3(a) as an agreement that designates a court (or several courts) ‘for the purpose of deciding disputes which have arisen or may arise in connection with a particular legal relationship’ (italics added). If the designated court decided a matter that did not concern the legal relationship specified in the choice-of-court agreement, it could be argued that the court was no longer designated in the choice-of-court agreement. Then the judgment would not be subject to recognition and enforcement under the Convention. If this is right—and it surely must be—the Hague Convention produces the same result.

Composition of the Arbitral Authority

Another ground for non-recognition under New York is that the composition of the arbitral authority or the arbitral procedure was not in accordance with the agreement of the parties (or, failing such agreement, was not in accordance with the law of the country where the arbitration took place): New York, Article V(1)(d). For obvious reasons, there is no equivalent to this under Hague. However, if the court which gave the judgment was not designated in the choice-of-court agreement, the judgment would not, for the reasons explained in the previous paragraph, be subject to recognition and enforcement under the Convention.

Award Not Binding on the Parties

Under New York, recognition and enforcement of an award may be refused if it has not yet become binding on the parties, or has been set aside or suspended by a competent authority of the country in which, or under the law of which, that award was made: Article V(1)(e). This is supported by Article VI, which makes provision for the adjournment of enforcement proceedings where an application is made for the setting aside or suspension of the award. Under Hague, there are two provisions, which together have the same effect. The first is Article 8(3), which provides that a judgment will be recognized only if it has effect in the State of origin and will be enforced only if it is enforceable in the State of origin. If has been set aside or suspended in the State of origin, it will not be recognized or enforced. The second is Article 8(4), which provides that recognition or enforcement may be postponed or refused if the judgment is the subject of review in the State of origin or if the time limit for seeking ordinary review has not expired. (It goes on to say that a refusal does not prevent a subsequent application for recognition or enforcement of the judgment.) Taken together, these provisions give protection that is at least as good as that under New York.

Subject Matter Not Capable of Settlement by Arbitration

Another ground for non-recognition under New York is that the subject matter of the difference is not capable of settlement by arbitration under the law of the country in which enforcement is sought. There is no equivalent to this under Hague since there are few matters within the subject-matter scope of the Convention that are not capable of settlement by a court. However, if the judgment did concern such a matter, public policy could be invoked.

Public Policy

In both New York and Hague, the most important safeguard is the provision which allows recognition and enforcement to be refused on the ground of public policy. The relevant provision in New York is Article V(2)(b) and in Hague it is Article 9(e). The provision in New York simply says that recognition and enforcement may be refused if it would be contrary to the public policy of the country concerned. Hague, however, is a little more detailed. After saying that recognition or enforcement may be refused if it would be manifestly incompatible with the public policy of the requested State, it adds ‘including situations where the specific proceedings leading to the judgment were incompatible with fundamental principles of procedural fairness of that State’.

A Problem

This all seems clear; however, there is a problem. Article 8(2) of Hague provides that the court asked to recognize and enforce the judgment is bound by the findings of fact on which the court of origin based its jurisdiction (unless the judgment was given by default). Does this mean that if the court of origin ruled that its members were not corrupt, the court asked to recognize and enforce the judgment cannot question this? If this were true, it would be a serious defect. However, the answer is given in the Explanatory Report, which was approved by all the States that participated in the Conference which drew up the Convention. The relevant paragraphs are 166–169. The first point made is that the court addressed will not have to accept the legal evaluation of the facts adopted by the court of origin. For example, if the court of origin found that the choice-of-court agreement was concluded by electronic means that satisfied the requirements of the Convention, the court addressed would be bound by the finding that the agreement was concluded by electronic means, but not by the finding that it satisfied the requirements of the Convention.

The second point is that the court asked to recognize and enforce the judgment is only bound by the findings of fact of the court of origin with regard to the grounds of non-recognition specified in Article 9(a) and (b). The rule does not apply to the grounds in the other sub-paragraphs of Article 9, that is sub-paragraphs (c), (d) and (e). This is because these latter provisions do not concern jurisdiction. The Report states in paragraph 167:

The position is different with regard to the grounds of non-recognition laid down in sub-paragraphs c), d) and e) of Article 9. These are not concerned with jurisdiction under the Convention, but with public policy and procedural fairness. Thus, the court addressed must be able to decide for itself, in accordance with these sub-paragraphs, whether the defendant was notified; whether there was fraud; or whether there was a fair trial: a finding by the judge of origin that he did not take a bribe, for example, cannot be binding on the court addressed.

A footnote adds that this also applies to a finding by an appeal court that the first instance judge was not guilty of corruption.

Paragraph 168 of the Report continues:

The same is true with regard to procedural fairness under sub-paragraph e). Assume that the defendant resists recognition and enforcement on the ground that the proceedings were incompatible with the fundamental principles of procedural fairness of the requested State. He claims that he was not able to go to the State of origin to defend the case because he would have been in danger of imprisonment on political grounds. A finding by the court of origin that this was not true cannot be binding on the court addressed. Where matters of procedural fairness are concerned, the court addressed must be able to decide for itself.

In view of this, we can conclude that rule that findings of fact are binding does not seriously compromise the safeguards.

Conclusions

As this short discussion has shown, the safeguards in the two instruments have almost the same effect. One cannot say that one is better than the other. In any event, where the judgment is tainted by corruption or bias, public policy would always ensure that it was not recognized or enforced. Of course, there is the question of proof, but this is just as much a problem in the case of an award as in the case of a judgment.

The authors of this post are Lena Hornkohl, LL.M. (College of Europe), Senior Research Fellow Max Planck Institute Luxembourg for Procedural Law, and Priyanka Jain, LL.M. (Coventry University), Research Fellow Max Planck Institute Luxembourg for Procedural Law.


On 15 July 2021, the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU) issued an important judgment regarding the interpretation of Article 7(2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation in the context of the Trucks cartel with huge implications beyond the competition law context.

Essentially, the CJEU held that Article 7(2) of the Regulation concerns both international and territorial jurisdiction. However, Member States are free to centralise the handling of particular types of disputes, such as disputes relating to anti-competitive practices, to a single specialised court. Outside of such specialisation, Article 7(2) confers international and territorial jurisdiction on the court within whose jurisdiction the harmed undertaking purchased the goods affected by those arrangements or, in the case of purchases made by that undertaking in several places, the court within whose jurisdiction the harmed undertaking’s registered office is situated.

Background

In 2016, the European Commission had fined several truck manufacturers for cartel infringements conducted between 17 January 1997 and 18 January 2011 in proceedings under Article 101 TFEU and Article 53 of the EEA Agreement. Between 2004 and 2009, RH, established in Cordoba (Spain), purchased five trucks from a Spanish subsidiary of the cartelists with registered offices in Madrid (Spain). Subsequently, RH brought an action for cartel damages against the parent companies (with domicile outside of Spain) and the Spanish subsidiary before the Juzgado de lo Mercantil no 2 de Madrid (Commercial Court No 2, Madrid, Spain).

The Spanish court was uncertain as to how Article 7(2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation is interpreted, mainly whether it concerns international and territorial jurisdiction. In its judgment, the CJEU now largely follows the opinion of Advocate General Jean Richard De La Tour of 22 April 2021.

Private Enforcement of EU Competition Law and Article 7(2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation

Article 7(2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation confers jurisdiction on the courts for the ‘place where the harmful event has occurred’. Particularly in the context of cross-border infringements of Article 101 TFEU, the place where the damage occurred has been a constant source for preliminary references.

To recap where we stand today: In CDC Hydrogen Peroxide (C-352/13), the CJEU established that in cartel damages actions brought against defendants domiciled in the various Member States and who participated in the cartel infringement at different times in different places, the harmful event occurred in relation to each alleged victim on an individual basis. This can entail the place where the claimant company has its registered office. In Tibor-Trans (C‑451/18), the CJEU transferred the established dual concept for Article 7(2) Brussels Ibis Regulation to private enforcement of competition law: the place where the harmful event has occurred is intended to cover both the place where the damage occurred and the place of the event giving rise to it. It means that the defendant may be sued, at the applicant’s option, in the courts for either of those places.

The CJEU already held in Tibor-Trans that if it is apparent from the decision at issue that the infringement established in Article 101 TFEU giving rise to the alleged damage covered the entire EEA market, the place where that damage occurred, is in that market, of which the individual Member States form part. In the present judgment, Volvo and Others, the CJEU underlines this once more for Spain in particular (para. 31).

Article 7(2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation Confers International and Territorial Jurisdiction

The CJEU then goes beyond established case law and touches upon an issue relevant beyond cartel damages actions: Article 7(2) Brussels Ibis Regulation confers both international and territorial jurisdiction on the courts for the place where the damage occurred (para. 33). In case a Member State has jurisdiction according to Article 7(2) Brussels Ibis Regulation (i.e. international jurisdiction), Article 7(2) Brussels Ibis Regulation also determines which court within the Member State has jurisdiction (i.e. territorial jurisdiction) – both according to the autonomous interpretation of Article 7(2) Brussels Ibis Regulation. Member States cannot apply different criteria for the conferral of jurisdiction (para. 34).

In its reasoning, the Court first refers to the wording of the provision. Indeed, Article 7(2) Brussels Ibis Regulation points specifically to ‘the courts for the place where the harmful event occurred’ and not simply (the territory of) the Member States alone. This interpretation is also in line with the CJEU’s reasoning in Wikingerhof (C-59/19), which concerned an abuse of dominance case and in which the CJEU referred to the court in particular (and not only the Member State’s territory as a whole). Second, the CJEU resorts to a historical interpretation and a rare literature review, as it mentions that its interpretation is following P. Jenards report on the Convention of 27 September 1968 on jurisdiction and the enforcement of judgments in civil and commercial matters (sadly leaving out P. Schlosser’s report previously cited by the Advocate General).

Member State Competence: Centralisation of Jurisdiction in Specialised Courts

However, the Member States have not lost all their say in the matter. The CJEU noted that the Member States have the option, as part of the organisational competence for their courts, to centralise the handling of disputes relating to anti-competitive practices in certain specialist courts (paras. 34 – 37). This specialised court would have exclusive jurisdiction irrespective of where the damage occurred within the Member State. Unfortunately, the CJEU did not use the opportunity to clarify how this centralisation would be possible given the absence of any centralisation rules in the underlying dispute.

In its reasoning, the CJEU stressed the complexity of the rules applicable to cartel damages actions, which argues in favour of centralisation of jurisdiction within the Member States. Furthermore, the CJEU mainly follows Advocate General De La Tour’s analogy to the Sanders and Huber (C-400/13 and C-408/13) judgment by stating that ‘a centralisation of jurisdiction before a single specialised court may be justified in the interests of the sound administration of justice’. While Sanders and Huber concerned a matter relating to cross-border maintenance obligations under Regulation EC No 4/2009, the ideas can indeed be transferred to the Brussels I bis Regulation, as the disputed provision of Regulation EC No 4/2009 in Sanders and Huber was one of the provisions relating to the rules on jurisdiction which replaced those in the Brussels I bis Regulation. In Sanders and Huber, the CJEU established that, although the jurisdiction rules have been harmonised by the determination of common connecting factors, the specific identification of the competent court remains a matter for the Member States.

Surprisingly and contrary to Advocate General De La Tour (and the EU legislator in procedural contexts), the CJEU does not expressly mention procedural autonomy and the principles of equivalence and effectiveness. Likely, as general principles of EU law, they are a no-brainer in the view of the Court: Member States have the organisational competence to centralise proceedings, subject to compliance with the principles of equivalence and effectiveness.

Absence of Specialised Court: The Place Where the Goods are Purchased or the Harmed Undertakings Registered Office

For Member States without any centralisation rules, such as in the present case, the CJEU provides further guidance on identifying the place where the damage occurred to ascertain the court having jurisdiction within the Member State in cartel damages actions. Naturally, as both territorial and international jurisdiction are determined by Article 7(2) Brussels Ibis Regulations, the following statements are also applicable to international jurisdiction.

The CJEU here combines two strains of case law, which from now on should be considered one after the other. First, by analogy outside of competition law to Verein für Konsumenteninformation (C‑343/19), it held that the place where the affected goods were purchased determines which court has jurisdiction (paras. 39, 40). However, this is rightfully only applicable when ‘the purchaser that has been harmed exclusively purchased goods affected by the collusive arrangements in question within the jurisdiction of a single court’ since ‘[o]therwise, it would not be possible to identify a single place of occurrence of damage with regard to the purchaser harmed’. Second, the CJEU refers to CDC Hydrogen Peroxide and the above-mentioned concept of the harmed company’s registered office (paras. 41, 42). In case of purchases made in several places, which is likely in the context of big, lengthy cartels, the courts of the place where the harmed undertaking has its registered office have jurisdiction.

In its justification, the CJEU rightfully refers to the principles of proximity, predictability and sound administration of justice. Both – the place where the goods were purchased and the harmed company’s registered office – allow a certain proximity and efficacious conduct of proceedings. The CJEU also gives a clear, predictable roadmap for claimants and, thus, predictability: in case the affected goods were purchased in one place, that court has jurisdiction; in case the goods were purchased in several places, the court within whose jurisdiction the harmed undertaking’s registered office is situated, has jurisdiction.

Comment and Conclusion

The judgment fills in another gap in the Article 7(2)-saga. Article 7(2) Brussels I bis Regulation nevertheless generally remains to be one of the troublemakers of the Brussels I bis Regulation, which will be up for a possible revision or at least a report soon (Article 79 Brussels I bis Regulation: 11 January 2022).

For now, the judgment has vast implications in- and outside of the competition law context. In the competition context, it determines a clear roadmap for international and territorial jurisdiction in the sense of Article 7(2) of the Brussels I bisRegulation outside of centralisation. In general, the judgment underlines a prevailing opinion in academia: Article 7(2) Brussels Ibis Regulation confers both international and territorial jurisdiction.

Particularly for competition law, but also for other sectors which are highly complex or demand technical expertise, the judgment highlights the huge potential for centralised and specialised courts (recently also discussed in an article available here). At the moment, Member States largely lack centralised and specialised courts in the competition context. Advocate General De La Tour already underlined that the centralisation of jurisdiction promotes the development of the necessary specific expertise. This idea can be spun even further. The efficiency of centralised and specialised courts could be increased by introducing competition lay judges. They could make the expensive experts in cartel damages actions to some degree obsolete. At the centralised courts, the competition lay judges could assess a case based on their particular professional qualifications and business experience, which allows for a practical and appropriate judgment in competition disputes.

Beyond competition law, we want to mention another area that is in desperate need of concentration provisions: collective consumer redress. Establishing a centralised court for collective redress is essential, in our opinion, for the Representative Actions Directive to become a successful instrument. The future central court could ensure a uniform and coherent application of the Directive and become a specialised court with judges skilled in dealing with the complexity of collective litigation.

Inspiration can be taken from initiatives of centralisation in the other Member States. In the Czech Republic, the Parliament recently passed an Act (218/2021) that enables the concentration of applications for recovery under the European Account Preservation Order in a single court in the country. Questions nevertheless remain: when complexity and technicality call for centralisation, where do we draw the line? When are general courts sufficient, and where do we need specialisation? Here, further (EU) coordination would be helpful.

The author of this post is Burcu Yüksel Ripley, who is a Lecturer in law and the Director of the Centre for Commercial Law at the University of Aberdeen.


In the legal proceedings that European Union (EU) brought before the Belgian courts against AstraZeneca in April 2021 and May 2021, one of the key questions is the law applicable to the Advance Purchase Agreement (“APA”) for the production, purchase and supply of a Covid-19 Vaccine in the European Union signed between the European Commission (with a business address in Belgium) and AstraZeneca (incorporated in Sweden with a business address therein) on 27 August 2020.

Since the publication of the APA, which is governed by the laws of Belgium as per its Section 18.4, there have been discussions around whether the United Nations Convention on Contracts for the International Sale of Goods (known as the CISG or the Vienna Sales Convention 1980) applies to this agreement (see eg Global sales law in a global pandemic: The CISG as the applicable law to the EU-AstraZeneca Advance Purchase Agreement? written by Dr Ben Köhler and EU-AstraZeneca contract – applicability of the CISG? written by Till Maier-Lohmann and cited in Dr Köhler’s blog).

But the fact that this question relates to the law applicable to the APA, and accordingly the application of the Rome I Regulation on the law applicable to contractual obligations, seems to have been overlooked so far apart from a couple of publications (see eg Sixto A. Sánchez Lorenzo, “El advance purchase agreement (APA) entre AstraZeneca y la comisión europea visto desde el Derecho privado”, La Ley: Unión Europea, No 90 March 2021, for which a useful summary in English was provided in Professor Matthias Lehmann’s post in this blog entitled Suing AstraZeneca: Who, Where, and under Which Law?).

Upon the first decision of the Belgian court on 18 June 2021 which states at paragraph 29 at p.39 that “Les conventions doivent être interpretées au regard de l’intention commune des parties, conformément à l’article 1156 de l’ancien Code Civil” (“The agreements must be interpreted with regard to the common intention of the parties, in accordance with Article 1156 of the former Civil Code”), further questions have been raised in relation to the applicable law: “Has the court held that Article 3(1) of Rome I Regulation excludes the application of the CISG?; Did the Court apply its domestic conflict rules?; Does the choice of Belgian law by the parties preclude the application of the CISG?”(see Some questions about the first decision of the Belgian court in the dispute between AstraZeneca and the European Commission – CISG-Portugal.org by César Pires).

The relationship between the Rome I Regulation and the CISG is at the heart of this discussion. Which instrument should be the starting point of the applicable law analysis for the EU-AstraZeneca APA and does this matter in practice?

Relationship between Rome I and the CISG for EU Member States Party to the CISG

The Rome I Regulation is an EU private international law instrument concerning the law applicable to contractual obligations. Under Article 1(1), it applies in the EU, in situations involving a conflict of laws, to contractual obligations in civil and commercial matters that fall into its scope. Being in the form of a regulation, Rome I has general application, is binding in its entirety and directly applicable in all EU Member States (with the exception of Denmark) pursuant to Article 288 of the Treaty on the Functioning of the EU.

On the other hand, the CISG is an international convention which provides primarily uniform substantive law rules relating to international sale of goods contracts that fall into its scope. Under Article 1(1), it applies to contracts between parties whose places of business are in different States if either (a) both of those States are Contracting States or (b) the rules of private international law lead to the law of a Contracting State (unless a state reservation exists regarding the 1(1)(b) situation as per Article 95 or parties have excluded the application of the CISG as per Article 6). The CISG has been adopted by the majority of EU Member States, including Belgium and Sweden, and is in force as part of their national law.

It has been argued on different grounds that if the forum is located in an EU Member State party to the CISG, the CISG takes precedence over Rome I or is capable of applying directly (or autonomously) without recourse to Rome I. This seems to be the prevailing view, notably in Germany, and has been recently endorsed in the UNCITRAL, HCCH and Unidroit Legal Guide to Uniform Instruments in the Area of International Commercial Contracts, with a Focus on Sales. However, it is questionable to what extent this approach is consistent with EU law:

1.  It has been argued that for courts in the CISG Contracting States, the CISG (as uniform substantive law) eliminates under its Article 1(1)(a) the need to recourse to conflict of laws analysis to determine whether it applies (see eg Peter Winship, ‘Private International Law and the U.N. Sales Convention’, (1988) 21 Cornell International Law Journal 487, p.520). According to this view, courts in the EU Member States which are also the CISG Contracting States do not first have to resort to their private international law because, where the CISG is applicable, there is no ‘situation involving a conflict of laws’ within the meaning of Article 1(1) of Rome I (see eg Thomas Kadner Graziano, ‘The CISG Before the Courts of Non-Contracting States? Take Foreign Sales Law as You Find it’ (2012) 13 Yearbook of Private International Law 165, p.166). However, from a different perspective, the fact that there is uniform substantive law to apply to a case does not mean that there is no situation involving a conflict of laws in the given case. It rather means that the conflict of laws is resolved in the given case partially or fully by the application of that uniform substantive law. The question of ‘as part of which law that uniform substantive law applies to the given case’ would still first require a conflict of laws process (for a similar alternative interpretation of Article 1(1)(a) of the CISG, see Arthur Taylor von Mehren, Explanatory Report on the Convention on the Law Applicable to Contracts for the International Sale of Goods, Proceedings of the Extraordinary Session of October 1985, para. 192). This is to be the approach to follow unless the forum’s private international law provides otherwise and gives precedence to uniform substantive law rules over conflict of laws rules (for such a provision, see eg the Turkish Private International Law and International Civil Procedure Act (numbered 5718 and dated 2007) which gives, in its Article 1(2), precedence to the provisions of international agreements to which Turkey is a party over the Act).

2. It has been argued that the CISG’s provisions on its sphere of application take precedence over the conflict of law rules in Rome I according to Article 25(1) regulating the Rome I’s relationship with existing international conventions. However, an existing international convention to which one or more EU Member States are parties at the time when Rome I is adopted can only take precedence over the rules of Rome I under Article 25 if the convention in question lays down conflict of law rules relating to contractual obligations. The CISG does not lay down conflict of law rules relating to contractual obligations and accordingly it is not listed as per Article 26 of Rome I among conventions that are referred to under Article 25(1). To assist with comparison, one example of such an international convention in the context of sale of goods which could prevail over the rules of Rome I under Article 25 of Rome I is the 1955 Hague Convention on the Law Applicable to International Sale of Goods as this convention does lay down conflict of law rules relating to contractual obligations.

3. It has been argued that uniform substantive law is more specific than private international law and therefore the former should prevail over the latter pursuant to the principle of lex specialis derogat legi generali. However, this principle should come into play where there is more than one law/provision dealing with the same matter (eg the CISG and national substantive sales laws in relation to matters of sale of goods contracts). This is not the case regarding the CISG and Rome I as these instruments deal with different matters.

Furthermore, from the perspective of EU law, it is questionable whether the argument that the CISG takes precedence over Rome I is consistent with the supremacy of EU law and the direct effect of EU regulations given that the CISG is not a convention to which the EU is a party and therefore not internalised in the EU system. EU law, in principle, cannot be overridden by an extraneous source unless that extraneous source is internalised.

In terms of the relationship between Rome I and the CISG for EU Member States party to the CISG, an alternative view here to the prevailing view suggests a two-step approach. The first step is that, if the forum is located in an EU Member State, a state law is determined as the applicable law in a given case under the rules of Rome I. The second step is that if that law includes the CISG, then the applicability of the CISG (as part of that law) to the given case is determined under the rules of the CISG. The CISG may become applicable as part of that law through its Article 1(1)(a) if the places of business of both parties are in Contracting States or through its Article 1(1)(b) even if only one or none of these places is in Contracting States (on how the CISG interacts with state law, see also Benjamin Hayward, Bruno Zeller and Camilla Baasch Andersen, ‘The CISG and the United Kingdom- Exploring Coherency and Private International Law’ (2018) 67 International and Comparative Law Quarterly 607).

One question that arises in this context is whether it matters in practice if a court starts the analysis with Rome I or the CISG. In cases where the applicable law is to be determined according to objective choice of law rules under Article 4 of Rome I, the outcome might differ depending on the approach that the court takes if the applicable law is a law of a non-Contracting State (see generally Peter Winship, cited above, p.519 and see, specifically on Rome I and the CISG, Sir Richard Plender, QC & Michael Wilderspin, The European Private International Law of Obligations, 5th edn, Sweet & Maxwell, 2019, paras 1-047 and 1-048).

For example, if the sales contact is between parties with places of business in the CISG Contracting States (eg Belgium and Sweden), and if the court in the EU starts the analysis with the CISG, the court will find that the CISG applies to the contract as per Article 1(1)(a) of the CISG. In the same example, if the court starts the analysis with Rome I and determines that the objectively applicable law is a law of a non-Contracting State, eg law of England and Wales, which would be something rare but possible via the operation of the escape clause in Article 4(3) of Rome I, the court will find that the UK’s Sale of Goods Act 1979 will apply to the contract (not the CISG). If the outcome might differ depending on a court’s approach, this would potentially also give scope for forum shopping.

The First Step: Application of Rome I to the EU-AstraZeneca APA

In the light of the above analysis, as the first step, the law applicable to the APA is to be determined under the Rome I Regulation.

The APA is not one of the types of contracts for which Rome I provides special choice of law rules between Articles 5 and 8, and therefore the applicable law of the APA will be determined according to the general choice of law rules under Article 3 (on freedom of choice) and Article 4 (on the applicable law in the absence of choice) of Rome I.

Under Article 3 of Rome I, a contract is governed by the law chosen by the parties and this choice can be express or clearly demonstrated by the terms of the contract or the circumstances of the case. The APA includes an express choice of law agreement in Section 18.4 according to which it is governed by the laws of Belgium. Provided that this choice of law agreement is valid in its form and substance under Articles 10 and 11 of Rome I and raises no issues of legal capacity (to which Rome I does not apply as per Article 1(2)(f)), Belgian law is the law applicable to the APA and governs the matters that fall into the scope of the applicable law set out under Article 12. Since renvoi is excluded under Article 20 of Rome I, this means that substantive law rules of Belgian law will be applied to the APA.

Belgium is a party to the CISG, and therefore the application of the laws of Belgium (as agreed by the parties in the choice of law agreement in Section 18.4 of the APA) includes the rules of the CISG.

The Second Step: Applicability of the CISG to the EU-AstraZeneca APA

It follows that the CISG is applicable to the extent that a given dispute, which may arise under or in connection with the APA or the legal relationships established by the APA, falls into the scope of the CISG. In such cases, the CISG itself will not be strictly speaking the applicable (or governing) law of the APA, but it will apply as part of the applicable (or governing) law of the APA which is Belgian law.

The extent of the CISG’s applicability in this context would further require a substantive law analysis as to (i) whether the APA is a type of sales contract that falls into the scope of the CISG (see eg Application of the CISG to International Government Procurement of Goods by Cesar Pereira), (ii) whether a given dispute will fall into the scope of the CISG (as the CISG does not deal with all types of disputes that a sales contract may give rise to), (iii) whether any relevant state reservations exist, and (iv) whether the APA provides otherwise (which would mean under Article 6 of the CISG that the parties have derogated from or varied the effect of CISG’s provisions).

As a concluding remark, it is also worth noting that the CISG in essence is a safety net for sales for which contractual parties have not utilised freedom of contract and party autonomy. For other sales, the CISG’s utility and also scope of application is much more limited in practice and, in some cases, even excluded by the parties as allowed under Article 6 of the CISG.

This is the fourth post of an online symposium on the recent judgment of the CJEU in Vereniging van Effectenbezitters v. BP after the posts of Matthias Lehmann, Laura van Bochove and Matthias Haentjens and Geert van Calster.

The author of this post is Enrique Vallines, who is Professor of Procedural Law at the Complutense University of Madrid and a Senior Research Fellow at the Max Planck Institute Luxembourg.


Just a few days after Vereniging van Effectenbezitters v BP (C-709/19) was made public, I had the opportunity to express my views on the decision on an EU Law Live Op-Ed. After the three stimulating EAPIL blogposts referred above, Prof. Gilles Cuniberti has kindly invited me to expand a bit on my critique to the reasoning of the judgment, probably because I seem to be a bit of an outlier here. My sincere gratitude to him and to all the board of Editors of the EAPIL Blog.

On the Judgment Itself

Effectenbezitters is about establishing jurisdiction under Article 7(2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation on the basis of the determination of the place where the harm occurred (the so-called, in German, Erfolgsort) in a case of purely financial damage, i.e. any loss of money with no connection with a tangible object (VKI v Volkswagen, C‑343/19, paras 32-35).

In previous judgments, the CJEU had used the fiction that financial damage occurs where the (bank or investment) account reflecting the damage is held. However, the Court added that the said fiction is not enough to establish jurisdiction under Article 7(2); in addition, looking at Recitals 15 and 16, the Court requires that ‘other specific circumstances’ confirm that the case is sufficiently connected to the place in question (principle of proximity) and that the forum in question was foreseeable for the defendant (principle of predictability).

In my opinion, Effectenbezitters is no exception to this jurisprudence. Firstly, in para 32, the CJEU clearly suggests that the courts in the Netherlands might have jurisdiction under Article 7(2), ‘on the basis of the place where the damage occurred’, because jurisdiction may be allocated to the courts where the bank (or investment institution) holding that account is established. This is reflected in the operative part of the judgment, where the Court acknowledges that the case concerned the ‘direct occurrence in an investment account of purely financial loss resulting from investment decisions’.

Secondly, in paragraphs 33-35 of Effectenbezitters, the Court moves on to consider the other specific circumstances, beginning with those relating to the predictability of the forum. At this point – the assessment of the predictability of the forum -, I believe that – contrary to what Prof. Lehman, Prof. van Bochove and Prof. Haentjens seem to indicate in their EAPIL blogposts – the Court does not put the direct focus on the place where BP shares were listed or admitted to trading; nor did the Court even consider the place where the shares had been acquired or sold (an approach that, by the way, would have been similar to the approach in VKI v Volkswagen, where jurisdiction under Article 7(2) was attributed to the courts where the diesel vehicles had been purchased). Instead, the direct focus of the Court when assessing the predictability of the forum was the place where BP had reporting obligations, ie, the place where BP was subject to the obligation to disclose the information whose lack or inaccuracy was at the basis of the cause of action of the plaintiff. This conclusion is also confirmed by the operative part of the judgment, where only the ‘statutory reporting obligations’ are mentioned, without any reference to the place of listing, trading, acquisition or sale.

Against this background, to my mind, the reasoning of the Court may be summarized as follows: (i) since the claim is based on the lack or the inaccuracy of specific information that BP was obliged to provide in the UK and in Germany, BP could have reasonably foreseen lawsuits related to the said information in the UK or in Germany, but not in the Netherlands nor in any other EU forum; and (ii), for this reason, despite accepting the fiction that the purely financial damage inflicted to the Dutch investors occurred in the Netherlands, finally, the Dutch courts were not predictable for the defendant and, hence, they do not qualify as a competent court under Article 7(2) and Recitals 15 and 16.

On the Precedents Used

To support this reasoning, the CJEU turns to Kolassa (C-375/13, paras 54-57, to be interpreted as indicated in Universal, C-12/15, para 37, and the Opinion of AG Szpunar in this latter case, para 45) and Löber (C‑304/17, paras 26-36).

In both cases, similarly to the case of Effectenbezitters, an investor had also claimed compensation for purely financial damages based on the inaccuracy of financial information – the information contained in a prospectus required for securities to be admitted to trading in a specific State. In these two cases, the Court argued (i) that the place where the investors held their accounts might indeed qualify as the place where the harm occurred for the purposes of establishing jurisdiction under Article 7(2); and (ii) that the forum for that place was predictable because the information whose inaccuracy was at the basis of the cause of action had been specifically distributed at that place as a result of the legal obligation to submit a prospectus. Thus, in Kolassa and Löber, the Court took the fact that reporting obligations were due in a specific Member State as an indication of the predictability of the jurisdiction of the courts of that Member State. Shortly put, the equation of the Court was: reporting obligations = predictability.

In Effectenbezitters, the Court tried to apply the same logic, but the other way around. It certainly looked at the place of reporting obligations and, since it found none in the Netherlands, it concluded that the Dutch courts were not a predictable forum. Thus, it took the fact that BP had no reporting obligations in the Netherlands as an indication that the Netherlandish courts were not a predictable forum. In short, the equation of the Court was, now, the following: no reporting obligations = no predictability.

On my Critique

My main criticism of Effectenbezitters is that this second equation (no reporting obligations = no predictability) is not at all convincing in the current EU regulatory context. In my opinion, the logic applied in Kolassa and Löber does not work the other way around within the EU. I find it acceptable to conclude that the fact that there exist reporting obligations in a Member State may be taken as an indication that this Member State is a predictable forum for any litigation relating to such obligations. Yet, I challenge the argument whereby the lack of reporting obligations in a Member State necessarily entails that that Member State is not a predictable forum. The way I see things, a person may have to report information in a specific Member State and, nevertheless, it may still predict litigation related to that information in another Member State so long as the citizens and companies of the other Member State were also legal addressees of the information in question.

This is exactly what, in my view, happened in Effectenbezitters. BP was subject to reporting obligations in the UK and Germany only, but the legal addressees of the information were all the investors in all the EU Member States. Within the regulatory context under the Transparency Directive 2004/109 and the Market Abuse Directive 2003/6 (today, replaced by the Market Abuse Regulation 596/2014), BP had to make available periodical information (eg, annual financial reports), as well as any particular piece of information that was likely to have a significant effect on the prices of its shares. Even though the information had to be published via a ‘mechanism’ which had been ‘officially appointed’ by the British and the German authorities, the truth is that this mechanism had to ensure that the information was made available in a manner that guaranteed the ‘effective dissemination to the public throughout the Community’. See, in this regard, Article 21(1) Directive 2004/109, in relation to Article 2(1)(k) of the said Directive and Articles 1(1) and 6 of the Market Abuse Directive 2003/6 (today, Articles 7 and 17 of the Market Abuse Regulation 596/2014); also, in the same vein, the current wording of Article 22 of Directive 2004/109 emphasizes that the information must be accessible ‘at Union level’.

Thus, when BP provided – or failed to provide – information in the UK and in Germany under the EU rules on transparency and market abuse, the company knew that the information due had to reach all EU investors – ‘all the public throughout the Community’, as Article 21(1) of Directive 2004/109 puts it. Consequently, BP could have perfectly foreseen that any of the legal addressees of the information could have made investment decisions from their home Member States on the basis of that information. And this, in my view, entails that BP could have also perfectly predicted that information-related litigation could have taken place in any of the EU Member States from where those investment decisions were made.

To sum up, contrary to Court’s reasoning in Effectenbezitters, I find that, within the EU, it is inaccurate to say that an issuer of securities cannot predict the forum where it does not have reporting obligations in that forum. Such an issuer is aware – or, at least, must be aware –  of the fact that EU law requires that the reported information reaches all the citizens and companies across all Member States, irrespective of where and how the information is provided. As a result, the issuer must count on the possibility that the information is used in any Member State, as well as on the possibility of damages – and subsequent lawsuits – arising out of such a use in any Member State.

Looking Ahead

That said, I should add that I understand the concerns about the need to limit jurisdiction under Article 7(2) and to avoid an EU-wide jurisdiction to hear cases relating to purely financial damage at the place where the plaintiff holds her bank account. But I believe that a flawed argument – such as the one used in Effectenbezitters – should not be the means to achieve such a goal. Instead, other avenues could be explored, preferably by the EU law-maker, with a view to an amendment of Brussels I-bis that may provide more certainty on the rule of special jurisdiction applying to matters relating to tort, delict or quasi-delict.

In a series of posts published at the Kluwer Arbitration Blog, Gary Born argues that States Should Not Ratify, and Should Instead Denounce, the Hague Choice-Of-Court Agreements Convention.

At the invitation of the Editors of the EAPIL Blog, Trevor Hartley, Professor emeritus at the London School of Economics, replies.


Gary Born starts by saying that the 2005 Hague Choice-of-Court Convention gives choice-of-court agreements the same enforceability and effect as arbitration agreements. This, he argues, is wrong because, while the parties to an arbitration agreement can choose the individual arbitrators, the parties to a choice-of-court agreement can only choose the country, or the court, from which the judges will be drawn: they cannot choose the individual judges. The reason he finds this objectionable is that the judges in many countries are corrupt or incompetent. He cites various statistics to show this. He names a number of countries which he says are especially bad: Russia, China, Venezuela, Iran, the Congo and Nicaragua. However, none of these countries is a Party to the Hague Convention; so choice-of-court agreements designating their courts would not be covered.

There can be no doubt that corrupt, biased or incompetent judges do exist, as do corrupt, biased or incompetent arbitrators. However, even though the parties to a choice-of-court agreement cannot choose the individual judges who will hear their case, they can choose the country the courts of which will hear it. They can even choose the particular court: Article 3(a) of the Convention. And since there are many countries where the judges are not corrupt, biased or incompetent—several EU countries, as well as the United Kingdom, spring to mind—the parties can, if they choose, ensure that the judges hearing their case are unbiased, competent and impartial. If the parties insist on choosing the courts of a country where judicial corruption is a problem, they have only themselves to blame.

Moreover, it cannot be said that the Convention does not deal with this problem. Article 6(c) provides that the obligation of a court of a Contracting State other than that of the chosen court to suspend or dismiss proceedings covered by an exclusive choice-of-court agreement does not apply  if giving effect to the agreement ‘would lead to a manifest injustice or would be manifestly contrary to the public policy of the State of the court seised.’ While Article 9(e) provides that recognition and enforcement of  a judgment given by a court of a Contracting State designated in an exclusive choice-of-court agreement may be refused if it would be ‘manifestly incompatible with the public policy of the requested State, including situations where the specific proceedings leading to the judgment were incompatible with fundamental principles of procedural fairness of that State.’

Born tries to argue that the grounds for refusing to recognize a judgment under the Hague Convention are insufficient compared with those applicable to arbitration awards under the New York Convention. Little would be gained by a detailed analysis of the two sets of provisions. However, it can be said that the grounds in the Hague Convention are wide ranging—Article 9 has seven paragraphs, each setting out a different ground—and they provide ample opportunities for any court willing to use them to refuse recognition. The same courts will decide on recognition of judgments under the Hague Convention as on the recognition of arbitration awards under the New York Convention. There is no reason to believe that they will be less willing to refuse recognition in the former case than in the latter. In any event, if parties think that their rights will be better protected under an arbitration agreement than under a choice-of-court agreement, there is nothing to stop them from opting for the former. To deprive them of that choice by denouncing the Hague Convention would not enhance party autonomy: it would seriously limit it.

It should finally be said that the provisions on recognition and enforcement in the Hague Convention are very similar to those of the Brussels Regulation and the common law. The Brussels Regulation, rather than the New York Convention, was in fact the model for the Hague Convention. The most important difference between the two is that the grounds for non-recognition are considerably more extensive under the Hague Convention than under the Brussels Regulation. Both the Brussels Regulation and the common law seem to have operated satisfactorily for many years now.

This is the third post of an online symposium on the recent judgment of the CJEU in Vereniging van Effectenbezitters v. BP after the posts of Matthias Lehmann and of Laura van Bochove and Matthias Haentjens.

The author of this post is Prof. Geert van Calster, who teaches at and is Head of the department of European and International Law of the University of Leuven (Belgium), and an independent legal practitioner at the Brussels Bar.


Leiden University’s Round Table on the consequences of CJEU Vereniging van Effectenbezitters v BP (VvE) provided me with an opportunity not just to talk on the consequences of the ruling for applicable law, but also to discuss those views with an excellent group of scholars. That afternoon’s discussion no doubt has had an impact on some of what I write below, however clearly this post is my own responsibility.

Contractual or non-contractual obligations?

Clearly a first element of note is that the applicable law picture looks entirely different depending on whether one is looking at a contractual (triggering application of the Rome I-Regulation) or non-contractual (meaning Rome II will apply) relationship. The general assumption is that in a case like VvE, Rome II is engaged.

This results firstly from parties claiming jurisdiction on the basis of Brussels IA’s tort gateway, Article 7(2). The suggested parallel between the Brussels Ia and Rome Regulations then indicates that where jurisdiction goes, applicable law needs to follow (below I talk more about that parallel).

Further, there is CJEU case-law making a contractual jurisdictional basis unlikely. In CJEU C-366/13 Profit Investment Sim, the Court held that a choice of court contained in a prospectus produced by the bond issuer concerning the issue of bonds may be relied on against a third party who acquired those bonds from a financial intermediary under quite narrow circumstances only. These circumstances include considerations of applicable national law. In CJEU C-375/13 Kolassa the Court held that, on the facts of the case, there were no indications that there was a contract under either the consumer title or the general Article 7(1) gateway, between the holder of a securities account and Barclays, the issuer of certificates held in that account.

On the other hand, following the CJEU’s much stretched notion of ‘contract’ in C-337/17 Feniks and follow-up case-law, I do not think that the existence of a ‘contract’ between the issuer of the financial instruments and the (very) downstream investor can be entirely ruled out.

In the remainder of this post however I shall assume the majority’s intuition that the applicable law analysis be pursued under the Rome II Regulation.

A reminder: the general rule of Article 4(1) Rome II

The standard applicable law rule to purely economic loss, is included in Article 4(1) Rome II and holds that the applicable law is the

law of the country in which the damage occurs irrespective of the country in which the event giving rise to the damage occurred and irrespective of the country or countries in which the indirect consequences of that event occur

There is no specific rule for purely economic loss as such. However, there may be circumstances in which purely economic loss may be covered by one or two of the specific categories included in Rome II. I am thinking in particular of the product liability rules (with discussions on whether financial instruments may be qualified as a ‘product’ under same), and the rules on unfair competition and infringement of competition law.

Further variations to the rule exist in Article 4 itself, and via the scope of applications, which excepts a number of non-contractual obligations hence giving space for residual, national private international law to take over.

Need for absolute parallel between Rome II and Brussels Ia?

To the degree one assumes that Article 7(2) Brussels Ia’s tort jurisdictional gateway, and Rome II’s rules on applicable law for non-contractual obligations need to be applied in synchronicity, clearly a judgment like VvE will have an important impact on the application of Article 4 Rome II’s general rule.

However the CJEU itself is ambivalent on the need for such parallel. In Kainz, the CJEU specifically rejected the need for consistency between Brussels Ia and Rome II, while in other cases the recital’s encouragement of consistency has had an impact on the court’s rulings.

Once must tread with caution therefore in extending the VvE findings to the applicable law discussion. Those with an interest in doing so will find support in the authorities to talk down the impact of VvE on applicable law.

Echoes of an exception, and a tailor-made lex causae not achieved

First the Finnish and then the UK delegation to the Rome II Committee, actually (unsuccessfully) suggested an exclusion from the scope of application for financial instruments. The UK proposal to that effect would have added to Rome II’s exclusions from the scope of application

Non-contractual obligations arising out of transactions, such as issuing, admission to trading, offering or marketing, relating to financial instruments, including transferable securities, moneymarket instruments, units in collective investment undertakings, options, futures and other derivatives instruments

In that discussion reference was also made to the fall-back lex contractus rule for certain financial instruments in Article (4)(1)h of the Rome I Regulation.

When it transpired that the proposal for this exception had the support of neither the EC nor enough Member States, the UK suggested singularity of lex causae by introducing a specific heading for financial instruments in which either the lex loci incorporationis (of the issuer) or the law of the place where the issuer has its primary listing, would be applicable to non-contractual loss.

The former suggestion echoed somewhat the difficulties in establishing the exact scope of Rome II’s corporate law exception (Article 1(2)d Rome II). CJEU Kolassa (a 1980 Rome Convention case) unfortunately failed to bring much clarity on this point.

 National case-law: Petrobas

In Petrobas Rotterdam, the Dutch court identified the locus damni in an investor suit as

the location of the market(s) where the financial instruments are listed and traded.

It emphasised predictability and it conceded a Mozaik effect, including of course application of non-EU laws (in the case at issue, viz the Brazilian and Argentinian investors). This finding might in fact chime with the CJEU in VvE where as other posts on this blog clarify, the

place of statutory duties of information

was upheld as locus damni. This synergy between the finding at the applicable law level in Petrobas, and the jurisdictional criterion in VvE, only applies of course provided all places of listing and trading are subject to such duties.

If one were to apply the ‘law of the place of statutory duties of information’, however, rather like at the jurisdictional level, this would raise the mental twister that this criterion is more akin to locus delicti commissi than locus damni, as Matthias Lehmann has pointed out.

Moreover, like in VvE, such criterion does not help us for unlisted financial instruments.

Finally, Article 4(3)’s ‘manifestly more closely connected’ variation to the lex loci damni rule clearly will give a judge some (but not much: the Article needs to be applied restrictively) room for manoeuvre to identify a different law with more, and intense, affinity to the case.

Help on the horizon? Pending case before the CJEU

As was helpfully pointed out by Tomas Arons at the aforementioned Round Table, in the pending case C-498/20 ZK , in his capacity as liquidator in the bankruptcy of BMA Nederland BV v BMA Braunschweigische Maschinenbauanstalt AG, locus damni considerations in Rome II in a case of purely economic loss (alleged breach of duty of care by a mother holding for allegedly failing to provide its daughter company with adequate financing) are currently sub judice before the CJEU. The judgment in that case will undoubtedly feature VvE and will hopefully clarify the application of Rome II to cases of purely economic loss.

This is the second post of an online symposium on the recent judgment of the CJEU in Vereniging van Effectenbezitters v. BP after the post of Matthias Lehmann

The authors of this post are Dr. Laura van Bochove (Assistant Professor at Leiden University) and Prof Dr Matthias Haentjens (Professor of Private Law at Leiden University)


On 3 June 2021, Leiden University hosted a seminar with international experts from the judiciary, law firms, civil service and academia to discuss the recent CJEU judgement in Vereniging van Effectenbezitters v. BP. The discussion clearly showed that the judgment may be interpreted differently. Some experts, including Matthias Lehmann (see here), argued that in VEB/BP, the CJEU refused to localise the Erfolgsort at the place of an investment account and, instead, localised damage at the place of listing. We see some merit in attributing jurisdiction to the court of the place of listing, but we do not think the CJEU has chosen such a radical departure from existing case law. Rather, we believe the CJEU continues to (try to) localize the Erfolgsort, also in cases of financial loss, and may continue to consider as connecting factors in that context the investment account, possibly next to the place of listing.

We believe VEB/BP represents another change in direction. We see that the CJEU introduced ‘foreseeability’ as a relevant consideration when having to determine the place where losses have materialized. This clearly derogates from previous CJEU case law and raises new questions.

Connecting factor #1: bank account

One of the participants to our seminar, Dorine Verheij, once said that when a Dutchman rides his bike on the Champs-Elysees and gets hit by a 2CV, it is clear in which jurisdiction the damage was caused and also where it materialized. This is not so for financial loss. Financial loss, by its very nature, is immaterial and therefore as a matter of logic, not localizable. However, the CJEU has continued to (try to) localize the Erfolgsort in several financial loss cases, including Kronhofer, Kolassa, Universal Music and Löber. This case law has been fiercely criticized in legal literature. In his Opinion in VEB/BP, Advocate General Campos Sánchez-Bordona sided with this critique and suggested to abandon the Erfolgsort in financial loss cases. The CJEU did not follow suit, and we believe this is a strong indication the Court continues to (try to) localize the Erfolgsort, also in cases of financial loss. Moreover, the Court did not explicitly depart from the case law just referred to (ie Kronhofer, Kolassa, Universal Music and Löber). In these cases, the court considered as relevant connecting factors the applicant’s “bank account” (Kolassa, Löber, Universal) as well as “other specific circumstances of that situation” (Löber). In VEB/BP, the Court specifically considered the “investment account” as a possible connecting factor, whilst that it held that this factor was insufficient to attribute jurisdiction in this case.

As one of us has written elsewhere, we believe that when securities have lost value or have become worthless, possibly as a result of misleading information from the issuer of the securities, any losses suffered by the owner of the securities concern those securities specifically. Thus, it is the relevant securities account in which those securities are credited, that is the ‘place’ where the financial loss materializes (wherever that may be), rather than in any bank account from out of which these securities were initially purchased. We therefore believe it is welcome that the Court has now clarified that it is the ‘investment account’ (rather than the bank account) that may be of relevance as a connecting factor when having to determine where to localize financial loss. However, and as we have also argued elsewhere, the localization of an investment account (which we thus understand to be the relevant securities account) is dogmatically and logically impossible, since securities accounts have no physical location. This fact makes a securities account or ‘investment account’ unsuitable for any attribution of jurisdiction.

In the VEB/BP case, however, the Court concluded for other reasons that the ‘investment account’ was not adequate as a connecting factor to attribute jurisdiction to the court of the Member State where the account is held, as it held that as a connecting factor, an investment account could not ‘ensure’ the ‘objective of foreseeability’. Before we turn to discuss foreseeability as a connecting factor, first we will pay attention to the ‘place of listing’, which the Court introduced in VEB/BP as a possible connecting factor.

Connecting factor #2: the place of listing

Which factors should be considered relevant or decisive so as to attribute jurisdiction in a specific case, remains elusive. In Kronhofer, the Court held that the place of the applicant’s domicile may not be sufficient if the relevant investment account is located in another jurisdiction. This judgment did not say, however, which connecting factor would suffice to attribute jurisdiction. When the place of the applicant’s domicile coincides with the relevant investment account, this may suffice, the Court held in Kolassa and Löber. But in Universal Music, the Court dismissed this combination of connecting factors on the ground that the other case law concerned a “specific context” (yet without explaining what the element of distinction was), so that “the ‘place where the harmful event occurred’ may not be construed as being, failing any other connecting factors, the place in a Member State where the damage occurred, when that damage consists exclusively of financial damage which materialises directly in the bank account of the applicant and is the direct result of an unlawful act committed in another Member State.” Arguably, in VEB/BP, the Court found such ‘other connecting factor’ in the place of listing.

More specifically, in paragraph 35 the CJEU held:

It follows that, in the case of a listed company such as that at issue in the main proceedings, only the jurisdiction of the courts of the Member States in which that company has complied, for the purposes of its listing on the stock exchange, with the statutory reporting obligations can be established on the basis of the place where the damage occurred. It is only in those Member States that such a company can reasonably foresee the existence of an investment market and incur liability.”

In isolation, this paragraph appears to provide for a clear jurisdiction rule, attributing jurisdiction on the basis of the place where the damage occurred to the courts of the Member State in which the listed company has complied, for the purposes of its listing on the stock exchange, with the statutory reporting obligations (the place of listing). However, this paragraph [35] must not be considered in isolation, as indicated by the introductory words “[i]t follows that”. These words refer to the previous paragraph [34], where the CJEU held that in the present case, the applicant’s domicile and the place of its investment account would not ensure the objective of foreseeability. In other words, the CJEU held in paragraph [34] that the combination of connecting factors that were considered sufficient for attribution of jurisdiction in Löber and Kolassa, proved inadequate in the present case, as it would not guarantee that the defendant would be able to reasonably foresee where it could be sued.

We think the Court has been most persuasive where it held that in financial loss cases such as VEB/BP, the location of the applicant’s investment account is arbitrary and not reasonably foreseeable for the defendant, ie the issuer of the relevant securities. However, this does not mean that the place of listing can logically be considered as a ‘place where the damage occurred’, as the Court seems to suggest. Neither should this be interpreted to mean that the place of listing suffices, in and by itself, as a connecting factor that can attribute jurisdiction, because the Court gives no indication that it departed from earlier case law.

First, the place of listing is a place where securities are traded. This place has no, if only indirect relevance for the localization of the place “where the alleged damage actually manifests itself” (Löber, cited in VEB/BP, para. 31), ie the place “where the applicant has suffered financial consequences” (VEB/BP, para. 29). An investor commonly orders his investment firm (ie bank or broker), to acquire or sell certain financial instruments. The investment firm may proceed to acquire those instruments, for that investor, on a regulated exchange, but these can also be acquired on other official trading venues such as multilateral trading facilities, organized trading facilities, or even internally settled on the books of the investment firm. This practical reality shows, we think, that the investor does not “suffer financial consequences” on the place of listing (possibly with the exception of the rare instance where the investor itself is an admitted member of an exchange). We therefore think the place of listing may be a relevant connecting factor, but logically in most cases it cannot qualify as an Erfolgsort.

Second, the Court introduced the place of listing only in the context of foreseeability of damage. It did not explicitly (or implicitly) depart from its earlier case law, where other connecting factors were considered adequate as discussed above. Therefore, we consider it likely (but the Court does not make this explicit), that the Court may continue to consider the investment account as the place where financial damage ‘actually manifests itself’, but that this connecting factor was not deemed sufficient in the present case for reasons of foreseeability only. Rather, the Court seemed to imply that the place of the investment account may be considered foreseeable for the defendant only if that defendant’s securities are listed in the same Member State. If anything, this interpretation would accord (better) with Kolassa and Löber.

Relevant circumstance: foreseeability

Whilst we welcome the Court’s dismissal of the investment account as a sole connecting factor in the present case, the CJEU’s introduction of and reliance on ‘reasonable foreseeability’ as a relevant circumstance is not unproblematic, as the CJEU’s interpretation of ‘reasonable foreseeability’ in VEB/BP seems to deviate from its previous case law. In that earlier case law, the threshold for foreseeability is often low, as illustrated in the ‘Dieselgate’ case VKI/Volkswagen. In that case, the CJEU attributed jurisdiction to the courts of the place where the applicants bought their cars from a third party. This third party virtually never was the same as the defendant that equipped the cars with manipulative software. Here, the CJEU held that that the manufacturer ‘by knowingly contravening the statutory requirements imposed on it’ may reasonably expect to be sued in the courts of the place where the car was purchased by the final purchaser, even though this could potentially lead to the jurisdiction of the courts of all EU member states, since the purchases of second-hand or imported cars were not excluded. Similarly, in eDate Advertising, the CJEU readily assumed the foreseeability of the place of damage in case of online infringement of personality rights, which could be anywhere where the content on the website was accessible.

Thus, in VEB/BP the CJEU seemed to have interpreted ‘reasonable foreseeability’ more restrictively and as a ground to deny jurisdiction, whilst in VKI/Volkswagen and eDate Advertising the Court used reasonable foreseeability more liberally and as a ground to attribute jurisdiction. Put differently, on the basis of VKI/Volkswagen and eDate Advertising, one could have expected the CJEU to attribute jurisdiction in VEB/BP to the courts of the Netherlands, as BP directs its activities and communications to investors worldwide. But we would think that the Court’s relatively strict interpretation of ‘foreseeability’ in VEB/BP accords better with the objectives of Brussels Ibis, ie ensuring legal certainty by preventing a multiplicity of courts having jurisdiction. Whether the CJEU will use a similar, strict interpretation of reasonable foreseeability in future cases remains to be seen.

VEB/BP and future case law

The VEB/BP case was eagerly awaited, especially by Dutch investors, multinationals and their lawyers. Should the CJEU have attributed jurisdiction to the Netherlands, this would have allowed other collective actions for investment losses to be opened in the Netherlands, making the Dutch courts an attractive go-to jurisdiction for the recovery of investment losses. This now seems to have been limited to cases where the financial losses were ‘reasonably foreseeable’ to have materialised in the Netherlands. Consequently, the CJEU’s judgment in VEB/BP will also have implications for other pending cases, including VEB’s pending collective action in the Amsterdam court against Volkswagen for misleading information in relation to ‘Dieselgate’.

We believe VEB/BP is to be applauded in view of the objectives of the Brussel Ibis Regulation, as the Court has dismissed the investment account which has always been highly unreliable a connecting factor. However, the Court’s reasoning gives rise to several new questions which does not seem helpful for applicants or defendants, including: has the investment account been permanently dismissed as a connecting factor? (we think not); is the place of listing to be considered as the sole connecting factor in cases concerning listed securities? (we think not); is reasonable foreseeability now to be interpreted strictly? (we are doubtful). It is to be hoped that the CJEU answers these questions in future cases, which will be as eagerly awaited as VEB/BP.

I am not especially keen on celebrating anniversaries. However, as things stand now in the European Union I thought it worth a short post on the seminal decision of the Court of Justice in case 22/70, AETR (EU:C:1971:32), of 31 March 1971. My attention has been drawn to its fiftieth anniversary.

Let’s celebrate what it meant legally (no political stance here), in terms of strengthening the competences of the (nowadays) Union and, as a consequence, for the uniformity of the legal systems of the Member States.

Background

The case is named after the European Agreement concerning the work of crews of vehicles engaged in international road transport (AETR), done at Geneva on 19 January 1962. The agreement had been signed by five of the six Member States of the EEC and other European States, but could not enter into force, absent the necessary ratifications. Negotiations for the revision of the agreement were resumed in 1967. Similar work undertaken at Community level with regard to standardizing driving and rest periods of drivers of road transport vehicles resulted in Regulation No 543/69 of the Council of 25 March 1969 on the harmonization of certain social legislation relating to road transport. In the course of its meeting on 20 March 1970 the Council, in view of the meeting of the sub-committee on Road Transport of the Economic Commission for Europe of  April 1970 at Geneva, discussed the attitude to be taken by the six Member States of the EEC in the negotiations for the conclusion of a new AETR.

The Member States conducted and concluded the negotiations in accordance with the proceedings of 20 March 1970. The AETR was made available by the secretariat of the Economic Commission for Europe from 1 July 1970 for signature by the Member States. On 19 May 1970 the Commission of the European Communities lodged an application for the annulment of the proceedings of the Council of 20 March 1970 regarding the negotiation and conclusion of the AETR by the Member States of the EEC.

In essence, the Commission disputed the validity of said proceedings on the ground that they involved infringements of the Treaty, more particularly of Articles 75, 228 and 235 concerning the distribution of powers between the Council and the Commission, and consequently the rights which it was the Commission’s duty to exercise in the negotiations on the AETR.

Ruling

The Court ruled actually against the application. This notwithstanding, it also made substantial assertions on the extent of the external competence of the Community:

The Community enjoys the capacity to establish contractual links with third countries over the whole field of objectives defined by the Treaty. This authority arises not only from an express conferment by the Treaty, but may equally flow from other provisions of the Treaty and from measures adopted, within the framework of those provisions, by the Community institutions. In particular, each time the Community, with a view to implementing a common policy envisaged by the Treaty, adopts provisions laying down common rules, whatever form they may take, the Member States no longer have the right, acting individually or even collectively, to undertake obligations with third countries which affect those rules or alter their scope. With regard to the implementation of the provisions of the Treaty, the system of internal Community measures may not be separated from that of external relations.

Consequences in the Domain of PIL

The consequences of the AERT decision on PIL conventions have been profusely analyzed by scholars (see, for instance, The External Dimension of EU Private International Law after Opinion 1/13, edited by P. Franzina). Two Opinions have been rendered directly focusing on the field. In the first one, Opinion 1/03 (EU:C:2006:81), delivered on February 7, 2006, the Court was requested by the Council to answer whether the conclusion of the new Lugano Convention on jurisdiction and the recognition and enforcement of judgments in civil and commercial matters falls entirely within the sphere of exclusive competence of the Community, or within the sphere of shared competence of the Community and the Member States. The second Opinion is Opinion 1/13 (EU:C:2014:2303), of 14 October 2014; the European Commission asked the Court whether the exclusive competence of the European Union encompasses the acceptance of the accession of a non-Union country to the Convention on the civil aspects of international child abduction concluded in the Hague on 25 October 1980.

In both cases the Court’s ruling supports the exclusive competence of the Union. This should be enough to proceed without a further Opinion in regard to the HCCH 2019 Judgments Convention, or, for that matter, to the accession of the UK to the 2007 Lugano Convention. A trickier question may be, though, whether the Member States are free to update bilateral conventions preexisting the Brussels regime, just as Norway has done (see, implicitly in favor of negative answer, Alex Layton here. I concur).

The post below was written by Alex Layton, of Twenty Essex, London. It is the third and final contribution to an on-line symposium devoted to the fate of the 1968 Brussels Convention, launched after a post by Matthias Lehmann (Brexit and the Brussels Convention: It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue?), which attracted comments by Eduardo Álvarez-Armas, Apostolos Anthimos, Gilles Cuniberti, Burkhard Hess, Costanza Honorati, Alex Layton, François Mailhé and Fabrizio Marongiu Buonaiuti. The previous contributions to the symposium, by Andrew Dickinson and Serena Forlati, can be found here and here.


Since the start of this year, the United Kingdom has been outside the Brussels-Lugano regime and it remains very doubtful that it will be welcomed back into the Lugano Convention 2007 in the near future. In this situation, as previous posts on this blog show, some ideas persist about whether the old Brussels Convention (1968, as amended) and the earlier Lugano Convention (1988) may have taken on a new relevance following the United Kingdom’s withdrawal from the European Union. I shall aim to show that such ideas are misplaced.

The latest development to prompt this discussion is the decision of the District Court of Zurich of 24 February 2021 (here, in German) to deny recognition of an English judgment dated September 2020 and to dismiss the application for a declaration of its recognition dated 18 February 2021. The decision is discussed by Rodrigo Rodriguez in a post on this blog dated 10 March. He says that the Zurich court refused to recognise the English judgment pursuant to the Lugano Convention. And if that is indeed what it decided, then I would agree with him (diffidently, as I am not a Swiss lawyer) that the point was wrongly decided by the Zurich court. But I am not sure that that is what it decided and even if it were I reach that conclusion by a somewhat different route.

I shall first explain my reasons for taking that view, and then turn to the question – also much discussed on this blog and elsewhere – on whether the Lugano Convention of 1988 might have provided an alternative basis for thinking the decision was wrongly decided and the related question of whether the old Brussels Convention of 1968 might also be revived.

Zurich Decision

The Lugano Convention 2007 formed part of the law of the European Union which, by reason of Article 127 of the Withdrawal Agreement, continued to apply “to and in” the United Kingdom during the transition period which ended on 31 December 2020. The critical point is that until that date, the UK was a State bound by the Convention. Article 33(1) of the Lugano Convention provides:

A judgment given in a State bound by this Convention shall be recognised in the other States bound by this Convention without any special procedure being required.

By that Article Switzerland undertook to recognise the English judgment from the time that it took effect in its own state of origin. Recognition of the English involves the extension of its authority into the Swiss legal order. It gained that authority in England – and hence also in Switzerland – in September and (so far as I am aware) nothing occurred in Swiss law to revoke the authority which it gained at that time.

The question of the enforcement of the English judgment is of course different. Here, the Lugano Convention, (like its counterpart in Regulation 44/2001 [Brussels I] but unlike Regulation 1215/2012 [Brussels I bis]), still provided for enforcement to take place following the issue of an exequatur. I can well see that by February 2021, the United Kingdom was no longer a “State bound by this Convention” within the meaning of Article 38(1) of the Lugano Convention which therefore would not (at least readily) provide a legal basis for an order for its enforcement. It would be a matter for Swiss procedural law to provide a mechanism for the inchoate recognition of the English judgment to be weaponised for the purposes of enforcement.

In the event, I think this is what the Swiss court actually decided. The judgment notes that the application was for a Vollstreckbarerklärung – a declaration of enforceability – which is what Article 38 relates to, rather than a declaration of recognition (Annerkennung). Indeed Article 38(1) is expressly referred to in the judgment.

In the converse situation, if an English court were now called upon to enforce a Swiss judgment given before 31 December 2020, it could clearly not do so pursuant to any legal powers in the Convention. English law is a dualist system and the domestic legislation giving effect to EU law – and hence to the Lugano Convention – was repealed with effect from 31 December 2020. Unlike the provisions of Brussels I bis, which continue to have effect in respect of judgments given in other EU states before that date, by reason of Article 67(2) of the Withdrawal Agreement, no such provision was made in respect of the Lugano Convention. This is not surprising, as it was not within the competence of either the EU or the UK to provide for the continued application of the Lugano Convention in relation to non-EU Contracting States. The statement by the Swiss Federal Office of Justice suggesting that the Lugano Convention would continue to apply cites the principle that jurisdiction is founded as a matter of principle upon the commencement of proceedings. But, with great respect,  that seems to me to lose sight of the distinction between adjudicatory jurisdiction to which that principle applies, and enforcement jurisdiction which probably requires a separate analysis.  The statement also cites doctrine pointing to Article 67.2 of the Withdrawal Agreement by way of analogy, but rightly does not concur with that view. Such an analogy would anyway be unconvincing unless Switzerland has ceded to the EU treaty-making powers in the field of civil justice (which I am not aware that it has).

How would an English court react in the converse situation? Although I am not aware of any case in which it has been tried, it is at least arguable that English law would recognise a Swiss decision made before 31 December 2020 and would find an alternative procedural means (such as an action for a declaration of recognition, or an action at common law on the Swiss judgment relying on its prior inchoate recognition under Article 33) that would enable this to occur. English law provides that a repeal does not affect any right acquired under the repealed enactment (Interpretation Act 1978, s. 16((1)(c)) and the extended authority of the Swiss judgment pursuant to Article 33 would probably confer such a right on the judgment creditor.

Interestingly enough, the non-application of the Lugano Convention after 31 December 2020 for a judgment given before that date was recognised as a potential issue in UK – Norwegian relations. By an Agreement signed in Oslo on 13 October 2020, the old bilateral convention on recognition and enforcement of judgments dating from 1961 was updated in certain respects, and provided, by Article 2(2), that:

The Parties shall continue to apply the rules of the Lugano Convention 2007 concerning recognition and enforcement of judgments, to the same extent that those rules applied immediately before the Lugano Convention 2007 ceased to apply to the United Kingdom and subject to the same limitations set out therein, to judgments given in proceedings that were instituted in a court of one of the Parties before the Lugano Convention 2007 ceased to apply between the Parties.

There was no equivalent bilateral convention between the United Kingdom and Switzerland, but there would be nothing to stop the UK and Switzerland – neither of which is now bound by the exclusive external competence of the European Union – from concluding a bilateral agreement to the same effect. Does the absence of an equivalent agreement with Switzerland perhaps support the idea that the Lugano Convention does not have an after-life in Anglo-Swiss relations?

Lugano 1988 (and Brussels 1968)

So, if Lugano 2007 does not live on, does the old Lugano Convention of 1988 maybe have an after-life? And if this involved an EU state, would the 1968 Brussels Convention maybe also have an after-life? In summary, a purposive interpretation of Brussels I and Lugano 2007 leave little or no room for doubt that the older instruments were intended to be consigned to the history books. The arguments have been well canvassed in earlier posts, notably by Andrew Dickinson, and I will not go over them again here.

But what of a literal textual interpretation?  True, the Lugano Convention of 1988 continues to govern relations with those non-European territories of France and the Netherlands to which the 2007 Convention has not been applied by their European ‘mother’ states: Articles 69(7) and 73(2). But this seems to me to be nowhere to the point. Also true, the 1988 Convention is not among those superseded by Lugano 2007 as defined by Article 65 and Annex VII. But Article 69(6) of the 2007 Convention is clear enough in providing that it “shall replace” (French: remplace; German: ersetzt) the 1988 Convention. That was a stipulation which was binding on the United Kingdom at the time, and which continues to bind Switzerland. It conveys a displacement of the old convention and the emplacement of the new convention. It does not leave linguistic room for the revival of the displaced.

So, what of the Brussels Convention of 1968?  Admittedly, when it was overtaken by the Brussels I regulation, the latter provided by Article 68 that it “shall …. supercede” the Brussels Convention, and that “supercede” has a less definitive tone that “replace”. But any such linguistic distinction disappears when confronted by other language versions. French uses the word “remplace” as in Lugano 2007.  The German text states “tritt … an die Stelle” (literally, “takes the place of”).

But perhaps the best literal argument for the afterlife of the Brussels Convention is that Article 70 of Brussels I (and also of Brussels I bis) provides that conventions referred to in Article 69 “shall continue to have effect” in relation to matters to which the Regulation does not apply. Read in isolation, that might suggest a revival of the Brussels Convention in relation to those Member States which were parties to it in its last amended form (that is, before the 2004 expansion of the EU). But the argument is harder to sustain when it is read together with Articles 68 and 69. Article 68, as we have just seen, provides for the Brussels Convention to be superceded, while Article 69 in turn refers to conventions which cover the same matters as  Brussels I, but then goes on to list “in particular” conventions not including the Brussels Convention. Although linguistically Article 69 can be read as including the Brussels Convention, read in context it is plain that it is not contemplated by Article 70.

Finally, the last word as far as English law is concerned lies with the UK legislator, which has repealed the provisions which gave effect to both Lugano Conventions and the Brussels Convention. In a dualist system, that is the end of the matter. If other states choose to regard  those instruments as still being in effect, that is a matter for them; but if their domestic legal systems require reciprocity as a condition of recognising foreign judgments, they will not find it in English law except in the limited class of cases in which English law recognises foreign judgments. Both under bilateral conventions, of which there are half a dozen with other Member States (France, Belgium, Netherlands, German, Italy and Austria) and under English common law, recognition is accorded only to final judgments for fixed sums of money given by a court of a country within whose territory the defendant was present when the proceedings began or to the jurisdiction of which the defendant agreed or submitted.

In conclusion, it is clear to me that both theoretically and as a matter of practical application of the law, and subject only to transitional exceptions for the Brussels I bis regulation and minor exceptions for non-European territories of Member States for both the Brussels and the Lugano instruments, the entire Brussels-Lugano regime no longer applies as between the United Kingdom and either other Member States or other Lugano states. Apart from Norway.

So, now, the question is whether the UK will be re-admitted to the 2007 Lugano Convention. The UK made its application in April 2020 and Switzerland, Norway and Iceland have all given their approval. But the EU (including Denmark in its own right) has yet to make its position clear. By Article 72(3) of Lugano 2007, it shall endeavour to give its consent at the latest within one year after the invitation by the Depositary. It only has a few weeks left, and its consent looks increasingly unlikely.

The author of this post is Olivera Boskovic, who is Professor of Private Law at the Université de Paris.


Background

On 12 February 2021, the Supreme Court of the United Kingdom delivered its judgement in Okpabi and others v. Royal Dutch shell and another. The action was brought by two Nigerian communities against Royal Dutch Shell, the UK-domiciled parent company of a multi-national group of companies and its Nigerian subsidiary. The appellants claimed that numerous oil spills in the vicinity of their communities had caused environmental harm leading to damage to health and property.

The first question was a jurisdictional one. Could the UK courts hear the case? This depended, among other questions, on “whether the claimants had an arguable case that a UK domiciled parent company owed them a common law duty of care so as to properly found jurisdiction against a foreign subsidiary company as a necessary and proper party to the proceedings”.

As underlined by Eva-Maria Kieninger, contrary to the decision in Vedanta, the Supreme Court did not clearly distinguish in Okpabi, as it should have, jurisdiction over the parent company and jurisdiction over the subsidiary. Having said that, at first instance and on appeal, it was held that “there was no arguable case that RDS owed the appellants a common law duty of care to protect them against foreseeable harm caused by the operations of SPDC”. On the contrary, the Supreme Court answered this question affirmatively and allowed the appeal.

A very important part of the jurisdictional question is thus solved in favour of the appellants. However, the final result is uncertain since the High court after remitting may still have to address some jurisdictional issues, at least concerning the subsidiary, such as forum non conveniens and/or access to justice in Nigeria which were not addressed in these proceedings.

The decision is in line with the landmark case Vedanta Resources PLC and another (Appellants) v Lungowe and others (Respondents), decided in 2019.

Key Findings

Concerning the duty of care, at the jurisdictional stage, the key points to remember are the following :

  • When determining the arguability of the claim at the interlocutory stage, the court should focus on the particulars of the claim, rather than the weight of the evidential case. Factual assertions on which the claim is based should be accepted by the court unless, exceptionally, they are demonstrably untrue and unsupportable and this will be the case only in very exceptional cases. Mini-trials should be avoided. On the documentary evidence it is particularly important to note that the preferred test is “are there reasonable grounds for believing that disclosure may materially add to or alter the evidence relevant to whether the claim has a real prospect of success » (§128)? (For the purpose of comparison, on the difficulties of access to documents which could establish the exact way of functioning of the group of companies in the French context see an interesting example Paris Court of Appeal, 17 September 2020, no. 19/20669)
  • The existence of duty of care depends on the circumstances. There is no limiting principle such as the one the Court of Appeal relied on when deciding that the issuance of group wide policies can never give rise to a duty of care. Secondly the Court of Appeal focused inappropriately on the issue of control which in fact should only be the starting point. A duty of care may arise regardless of the issue of control as in the situation where the parent holds itself out as exercising that degree of supervision and control over its subsidiaries even if it does not in fact do so.
  • As already stated in Vedanta, “the liability of parent companies in relation to the activities of their subsidiaries is, not of itself a distinct category of liability in common law negligence”. The general principles which determine such liability are “not novel” and hence do not require “an added level of rigorous analysis”
Jurisdiction: A Comparative Perspective

After Vedanta and Okpabi one can now say that English courts seem more prepared to hear cases brought at the same time against UK based companies and their over-seas subsidiaries. This is a very important step. Under the Brussels regime, no longer applicable in the UK, jurisdiction for an action brought against a UK domiciled company was easy to establish, but it was associated with the extreme difficulty of establishing liability (However, it is worth noting that the future is unclear; will the UK join the Lugano Convention or will it go back to common law rules on jurisdiction ?).

On the other hand, jurisdiction for an action brought against over-seas subsidiaries was very uncertain. Indeed, jurisdiction against foreign companies for damage sustained in a foreign country by foreign claimants was considered as problematic not only in the UK but in many countries.

In France, before the 2017 Duty of vigilance Act was adopted the main rules for jurisdiction based on the domicile of the defendants, the place of the harmful event or the nationality of the claimant did not allow French courts to assert their jurisdiction in such cases. Two possible grounds for jurisdiction, co-defendants and the risk of denial of justice, did exist, but both were very uncertain.

In 2017 the French Parliament adopted the Duty of Vigilance Act requiring certain large companies to identify risks that their business creates for human rights and the environment and prevent violations. Under certain conditions these companies can be liable for damage caused by their subsidiaries or companies in their supply chain. This means that, since 2017, mother companies can be considered as proper defendants. Hence, within the limited scope of the Duty of vigilance Act the co-defendants rule should be able to found the jurisdiction of the French courts over foreign subsidiaries. Outside of its scope, the situation remains uncertain.

At EU level, a recent proposal was made to introduce a forum necessitatis in the Brussels I recast which would, under certain conditions, give jurisdiction to Member States’ courts  to decide on business-related civil claims on human rights violations brought against undertakings located in third-countries, but within the supply chain of an EU undertaking. It was also proposed to amend the Rome II Regulation (see the posts of Geert Van Calster, Giesela Rühl, Jan von Hein, Chris Thomale, Eduardo Álvarez-Armas). Both of these proposals were rejected last week.

Choice of Law

Accepting jurisdiction is only the beginning.  The next step, which will be more difficult, is establishing liability. The liability of the subsidiary will, no doubt, be governed by the law of the place of the damage, which is also the law of the place of the causal event and the law of the place of the domicile of the subsidiary.

However, concerning the liability of the mother company one can hesitate. In Okpabi, the court considered that liability was governed by Nigerian law, which was identical to English law.

For environmental torts, Article 7 of the Rome II Regulation gives the claimant a choice between the law of the place of the damage and the law of the place of the causal event. Although this rule seems favourable to the claimants, the definition of the terms “causal event” gives rise to many questions. Is the causal event necessarily the material act that triggered the environmental damage or could one consider that decisions and environmental policy can constitute the causal event?

For other types of damage, the general rule in Article 4, and therefore the law of the place of the damage, applies. This means that in situations where one cannot consider that the local law is identical to the law of the domicile of the mother company, the choice of law question might be problematic.

In the light of these considerations, it appears that the discussion about the modification of the Rome II regulation proposed by the Committee on legal affairs of the European Parliament and rejected last week was a very important one (Although, the suggested rule was far from perfect, the idea of introducing such a rule was, to say the least, worth considering. On this modification see among others O. Boskovic, ‘La loi applicable aux «actions pour violations des droits de l’homme en matière commerciale»’, Recueil Dalloz 2021, p. 252).

Even though courts are starting to address these questions with existing tools (It is worth noting that the first appeals decision resulting in a victory on the merits for the victims in a foreign direct liability case was rendered on 29 January 2021 by the Hague Court of Appeal in the case of Four Nigerian Farmers and Milieudefensie v. Shell), a well drafted European choice of law rule would be very welcome. The same could be said of a European approach of mass tort litigation, the risk of which is raised by this decision. But this is yet another story.

The post below was written by Serena Forlati, Professor of International Law at the University of Ferrara. It follows a post by Andrew Dickinson which opened an on-line symposium devoted to the fate of the 1968 Brussels Convention. One more contribution will be published on this blog in the coming days.

The symposium follows a lively exchange prompted by a post by Matthias Lehmann (Brexit and the Brussels Convention: It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue?), which attracted comments by Eduardo Álvarez-Armas, Apostolos Anthimos, Gilles Cuniberti, Burkhard Hess, Costanza Honorati, Alex Layton, François Mailhé and Fabrizio Marongiu Buonaiuti.

Readers are encouraged to share their views by commenting the contributions. Those wishing to submit a full contribution to the on-line symposium are invited to get in touch with Pietro Franzina at pietro.franzina@unicatt.it.


Matthias Lehmann’s post on the possibility to ‘revive’ the Brussels Convention in the relationship between the United Kingdom and EU Member States, and the discussion it triggered, raise a number of interesting issues of both private and public international law.

I intend to offer a few reflections from the latter perspective, and more specifically from the standpoint of the international law of treaties. While termination of the Brussels Convention is regulated by customary international law (see Article 4 of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties of 1969), I will refer to the rules enshrined in the Vienna Convention since the grounds of termination it sets forth largely codify custom (see notably the ICJ Judgment in Gabčíkovo/Nagymaros, paras 46, 99-100, and here also for further references).

Whether the Brexit could revive the Brussels Convention in the relations between the United Kingdom and the EU Member States was already discussed in this blog (see here and here). I tend to rule out such possibility, for the reasons set out by Andrew Dickinson and Burkhard Hess. The picture would however be clearer if one could argue that, before Brexit, the Brussels Convention was no longer applicable as regards Aruba and relevant French overseas territories – as the revival of a treaty that was already completely terminated (cf Article 59 VCLT) would be difficult to conceive. An aspect worth raising in this regard (and I thank Pietro Franzina for pointing it out to me) concerns the impact of the Lugano Convention 2007 on the applicability of the Brussels Convention to such territories. Notably Article 69(7) of the 2007 Lugano Convention stipulates:

Insofar as the relations between the Member States of the European Community and the non-European territories referred to in Article 70(1)(b) are concerned, this Convention shall replace the Convention on Jurisdiction and the Enforcement of Judgments in Civil and Commercial Matters, signed at Brussels on 27 September 1968 … as of the date of the entry into force of this Convention with respect to these territories in accordance with Article 73(2).

In discussing this text, the Pocar Explanatory Report (para. 186) characterized the continuing applicability of the Brussels Convention to non-European territories as a ‘problem’ which the 2007 Convention ‘supplied an opportunity to resolve’, thus indicating that a complete termination of the Brussels Convention would be advisable. Still, Article 69(7) did not automatically achieve this result: the Lugano Convention could actually replace of the older instrument only upon completion of the simplified accession procedure under Article 70(1)(b) on behalf of those non-European territories ‘that are part of the territory of [a] Member State or for whose external relations [a] Member State is responsible’. This does not seem to be the case.

More specifically, the French Parliament has authorized the accession to the Lugano Convention on behalf of overseas territories to which the Brussels Convention applies through law No. 2019-983 of 26 September 2019 (see here, and here for the explanatory report); however, apparently the French Government did not follow suit, as no notification of accession is mentioned to date in the repository of the Swiss Government, as depositary of the Lugano Convention; nor is there any record of similar steps being taken by the Netherlands on behalf of Aruba (see here). Article 69(7) of the Lugano Convention and the implementing practice would thus seem to offer no conclusive indication ruling out a revival of the Brussels Convention.

Assuming, for the sake of argument, that the Brussels Convention still regulates the relationship between the UK and the EU, and should the EU challenge the United Kingdom’s claim that it does not apply in its regard, which options would the United Kingdom have under the international law of treaties to terminate a treaty relationship that it deems no longer to meet its interests? None of the grounds of termination discussed in the previous posts would seem to be fully adequate for the purpose.

Firstly, as regards termination on grounds of breach, Matthias Lehmann rightly questions whether the repeal of implementing legislation would as such qualify as a ‘material breach’ of the Brussels Convention. Although this is not straightforward, the repeal, taken together with the notification to the European Council of 29 January 2021, could amount to a ‘repudiation’ of the treaty (see Article 60, para 3(a) VCLT); this notion is understood as ‘encompass[ing] all means by which a party intends to relieve itself from its obligations under a treaty’  (cf here B. Simma, C. Tams, ‘Article 60’, para 16), and this is clearly the intention of the United Kingdom. However, under the rule reflected in Article 60(2)(a) VCLT the United Kingdom’s non-performance could be invoked as a ground for termination only by all the other Parties to the Brussels Convention acting together – most likely through the EU Institutions, in light of the EU’s acquired exclusive external competence in the issue. Should such a consensus exist, it would be much more practical to express it right away – even if only implicitly by accepting the UK’s request to accede to the Lugano Convention, in line with the approach of the other contracting Parties to the latter instrument (see here and here). The possibility for ‘specially affected States’ to individually suspend the Brussels Convention (Article 60(2)(b) VCLT) would seem to raise further difficulties also in light of the EU’s exclusive competence in the matter.

Whether the United Kingdom could invoke a fundamental change of circumstances is also doubtful in my view. I agree that the ‘subjective’ requirement set forth by Article 62 VCLT is met in this case, since membership in the European Union was ‘an essential basis of the consent’ of the United Kingdom to be bound by the Brussels Convention.  However, as Matthias Lehmann notes in his reply of 17 February 2021, it is by no means certain that a renewed application of that instrument would ‘radically […] transform the extent of obligations still to be performed under the treaty’ (Article 62(1)(b) VCLT).

The United Kingdom may be on safer ground in invoking Article 56 of the Vienna Convention, whose paragraph 1 stipulates: ‘A treaty which contains no provision regarding its termination and which does not provide for denunciation or withdrawal is not subject to denunciation or withdrawal unless: (a) it is established that the parties intended to admit the possibility of denunciation or withdrawal; or (b) a right of denunciation or withdrawal may be implied by the nature of the treaty’. Arguably the presumption against withdrawal enshrined in Article 56 can be rebutted in the case of the Brussels Convention (and of the 1978 Luxembourg Convention) by relying on either the intention of the parties or the nature of the treaty in question.

The scope of these exceptions is admittedly ambiguous, and the burden of proving that the situation falls under their scope would fall upon the United Kingdom (see here  T. Giegerich on Article 56, p. 1048, margin note 24). Notably the exception linked to the ‘nature’ of a treaty was the object of much controversy during the negotiations. According to the International Law Commission’s Special Rapporteur Waldock, the category would include ‘commercial and trading’ treaties, that seem much closer to the Brussels Convention than the examples of treaties which in his view ‘shall continue in force indefinitely’, listing treaties establishing boundaries and territorial regimes, treaties of peace, treaties concerning the final settlement of international disputes and multilateral treaties codifying general international law (see under Article 17 in his Second Report on the Law of Treaties, p. 64; on practice subsequent to the adoption of the Vienna Convention see however T. Christakis’ comment to Article 56, para 59).

A further indication as to the possibility to withdraw unilaterally from the Brussels Convention could come from ‘the intention of the parties’, under Article 56(1)(a) VCLT. The silence of the Brussels Convention could arguably be read in light of its nature as an instrument of EC Law, that others have highlighted in this discussion; this would militate in favour of a possibility for the United Kingdom to withdraw unilaterally once its membership in the EU has ceased, without necessarily meeting the requirements for termination in light of a fundamental change of circumstances. Nonetheless, a clear stance by the EU in this respect would be welcome in the interest legal certainty and of the stability of future relations.

The author of this post is Cecilia Rizcallah. She is visiting Professor at the Université Saint-Louis-Bruxelles and at the Université libre de Bruxelles, Postdoctoral Researcher at the National Fund for Scientific Research (F.R.S.-FNRS) and re:constitution fellow. As announced in a previous post, Cecilia is the author of a monograph on the principle of mutual trust in EU Law, based on her doctoral thesis. She has kindly accepted to provide us with a presentation of this key-principle of EU law with a special focus on EU judicial cooperation in civil matters.


The Principle of Mutual Trust, an Essential and Transversal Principle of EU law  

The principle of mutual trust, whose fundamental importance is recognised by the European Court of Justice (hereafter “ECJ”), became a genuine “leitmotiv” of discourses on EU integration. This principle indeed underpins a large set of EU rules of primary and secondary law, in the fields of the internal market and the area of freedom, security and justice.

The principle of mutual trust appeared at an early stage of European integration, in the area of mutual recognition of diplomas and professional qualifications and in the field of free movement of goods. Being an attractive tool for integration by allowing the opening-up of the different national legal orders, it was subsequently called upon in the areas of European judicial cooperation in civil and criminal matters, as well as in the area of the common asylum policy. In spite of its success, this principle lacked conceptualization. The main objective of my research was to remedy this nebulous situation by providing a cross-cutting definition of the principle of mutual trust. It also analysed its role for EU integration as well as its relationship with EU founding values, which include the rule of law and human rights. The principle of mutual trust is indeed presented as being “based on the fundamental premiss that each Member State shares with all the other Member States, and recognises that they share with it, a set of common values on which the Union is founded, as stated in Article 2 TEU” (ECJ, Opinion 2/13, pt. 168). Yet, the EU currently faces a “crisis of values” resulting from the existence of serious violations of these values and, in particular, the rule of law and human rights, in an increasing number of Member States.

The in-depth study of the manifestations of the principle of mutual trust shows that it imposes to the Member States to presume – to a certain extent and in their direct horizontal relationships – the compatibility of different national “legal solutions”.  Indeed, the principle of mutual trust requires Member States – when it applies – to “trust” acts issued by other Member States, or legal practices or situations tolerated in their territory. This duty of trust prevents, as a matter of principle, the double control of these national legal solutions’ compliance with EU law. The principle of mutual trust has nevertheless no direct effect and has therefore to be implemented by primary or secondary law in order to be applicable. It constitutes one of the foundations of the principle of mutual recognition, which in turn imposes, more specifically, the recognition of a legal act issued by another Member State.

The Principle of Mutual Trust, a Foundation of the Principle of Mutual Recognition in the Field of Judicial Cooperation in Civil Matters

In the field of judicial cooperation in civil matters, the principle of mutual trust opposes the revision of a judgment issued by a – issuing – Member State for which the recognition is sought in another – executing – Member State. It therefore countenances the principle of mutual recognition imposed by a number of instruments in civil and commercial matters, matrimonial matters and matters of parental responsibility and insolvency. A judgment deciding on the custody of a Franco-German couple’s child handed down in Berlin will thus be able to take effect almost without formalities in Paris, despite the specificities distinguishing German and French family law. The judgments issued by the Member States should be presumed as being “equivalent” and as complying with the requirements of Union law, particularly in terms of fundamental rights.

The Principle of Mutual Trust, at the Crossroads of the Imperatives of Unity, Diversity and Equality

As a matter of fact, the principle of mutual trust plays an essential role for EU integration. It indeed lies at the crossroads of three essential imperatives of the European construct: unity, diversity and equality between Member States. Despite the safeguarding of national substantive and procedural diversities, the borders between the Member States are fictitiously blurred so that – in broad terms – the legal solution of State A does not encounter any obstacles to penetrate the legal order of State B. The judgment issued by the authorities of a Member State A will indeed be able to take effect, without any formalities such as an exequatur, in the Member State B. In this way, the principle of mutual trust makes it possible to unify the national legal orders, which remain distinct and equal.

The Principle of Mutual Trust, a Source of Risk

Although it plays an essential role for EU integration, this principle generates important risks because of the lack of mutual control of legal solutions presumed to be compatible. It may indeed lead to the spread of unsatisfactory legal solutions – infringing EU law – within the European area without internal borders. These risks are of course amplified because of the existence of the “crisis of values”. The major challenges faced by the Union and the Member States in economic, security and migration matters have indeed revealed deep divisions as to the meaning of European integration and the values on which it is based. These divisions have gone so far as to lead to the existence of widespread and persistent failures which, in the opinion of the majority of observers, are causing a rule of law backsliding in a few Member States. This situation increases the likelihood that national legal solutions are incompatible with democratic values and the rule of law. A judgement issued by a judge who is no longer independent could indeed, by vertu of mutual trust, spread its effects in the other Member States.

The Principle of Mutual Trust Does not Impose “Blind” Trust

Exceptions have nevertheless been recognized to the principle of mutual trust in order to limit the risks of violation of EU founding values it entails. These exceptions must however be construed narrowly according to the ECJ, because of the principle mutual trust. Indeed, according to the Court, it is only in “exceptional circumstances” that this principle may be set aside (ECJ, Opinion 2/13, pt. 191).

The ECJ, for example precluded, with regards to the Brussels II bis regulation, the review, by an executing authority, of a decision requiring the return of a child issued on the basis of Article 42 of this regulation. In the Zarraga case, it held that the authorities of the executing Member State were not entitled to verify whether the court which issued the judgment requiring the return of the child had respected the child’s right to be heard, as provided for by the Regulation, since the principle of mutual trust requires the national authorities to consider “that their respective national legal systems are capable of providing an equivalent and effective protection of fundamental rights, recognised at European Union level, in particular, in the Charter of Fundamental Rights” (pt. 70). The Court of Justice justified this approach on the grounds that the regulation did not foresee any exceptions to this kind of decision and, also, that the child’s right to be heard is not absolute and that the national authorities are granted a margin of discretion regarding its application (pt. 66).

Exceptions to the principle of mutual trust have nevertheless been established, when more serious risks of violation of fundamental rights were at stake, in the context of the application of the Brussels I bis Regulation, which concerns the recognition and enforcement of judgments in civil and commercial matters and which establishes a general exception to mutual recognition based on public policy. This exception must however, still because of the principle of mutual trust, be construed narrowly. In the Krombach case, the Court of Justice nevertheless held that mutual recognition may be refused when the defendant has suffered “a manifest breach of his right to defend himself before the court of origin”. A similar conclusion was made in the Trade Agency case, where the Court of Justice stressed that the public policy clause could only be relied upon when the defendant’s right to a fair trial is “manifestly” breached, leading to the “impossibility of bringing an appropriate and effective appeal” against the judgement in the issuing state.

The study of all the exceptions surrounding the principle of mutual trust led to the conclusion that if not all violations of fundamental rights justify setting aside mutual trust, the ones threatening absolute fundamental rights (such as the prohibition of inhuman and degrading treatment) or the essential content of other fundamental rights, in the sense of Article 52(1) of the Charter do. Indeed, only the most serious violations of fundamental freedoms seem to exclude the application of the principle of mutual trust.

This observation is based on the case-law in private international law (above) which refers to the concept of “manifest breach”, but also in the field of criminal cooperation and asylum where the Court found that a risk of infringement of Article 4 of the Charter prohibiting inhuman and degrading treatments excluded mutual trust.

Yet, if the integration aims pursued by the principle of mutual trust are legitimate, one can nevertheless wonder how to justify that this principle continues to apply even in presence of risks of “simple” infringements of fundamental freedoms, especially since this principle is supposed to be based on the respect of these rights by all the member states. The implementation of the principle of mutual trust can therefore in itself weaken its proper foundations.

The Principle of Mutual Trust, a Risk Analysis

 Observing the unsatisfactory character of the limitation scheme surrounding the principle of mutual trust, this research ended by proposing ways of improving its operation so that the founding values of the Union are better protected. More specifically, we call on those involved in mutual trust to transform the principle of mutual trust from a postulate into a method. In other words, we propose to move away from the postulate of trust in favour of a methodical application of trust.

This method, which is based on risk management tools notably developed by the Society for Risk Analysis, is divided into two phases.

The first is aimed at EU institutions that implement, in an abstract way, mutual trust in standards with a general scope: when they adopt an EU legislation implementing this principle, it seems desirable to us that they carry out a risk analysis and that they adapt the exceptions enshrined in this instrument accordingly. To this end, several steps are proposed, which differ according to the type of value exposed by the envisaged legislation, the type and seriousness of the damage incurred, and the possible vulnerability of the resources concerned. For example, when fundamental rights are threatened by the instrument underpinned by the principle of mutual trust – such as the best interest of the child in the framework of the Brussels II bis regulation – we consider that a margin of appreciation should be reserved to national authorities implementing the instrument on a case-by-case basis.

The second phase is aimed at the actors who actually implement these general instruments in specific cases (judges, administrations, etc.). Here too, guidelines that could guide these actors in this task are developed, always with a view to increasing the protection of the fundamental rights of individuals. The method deals in particular with the question of the adjustment of the burden of proof, an issue that is of particular importance in litigation, especially when it comes to protecting fundamental rights. In this sense, if the existence of risks of serious violations of fundamental rights is alleged and demonstrated prima facie, we recommend a shift of the burden of the proof so that it would be up to the authority that wants to take advantage of the principle of mutual trust to demonstrate the non-existence of this risk. This proposition is largely inspired by the adjustment of the burden of the proof in non-discriminatory law (see, for example, art. 10 of Directive 2000/78)

As a complement to this method, various “risk management tools” are also explored, making it possible to reduce those that threaten human rights in the context of the implementation of mutual trust. These tools include minimum harmonization, the strengthening of procedural guarantees surrounding the principle of mutual trust, the establishment of solidarity mechanisms between the Member States, …

Evidently, this method does not claim to solve all the difficulties arising from the principle of mutual trust. On the contrary: it aims at opening the discussion on the basis of a systematic identification of the risks induced by this principle, and to inspire the stakeholders with a few best practices.

The post below was written by Andrew Dickinson, Fellow of St Catherine’s College and Professor of Law, University of Oxford. It is the the first contribution to an on-line symposium devoted to the fate of the 1968 Brussels Convention: further contributions will be published on this blog in the coming days.

The symposium follows a lively exchange prompted by a post by Matthias Lehmann (Brexit and the Brussels Convention: It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue?), which attracted comments by Eduardo Álvarez-Armas, Apostolos Anthimos, Gilles Cuniberti, Burkhard Hess, Costanza Honorati, Alex Layton, François Mailhé and Fabrizio Marongiu Buonaiuti.

Readers are encouraged to share their views by commenting the contributions. Those wishing to submit a full contribution to the on-line symposium are invited to get in touch with Pietro Franzina at pietro.franzina@unicatt.it.


In recent months, rumours have circulated in social media and the blogosphere that the Brussels Convention (*see below) is to launch a “Brexit revival tour” in the courts of its Contracting States. This appears, in part at least, to be an exercise in wishful thinking by supporters of closer judicial cooperation in civil and commercial matters between the EU’s Member States on the one hand and their former partner, the UK, on the other.

More recently, the permanent representative of the UK Government, the operator of the UK venues, has written to the Secretary-General of the EU Council to deny their involvement in any revival. Although other members have hitherto remained silent, their longstanding representative, the European Commission, has already expressed its own opinion that there is no role for the Convention in the post-Brexit landscape. In its view, “EU rules on enforcement will not apply to judicial decisions where the original proceedings have been instituted after the end of the [Brexit] transition period”. In the preceding paragraph of its statement, the Commission makes clear that its reference to “EU rules on enforcement” includes the 1968 Brussels Convention, and that the Withdrawal Agreement concluded between the EU and UK should be read in that light.

This appears an opportune moment, as a longstanding afficionado of the Convention, to express my own view: that a comeback tour would as undesirable as it is improbable. Before summarising my reasons for reaching that conclusion, two important points are worth clarifying.

First, despite speculation to the contrary, the Convention has not been “terminated”. As Recital (23) and Article 68 of the Brussels I Regulation make clear, the Convention still applies to the territories of the Member States that fall within Convention’s territorial scope while being excluded from the Regulation by Article 299 of the EC Treaty (now TFEU, Article 355 – see Recital (9) and Article 68 of the Recast Brussels I Regulation. Performances have continued, for example, in Aruba and New Caledonia.

The question which presents itself, therefore, is whether the arrangements put in place by the Convention no longer (from 1 January 2021) apply to relations between the UK, on the one hand, and the other Contracting States or whether the Convention applies with renewed vigour to those relationships now that the EU treaties and the Brussels Regulations no longer apply to the UK. That is a question of modification or suspension, not of termination.

Secondly, although Convention is a treaty, it is not one that is removed from the EU’s legal system: instead, it exists as a satellite and, like a moon orbiting a planet, is subject to the gravitational pull of EU law. Although formally concluded outside the framework of the original EEC/EC Treaty, the Convention is inexorably linked to that Treaty (and the treaties that replaced it):

  • through Article 293 (ex-Article 220) of the EC Treaty (which inspired and justified the Convention);
  • through its role in strengthening the legal protection of persons in the context of the common, later internal, market: as the Commission stated when it proposed the formation of the Convention between the EEC’s original members, “a true internal market between the six States will be achieved only if adequate legal protection can be secured” (Jenard Report, [1]);
  • through the role of the European Court Justice in interpreting its provisions under the 1971 Protocol: from the outset, the ECJ has treated the Brussels Convention as an instrument within the province of EC law and not merely as a standalone international treaty falling to be interpreted according to the rules and principles of public international law: see eg Mund & Fester v Hatrex International Transport, [11]-[12].

If interpretation of the Brussels Convention does fall within the province of EU law, there is no need to treat questions concerning its modification or suspension differently. Indeed, as the question of the Brussels Convention’s status depends upon the interpretation and effect of the EU treaties and of the Brussels Regulations (see below), it is not difficult to see the matter as having its centre of gravity in European Union’s own (autonomous) legal order rather than in public international law (see Wightman v Secretary of State for Exiting the European Union, [44]-[46]). Principles of customary international law, and of the Vienna Conventions insofar as they describe or establish those principles, accordingly, take on a subsidiary role as part of the set of general principles of EU law (Wightman, [70]-[71]).

With these points in mind, let me identify briefly the main reasons for opposing the renewed application of the Brussels Convention to govern jurisdiction and the recognition and enforcement of judgments in matters involving the UK and the other Contracting States from 1 January 2021 onwards:

  1. As a matter of first impression, the argument in favour of the “Brexit revival tour” is not a promising one. It involves two linked propositions: (i) the Brussels Convention automatically springs back to occupy the legal domain formerly controlled by the Brussels Regulations, which themselves no longer apply to the UK following the UK’s withdrawal from the EU resulting in the cessation of the EU treaties (TEU, Article 50(3)); and (ii) it does so because the Brussels I Regulation (and Recast Brussels I Regulation) merely suspended the Convention’s operation as between the (then) Member States (subjection to the exceptions expressly set out) for the period in which the Regulations remained in force.
  2. The first proposition seems counterintuitive: a convention expressly contemplated by the EC Treaty, concluded to achieve close co-operation in the field of civil justice between Member States and to facilitate the functioning of the common (internal) market supposedly acquires new vigour when one of the participating Member States chooses to remove itself from the EU on terms that bring an end to its participation in the internal market and that make no provision for continued co-operation in civil justice matters.
  3. Although the Brussels Convention was, admittedly, concluded for an unlimited period (Article 67), this was done at a time when the EC Treaty did not (at least expressly) contemplate that a Member State might withdraw from the Community. As its Preamble emphasises, the parties to the Convention acted in their capacity as parties to the EC Treaty.
  4. The Preamble to the 1978 Convention of the Accession of the UK, alongside Denmark and Ireland, to the Brussels Convention records that the three States had “in becoming members of the Community” undertaken to accede to the Brussels Convention (see Article 3(2) of the Accession Treaty). Article 39 of the 1978 Convention refers to the UK as a “new Member State”. This highlights the awkward nature of the proposition that the Convention should spring back on the occasion of the UK becoming a former Member State.
  5. As to the second proposition, the Brussels I Regulation was also adopted at a time when the EC Treaty (amended by the Treaty of Amsterdam) did not (at least expressly) contemplate that a Member State might withdraw. Its recitals refer to the progressive establishment of the area of freedom, security and justice to facilitate the internal market (Recital (1)), to the work done within the EU’s institutions to revise the Brussels Convention (Recital (5)), to the need to replace the Convention with a Community legal instrument (Recital (6)) and to the desire to ensure continuity between the Convention and the Regulation (Recital (19)). These matters, as well as the explicit reservation of the Convention’s application to overseas territories to which the Regulation did not apply (Recital (23)), point overwhelmingly to a movement in one direction only, with the Regulation permanently overriding the Convention within the Regulation’s sphere of operation.
  6. Although the language of Article 68 of the Brussels I Regulation (in the English language version: “supercede”, “replaces”; in the French, “remplace”; in the German, “tritt … an die Stelle”, “ersetzt”) is not unambiguous, a contextual and teleological interpretation of this provision strongly favours the conclusion that the intention of the EU and of its Member States was that the Regulation would permanently replace the Convention in relations between the Member States (rather than suspending its operation for the period in which the Regulation remained in force).
  7. Admittedly, if one reaches that conclusion, it rather begs the question why (if Article 68 of the Regulation adopted in 2000 had overridden the Convention once and for all), the legislator considered it necessary to carry that provision forward into Article 68 of the Recast Brussels I Regulation. This can, however, be explained as a sensible measure to account for the relationship of the three instruments and the need for continuity from the original Convention, via the original Regulation to the recast Regulation (see Recitals (7)-(9) and (34) of the recast Regulation). (In any event, for reasons of legal certainty, the relationship between the Convention and the original Brussels I Regulation should be determined without reference to the later, recast Regulation.)
  8. Understandably, the thirteen Member States who joined the EU after the enactment of the Brussels I Regulation were not required in their accession treaties to join the Brussels Convention. A reading of Article 68 of the Regulation that merely suspended the Convention in relations between the UK and the other Contracting States would produce an arbitrary and unsatisfactory schism between “old” and “new” Member States. It would also undermine the exclusive external competence of the EC/EU in this field generated by the adoption of the Regulation.
  9. Although its supporters still rightly endorse its virtues, the Brussels Convention is, uncontroversially, “old technology”. Recital (5) of the original Brussels I Regulation accepted the need to update it, and the EU’s approach to questions of jurisdiction and the recognition and enforcement of judgments evolved further with the recast Regulation.
  10. At a time when parties to the Lugano Convention are pressing for an update to bring it into line with the recast Regulation and a review of the Regulation lies in the not too distant future, it offends common sense to suggest that the EU’s acquis should be interpreted in a way that produces the result that fourteen of the EU’s Member States and its one former Member State are required to re-establish close (but outdated) treaty relations in the field of civil justice, while the others must deal with the UK on the basis of national law rules alone.
  11. The UK and the Commission are right to reject the revival of the Brussels Convention. It is best for all of us that we live with our warm memories of its back catalogue, and use them to press for closer civil justice cooperation in the future between the legal systems of the UK and the EU. The 2007 Lugano Convention is the right place to start.

 

(*) The Brussels Convention (or to use the full title Convention on jurisdiction and the enforcement of judgments in civil and commercial matters), initially formed in 1968, and reformed on a number of occasions since (most recently in 1998, has 15 members (“Contracting States”) being the first fifteen Member States of the European Communities. Member States joining the European Union after 1998 (13 in total) are not members of the Convention.

On 5 February 2021, the Universities of Amsterdam, Maastricht and Tilburg, in collaboration with the Open University, organized an online seminar on The Netherlands, a forum conveniens for collective redress?

A group of experts in the field addressed both procedural and private international law aspects of collective actions under the Dutch and European frameworks. The first panel of the seminar discussed whether the current private international law instruments need specific rules on collective actions and settlements. Burkhard Hess and Alexia Pato drafted some preliminary statements that sparked interesting discussions. The questions related to standing to sue under the Directive on representative actions (2020/1828), which where discussed in the third panel of the day, will also be published on the EAPIL blog. Finally, a brief account of the whole seminar will be published in the Dutch journal on PIL, NIPR.

 

Panel 1. Statement: The instruments of European private international law (Brussels I, Rome II) are in need of specific rules for collective action and collective settlements. 

AP: The proposed statement for the present panel is that EU instruments on Private International Law need specific rules on collective redress. I believe that this statement is true as far as the Brussels I bis Regulation is concerned.

BH:  First, I would like to thank the organizers of this webinar for the thorough preparation of today’s event. The explanation of the Dutch case law and the small films on the structural issues of jurisdiction, pendency and applicable law are very much appealing. I assume that the audience expects this panel to be a little bit controversial. In this respect, I would like to state that I am less optimistic regarding the enactment of a specific EU instrument on cross-border collective redress. However, we will come back to this issue in the course of our common reflections.

  1. AP: Let us start with Article 4 of Regulation Brussels I bis, the general head for international jurisdiction. One might question whether litigation in the defendant’s domicile should be promoted in all cases. In that sense, it is interesting to note that the Directive on representative actions implements the mutual recognition of representative entities’ standing to sue, so that access to courts of other Member States is facilitated. Coupled with the fact that the Directive leaves Private International Law questions to the Regulations already in force, one cannot help but conclude that litigation in the domicile of the defendant should remain the general rule, according to the European legislator. Nevertheless, that forum might not be always accessible, especially where small-value claims are involved. In consumer law cases, for example, consumer associations have tried to use the alternative forum of Article 7(2) of Regulation Brussels I bis, which opens a forum on the market they are active in. This could be a mere strategic move or the evidence that cross-border litigation is uneasy. Either way, I believe that this question should be further examined.

BH: The basic principle of the Brussels I bis Regime is actor sequitur forum rei. It corresponds to the basic idea that a party should primarily defend against the lawsuit brought against her or him at home. There might be a home advantage, especially when a large enterprise is facing a high value lawsuit and the compensation sought may impact on employment. However, as collective redress usually empowers the plaintiff(s), at first sight there is no (compelling) need to further privilege collective redress with regard to jurisdiction. Article 79(2) GDPR is an example where the EU lawmaker enlarged the grounds of jurisdiction in favour of the plaintiffs. However, I have the impression that this provision shall strengthen the extraterritorial application of EU data protection law vis à vis third state defendants.

  1. AP: Second, even though the Dutch case law on collective actions involving environmental harms recalls that the mandatory nature of Article 4 of Regulation Brussels I bis must be respected, this idea has been challenged before the English courts. In particular, in Vedanta, the UK Supreme Court seemed to admit that an exception to Article 4 of Regulation Brussels I bis is conceivable, when “the claimant has no genuine intention to seek a remedy against the anchor defendant”. Additionally, cases such as Trafigura and Petrobras pose the question whether party autonomy could supplant the application of Article 4 of Regulation Brussels I bis.

BH: This issue seems to me to be more related to Article 8(1) of Regulation Brussels I bis. This provision was generously interpreted when the CJEU in case C-352/13, CDC, permitted actions against co-defendants to move on. In this case, the plaintiff and the anchor defendant had settled the case even before the lawsuits against the co-defendants had been served. However, the CJEU held that a control of abuse might be possible in the realm of Article 8(1) of Regulation Brussels I bis.

  1. AP: In cases such as Milieudefensie v. Shell, the Dutch courts had to assess whether jurisdiction could be asserted over the foreign subsidiary of a Dutch mother company, based on Article 7 of the Dutch Code of Civil Procedure, which corresponds to Article 8(1) of Regulation Brussels I bis at the EU level. This kind of scenario obliges us to determine whether jurisdiction should be exercised when the dispute involves foreign plaintiffs, a foreign co-defendant, a foreign harm, and the application of a foreign law. The tension between access to justice and the private international law principles, according to which jurisdiction is allocated where some relevant connecting factors link the court to the dispute is particularly visible in those kinds of cases. Having a look at the case law of other jurisdictions, such as the US, one observes that the tendency is to restrict the assertion of jurisdiction in foreign-cubed cases. In all cases, a redefinition of our policy objectives (e.g. avoid the risk of irreconcilable judgments, provide access to justice, etc.) might be necessary in order to better frame what the general rule on the attraction of co-defendants and its exception should be.

BH: Objectively, jurisdiction over co-defendants may amount to an exorbitant head of jurisdiction when the relationship between the main defendant and the co-defendant appears to be superficial and loose. However, when it comes to tortious behaviour, the decision-making in the board of a mother company related to the foreign subsidiary may amount to tortious conduct. Yet, these are facts easy to assert but very difficult to prove. In the context of Article 7(2) of Regulation Brussels I bis, the CJEU has been very reluctant with regard to co-perpetrators (cf. case C-228/11, Melzer).

  1. AP: As regards the WCAM procedure, asserting international jurisdiction to declare collective settlement agreements binding has been controversial as well. In Shell and Converium, the Amsterdam Court of Appeal considered that the victims located in the Netherlands were the defendants and declared that it had jurisdiction according to Article 4 of Regulation Brussels I bis. Victims domiciled in other EU Member States were included within the collective settlement thanks to Article 8(1) of Regulation Brussels I bis. This means that the presence of one shareholder in the Netherlands allocates jurisdiction to Dutch courts. Of course, this has to be mitigated by the fact that both petitioners freely chose to submit to the jurisdictional power of those courts. However, would that situation be sustainable if all Member States had a WCAM mechanism and hence, the ability to declare EU-wide settlements binding? Put differently, the question is whether Private International Laws rules on jurisdiction should adapt (and if so, how?) or remain unchanged.

BH: The problem related to WCAM relates to the applicability of the Brussels I bis Regulation: Does the “homologation” of an out of court settlement really amount to a dispute litigated in courts? (here, I would like to add that the same concerns relate to schemes of arrangement). Just to put it differently: Are non-contentious proceedings in the material scope of the jurisdictional regime of Brussels I bis? The difficulties start with the determination of the role of the parties: who is the plaintiff, who is the defendant? To my opinion, jurisdiction in these cases should be based on articles 25 or 26 in case one agrees that the Brussels I bis Regulation applies to this constellation.

  1. AP: As regards the application of the special and protective fora of Regulation Brussels I bis, it is commonly acknowledged that collective redress actions, which protect a general interest, such as the environment or the market as a whole, may be brought in the place where the damage occurred, as case C-167/00, Henkel, shows. When the collective redress action bundles many individual claims, the centralisation of those claims in a place other than the defendant’s domicile is trickier. As the CJEU ruled in C- 498/16, Schrems, multiple claims cannot be bundled in the forum of one consumer’s habitual residence (section IV of the Regulation Brussels Ibis). Even though such a result is bad news for access to justice, I believe that the current text of the Regulation would not have allowed the CJEU to come up with another solution. The centralisation of claims at the place where the damage occurred is difficult as well, as Article 7(2) of the Regulation Brussels I bis allocates not only international but also territorial jurisdiction, and the place of the damage will hardly ever be exactly the same for all victims. In the case C-709/19, VEB, the AG seems to open the door to the centralisation of claims for victims who are located within the same Member State. He says (I quote) ‘the problems of territorial fragmentation arising from a strict application of Article 7(2) Brussels I bis could be solved by arguments in support of a specialised court in a particular local jurisdiction’. However, I doubt that Article 7(2) of Regulation Brussels I bis actually allows domestic procedural law to modify the venue designated by the Regulation.

BH.: As far as consumer claims are concerned, Articles 16 and 17 of Regulation Brussels I bis only apply to contractual claims – but this may be the case when private shareholders sue the company. In his Opinion on case C-498/16 AG Bobek clearly and correctly stated that the introduction of a new head of jurisdiction for consumer collective claims is a matter for the EU lawmaker, the argument has been taken up by AG Campos Sánchez-Bordona in case C-709/19, VEB.

According to the case law of the CJEU as it stands today, the application of Article 7(2) requires more than a pure pecuniary loss to fix the locus damni. In this regard, the Opinion in case C-709/19, VEB, clearly (and correctly) indicate that neither the location of an investment account, nor the status as consumers of some of the investors establish a sufficient connection with the Netherlands. In the case of a declaratory action, followed by (individual) actions for damages, the place of the damage is difficult to assess when there is no clear indication of the place of the damage in the first phase of the proceedings.

On the other hand, I do not see a problem in setting up a specialised court in a Member State having particular jurisdiction for a specific type of claims. In case C-400/13, Huber and Sander, the CJEU has already decided that the concentration of venue in one court by the MS is not excluded by the specific heads of jurisdiction of the Maintenance Regulation which equally address both: international jurisdiction and venue. A good example could be follow-on actions related to cartel law violations; let’s see what is decided in the pending case C-30/20, Volvo.

  1. AP: My last point concerns parallel litigation. The emergence of multiple proceedings in several states may give rise to potential ‘overlaps’ between actions. Those overlaps represent a waste of judicial resources and may generate inconsistent judgments, as well as overcompensation. At the same time, we have to accept that parallel litigation is a by-product of our jurisdictional system, which provides for alternative fora. To some degree, parallel litigation will therefore take place. Within the Brussels regime, the lis pendens rule of Article 29 of the Regulation Brussels Ibis should hardly ever apply in collective redress cases as the formal (or even material) identity of parties in parallel proceedings will usually not be met. As for Article 30 of the Regulation, on related actions, this provision could theoretically apply to parallel proceedings in collective actions. However, potential delays in the resolution of the dispute and possible disparities between the claims will more often than not militate against the stay of proceedings. Both the Steinhoff and Libor cases illustrate the difficulties that parallel ligation generates.

In all cases, a clear-cut rule on stay of proceedings does not seem to be an option, as collective redress mechanisms vary from state to state. As regards the difficulty to determine which court is seised first, one could imagine implementing a communication channel between courts in the manner of Article 29(2) of Regulation Brussels I bis or setting up an EU-wide register of collective redress actions, as the Commission’s Recommendations of 2013 suggest. These proposals are no panacea, but they might nevertheless bring more clarity to this complex legal landscape.

BH: As long as collective actions are based on opt in, the problems of pendency and relatedness are manageable. The moment, a person opts in a collective lawsuit should be the moment of pendency for this person as he or she becomes by registration a party to the (collective) proceedings. I am happy to see that the new Directive on Collective Redress for Consumers is based on the basic idea that in cross-border settings only opt in is possible, see Article 9(3) of Directive (EU) 2020/1828. However, the Directive addresses problems of cross-border litigation rather randomly and Article 3(7) provides for a strange definition of a cross-border representative action, whereby a cross-border situation is present ‘where a qualified entity in another EU Member State brings an action in another EU Member State than that in which the qualified entity was designated.’ This definition is not in line with the concept of the Brussels regime and demonstrates that the Directive primarily provides for the mutual (but limited) recognition of the standing of qualified entities in the courts of other EU Member States. I addressed these issues in my book on Europäisches Zivilprozessrecht (2nd ed., 2021) ch. 11, at paras 11.78 -11.87.

However, the Directive only intends to achieve procedural minimum harmonisation. Consequently, Member States may go further and expand collective redress mechanisms based on opt out also to cross-border settings. In these constellations only Article 30 of Regulation Brussels I bis applies to parallel proceedings. As Alexia has explained, this provision is based on judicial discretion and, therefore, is not suited to effectively coordinate overlapping opt out proceedings pending in several EU Member States. An additional weakness is that this provision only permits the first proceedings to move forward – this might not be an optimal solution in the case of competing, overlapping collective actions.

When it comes to the certification of the class, Article 32 of the Brussels I bis Regulation is difficult to apply. This is well explained in the video of Ianika Tzankova. To my opinion, the decisive moment should be either the filing of the lawsuit or the filing of the application to permit the collective case to proceed. This flexibility corresponds to the aims of Article 32 of Regulation Brussels I bis.

  1. AP: To conclude, the application of Private International rules on jurisdiction to collective redress cases is uneasy and forces us to reconsider what kind of policy objectives should be promoted. On the one hand, we could encourage litigation at the defendant’s domicile, which would limit parallel litigation to a certain extent. However, we would probably have to think about creating extra-incentives for representative entities to be able to reach that forum. We would also have to think about potential exceptions to the application of this general rule in light of the case-law involving environmental matters. On the other hand, if a closer forum is to be offered and promoted, access to justice would be fostered, but parallel litigation would probably increase, and more coordination measures would be required. In all cases, recent mass harm situations have stretched the interpretative limits of the Brussels I bis provisions and we have been forced to create extravagant interpretations, so that the system could hold. I believe that now is a good time for a change and I support the enactment of a truly appropriate regulatory regime for cross-border collective redress.

BH: Should the EU lawmaker intervene? To my opinion, this would be a considerable political challenge, as there is currently a clear competition among Member States either to promote their judicial systems to attract collective litigation (as in the Netherlands) or to protect their industries from collective redress (as it is still the case in Germany). Against this background, the chances of a binding EU instrument on the coordination of the different cross-border collective redress instruments in the EU Member States appear to be limited. Member States might strongly oppose to such a zealous project. They already did it when the Recast of the Brussels I Regulation was negotiated.

When enacting Directive 2020/1828, the EU lawmaker intentionally avoided to set a clear framework for the different instruments on collective litigation in the Member States (cf. Article 1(2)). The Directive only requires that Member States provide for an instrument of collective redress corresponding to the main features of the Directive. However, it is worth noting that most of the mandatory provisions of the Directive apply to cross-border settings and require an opting in. Nevertheless, it remains to be seen whether the CJEU will interpret the Regulation Brussels I bis and the Directive in a systematic way. This might finally entail that only opt in instruments will be included into the Brussels regime.

The author of this post is Estelle Gallant, professor of private law at the University of Toulouse 1 Capitole.


On 30 September 2020, the French Supreme Court for civil and criminal matters ruled on the respective scopes of the Brussels II bis Regulation and the 1996 Hague Convention on Jurisdiction, Applicable Law, Recognition, Enforcement and Co-operation in Respect of Parental Responsibility and Measures for the Protection of Children in a parental conflict between France and Switzerland (Cass. 1st Civil Chamber, 30 Sept. 2020, no. 19-14.761). The difficulty arose following a change in the habitual residence of the child while proceedings concerning his custody were pending before French courts.

Facts and Legal Issues 

The dispute concerned the divorce proceedings of a multinational couple: the husband was of French-Swiss national while the wife was of Swiss, Irish and Danish national. They lived in Switzerland before separating and setting up a cross-border alternating residence between Switzerland and France for their children. It was at that time that a petition for divorce was filed in France. However, after the father’s imprisonment, and with his agreement, the children’s residence was transferred exclusively to the mother’s home in Switzerland. This created an issue with respect to the international jurisdiction of French court.

Judgment of the French Supreme Court

French lower courts had concluded that they had jurisdiction on the basis of the Brussels II bis Regulation. But, before the Supreme Court, the mother invoked the jurisdiction of the Swiss authorities on the basis of the 1996 Hague Convention applicable in both Switzerland and France. In accordance with Article 5 of the 1996 Hague Convention and Article 61 of the Brussels II bis Regulation, the Supreme Court set aside the decision of the Court of Appeal which had retained jurisdiction on the basis of the Brussels II bis Regulation. According to the Supreme Court, since habitual residence had been lawfully transferred to a third State of the European Union but a Contracting State to the 1996 Convention, only that Convention was applicable and French courts therefore had no jurisdiction.

Assessment

How can this conflict between the Brussels II bis Regulation and the 1996 Hague Convention be resolved?

The 1996 Hague Convention has been in force in France since 1 February 2011. The Brussels II bis Regulation has been applicable since 1 March 2005. The two competing instruments have a common material scope of application since they both deal with conflicts of jurisdiction in matters of parental responsibility and child protection. Since both are applicable in France, it is necessary to find out which one should be preferred over the other: a rule of compatibility is therefore necessary.

Article 61 of the Brussels II bis Regulation provides a specific rule on the respective scopes of the Regulation and the 1996 Hague Convention. The Regulation provides that it prevails over the Convention “where the child concerned has his or her habitual residence on the territory of a Member State”.

In this case, the whole question was therefore where the children resided and then to determine the applicable instrument. If the habitual residence was in Switzerland – a third State to the European Union but a party to the Hague Convention –, the 1996 Hague Convention applied; if it were in France, however, the Brussels II bis Regulation applied.

However, the determination of the children’s habitual residence in this case was complicated by the change of habitual residence during the proceedings. At the time of the divorce petition filed in France in January 2016, the habitual residence was a cross-border alternating residence between Switzerland and France. But, when the French Court of Appeal ruled, the habitual residence had been exclusively and lawfully transferred to Switzerland. This new residence was not under discussion. The discussion in this case is therefore not about the location of the children’s habitual residence (initially alternating between France and Switzerland and then transferred exclusively to Switzerland), but about the time at which it should be assessed.

Thus, while the distributive criterion used in Article 61 of the Regulation is perfectly clear – habitual residence in or outside a Member State of the European Union – it does not offer any temporal rule, which would have been eminently useful in this case.

The only area where temporal details can be found is that of the rules of jurisdiction. The latter, based in both texts on the criterion of the child’s habitual residence, resolve the change in the connecting factor.  In this respect, two situations must be distinguished, depending on whether the change of habitual residence occurs outside any pending proceedings or, conversely during the proceedings.

In the event of a “classic” change of habitual residence, outside of any pending proceedings, the two texts resolve the difficulty in favour of the child’s new habitual residence (explicit solution in the Hague Convention ; resulting from a combined reading of Articles 8, 9 and 10 of the Regulation).

If, on the other hand, there is a change of habitual residence in the course of proceedings, the solution is not identical. While the Regulation states that the habitual residence must be assessed “at the time the court is seised” (Article 8(1)), the 1996 Hague Convention provides for the jurisdiction of the authorities of the “new habitual residence”. The difference in wording means that under the Brussels II bis Regulation, once seised, the court retains jurisdiction, even if the child is subsequently lawfully moved to another Member State, whereas under the 1996 Hague Convention, a change of habitual residence during the course of proceedings entails an immediate transfer of jurisdiction to the authorities of the new habitual residence.

The temptation might have been great, in order to resolve the question of the location of the habitual residence in the context of Article 61, i.e. for the purposes of determining the applicable instrument, to use the temporal criterion contained in the rules of jurisdiction. This seems to have been the reasoning of the Court of Appeal, which ruled that although the children’s habitual residence has since been transferred to Switzerland, the habitual residence was in France at the time the first court was seised, thus maintaining the jurisdiction of French courts on the basis of the Brussels II bis Regulation. However, while the reasoning is strictly correct from the point of view of jurisdiction based on the Brussels II bis Regulation, it is not correct from the point of view of the implementation of Article 61.

The Supreme Court does not go down this road. The solution it favours can be summarised as follows: admittedly, under the Brussels II bis Regulation, the French court had jurisdiction, since the children’s habitual residence was in France at the time the French court was seised. However, at the time when the court ruled, the Brussels II bis Regulation was no longer applicable under Article 61 of the Regulation, since the children’s habitual residence was in Switzerland, a third State of the European Union but a Contracting State of the Hague Convention. Under that Convention, and on the basis of Article 5 thereof, French courts therefore no longer had jurisdiction; Swiss courts did.

At last, in order for the change of habitual residence to be effective, both in terms of the relationship between the Regulation and the Convention and in terms of jurisdiction, the judgment suggests that there are two conditions.

Firstly, the new habitual residence must of course be in a Contracting State to the Hague Convention, which is the case of Switzerland. If not, it is not certain that the Brussels II bis Regulation would have ‘lost’ its applicability, but the situation would certainly have led to a conflict of proceedings. The solution provided by the French Supreme Court thus illustrates one of the benefits of judicial cooperation between states.

Secondly, the change of habitual residence must be lawful. In the event of a wrongful change of habitual residence to Switzerland, the Brussels II bis Regulation would have remained applicable and thus led to the French authorities retaining jurisdiction (Article 10). If the abductor brought the case before a Swiss court, the Swiss court could have adopted the same solution and declined jurisdiction on the basis of Article 7 of the 1996 Hague Convention.

Finally, it may be objected that, by reasoning in this way, the Court added criteria to Article 61, which does not contain any: a temporal criterion and a criterion of lawfulness of the change of habitual residence. The solution must, however, be approved, as it is both the most pragmatic and the most consistent with the spirit of the compatibility clause contained in Article 61 of the Regulation. It avoids the – undesirable – diversion through the rules of jurisdiction and allows account to be taken of the reality of the children’s actual situation, to which the criterion of habitual residence adopted by all the texts, undoubtedly aspires.

In 2020, the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU) ruled twice on whether sovereign immunities are relevant to define the material scope of the European law of jurisdiction. The first case was concerned with the immunity from jurisdiction of the state of Panama (Rina, case C-641/18: see reports here, here and here). The second was concerned with the immunity from enforcement of an international organisation, the headquarters of NATO (SHAPE, case C-186/19: see reports here and here).

Since the 1968 Brussels Convention, the European law of jurisdiction and judgments has been limited to civil and commercial matters. Most other instruments of European civil procedure have incorporated the same limitation. Since the Eurocontrol case in 1976, the European Court of Justice has consistently defined civil and commercial matters as excluding actions by public authorities acting in the exercise of their powers, i.e. powers falling outside the scope of the ordinary legal rules applicable to relationships between private individuals. This definition has now been codified in Article 1(1) of the Brussels I bis Regulation, which refers to “the liability of the State for acts and omissions in the exercise of State authority (acta iure imperii)”.

The test of acta iure imperii is also widely used to define the scope of sovereign immunities and, in particular, the scope of jurisdictional immunities. It was only logical, therefore, to ask whether the concept of civil and commercial matters should be defined by reference to the definition of sovereign immunities. As explained (but not endorsed) by AG Szpunar in the Rina case, one could argue “that the concept of ‘civil and commercial matters’ should coincide with the negative scope of jurisdictional immunity” (para. 43). The consequence of such an analysis would be that the scope of the Brussels Ibis Regulation would not be defined autonomously, but by reference to other norms which are external to the EU. Sovereign immunities are governed by customary international law but also, to a large extent, by national laws.

The Relevance of International Law: Rina

In Rina, the CJEU seemingly endorsed the idea that international law is relevant to define the scope of the Brussels Ibis Regulation.

The Court started by recognising that “the immunity of States from jurisdiction is enshrined in international law”, which nobody doubts.

The Court, then, reached the troubling conclusion that the test for defining civil and commercial matters should depend on international law. The Court held:

57 In the present case, as the Advocate General stated in points 108 to 128 of his Opinion, the immunity from jurisdiction of bodies governed by private law, such as the Rina companies, is not generally recognised as regards classification and certification operations for ships, where they have not been carried out iure imperii within the meaning of international law.

58  Accordingly, it must be held that the principle of customary international law concerning immunity from jurisdiction does not preclude the application of Regulation No 44/2001 in a dispute relating to an action for damages against bodies governed by private law, such as the Rina companies, on account of the classification and certification activities carried out by them, upon delegation from and on behalf of a third State, where the court seised finds that such bodies have not had recourse to public powers, within the meaning of international law.

The idea that international law should influence the definition of civil and commercial matters raises a number of issues, many of which were pointed out by the AGs in both the Rina and SHAPE cases. In this post, I would like to insist on two of them.

The first is that the content of international law is unclear. As pointed out by AG Szpunar, the international conventions which were adopted in this field were either ratified by few Member States, or never entered into force. A number of courts have stated that the 2004 UN Convention on on Jurisdictional Immunities of States and Their Property is representative of customary public international law, but as the International Court of Justice itself has pointed out, a number of its provisions were hotly debated during the negotiations, and thus cannot be considered as representing any form of international consensus. The truth of the matter is that the international law of sovereign immunities is, on many issues, vague and not clearly defined. In addition, states have long regulated sovereign immunities at national level, whether by statutes or by the courts. If the CJEU were to interpret international law to define civil and commercial matters, it might contribute to the development of international law, but it would also displace the law of sovereign immunities of the Member States and, in effect, engage into a process of harmonisation for which its competence is doubtful.

Conceptually Different Questions Need Not Receive the Same Answer

The second reason why the international law of sovereign immunities should not influence the interpretation of the European law of jurisdiction is that sovereign immunities and international jurisdiction are conceptually different questions. One is concerned with the power of the national courts to entertain actions against foreign states. The other is concerned with the allocation of international cases as between the courts of different states based on the subject matter of the dispute and the connections of the parties with the relevant states. A contractual case like the SHAPE case raises two separate questions. One is whether an international organisation can be sued in the courts of the forum. Another is whether the relevant obligation of the contract was performed on the territory of the forum, or the organisation can be considered to be domiciled there.

This conceptual difference is better perceived in those states where immunities and jurisdiction are sanctioned by different rules.  This is the case, for instance, under French law. A court does not lack jurisdiction to entertain a claim against a foreign state enjoying an immunity, it lacks power. Lack of power may be raised at any point in the proceedings, while objections to jurisdiction must be raised in limine litis.

The Relevance of International law: SHAPE

The SHAPE Court might have wished to deviate from Rina and endorse a different analysis. The Court continued to apply the same test to define civil and commercial matters. However, it refrained from stating “within the meaning of international law“.

Indeed, it referred to, and partly repeated paragraph 58 of the Rina judgment (see above), but omitted those words.

60 So far as concerns, secondly, the immunity from jurisdiction of bodies governed by private law, the Court has held that it does not preclude the application of Regulation No 1215/2012, where the court seised finds that such bodies have not had recourse to public powers (see, to that effect, judgment of 7 May 2020, Rina, C‑641/18, EU:C:2020:349, paragraph 58).

The Court also underlined that immunities and international jurisdiction are two separate questions:

64 In this connection, as the Advocate General observed in point 67 of his Opinion, the mere fact that the national court has assumed international jurisdiction, in the light of the provisions of Regulation No 1215/2012, does not adversely affect the protection of immunity under international law invoked by the international organisation that is party to that dispute.

Let’s forget about international law when interpreting the concept of civil and commercial matters for the purposes of European procedural law.

Immunity from Enforcement

The issue raised in SHAPE was that of the immunity from enforcement of an international organisation. The creditors of the headquarters in Europe of NATO had attached monies on a bank account. The international organisation argued that the funds were covered by its immunity from enforcement, and that the action fell outside of the Brussels I bis Regulation.

The SHAPE Court replied without distinguishing between immunity from enforcement and immunity from jurisdiction. It seemingly considered that both raise the same issue with respect to the influence of sovereign immunities on the definition of civil and commercial matters.

Yet, there are important differences between the two types of immunities. For present purposes, the most important is that the purpose of each immunity is different. Immunity from enforcement does not prevent courts from deciding disputes, it prevents enforcement over assets. In SHAPE, the issue was whether the creditors of NATO could freeze its assets.  The question, therefore, was not whether the action on the merits could be entertained by the forum, but whether it could issue a provisional attachment. The CJEU has consistently held, however, that the question of whether provisional measures in general and provisional attachments in particular fall within the scope of the Brussels I bis Regulation is defined by the substantive rights that the the measures aim to protect (see, in particular, the De Cavel and Van Uden cases). In other words, provisional measures are transparent for defining the concept of civil and commercial matters. If this is the case, specific obstacles to carry out such measures must be irrelevant as well.

The only immunity which could be logically relevant for defining civil and commercial matters is immunity from jurisdiction. And even immunity from jurisdiction should not be.

All the recent studies I am aware of on the application in practice of the EU private international law instruments claim that legal practitioners are not aware of the regulations/directives, or do not know how to apply them. They conclude there is a need for training.

Having been a University professor for now some years, my first spontaneous reaction to such assertion is always inward-looking: we (lecturers, professors) are being told that what is done at the Universities is not enough. Indeed, it would be naïve to believe law schools alone produce PIL experts. However, I can’t help wondering where higher education stands in the Commission’s pursuit of the “correct and uniform application of EU law” which should “built mutual trust in cross-border judicial proceedings, thus helping to develop the EU area of justice”.

The quotes belong to the Communication from the Commission to the European Parliament, the Council, the European Economic and Social Committee and the Committee of the Regions Ensuring justice in the EU — a European judicial training strategy for 2021-2024, published in December 2020, which explains the focus and scope of training in EU law for the years to come: the rule of law (upholding fundamental rights), upscaling the digitalisation of justice (prepare justice professionals to embrace digitalisation and the use of artificial intelligence ), keeping pace with developing EU law. A strategy addressed to judges, but this time also to other stakeholders: mediators, legal interpreters and translators, court experts, court staff, lawyers, even probation officers.

Higher education is not mentioned once. It does not necessarily mean that the Commission has not it in mind. Surely there are other initiatives one could find digging further. And then, most probably there are also issues of competence; the responsibility of educating future professionals lies primarily with the Member States (which is why the Bologna process will, in my view, never achieve its ultimate goal).

Be it as it may: for PIL fans in general (ie., beyond the University crowd) there is in the Communication a further fact to worry about. Cross-border cooperation is expressly mentioned and reference made to key EU instruments for cross-border judicial cooperation, at p. 3:

European judicial training should enable justice practitioners to see the role of EU law in their daily practice, give it full effect and secure the respect of rights and obligations stemming from EU law in national judicial proceedings. It is also important that they keep up to date with the development of EU law. Any new legislation and CJEU case-law developments necessitate training if they are to have the intended effects and justice professionals are to have the requisite knowledge and skills. In particular, this applies to the key EU instruments for cross-border judicial cooperation.

Great, except that thereafter only cross-border cooperation in criminal matters is referred to.

Has the Commission forgotten judicial training regarding the EU regulations in civil and commercial matters? What does this absence entail in terms of funding of training activities?

A look into the website of the European Judicial Training Network shows how little place is left for European private international law and procedural law. Until June there is no activity planned on any of our core topics. In June, there will be a seminar on “Cross-border civil cases” (program not available yet; which kind of cases are meant is therefore not clear); and another one entitled “Jurisdiction, recognition, enforcement of judgments and determination of the applicable law under Regulation 1215/2012 (sic). The new Insolvency Regulation 848/2015”. Nothing else afterwards.

Of course, the EJTN is not the only training service provider. Three other well-known ones are the Academy of European Law (ERA), the European Institute of Public Administration (EIPA), and the European University Institute (EUI). In addition, the Justice Programme of the European Union supports as well national projects, such as FRICoRE. It may be that one or some of those offer seminars covering cross-border cooperation in civil and commercial matters. After consulting the program at the ERA until June, I am not too optimistic, though: there are many interesting activities, but only two relate directly to “our” topics.

In addition, I am not sure about what it means to be a “service provider”, in terms of how much of the training is publicly funded and how much attendants have to pay themselves; if I am not wrong, the seminars and workshops of the EJTN are for free, while the rest are not. On the side of the training experts there is probably not much difference: at least in our field colleagues are called to teach both by the EJTN and by the other providers; hence the quality of the training should be the same. But access to training is definitely not.

The European judicial training strategy of the Commission for the years to come foresees as well the launch of the European Training Platform (ETP), defined as “a search tool put at the service of legal practitioners and justice professionals who want to train themselves on any practice area of EU law or related matters”. It is too early to have an opinion on the platform. However, as of today, it is not a promise of open-access, neither to the courses nor to the materials. According to the information on the website, “The training providers inform potential trainees about the training activities they organise everywhere in the EU and in different languages.” So, at first sight the ETP will just be a repository of activities planned and undertaken by the four institutions indicated above. Not much of a step further regarding access to training.

On a less pessimistic note, it is true that the message goes on saying “The European Commission contributes to the platform with ready-to-use training materials or handbooks produced notably thanks to EU financial support”. And later in the webpage one can read “You will find many training courses on EU law advertised on the European Training Platform as well as training material for self-learning”. Maybe this means that training packages and publications will at some point be available to all stakeholders as in a public library. To be seen but… let’s hope.

For the first time since the entry into force of the 1968 Brussels Convention and the EU Regulations in the field of judicial cooperation in civil matters, the Greek Supreme Court was called recently to examine an application for recognition and enforcement of an English order awarding alimony to a wife, while at the same time regulating property issues between the spouses.

On 12 June 2020, the Supreme Court [Nr. 662/2020] ordered the reversal of the appellate judgment [Athens Court of Appeal 4789/2018, unreported], which in turn had rejected the husband’s appeal against the first instance decision granting the recognition and declaration of enforceability of the English order [Athens court of 1st Instance 420/2015, unreported].

The Ruling of the Supreme Court

The case at hand concerned an order of the Family Division of the High Court, which was issued upon the request of the wife in the course of divorce proceedings. In particular, the wife requested that she retain the ownership of the family house in London, and that she be granted the amount of ₤ 600.000 as a capitalised maintenance payment, plus 100% of the interests from a Merchant Investors assurance program, whereas the husband would retain the ownership of eight parcels of land in Greece.

The English court granted the request. The judge ruled as follows:

I consider that the wife’s need could be met by an even distribution of the assets listed in the KT list [i.e. the list prepared by the wife’s lawyer] and I therefore intend to issue a financial provision order in the form of a lump sum of 600,000 ₤ payable to the wife…  I am satisfied that the order I issue achieves the purpose of a fair distribution of assets between the parties.

The order to pay the lump sum raised an interesting issue of characterisation with far reaching consequences. It could either be regarded as a maintenance payment, or as distribution of the assets of the spouses, and thus related to their matrimonial property regime.

One of the consequences of the distinction is that separate legal regimes govern the enforcement of maintenance and matrimonial property judgments. Two different regulations apply: either the Maintenance Regulation, which provides for immediate enforcement (abolition of exequatur: Articles 17 et seq.), or the Matrimonial Property Regulation which has retained the ‘traditional’ requirement of a declaration of enforceability (Articles 36 et seq.). In this case, the application was filed prior to the entry into force of both regulations, but separate regimes already applied to each category. The Brussels I Regulation applied to maintenance, resulting in the simplified procedure of articles 38 et seq. Matrimonial property fell outside of the EU framework, and was thus governed by the common law of foreign judgments of the Member States (in Greece, Articles 323 & 905 of the Code of Civil Procedure), i.e. a more conservative regime, which, in addition to the international jurisdiction barrier (Article 323 No. 2), has a different starting point, as it is not bound by the famous principle of mutual trust and free movement of judicial decisions between EU Member States.

The Greek Supreme Court made the following characterisation:

The award of this lump sum does not have a supportive purpose; it does not seek to meet the basic needs of the applicant, so as to be considered a maintenance claim, but has a rather redistributive-compensatory purpose, leading to the distribution of assets between the spouses, as expressly stated in the reasoning of the foreign order.

In view of the above, the Supreme Court ruled that the dispute fell outside the scope of the Brussels I Regulation, pursuant to the exception under article 1 (2) (a) [rights in property arising out of a matrimonial relationship]. It allowed the appeal, and referred the case for retrial to the appellate court.

The Supreme court cited in support of its decision three judgments of the European Court of Justice, C-143/78, De Cavel, C-25/81, C.H.W. and C- 220/95, van den Boogaard. In van den Boogaard, the ECJ ruled:

a decision rendered in divorce proceedings ordering payment of a lump sum and transfer of ownership in certain property by one party to his or her former spouse must be regarded as relating to maintenance and therefore as falling within the scope of the Brussels Convention if its purpose is to ensure the former spouse’s maintenance.

Courts and scholars in other Member States have already  pointed out that the van den Boogaard ruling did not resolve the issue entirely, granting a margin of discretion to national judges.

Comparative Overview

A search of similar situations and their treatment by national courts of other Member States leads us to a ruling of the German Supreme Court from 2009 [BGH 12.08.2009, NJW-RR 2010, pp. 1 f = IPRax 2011, pp. 187 f]. Confronted with similar facts, the Bundesgerichtshof opted for a solution akin to the Judgment of Solomon: departing from the characterization of the case, it accentuated the dual function of the provision [Doppelfunktionalität der Vorschrift], and granted the request for recognition and declaration of enforceability of the part demonstrating qualitative features of a maintenance claim. Respectively, for the remaining part of the order, it proceeded in the fashion chosen by the Greek Supreme Court.

On the other hand, English scholarship tends to include similar cases under the category of maintenance claims, drawing an additional argument from Annexes I-IV of Reg. 4/2009, while at the same time taking into account the case law of the CJEU, and the possibility of separation, as opted by the German Supreme Court.

In a recent decision, the Swiss Court of Cassation overturned a decision which ruled that the Lugano Convention did not apply to an English Financial Remedy Order, and referred the case to the Zurich Supreme Court for resolving the crucial issue of distinction between maintenance and matrimonial property disputes. A comment on the ruling is available here

The Impact of the Ruling

The withdrawal of the United Kingdom from the EU does not undermine the importance of the Greek Supreme Court ruling for the future. The intentions of the English legislator are not yet revealed. As  is already widely known, a primary indication does not exist, given that the field of judicial cooperation in civil and commercial matters has been left outside the Agreement. The expected accession of the UK to the Lugano Convention has been recorded ad calendas Graecas. However, a specific instrument will continue to govern the enforcement of maintenance judgments. The Convention of 23 November 2007 on the International Recovery of Child Support and Other Forms of Family Maintenance will substitute EU law in the relations between the UK and Greece. A change of course by the Greek Supreme Court is highly unlikely, however, and financial provision orders will be subject to domestic rules of recognition and enforcement.

It should also be underscored that the issue is not unique to the United Kingdom. Similar systems are to be found in the legislation of other Member States [e.g. the Republic of Ireland, and partly France]. Therefore, fresh applications are not to be ruled out. Prospective applicants are however advised to prepare the file more diligently: English orders are issued on the basis of a judgment. It is therefore considered necessary to produce a translated true copy of the foreign judgment, so that the judge is able to understand the peculiarities of the foreign system, and to decide upon having seen the whole picture in advance.

As reported in other blogs (see for instance here and here), the Trade and Cooperation Agreement that the EU and the UK managed to conclude right before the end of the Brexit transition period does not seem to make any provision for judicial cooperation in civil matters.

On the European side, the Notice to Stakeholders issued by the European Commission in August 2020 already took lack of agreement in this area for granted.

Surprisingly, the press release of the Commission of 24 December 2020, under the heading “A new partnership for our citizens’ security”, states

The Trade and Cooperation Agreement establishes a new framework for law enforcement and judicial cooperation in criminal and civil law matters. (italics added)

And to top it all, have a look a recital 47 of the Recast Service Regulation:

In accordance with Article 3 and Article 4a(1) of Protocol No 21 on the position of the United Kingdom and Ireland in respect of the area of freedom, security and justice, annexed to the Treaty on European Union and to the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union, the United Kingdom and Ireland have notified their wish to take part in the adoption and application of this Regulation.

Probably just a clerical mistake.

On the UK side, the gov.uk website on Brexit was updated on 31 December 2020 (see here), providing information on the rules applicable to cross border cases in civil and commercial matters involving the courts of England and Wales. Links to all relevant Acts and Regulations are found there, too. For cross-border divorces, nothing has been added to the previous information, which already distinguished between proceedings initiated pre- and post-Brexit. The same applies to maintenance and disputes about parental responsibility.

The post below was written by Bernard Haftel, who is Professor of Private International Law at the University of Sorbonne Paris Nord.

This is the fifth contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the ruling of the Court of Justice in the case of Wikingerhof v. Booking.com. The previous posts were authored by Matthias Lehmann, Adrian Briggs, Gilles Cuniberti and Peter Mankowski

Readers are encouraged to share their views by making comments to the posts. Those wishing to submit longer contributions for publication are invited to get in touch with the managing editor of the blog, Pietro Franzina, at pietro.franzina@unicatt.it.


With the Wikingerhof ruling of 24 November 2020, the European Court of Justice once again returns to the seemingly endless question of the distinction between matters relating to contract and tort [1] within the meaning of Article 7 of the Brussels I bis Regulation and once again fails to provide a satisfactory solution.

As in the Brogsitter case, the present case dealt with an action between contracting parties based on the breach of rules which are considered, at least in domestic law, to belong to the law of torts. A German hotelier – the now famous Wikingerhof – decided to take action against the well known online platform Booking, established in the Netherlands, seeking an injunction prohibiting certain conducts provided for in Booking’s general terms and conditions. In particular, the plaintiff alleged that Booking had, without its consent, placed a reference to “preferential prices” or “discounted prices”, that it had been deprived of access to the contact information provided by its contracting partners via the platform and that it had made the hotel’s positioning dependent on a specifically high commission.

The difficulty inherent in classifying this type of situations, based on tort provisions but exercised between contracting parties [2], had been singularly aggravated by the famous Brogsitter judgment which had, in this respect, laid down the following rule: an action for liability based on tort rules in national law but brought between contracting parties is a matter of contract “where the conduct complained of may be considered a breach of the terms of the contract, which may be established by taking into account the purpose of the contract”.

Case law subsequent to the Brogsitter judgment had in fact reflected this, in particular with regard to the thorny question of liability actions for termination of established commercial relations, especially when base on French law (former Article 442-6, I, 5° now Article 442-1, II of the French Code de commerce).

Yet, in every respect, even if nothing expressly indicates it, the Wikingerhof judgment constitutes a complete reversal of the Brogsitter judgment (I), reintroducing, in a questionable manner, the distributive approach of the Kalfélis judgment (II) and substituting a new criterion, loosely based on previous case law (III) and consequently raising the question of the durability of certain recent solutions (IV).

I. A Discreet Turnaround

Even if at no time does the Court say so and even if, in his opinion, Advocate General Saugmadsgaard Øe cleverly tries to claim the contrary, the Wikingerhof judgment is a pure and simple repudiation of the Brogsitter case law.

In this respect, the judgment is particularly laconic, which is in stark contrast to the Advocate General’s opinion, simply stating that an action falls within the scope of the matters relating to a contract within the meaning of point 1 of Article 7 “if the interpretation of the contract between the defendant and the applicant appears indispensable to establish the lawful or, on the contrary, unlawful nature of the conduct complained of against the former by the latter” (para. 32), thus taking up a passage along these lines from the Brogsitter judgment (para. 25), and specifying that if the contrary is the case, if it is not necessary to examine the content of the contract, then the action will belong to the matters relating to tort, delict or quasi-delict within the meaning of point 2 of Article 7 (para. 33).

This presentation must be read in the light of Mr Saugmadsgaard Øe’s opinion, which refers to and distinguishes between two possible interpretations of the Brogsitter judgment. According to a first approach, which he calls “maximalist”, a claim would fall within the scope of contractual matters “if the conduct complained of may be considered a breach of the terms of the contract” (para. 69), whereas, according to a “minimalist” interpretation, a claim would fall within the scope of contractual matters when “the interpretation of the contract between the defendant and the applicant appears indispensable to establish the lawful or, on the contrary, unlawful nature of the conduct complained of against the former by the latter” (para. 70).

It was this second – minimalist – approach that was advocated by the Advocate General and which was adopted by the Court, thus repudiating the maximalist reading.

However, it will not escape anyone’s notice that the quotation illustrating the so-called maximalist reading is in fact the actual operative part of the Brogsitter judgment. Despite the ingenuity of the Advocate General’s approach, it is quite clear that by repudiating the so-called maximalist reading, the Court of Justice has here made a complete reversal, abandoning the contribution of the Brogsitter Case.

There is a notable difference here with the French Cour de Cassation, which is more and more frequently staging its reversals of case law [3], where, out of loyalty to its predecessors or perhaps out of humility, the judges of the Court of Justice never actually say that they are making a case law reversal.

The judgment thus reverts to a distributive logic, typical of the Kalfelis judgment: actions between contractors will be either tortious or contractual, depending on the rules on which they are based.

II. The Principle of a Distributive Approach

Whereas the Brogsitter judgment largely implied an absorption of the tort by the contractual part, i.e. a submission of all actions between contracting parties to the forum of the contract as soon as the conduct complained of could be regarded as a breach of contractual obligations, the present judgment focuses essentially on the nature of the rules on which the application is based, which has three damaging consequences.

Firstly, a dispersal of the dispute. It will often happen that the same contractual dispute will give rise to both tort and contract aspects, especially when the applicable laws will, like English and German law, leave the plaintiff an option in this respect. In such cases, the two aspects of the dispute, which are like two sides of the same coin, will be dealt with by two different courts. It might be tempting to object that Article 4 remains available in this case and allows the entire dispute to be referred to the judge of the defendant’s domicile, but this option is left to the plaintiff’s discretion, which brings us to the second difficulty.

The solution then aggravates the procedural imbalance between the parties. By multiplying the number of judges likely to be competent, here according to the basis of the claim, we multiply the power of the one who has, in practice, control of the option: the plaintiff. This inequality is in itself an anomaly in a trial which is normally based on the principle of equality of arms, and the Advocate General cannot agree with him when he considers that forum shopping is not in itself a problem and only becomes so in the event of abuse (para. 86 et seq.). In our view, Forum shopping, which benefits only one of the parties, is always, inherently bad.

Finally, the solution becomes truly impracticable when the resolution of the dispute depends on both tort and contractual aspects. Let us take the example of an action brought on the basis of a tort but which comes up against the principle of non-cumul [4]. In such a case, the court hearing only the tort aspect will either have to disregard the contractual aspects for which it has no jurisdiction and therefore give an inappropriate decision, or take them into account in dismissing the tort action but not rule on the contractual aspect.

This second solution, advocated by the Advocate General (para. 88), is not more convincing. It must be understood that the court would then have to consider the contractual aspect in its entirety, and thus determine the content of the contract, the extent of the obligations imposed by the stipulations and by the law applicable to it and the position of that law as regards the option or non-cumul question, but could only draw the consequence, in the event of non-cumul, of dismissing the action based on tort and would be obliged to refer the resolution of the contractual aspect to the forum of the contract. Such a solution would be, at the very least, a very poor administration of justice and a great waste of time and, at worst, a source of major inconsistencies. It is enough to imagine that the two successive judges would adopt different positions as to the law applicable to the question of cumulative liability.

It is therefore in many respects unfortunate that the European Court of Justice has decided to return to the distributive approach of the Kalfelis case law.

However, contrary to what the Kalfelis judgment might have suggested, it is not the classification in national law that will determine the nature of the tort or contract, but an autonomous classification and for the purposes of the Regulation, which presupposes a criterion.

However, in this respect, the desire to maintain the appearance of continuity with the Brogsitter case law leads the Court to endorse a largely flawed criterion.

III. The Chosen Criterion

The concern to maintain the illusion of continuity in the case law, and in particular continuity with the Brogsitter judgment, led the Court to uphold what was probably the most questionable point in that decision: the “test” which, in the logic of that judgment, was to determine “where the conduct complained of may be considered a breach of the terms of the contract”. In order to determine whether this is the case, the Brogsitter judgment advocated checking wether “the interpretation of the contract which links the defendant to the applicant is indispensable to establish the lawful or, on the contrary, unlawful nature of the conduct complained of against the former by the latter ” (paras 24 and 25).

This test is particularly questionable because it is completely incapable of taking account of the subtle interweaving of legal rules and contractual provisions, it being furthermore recalled that, as the Advocate General observes, the methods of coordination of the two orders of liability vary from one country to another (paras 55 and 56).

Indeed, the effect of a contract is always to alter the pre-existing legal order, in particular by making unlawful what would have been lawful in the absence of the contract or by making lawful what would have been unlawful in the absence of the contract. Thus, even where the action will be based on an extra-contractual provision in domestic law, it will often be necessary to interpret the contract in order to determine whether or not the conduct complained of was lawful. An example of this is an action brought by the holder of intellectual property rights against his licensee for exceeding the rights granted. The interpretation of the contract is necessary to determine whether or not the rights granted have been exceeded. However, assuming that the rights have been exceeded, illegality would arise from the rules governing the author’s monopoly, in the same way as if there were no contract at all. In this respect, the objections proposed by Mr. Saugmadsgaard Øe, who takes the view that the criterion involving the interpretation of the contract would apply only to the claim and not to any defences, are not really convincing (paras 105 et seq.).

All in all, the other criterion mentioned by the Advocate General, distinguishing between, on the one hand, “the stipulations of a contract and/or rules of law which are applicable because of that contract” and, on the other hand, “rules of law which impose a duty on everyone, independently of any voluntary commitment”, would have seemed infinitely more accurate and more practicable to us.

It corresponds to the idea of “plus contractuel” [5], perfectly expressed by Lord Goff, according to which “the law of tort is the general law, out of which the parties can, if they wish, contract” [6].

It is an approach of this kind that should undoubtedly prevail in matters of conflict of laws, for the application of the Rome I and Rome II Regulations [7].

However, in matters of jurisdiction, the question arises in a different way. The question of jurisdiction often arises at the beginning of the dispute, at a time that necessarily calls for simplicity. In French law, moreover, the question arises concretely in a phase with a single judge – the juge de la mise en état – and it is in this respect necessary to simplify as much as possible the treatment of questions of qualifications. For this reason, as explained above, it is preferable to adopt a global and non-distributive approach, contrary to what might be done for the conflict of laws [8].

IV. The Survival of Intermediate Case Law

This change of course raises a question of scope, in terms of the solutions adopted since the Brogsitter judgment and, at least in part, based on them.

In particular, the European Court of Justice held in a Granarolo case that an action for the termination of commercial relations must be classified as contractual where there is a “tacit contractual relationship” (whatever that is) between the parties. Following the new logic of the Wikingerhof judgment, such a solution could probably not be renewed. In fact, the conduct complained of – i.e. the termination of established commercial relations – is sanctioned by the former Article L. 441-6, I, 5° (now L. 442-1, II) of the French Commercial Code whether or not there is a framework contract binding the parties. This is even its main interest. It is therefore a rule “which imposes a duty on everyone, independently of any voluntary commitment” and, obviously, since it is a mandatory legal obligation, the lawful or unlawful nature of the conduct complained of does not in any way imply an interpretation of the contract which may bind the parties.

This remark reflects on many other hypotheses and in particular the “pratiques restrictives de concurrence” (restrictive practices of competition) which appear in Articles L. 442-1 et seq. of the Commercial Code and similar provisions in other legal systems.

In all these cases, such practices are prohibited in any event, whether or not there is a contract between the parties. In fact, the prohibition of “subjecting or attempting to subject the other party to obligations creating a significant imbalance in the rights and obligations of the parties” in Article L. 442-1, I, 2° of the Commercial Code is very similar to the abuse of a dominant position under German law at issue in the commented judgment.

Is it to be inferred from this that, henceforth, all actions based on restrictive practices of competition would necessarily fall within the scope of tort, even between contractors?

And what about actions relating to these unbalanced clauses and seeking their annulment? In the area of conflict of laws, the European Court of Justice has ruled that the assessment of the lawfulness of contractual terms is a matter for the Rome I Regulation, even where the action is brought by a third party to the contract, in this case a consumer protection body. Is this solution obsolete?

Or should a distinction be drawn according to the purpose pursued by the action, holding that an action seeking to have a contractual stipulation declared null and void would be contractual in nature, even where that nullity results from a rule of conduct binding on everyone?

If so, in the event of an action seeking to challenge a clause that is unbalanced, there would then be two competent judges: the forum of the tort for the action for liability stricto sensu and the action for an injunction and the forum of the contract for the annulment, which would add to the dispersion of the litigation.

The judgment provides few answers to all these questions. More than ever, it would be necessary for the Court of Justice to take a higher view and to consider all the solutions that it infers from the qualifications it adopts as a whole.

 

[1] On this matter, see in particular V. Heuzé, “De quelques infirmités congénitales du droit uniforme: l’exemple de l’article 5. 1 de la Convention de Bruxelles du 27 septembre 1968”, Rev. crit. DIP 2000, p. 589 s., M.-E. Ancel, P. Deumier, M. Laazouzi, Droit des contrats internationaux, 2nd ed., 2019, § 106 et s. ; H. Gaudemet-Tallon, M.-E. Ancel, Compétence et exécution des jugements en Europe, 6th ed., 2018, § 186 et seq.; J.-S. Queginer, Le juge du contrat dans l’espace judiciaire européen – Qualification et détermination d’une compétence spéciale, th. Lyon 3, 2012; M. Minois, Recherche sur la qualification en droit international privé des obligations, LGDJ, 2020.

[2] On which see, in particular, S. Bollée, “La responsabilité extracontractuelle du cocontractant en droit international privé », in Mélanges en l’honneur du Professeur Bernard Audit, LGDJ, 2014, p. 119.

[3] For a recent and very clear example, see Cass. civ., 1st, 18 déc. 2019, n° 18-12.327 and n° 18-11.815, D. 2020. 426, note S. Paricard ; ibid. 506, obs. M. Douchy-Oudot; ibid. 843, obs. Régine; AJ fam. 2020.131; ibid. 9, obs. A. Dionisi-Peyrusse ; RTD civ. 2020. 81, obs. A.-M. Leroyer; Dr. fam. 2020, comm. 39, note J.-R. Binet; adde. S. Bollée, B. Haftel, “L’art d’être inconstant – Regards sur les récents développements de la jurisprudence en matière de gestation pour autrui”, Rev. crit. DIP 2020.267.

[4] In some systems, such as French law, where the same fact can theoretically constitute both a tort and a breach of contract, the plaintiff has no choice and can only act on the contractual ground, which is generally referred to as the principle of non-cumul.

[5] J. Huet, Responsabilité délictuelle et responsabilité contractuelle. Essai de délimitation entre les deux ordres de responsabilités, th. Paris II, 1978, especially n° 672; see also B. Haftel, La notion de matière contractuelle en droit international privé – Etude dans le domaine du conflit de lois, th. Paris II, 2008, especially. n° 618 et s.

[6] Henderson v. Merrett Syndicates [1994] 3 All ER 506 [532].

[7] See B. Haftel, op. cit.

[8] On the idea of an independence between the qualifications adopted in the field of jurisdiction and the one to be adopted in the field of conflict of laws, see B. Haftel, “Entre ‘Rome II’ et ‘Bruxelles I’: l’interprétation communautaire uniforme du règlement ‘Rome I'”, JDI 2010, no 3, doctr. 11, and, for the opposite view, see T. Azzi, “Bruxelles I, Rome I, Rome II: regard sur la qualification en droit international privé communautaire”, D. 2009, p. 1621.

The author of this post is Michiel Poesen, PhD candidate at KU Leuven.


This post tells a short story about the fate of European private international law’s neutrality paradigm… Our story starts where you probably would not expect it: the 2019 Belgian company law reform.

In 2019, the Belgian legislature reformed the Company Law Code in a bid to attract more investors to Belgium. (For the record, the previous government also launched the idea of offering businesses an interesting venue for transnational litigation–the Brussels International Business Court or BIBC, which did not make it through).

One of the reform’s key elements was to make company law leaner and more flexible. Facilitating this flexibilisation, the legislature also revised the Belgian private international law provisions pertaining to company law. In sympathy with the well-known CJEU case law on the freedom of establishment in the EU, the legislature traded the seat principle for the incorporation principle as the connecting factor for the law applicable to and adjudicatory jurisdiction over companies (Articles 109–110 Code of Private International Law; Article 111 contains a list of legal questions governed by the lex societatis).

Clearly, the incorporation principle gives up on the traditional idea that the connecting factor for companies should be based on a physical element such as the presence of a company’s place of administration (see R Michaels, ‘Globalizing Savigny? The State in Savigny’s Private International Law and the Challenge from Europeanization and Globalization’ in M Stolleis & W Streeck (eds), Aktuelle Fragen zu politischer und rechtlicher Steuerung im Kontext der Globalisierung (Nomos 2007) 142).

Interestingly, the statute provides for one carve-out concerning adjudicatory jurisdiction (I should thank Professor Joeri Vananroye and Professor Stijn De Dier for bringing it to my attention). Claims relating to the personal liability of directors towards third parties can be brought in the Belgian courts if the company has its ‘main establishment’ in Belgium and has a merely formal connection the state where it is incorporated:

… the Belgian courts have jurisdiction over actions concerning the liability of directors of corporations resulting from Article 2:56, §1, of the Corporations and Associations Code towards third parties other than the corporation that arose out of acts committed in the performance of their administrative function, provided that the main establishment of the legal person is in Belgium, while the legal person is incorporated outside if the European Union [or indeed an EFTA state that ratified the Lugano II Convention] and has a merely formal connection to that state [Translation by the author, the authentic text is available in Dutch and French in the Belgian state gazette].

The main establishment ‘is determined by taking into account primarily the place of administration, as well as the centre of its business and activities, and in subsidiary order the statutory seat’ (Article 4, §3 Code of Private International Law, available in English here – although not yet reflecting the 2018 overhaul). This, in fact, is a special tort jurisdiction rule that seeks to shield Belgian residents from companies who operate in Belgium but are incorporated outside of the EU (e.g. for fiscal or organisational purposes).

The Belgian legislature enacted this provision to strike a balance between a company’s freedom to choose the forum pursuant to the incorporation principle and the protection of general interests in Belgium, such as environmental protection or the fight against tax fraud (see here, at 144–145).

Private international lawyers will be interested to know that finding the physical ‘seat’ (Sitz in classical Savignyan terms) of the tortious relationship between a director and a third party, however, was not part of the legislature’s motives. This is quite interesting. For it demonstrates how the legislature sought to balance material interests through the law of conflict of jurisdictions (see Michaels, supra, 140–141).

Hence, the legislature was not enticed by European private international law’s traditional focus on finding the legal relationship’s geographical connection (which one American realist provocatively called ‘transcendental nonsense’ long before the Belgian company law reform; FS Cohen, ‘Transcendental Nonsense and the Functional Approach’ (1935) 35 Columbia Law Review 811).

The post below was written by Peter Mankowski, who is Professor of Private International Law at the University of Hamburg. Apart from one section, the post is based on the author’s German-language case note in the Lindenmaier Möhring Kommentierte BGH-Rechtspechung. The translation into English was permitted courtesy of C.H. Beck Verlag, München.

This is the fourth contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the ruling of the Court of Justice in the case of Wikingerhof v. Booking.com. The previous posts, authored by Matthias Lehmann, Adrian Briggs and Gilles Cuniberti, can be found here, here and here

Readers are encouraged to share their views by making comments to the posts. Those wishing to submit longer contributions for publication are invited to get in touch with the managing editor of the blog, Pietro Franzina, at pietro.franzina@unicatt.it.


Problem Description

The boundary between contract and tort, between Article 7 pts. (1) and (2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation, has been a mine-field for years.

The CJEU has continued to defer it to the detriment of tort and to the benefit of contract (see paradigmatically Brogsitter, paras 24-27, and flightright, paras 59-64; cf. also Holterman Ferho, paras. 70-71, and Feniks, paras 40-49). This generates enormous uncertainty (see only Baumert, EWiR 2014, 435; Slonina, ecolex 2014, 790; Wendenburg/Maximilian Schneider, NJW 2014, 1633; Dornis, GPR 2014, 352; Brosch, ÖJZ 2015, 958; Wendelstein, ZEuP 2015, 624; Reydellet, RLDA 111 [2016], 33; Pfeiffer, IPRax 2016, 111).

According to the CJEU, for a matter to be contractual, it is sufficient that there has been a breach of contractual obligations because it appears essential for the interpretation of the contract to determine whether the conduct at issue in the main proceedings is lawful or unlawful (Brogsitter, paras 24-27).

The national courts struggle with this and in some cases even make express ‘Brogsitter reservations’ (see in particular OGH ÖJZ 2015, 1051 with note Brenn; discussed by Mankowski, EuZA 2016, 368). By submitting its reference, the German Bundesgerichtshof (GRUR 2019, 320 — booking.com) sought certainty and a general decision from the CJEU on how far the CJEU intends to stick to Brogsitter (Mankowski, EWiR 2019, 157, 158). The CJEU has acknowledged and recognised that the concrete reference for a preliminary ruling in Wikingerhof is important in terms of legal policy, as is clearly evidenced by the fact that the Grand Chamber with the President and Vice-President of the CJEU decides, the fullest brass possible below the full plenum (the latter being reserved for rather constitutional matters).

Legal Assessment

Article 7 pt. (2) Brussels I bis Regulation refers to any action seeking to establish liability for damage on the part of the defendant and which does not relate to ‘matters relating to a contract’ within the meaning of Article 7 pt. (1) (Kalfelis, para. 18; Löber, para 19). An autonomous interpretation is required for both ‘contract’ and ‘tort’, which is more abstract from national understandings (paras 30 et seq.).

Both Article 7 pts. (1) and 2 are exceptions to the general jurisdiction of Article 4 Brussels I bis Regulation and are therefore to be interpreted strictly. According to Recital (16) of the Regulation, they are both justified from the point of view of particular proximity to the facts and evidence. An action therefore has as its object ‘matters relating to a contract’ within the meaning of Article 7 pt. (1) if an interpretation of the contract between the applicant and the defendant appears indispensable in order to determine whether the conduct alleged by the applicant against the defendant is lawful or, on the contrary, unlawful (Brogsitter, para. 25).

This is the case, inter alia, of an action based on the provisions of a contract or on legislation applicable under that contract (Holterman Ferho, para. 53, and Kareda, paras 30-33). On the other hand, where an applicant relies on the rules on liability in tort, delict or quasi-delict, that is to say, a breach of a legal obligation, and it does not appear necessary to examine the content of the contract concluded with the defendant in order to assess whether the conduct alleged against the defendant is lawful or unlawful, since that obligation on the defendant exists independently of that contract, an tort falls within the scope of the action within the meaning of Article 7 pt. (2).

In the present case, Wikingerhof relies on an infringement of German antitrust law, which generally prohibits the abuse of a dominant position irrespective of a contract or other voluntary commitment. More specifically, because of Booking.com’s strong position on the relevant market, Wikingerhof had no choice but to conclude the agreement at issue and to be subject to the effects of the subsequent amendments to Booking.com’s General Sales Conditions, even though some of Booking.com’s conduct was unfair.

The central legal question is therefore whether Booking.com has abused a dominant position for the purposes of antitrust law. In order to determine whether the practices alleged against Booking.com are lawful or unlawful under that competition law, it is not essential to interpret the contract between the parties to the main proceedings, since such an interpretation is, at most, necessary in order to establish the existence of those practices (para. 35).

It follows that, subject to verification by the referring court, the action brought by Wikingerhof, in so far as it is based on the statutory obligation not to abuse a dominant position, must be regarded as constituting a tort.

That is consistent with the objectives of proximity and the sound administration of justice pursued by the Brussels I bis Regulation. The court having jurisdiction under Article 7 pt. (2) — in cartel cases, that of the market affected by the alleged anti-competitive conduct — is best placed to rule on the main question of the merits of that allegation, in particular with regard to the collection and assessment of the relevant evidence (para 37 with reference to Tibor-Trans,  para. 34, and VKI v Volkswagen, para. 38).

Contract vs Tort in European International Procedural Law and Conflict of Laws

The CJEU is trying to engineer a cautious move away from Brogsitter without formally abandoning Brogsitter, and indeed by repeating the central statement from Brogsitter. In any event, for antitrust cases Brogsitter should not pass through.

In a very important situation, the CJEU restores its right to jurisdiction in tort. However, the gain in legal certainty is not as great as if a more general statement had been made. This is because the restriction to a specific situation still leaves the initial question open to all other situations. It may even induce the national courts to make even more complicated attempts to reveal, by comparison parallels or divergences with antitrust law for the situations to be assessed by each of them. AG Saugmandsgaard Øe had launched nothing less than a frontal full-force attack on Brogsitter or at least on a ‘maximalist’ reading of Brogsitter (Opinion of 10 September 2020, paras. 74-115).

Yet the CJEU has not endorsed this and has not distanced itself from Brogsitter at the general level. Wikingerhof does not overrule Brogsitter. It does not finally break with Brogsitter (Matthias Lehmann, Wikingerhof: CJEU Reestablishes Equilibrium between Contract and Tort Jurisdiction). It even cites with seeming approval to the Brogsitter formula – yet eventually opts for partially breaking free from that formula, namely for claims based in antitrust law. On the other hand, Wikingerhof does not firmly shut the door to future deviations from Brogsitter in other fields or in general.

In the age of private enforcement in particular, antitrust law is not a good ground for — as the CJEU is now trying to do — dissolving contract law in particular, but not in general.

Civil actions in the field of antitrust, especially since actions for damages or injunctions to use certain General Terms and Conditions will often come from suppliers or customers of the cartel participants or of the dominant enterprise. They therefore operate in the context of contractual relations. The cartel and abuse of power will be reflected in an arrangement of the contractual terms (service, consideration or conditions) favourable to the cartel or dominant undertaking. Antitrust induced nullity of the contract leads to more than one stage. The cartel or abuse of power becomes the background to the contract in question, and vice versa, it becomes almost a preliminary question of the cartel effect or abuse of power. It is therefore precisely in the case of cartels or abuse of power that contracts are the rule, not the exception (see to a similar avail Briggs, Wikingerhof: A View from Oxford).

However: Preliminary questions do not determine the classification of the main question. Nor do they do so with regard to the distinction between the contract and the tort for the main issue. There is no specific qualification for the main question (Pfeiffer, IPRax 2016, 111).

The CJEU’s departure from Brogsitter in antitrust law and the establishment of a tort/delict qualification could possibly give rise to an argumentum a maiore ad minus (tentatively in a similar direction the comment of Simon Horn to Matthias Lehmann’s post on this blog). If one is already moving in antitrust law with its relative proximity to the contract in tort law, it is necessary to move even more safely into tort law in the case of torts less close to the contractual realm.

However, this would be an attempt to assess parallels to, or divergences from, antitrust law by comparing them. Wikingerhof may indicate a reversal of the trend. The previously seemingly unstoppable rise of contract at the expense of tort/delict does not progress any further at least. However, a full reversal of the trend has not yet been completed, but rather requires further probation samples. But Wikingerhof might be some beginning. That tort regains some ground at the expense of contract is not akin to a catastrophe (but cf. Briggs, Wikingerhof: A View from Oxford), but a necessary correction of the previous over-stretching of ‘contract’ by Brogsitter.

If different, but concurring claims in contract and tort happen to exist, the best way to treat them might possibly be the introduction of annex competences rather than re-characterisation or deferring boundaries by characterisation.

Yet this enters another difficult field of striking balances of competing interests right (Mankowski, in: Ulrich Magnus/Mankowski, Brussels I-bis Regulation [2016] Art. 7 notes 34-35). Re-characterizing certain claims in tort as claims in contract if they can be said to be based on a breach of contractual obligations – in essence what Brogsitter boils down to –, and the result that two claims in contract compete would be not more than a bypassing escape strategy (Baumert, EWiR 2014, 435, 436; Kiener/Neumayr, ZFR 2015, 505, 506-507; Mankowski, in: Ulrich Magnus/Mankowski, Brussels I-bis Regulation [2016] Art. 7 note 35).

The CJEU’s Missing Look at the Conflict of Laws

Unfortunately, the CJEU in Wikingerhof completely fails to look at the sister area of conflict of laws as well. The mere existence of Article 6(3) Rome II Regulation and the clear attribution of private antitrust law to the unlawful acts in the realm of conflict of laws have provided very strong arguments for classifying private law specifically in tort/delict.

In that realm, Recitals (7) of the Rome I and Rome II Regulations require that the Brussels I bis Regulation be interpreted as well. Unfortunately, there is no parallel Recital in the Brussels I bis Regulation. At the occasion of the next recast, a future Brussels I ter Regulation should receive such a Recital in order to draw the current missing third line to the interpretation triangle with Rome I and Rome II and make the triangle so obvious that it can no longer be ignored by the CJEU.

Does an Overarching Notion of ‘Contract’ Exist under the Brussels I bis Regulation?

A major part of the discussion subsequent to Wikingerhof, in particular on Conflictoflaws.net, has focused on whether ‘contract’ has the same meaning throughout the entire Brussels I-bis Regulation, i.e. in essence, whether Wikingerhof gets also relevant for insurance, consumer or employment contracts; opinions are divided (see Lutzi, Briggs, Van Calster, Poesen, Álvarez-Armas ).

Undeniably, there is a certain tendency particularly in Králová, paras. 58-63, pointing towards the CJEU tentatively favouring different notions of ‘contract’ for the purposes of Article 7 pt. (1) Brussels I bis Regulation, on the one hand, and Article 17 of the same Regulation, on the other (a then isolated predecessor might be found in Ilsinger, paras 56-57). AG Saugmandsgaard Øe expressed such tendency even more clearly in Wikingerhof (Opinion of 10 September 2020, para. 113).

Furthermore, Brogsitter has some counterparts extending the domain of consumer contracts to claims which under national law might have their fundament in tort (see in particular BGH NJW 2011, 532; BGH NJW 2011, 2809; BGH IPRax 2013, 168, 171; BGH WM 2012, 646; BGH ZIP 2013, 93). Reliantco, decided after Králová, is the current highwater mark (see paras. 58-73). In the background informing Article 17(1) in general, the desire for adequate consumer protection – mandated by Art. 153 TFEU – is a strong and specific influence. Yet ‘contract’ should follow the same concept throughout which is essentially based on economic ideas and categories of voluntary or involuntary creditorship plus cooperating mechanisms and the meeting of the minds (in detail Mankowski, ‘Ein eigener Vertragsbegriff für das europäische Internationale Verbraucherprozessrecht?’, GPR 2021 sub III). ‘Consumer contract’ adds the B2C element to ‘contract’, but is nevertheless based on ‘contract’ (in detail Mankowski, ‘Ein eigener Vertragsbegriff für das europäische Internationale Verbraucherprozessrecht?’, GPR 2021 sub IV).

‘Hotels Can Sue in Germany’: Marketplace Court for Cartel Victims and Danger of Derogation

Broken down from the high and abstract plane to the small change: The poster titles on Wikingerhof in the relevant internet publications have the tenor ‘Hotels can sue in Germany’ (in particular LTO, 24 November 2020; Hamburger Abendblatt, 25 November 2020).

In fact, under Article 7 pt. (2) Brussels I bis Regulation, the Court of Justice of the European Union establishes a market jurisdiction for the victims of the cartel. However, there is no reason why it should apply only to certain sectors, or even only to hotels, and not to all sectors, as Article 7 pt. (2) does not differentiate anywhere according to bananas, nor does Article 6(3) Rome II Regulation in the conflict of laws.

However, the counter-reaction seems obvious for cartels and dominant companies if it has not been implemented proactively for a long time: in its own general terms and conditions for contracts with suppliers or customers, by means of a jurisdiction clause, the courts have exclusive jurisdiction in their own place of residence. This is because Article 7 pt. (2) Brussels I bis Regulation creates only a ground of special jurisdiction and not a ground of exclusive jurisdiction which would bar any derogation. Article 7 pt. (2) gives way to Art. 25 Brussels I bis Regulation, and the Brussels I bis Regulation does not provide protection against derogating choice of court agreements (on antitrust claims and jurisdiction agreements under Article 25 Brussels I bis Regulation / Article 23 Brussels I Regulation, see Cartel Damages Claims, and Apple Sales International; see also Mankowski, EWiR 2015, 687; id., TBH 2020, 45; Stammwitz, Internationale Zuständigkeit bei grenzüberschreitenden Kartelldelikten [2018] pp. 391-437; Pfeiffer, LMK 2018, 412366; C. Krüger/Seegers, WuW 2019, 170; Goffinet/R. Spangenberg, J. dr. eur. 2019, 199).

However, this is not yet the final step in the assessment. The market power of internet portals in particular is a well-known phenomenon and a significant problem. In turn, it has provoked a specific counter-reaction by the European legislator. This counter-reaction is the P2B Regulation, i.e. Regulation (EU) 2019/1150 on promoting fairness and transparency for business users of online intermediation services.

That said, the P2B Regulation only grants protection to business users by means of (unsystematic) individual standards (Nadine Schneider/Kremer, WRP 2020, 1128, 1129; Stefan Ernst, CR 2020, 735, 739), but not comprehensive. It requires transparency and mandatory content in general terms and conditions. On the other hand, it refers only exceptionally to orders for annulment in respect of general terms and conditions, in particular in Article 3(3) P2B Regulation. In particular, it does not lose any word on choice-of-court agreements. This fits with the general line that recent EU special acts for the online sector – e.g. the Geo-Blocking Regulation in its Article 1(6) – in principle respect the Brussels I bis Regulation (see e.g. Recital (9) P2B Regulation).

It is true that the P2B Regulation favours mediation as the preferred method of dispute resolution. However, Art. 12 (5) P2B Regulation expressly states that the P2B Regulation does not affect the enforcement of rights by way of court action. The Brussels I bis Regulation protects its species, namely Articles 15, 19 and 23. However, only typically weaker parties with derogation bans, but not business users within the meaning of the P2B Regulation and small enterprises such as the Wikingerhof Hotel.

The market-based jurisdiction under Article 7 pt. (2) Brussels I bis Regulation, which has now been confirmed by the Court of Justice of the European Union, thus enables cartel victims against foreign internet portals to form a forum actoris, a forum actoris at their own domicile, but is subject to a derogation. In the broad legal policy perspective, de regulatione ferenda it can be considered to include special protection standards for SMEs (small and medium-sized enterprises) in a future Brussels I ter Regulation, i.e. to treat C2SME contracts as a separate category.

This is, however, a new round of the game, to be played in the future, and would in any event be the subject of a major debate which will certainly feature fiercely competing lobbying interests, with an uncertain outcome as to the final result.

The post below, written by Gilles Cuniberti, a professor of Private International Law at the University of Luxembourg, and an editor of this blog, is the third contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the ruling of the Court of Justice in Wikingerhof v. Booking. The previous posts, authored by Matthias Lehmann and Adrian Briggs, can be found here and here.

Other contributions will follow, the next one being scheduled for later today. Readers are encouraged to share their views by making comments to the posts. Those wishing to submit longer contributions for publication are invited to get in touch with the managing editor of the blog, Pietro Franzina, at pietro.franzina@unicatt.it.


One of the novelties of Wikingerhof is the introduction of a new requirement for the application of the special jurisdictional rules laid down by Article 7(1) and (2) of Regulation No 1215/2012: the claimant’s choice to rely on one of those rules.

29 It must therefore be held that the applicability of either point 1 of Article 7 of Regulation No 1215/2012 or point 2 of Article 7 thereof depends, first, on the applicant’s choice whether or not to rely on one of those rules of special jurisdiction and, second, on the examination, by the court hearing the action, of the specific conditions laid down by those provisions.

This is because, the court explains, the scheme of Regulation No 1215/2012 ‘is characterised by the possibility which it confers on the applicant of relying on one of the rules of special jurisdiction laid down by that regulation’ (para. 27).

The purpose of this post is to explore the implications of this requirement.

Which Choice?

If the claimant is offered the possibility to choose, one would think that this is because he has an option. In the context of Article 7, this would seems to mean that courts having jurisdiction on the basis of Article 7(1) and courts having jurisdiction on the basis of Article 7(2) are simultaneously available.

This, however, is hard to conceive.

First, the court held that the rules on special jurisdiction laid down in  Article 7 of the Brussels I bis Reguation “are mutually exclusive in the application of that regulation” (para. 26). This seems to mean that the special rules in Article 7 cannot be applicable at the same time. If one rule is applicable, the application of the other is excluded.

Secondly, the second applicability requirement of the rules in Art 7(1) and (2) is that “the specific conditions lay down by these provisions” are ascertained by the relevant court. The conditions for each of the provisions turn around a single test, which is whether it is indispensable to examine the content of the contract in order to assess the lawfulness of the conduct of the defendant. If it is, Article 7(1) applies, and Article 7(2) does not. If it is not, Article 7(2) applies, and Art 7(1) does not.

So there is no option. The conditions of Article 7(1) or Art 7(2) cannot be met at the same time. Only one of these rules applies (at best).

So what does it mean that the claimant can choose to rely on one or the other?

Whose Choice?

What it could mean is that the claimant could choose an Article 7(1) forum over an Article 7(2) forum irrespective of the respective conditions of application of each of the provisions. In other words, the claimant could derogate from the conditions of applicability and choose one forum which would not have jurisdiction under Article 7.

This interpretation would be surprising, for a number of reasons.

First, as already underscored, the Wikingerhof court held that the second applicability requirement condition is that the court verifies that the conditions for the relevant jurisdictional rule are met. This suggests that it should not retain jurisdiction if these conditions are not met.

Second, while the parties may derogate from jurisdictional rules, this is only possible if both parties agree, whether expressly (choice of court agreement) or implicitly (submission to jurisdiction). There is no reason to favour the claimant in this respect. The Wikingerhof court explained that it is somehow relevant that Wikingerhof chose to rely on (national) tort rules. But why wouldn’t it be relevant that the defendant would choose to rely on (national) contractual defences? It does not seem that Booking did exactly that in that case, but not far: it relied on a choice of court agreement.

Conclusion: Second Order Characterisation

Finally, it is not quite clear why, after insisting that the concepts of ‘matters relating to a contract’ and ‘matters relating to tort’ should receive an autonomous interpretation, and repeating the European definitions of these concepts, the Wikingerhof court found it useful to underscore on which ground of national law the claimant would be seeking to establish liability.

Why should it matter if the conditions to meet are defined at European level? And how could it matter? Would this mean that Article 7(2) would only be available if the substantive claim was delictual in nature under the applicable national law? But, as far as substantive law is concerned, there is no freedom of choice between tort and contractual liability in all legal systems. In France and Luxembourg, there is no choice: contractual liability prevails and excludes tort liability when a given claim could fall within the scope of both kinds of liability.

Ultimately, one wonders whether the possibility of second order characterization was well perceived by the court. As the readers of this blog will know, it is common, and perfectly fine, to make one characterization for private international law purposes, and another for the purpose of applying substantive rules. In the context of the Brussels I bis Regulation, it is equally fine to characterize the claim for jurisdictional purposes pursuant to European concepts, and then to characterize the same claim differently for the purpose of applicable substantive rules.

The author of this post is Caterina Benini, a Phd student at the Catholic University of the Sacred Heart in Milan.


A Controversial but Topical Issue

In the credits market, the price of a contract (or that of the claims arising from a contract) is determined by the nominal value of the claims concerned and by the risks surrounding their enforcement, including the risks relating to the uncertainty that may exist as to the courts with jurisdiction to hear and enforce the contract or the claims concerned.

Ironically, uncertainty may be greater when the assigned contract includes a choice of court clause, as it is not clear whether, and subject to which conditions, such a clause may be binding upon the assignees.

The European Court of Justice considered the issue of the third-party effects of choice of court clauses in Tilly Russ, Coreck and Profit Investment.

However, it was only in Ryanair, a case decided on 18 November 2020, that the Court specifically analysed whether an assignee of a claim is bound by the choice of court clause included in the contract from which the assigned claim arose. The recent Court’s ruling raises a number of questions, some of which have already been pointed out by Matthias Lehmann in this blog.

One takeaway of Ryanair is that, in the absence of clear rules, the fate of choice of court agreements following the assignment of the contract which included them is a fertile ground for disputes. Instead of elaborating on the Court’s findings in Ryanair, I will focus on a recent ruling of the Italian Supreme Court (Corte di Cassazione), which addressed the consequences of an assignment of claim for the enforceability of a choice of court clause (Judgment No 7736/2020).

The Ruling of the Corte di Cassazione

The facts underlying the case decided by the Italian Supreme Court may be summarised as follows.

An Italian company (hereinafter, the manufacturer) and a Finnish company (the distributor) entered into various contracts. Each contract included a choice of court clause conferring exclusive jurisdiction upon the Tribunal of Torino. The Italian manufacturer assigned part of its claims under the contracts to a factoring company seated in Italy. Following the assignment, a dispute arose between the manufacturer (the assignor creditor) and the distributor (the assigned debtor). Upon an application by the former, the Tribunal of Torino ordered the Finnish distributor to pay a certain amount of money. The latter lodged an opposition, arguing that, as a result of the assignment of the claims, the Italian company was prevented from relying on the choice of court clause featured in the contracts.

Both the Tribunal of Torino and the Court of Appeal of Torino dismissed the move. The Finnish distributor brought the case before the Corte di Cassazione, which dismissed the appeal, ultimately upholding that Italian courts had jurisdiction to hear the case.

The Cassazione reached that conclusion on the ground that the effectiveness of a choice of court clause between the original parties to a contract giving rise to claims subsequently assigned should not be doubted. The Cassazione referred for this purpose to the case-law of the Court of Justice, noting that, according to Dansommer and Profit Investment, a choice of court agreement may be binding also upon the third party, thus impliedly submitting that this the assignment results in an extension of the subjective scope of the clause rather than a transferral of the same from one assignor to the assignee.

The Court added that the assignee, having taken over the position of the assignor vis-à-vis the assigned debtor, is bound by the choice of court agreement included in the contract giving rise the claim. This is because the position of the assigned debtor should remain unaltered also with regard to jurisdiction, if not otherwise provided by the assigned party himself and the assignee.

This Author’s Submission

If party autonomy is to be taken seriously, choice of court clauses, it is submitted, should be deemed to be subject to an independent regime, different from that governing the contract where the clause is featured.

This implies that, for the purposes of determining the fate of a choice of court clause following the assignment of the legal relationship to which the clause refers, or belongs, reference ought to be had to the substantive law applicable to the dispute resolution clause itself. It is on the basis of the latter law that one should assess whether the rights and obligations provided for under the choice of court clause passed on to the assignee.

No other approach, it is contended, would be consistent with Article 25(5) of the Brussels I bis Regulation. This provides that “[a]n agreement conferring jurisdiction which forms part of a contract shall be treated as an agreement independent of the other terms of the contract”, adding, in a separate subparagraph, that “[a]n agreement conferring jurisdiction which forms part of a contract shall be treated as an agreement independent of the other terms of the contract”.

Separability only for the Purposes of Validity vs. Separability Also for the Purposes of Transferability

The issue of the fate of a dispute resolution agreement following the circulation of the legal position to which the clause relates has been mainly discussed with respect to arbitration agreements. Although choice of court agreements cannot be equated to arbitration agreements, the terms of the problem roughly coincide.

Essentially, the discussion revolves around two opposite conceptions of the principle of severability.

The first interpretation posits that, while the dispute resolution clause is severable from the main contract for validity purposes, it should be considered as an integral part of the contract for transferability purposes. Hence, when the assignee becomes the holder of the rights and obligations that arise from the contract which includes the dispute resolution agreement, it becomes automatically bound by the latter as well.

The second approach views the severability principle as a mere façade of a broader principle, which requires to consider a dispute resolution agreement as a contract in its own right, independent in all aspects from the contract to which it refers. This means that, unless the parties agree otherwise, the dispute resolution agreement will not automatically circulate together with the contract as a result of the assignment.

Independence of Choice of Court Agreements as the Key Principle

Article 25(5) of the Brussels I bis Regulation fosters the second approach described above.

Indeed, if the principle of separability were to operate for validity purposes only, the EU legislator would have limited Article 25(5) to the first subparagraph, which enshrines the principle in its traditional meaning. The inclusion of a separate subparagraph specifying that a choice of court agreement shall be considered independently from the other terms of the contract suggests that, in the view of the legislator, the principle involves more than merely prescribing the survival of the dispute resolution clause in the event that the main contract is invalid. Rather, it is submitted, the whole of para 5 indicates that a choice of court clause should be considered, in all respects, to be independent from the agreement where it is featured.

The question then is: what does the independence of a choice of court clause precisely stand for?

Independence should not be taken as meaning that the choice of court agreement should be treated as something that is materially separate from the main contract.

Arguably, the independence of the clause means that the issues surrounding the clause rules are not (necessarily) to be decided in accordance with the rules that one would resort to for the purposes of deciding the same issues in respect of the main contract.

Such normative independence of choice of court clauses has already been recognized with respect to the formal validity, which has been consistently evaluated on the basis of the uniform material rules provided for by the Brussels Regime and not on the basis of the formal requirements governing the main contract.

The same approach should then be followed also for the fate of choice of court agreements. This means that the court seised of the matter should assess whether the assignee of the contract (or of the claims arising thereform) is bound by the choice of court agreement, based on the rules governing the transferability of the dispute resolution agreement itself.

If such solution were to be followed, it would entail a significant alignment with Castelletti, where the Court ruled that “the national court seised should be able readily to decide whether it has jurisdiction on the basis of the rules of the Convention, without having to consider the substance of the case” (para. 48). Indeed, the seised court may rule on its own jurisdiction without dwelling into the merits of the case only if the enforceability of the choice of court clause is subject to a different and autonomous from the one applicable to the substantive issues.

The Tilly Russ Case

The above analysis on the principle of separability of choice of court clauses can turn useful when the interpreter (as the Corte di Cassazione did) investigates whether the CJEU’s case-law developed in relation to the third-party effects of choice of court agreements can provide an answer to the issue of the fate of choice of court clauses.

In Tilly Russ, the Court of Justice ruled that the third party is bound by the jurisdiction clause incorporated in the main contract (a bill of lading in that case), which is valid as between the original parties, “in so far as a third party, by acquiring the bill of lading, has succeeded to the shipper’s rights and obligations under the relevant national law” (para. 24).

The meaning of this crucial passage of the Court’s reasoning is unclear. One may wonder whether the shipper’s rights and obligations in which the third party succeeds are those provided for under the main contract or the dispute resolution clause. The aspect has since never been clarified by the Court, although the Court did rely on the said passage in Coreck and Profit Investment.

According to the majority of scholars, the rights and obligations to which the Court referred are those arising from the main contract. This entails that, if the third party succeeds to the assignor’s rights and obligations under the main contract in accordance with the law applicable to the assignment, the third party is automatically bound by the choice of court agreement included in the main contract.

This conclusion contradicts the independence of choice of court agreements.

Independence requires that issues relating to a choice of court clause be solved on the basis of the rules governing the dispute resolution agreement itself, regardless of the rules governing the main contract. The vicissitudes of the main contract, including the assignment of the claims arising thereform, are not relevant per se to the dispute resolution clause.

In light of this, the passage in Tilly Russ recalled above should be interpreted as requiring the seised court to determine whether the third party, simultaneously or after entering into the main contract, “has succeeded to the shipper [assignor]’s rights and obligations [provided for under the jurisdiction clause] under the relevant national law [applicable to the jurisdiction clause]”.

The Law Applicable to a Choice of Court Agreements under the Italian PIL Statute

Which law applies to a dispute resolution clause?

Courts sitting in a Member State cannot rely on the Rome I Regulation, given that choice of court agreements are excluded from the scope of application of the Regulation under Article 1(2)(e). Accordingly, regard should be had to domestic conflict of laws rules.

In a case such as the one discussed by the Corte di Cassazione in the ruling mentioned above, the relevant provision would arguably be Article 57 of the Italian Statute of Private International Law. The rule, drawn up in 1995 (and never amended since) extends the operation of the 1980 Rome Convention on the law applicable to contractual obligations (the predecessor of the Rome I Regulation) to any contract, including those excluded from the scope of the Convention itself.

Assuming that the reference to the Convention should be read today as a reference to the Rome I Regulation, an Italian court would – in the absence of a choice of law – rely on Article 4(4) of the Rome I Regulation, and apply the law of the country with which the choice of court agreement is most closely connected.

The post below was written by Adrian Briggs QC, who is Professor of Private International Law at the University of Oxford. It is the second contribution to the EAPIL online symposium on the ruling of the Court of Justice in the case of Wikingerhof v. Booking (the first one, by Matthias Lehmann, appeared earlier today and can be found here).

Other contributions will follow in the coming days. Readers are encouraged to share their views by making comments to the posts. Those wishing to submit longer contributions for publication are invited to get in touch with the managing editor of the blog, Pietro Franzina, at pietro.franzina@unicatt.it.


The late, great, F A Mann was sometime heard to refer, in a wry way which one could never quite interpret, to ‘common law pragmatism’. It has served us well; and it provides a vantage point for an assessment of the decision in C-59/19 Wikingerhof GmbH & Co KG v Booking.com BV EU:C:2020:950. Those looking for theory will, no doubt, find it elsewhere. The observations sketched out below simply seek to explain why the decision of the Grand Chamber is, as a matter of practical law, a disaster.

Where a claim is raised between parties who have chosen to place themselves within the ties of a voluntary relationship, and something goes wrong, the claim which results may be seen as an incident of that relationship which should be subject to jurisdictional rules designed for disputes arising within that relationship. Though in the Brussels/Lugano context this is seen and understood most clearly in the context of insurance, and consumer and employment contracts, it was also understood, with brilliant clarity by Darmon A-G in 189/87 Kalfelis. Spurning his advice, the Court in that case preferred to describe a virtual line between claims treated as contractual and those allocated to the special jurisdiction for tort and delict. This might have meant that a non-contractual claim could, in principle at least, be raised between contracting parties; and the seeds of trouble were thereby sown. A narrow question mesmerised the English, argued endlessly about what to do about claims based on unjust enrichment; but the deeper question was when a claim based on an obligation owed by one contracting party to another might be held, for the purpose of special jurisdiction, not to be a matter relating to a contract. A serviceable answer, and perhaps the only sensible answer, was eventually given by the decision in C-548/12 Brogsitter, which in material part observed that

It is apparent from the order for reference that the parties to the main proceedings are bound by a contract. However, the mere fact that one contracting party brings a civil liability claim against the other is not sufficient to consider that the claim concerns ‘matters relating to a contract’ within the meaning of Article 5(1)(a) of Regulation No 44/2001. That is the case only where the conduct complained of may be considered a breach of contract, which may be established by taking into account the purpose of the contract. That will a priori be the case where the interpretation of the contract which links the defendant to the applicant is indispensable to establish the lawful or, on the contrary, unlawful nature of the conduct complained of against the former by the latter. It is therefore for the referring court to determine whether the purpose of the claims brought by the applicant in the case in the main proceedings is to seek damages, the legal basis for which can reasonably be regarded as a breach of the rights and obligations set out in the contract which binds the parties in the main proceedings, which would make its taking into account indispensable in deciding the action. (italics added)

In other words, if the substance of the complaint could be said to have broken the contract to which the parties had bound themselves, special jurisdiction in the matter was contractual. It was a clear rule even though, as it now seems, the casual, justificatory, reference to the contract as indispensable gave dissenters something to make mischief with. In the meantime, the Court in C-47/14 Holterman simply copied this part of Brogsitter into a judgment principally concerned to maintain the integrity of Section 5 of Title/Chapter II. As well it might: the opportunity for an unscrupulous employer to strip the employee of the protection provided to him by accusing him of being a tortfeasor/thief rather than a contract-breaker, all the while denying that the employment contract needed to be referred to for anything other than data, was plain and obvious and quite, quite wrong. At this point we might have hoped for a period of stability; it was not to be. An unduly judgmental Opinion in C-603/17 Bosworth seemed unhappy with the idea that powerful office holders accused of fraud could derive any benefit from Section 5, but the idea that an employee might be deprived of his shield by a bare accusation of fraud was not underwritten by the Court which otherwise left the issue well alone.

But after another regrettable Opinion, and the calamitous judgment which this time swallowed it whole, the clear rule in Brogsitter, and the foundation of Kalfelis, has been stood on its head. It now appears to be the law that if the complaint may be framed or pleaded as a tort, it may by this means be excluded from the special jurisdiction rule for matters relating to a contract. According to the Court in C-59/19 Wickingerhof (and lightly editing the judgment for ease of reading):

Where the applicant relies on rules of liability in tort, delict or quasi-delict, namely breach of an obligation imposed by law, and where it does not appear indispensable to examine the content of the contract concluded with the defendant in order to assess whether the conduct of which the latter is accused is lawful or unlawful, since that obligation applies to the defendant independently of that contract, the cause of the action is a matter relating to tort, delict or quasi-delict. Wikingerhof relies on an infringement of German competition law, which lays down a general prohibition of abuse of a dominant position, independently of any contract or other voluntary commitment. Specifically, Wikingerhof takes the view that it had no choice but to conclude the contract at issue and to suffer the effect of subsequent amendments to Booking.com’s general terms and conditions by reason of the latter’s strong position on the relevant market, even though certain of Booking.com’s practices are unfair. Thus, the legal issue at the heart of the case in the main proceedings is whether Booking.com committed an abuse of a dominant position within the meaning of German competition law. As the Advocate General stated in points 122 and 123 of his Opinion, in order to determine whether the practices complained of against Booking.com are lawful or unlawful in the light of that law, it is not indispensable to interpret the contract between the parties to the main proceedings, such interpretation being necessary, at most, in order to establish that those practices actually occur.

Those who look to the jurisprudence of the Court for answers rather than distracted theorising will rightly despair at this bouleversement. Even if one leaves aside the damage which this new approach would do were it allowed to infect Sections 3, 4 and 5 of Title/Chapter II, how is it supposed to work in common or garden cases of civil liability in which – as in Brogsitter – the claim may plausibly be pleaded by reference to contractual as well as by other-than-contractual duties ? From an English perspective, a number of cases come quickly to mind. Consider (1) the electrician who rewires a piece of equipment consigned to him for repair so negligently that it electrocutes me when I plug it in; (2) the banker, who provides a credit reference on a party with whom I am proposing to deal, who has not checked his records and so gives me bad advice; (3) the consultant who works with me to develop a new commercial opportunity but who purloins my confidential information to exploit it on his own account and at my expense; (4) the solicitor who abstracts funds which he held on my account; (5) the Uber driver who injures his passenger when he jumps a red light; (6) the doctor in private practice who molests his patient when she is on the examination table; (7) the fraudster who by deceit induces another to enter into a contract and that other, rather than rescind, sues for damages which have the same economic effect as rescission would have; (8) the person who by negligent misrepresentation induces another to enter a contract, with the same consequences as in (7); (9) the individual who by duress, or the unconscionable exercise of undue influence, causes the victim to conclude a contract with him or with another; and (10) any defendant who pleads in defence to a claim framed in tort that the parties made a contractual promise that the claim would not be brought. How many of these complaints are matters not relating to a contract ?

It might be said that in each case the wrong done was committed by a person who, in doing what he did or failed to do, broke the contract to which he had bound himself. It may also be said that (1) if my son had been the first to use the equipment he would be entitled to complain of the electrician’s negligence; (2) that if the applicant had not paid for the credit reference he would still be entitled to sue the banker for breach of the duty of care; (3) the misuse of confidential information is an equitable wrong, no matter how one comes by it; (4) fraud is fraud and theft is theft and though employment is the context it is not the cause of action; cases (5) and (6) speak for themselves; as to (7) and (8), the synergy of contract, tort, and equity as a means of dealing with pre-contractual misrepresentation means that they cannot now be pulled apart; in (9) the contract will be voidable, with an alternative claim for compensation being only doubtful; and (10) would appear to be the tip of an iceberg, for it happens all over the place. Are we now supposed to say that none of these falls within the special jurisdiction for matters relating to a contract because the duties owed and broken by the defendant arise from the general law and the contractual setting is no more than that ? That the contract is the stage but not the play ? Or is the answer – surely worse – that some do, or – surely worst – that it all depends on how the self-serving claimant chooses to plead out his claim ? This last possibility would be surprising. The Court’s jurisprudence on the place where financial loss occurs (C-375/13 Kolassa, C-12/15 Universal Music, C-304/17 Löber, C-343/19 Volkswagen, among others) has been haunted by the fear, slightly unreal, that if it is routinely held to occur at the place of the bank account out of which payment is made, a claimant, possessed of several bank accounts and uncannily impressive foresight, might pave the way to a favourable special jurisdiction. It now seems that the Court has allowed itself to be lured into the very trap it had seemed to be so concerned to avoid, or – perhaps – into an even bigger one.

One turns to examine the proposition that it is different if it is ‘indispensable’ to look to the contract. It is hard to see that this has any sensible meaning. Contracts contain all sorts of things in addition to the express promises each side makes to the other. They may make provision for the implication of terms. They may try to prevent the implication of terms: entire agreement clauses, no oral modification clauses, and so on. They may define performance obligations directly, or by the subtle chiaroscuro of express promise and exclusion clause: if liability for X is wholly excluded, there can hardly be said to be a duty to do X in the first place. They may limit the liability which would otherwise arise, or restrict the circumstances in which, or grounds upon which, a complaint may be made. They may incorporate terms from another instrument, or exclude certain statutory effects which might otherwise apply. They may provide for acts to be permitted if payment is made, such as the early termination of an agency. They may provide that a claim will not be brought in tort but that, for example, a claimant will accept a payment by way of compensation or compromise: in short, they may do all manner of things. The answer to the question whether it is indispensable to look into the contract is, surely, that it is always necessary: the contract may not add to the facts and matters in dispute, but save in the cases in which it is admitted before the writ is served, this cannot be known until one has looked. Contracts, and their interpretation, can be very complex and it is absurd to say that there is no need to look into the contract before one has looked into it. Stand, if only for an unhappy moment, in the shoes of the lawyer who advised the client that she had a case in tort and who, when asked whether he had looked into the contract to see what it might have said, says that he didn’t think there was any need to.

Granted, in Wikingerhof, it would have been a surprise to find an express term excluding any liability for abuse by Booking.com of its dominant position in the market. It may have felt odd to suggest that it was advisable, still less indispensable, to read through the contract to check; but one never knows, and this provides no basis for sound conclusion; and in any event, abuse of a dominant position is only a particular version of economic duress or undue influence, both of which lie right in the middle of the contractual mainstream. If Wikingerhof GmbH had been asked whether it considered Booking.com to have or not to have broken the contract, or unlawfully coerced the surrender or contractual rights, it could only have answered in the affirmative, albeit that it may have preferred not to say so. The defendant had, by the very conduct complained of, broken or wrongfully interfered with its contract with the claimant, yet the matter was not one relating to a contract. No matter how hard one rubs one’s eyes, this still looks wrong.

It may be asked whether the unspoken aim of the judgment in Wikingerhof was to assist the German claimant by finding a way for it to sue in the place in which it felt most comfortable; to ‘protect’ the weaker party, the vulnerable victim of a dominant abuser, as it were. One hopes that no such thought was present in the curial mind, for accusations of abuse, of fraud, are only ever accusations, and findings of abuse were many months away. And there is no little irony in the fact that the decision actually improves the jurisdictional position of the company which is in a position to abuse its dominant position. When it gets wind of the fact that a victim is about to launch proceedings, the dominant abuser will be able to rely on Wikingerhof and on C-133/11 Folien Fischer to bring proceedings, in the place of the event giving rise to the alleged loss, for a declaration that it committed no wrong. Worse, unscrupulous employers (we have no need to name names), already immune to the discipline of anti-suit injunctions, will have a new spring in their step. It is not easy to understand why this should be the way the law works.

The question framed by the judgment in Brogsitter was easy to understand and to answer: has anyone teaching the subject ever found that his or her students struggled with it ? Has anyone advising a client needed to spend anxious hours in wrestling with it ? One hopes not. What is proposed to replace it – has replaced it, if we have to accept that the damage has been done – will require us to go back over the vast range of overlapping claims and unclaims, of complaints which are, as a matter of analysis, ‘not only a simple breach of contract, but also of another obligation’ cases, and develop the science which will tell is when reference to a contract is ‘indispensable’ in order to settle the question of special jurisdiction. Brexit, Covid, and now Wikingerhof. What a wretched year. We are only one horse short of an Apocalypse.

The EAPIL blog hosts an online symposium on the ruling of the Court of Justice in the case of Wikingerhof v. Booking. The first contribution to the symposium, which is found below, is by Matthias Lehmann, who is Professor of Private International Law at the University of Vienna (as well as an editor of this blog).

Other contributions will follow (the next one will be out later today). Readers are encouraged to share their views by making comments to the posts. Those wishing to submit longer contributions for publication are invited to get in touch with the managing editor of the blog, Pietro Franzina, at pietro.franzina@unicatt.it.


In its judgment dated 24 November 2020 in Wikingerhof, the CJEU has recalibrated the relation between the heads of jurisdiction for contracts (Article 7(1) Brussels I bis Regulation) and for torts / delicts (Article 7(2)).

Facts

A hotel sued booking.com in Germany for abuse of a dominant position. The hotel alleged having been strong-armed by the booking platform into an unfavourable contract.

Booking.com denied the German court’s jurisdiction over the claim, citing a choice-of-forum clause in the contract in favour of a Dutch court. This clause was however held to be invalid by the referring German Federal Court.

If the case fell under the head of jurisdiction for torts/delicts in Art. 7(2) Brussels Ibis, German courts could have jurisdiction given that the harmful event could be said to have occurred in Germany. In contrast, if the case concerned a contractual claim in the sense of Art. 7(1) Brussels Ibis, the jurisdiction of the German courts would have been more doubtful, as it was not sure that the contract between Wikingerhof and booking.com was to be performed in Germany.

Issue

The legal issue was therefore whether an alleged abuse of a dominant position that consists in forcing another person into an unfavorable contract is tortious/delictual or contractual in nature.

Holding and Rationale

The CJEU held the claim concerned a tort/delict matter. It cites its previous case law on the relation between the jurisdiction for contractual and tort claims, in particular the Kalfelis and the Brogistter case. In Kalfelis, the court had ruled that both heads of jurisdiction were mutually exclusive. In Brogsitter, the CJEU had held that a case is contractual in nature “where the interpretation of the contract … is indispensable to establish the lawful or, on the contrary, unlawful nature of the conduct complained of” (Brogsitter, para 25).

According to the CJEU in Wikingerhof, the interpretation of the contract was not indispensable to establish the unlawful nature of booking.com’s behaviour. True, the abuse of a dominant position resulted from the unfavourable clauses of the contract. Yet the CJEU highlights that the interpretation of the clauses was necessary only to establish the existence of an abuse. In other words, the contract is needed as factual evidence, not as a legal standard. The Advocate General basically states the same when he calls the interpretation of the contract a “preliminary question” (Wikingerhof, para 124).

Assessment

After the CJEU judgment in Brogsitter, one could have feared that the head of jurisdiction for contracts would be dominated by that for torts. The new decision in Wikingerhof reestablishes the equilibrium between the two. It clarifies that Article 7(2) Brussels I bis applies in cases of abuse of a dominant position, even those made by the conclusion of an unfavourable contract.

Indeed, violations of competition law are typical torts. It would be ill-advised to force the victim of such uncompetitive behaviour to sue at the place of performance foreseen in the contract because it is precisely this contract about which the victim complaints. The fact that the victim only pleads an abuse does not mean that one could disregard its complaint: For the purpose of establishing jurisdiction, the standard of proof has never been the same as that which applies for the merits of the case. It is for the court at the alleged place of abuse to find out whether the complaint is justified or not.

The new judgment in Wikingerhof does not break with the Brogsitter ruling, but is actually compatible with the latter. According to Brogsitter, a case is contractual in nature where the contractual provisions determine the outcome of the claim. Wikingerhof adds that this is only true where the contractual provisions are used as a normative standard, and not as factual proof of competitive misbehaviour. The delineation may be difficult to understand, but it is nonetheless necessary and reasonable.

The author of this post is Franz Kaps, Lawyer at DL Piper, Frankfurt am Main.


To stop the spread of the COVID-19 (Coronavirus) pandemic governments closed ports and “non-essential businesses”, restricted travel and imposed “lockdowns” or “stay-at-home” orders. In cases where the COVID-19 pandemic or government measures disrupt commercial contracts, it is necessary to carefully analyze the state of affairs to determine the appropriate remedy. A considerable number of articles have already been written on contracts affected by the COVID-19 pandemic, and now it is time to summarize the legal situation for commercial contracts in the most important jurisdictions in a nutshell. This post therefore presents remedies for commercial contracts affected by COVID-19, under the laws of the countries whose systems are most commonly chosen to be applied to commercial contracts, and the CISG.

UK, Hong Kong, Singapore

Force Majeure

Force majeure is principally a matter of contract law in the common law jurisdictions England, Hong Kong and Singapore. Whether a force majeure clause is applicable in a particular situation and its consequences depends primarily on the wording of the force majeure clause. A clause modelled, for example, on the 2020 ICC force majeure clause (long form), presumes that an epidemic is a force majeure event; pandemics such as COVID-19 are not expressly mentioned, therefore it will be for the arbitral tribunals and courts to interpret the term “epidemic” under no. 3 (e) ICC to encompass pandemics.

The burden of proof is on the party invoking the force majeure clause as defense. Such a party has to demonstrate that a force majeure event occurred and that it had the stipulated effect on the contractual performance. If a party invokes a force majeure clause in a commercial contract, it releases the party from its contractual obligations when circumstances beyond its control have prevented, hindered or delayed its performance.

In case the COVID-19 pandemic falls within the scope of the force majeure clause, parties should carefully examine whether there are other relevant contractual terms affecting the application of the clause – in particular, whether there are any requirements to notify the other party before invoking the clause.

Frustration

Besides force majeure clauses, the main common law doctrine with potential relevance to the discharge of obligations in the light of unforeseen events – like the COVID-19 pandemic – is frustration. According to it, a contract may be discharged upon the occurrence of an unforeseeable event that either renders the contractual obligation impossible or radically changes the basis upon which the contract was reached. However, it should be noted that the doctrine of frustration has a very limited scope.

Germany

Impossibility

Pursuant to Section 275 German Civil Code (BGB) a party is not required to perform its obligations to the extent that performance is impossible. Section 275 German Civil Code applies not only if performance of the obligation is technically or legally impossible, but also in cases where performance is still technically and legally possible, but would require expenses and efforts which, considering the subject matter of the obligation and the requirements of good faith, would be grossly disproportionate to the creditor’s interest of performance. In addition, Section 275 German Civil Code governs temporary impediments, i. e. a claim for performance is excluded as long as performance is impossible. However, German courts respect the legal principle pacta sunt servanda and hence apply Section 275 German Civil Code narrowly, in order not to undermine the agreed contractual obligations.

Frustration of Purpose

The doctrine of “frustration of purpose” (German Störung der Geschäftsgrundlage) can be invoked in cases affected by the COVID-19 pandemic. Frustration of purpose under Section 313 German Civil Code will apply where the balance between performance and counter-performance of a contract is significantly changed in a way that was not foreseeable by the parties when the contract was concluded. Such a “frustrated contract” entitles the disadvantaged party to request the amendment of the contract. If an amendment of the contract is not possible or unreasonable, the disadvantaged party may rescind or terminate the contract. According to case law the principle of “contractual loyalty” requires a strict interpretation of Section 313 German Civil Code.

France

Force Majeure

Article 1218 French Civil Code addresses the concept of force majeure. According to its Article 1218 , the debtor’s performance is prevented by a force majeure event if three cumulative criteria are met:

  1. The event must be beyond the control of the debtor;
  2. It must be an event which could not reasonably have been foreseen at the time of the conclusion of the contract; and
  3. The effects of the event could not be avoided by appropriate measures.

The legal consequence of Article 1218 French Civil Code is that if performance of the obligation is temporarily prevented, it is suspended unless the delay justifies termination of the contract. In the event of permanent prevention, the contract is terminated by operation of law and the parties are discharged from their obligations.

Hardship

The recently introduced Article 1195 French Civil Code requires renegotiation of a contract if circumstances which were unforeseeable at the time of conclusion of the contract render performance excessively onerous for a party which had not accepted to bear that risk. If renegotiations fail, the parties may agree to terminate the contract, or request a court to revise or terminate the contract.

Switzerland

Swiss law has no statutory provision for force majeure events. In the absence of a force majeure clause in a contract, the applicable legal regime depends on whether the performance of the contract is impossible.

Pursuant to Article 119, 62 Swiss Code of Obligations, the impossibility to perform a contract – due to circumstances not attributable to the debtor – releases both parties from their obligations to perform and leads to the unwinding of the contract according to the rules of unjust enrichment.

In case the impossibility to perform the obligation lasts only for a limited time, the default provisions of Article 107 to 109 Swiss Code of Obligations apply. They provide that if one party is in default, the other party may set an appropriate time limit for the performance. If no performance is rendered during such a time limit, the other party may terminate the contract.

When the performance of a contract is not entirely impossible, but has become extremely onerous, a party may rely on the legal doctrine clausula rebus sic stantibus. It must be a situation which is not only extremely onerous but was also unforeseeable when the contract was concluded. In such circumstances, the parties may agree to amend or terminate the contract. Should one party insist that the contract remains unchanged, the other party may refer the matter before a court. If the requirement of clausula rebus sic stantibus are fulfilled, the court may order an amendment or the termination of the contract.

United States

U.S. contract law is ordinarily a matter of state law. I will focus on New York law, as it is the most commonly chosen by commercial parties to govern their contracts.

Contractual Force Majeure Clauses

Force majeure clauses are contractual provisions that may excuse a party’s non-performance when circumstances beyond the control of a party prevent performance. New York courts have held that force majeure clauses are to be interpreted in a narrow sense and that performance under a contract is ordinarily excused only if the event preventing performance is explicitly mentioned in the force majeure clause.

Subsidiary Solutions

In the absence of a force majeure clause, the common law doctrines of impossibility, impracticability and “frustration of purpose” may excuse performance.

The doctrine of impossibility excuses a party’s performance only when the destruction of the subject matter of the contract or the means of performance makes performance objectively impossible. The impossibility must be produced by an unanticipated event that could not have been foreseen or guarded against in the contract. Impossibility is therefore a narrow legal doctrine.

The doctrine of impracticability is similar to the doctrine of impossibility, but it is more flexible in its application. According to the doctrine of impracticability, a failure to perform contractual obligations is excused, if a party’s performance is made impracticable without its fault by the occurrence of an event the non-occurrence of which was a basic assumption on which the contract was made. Courts have generally applied the doctrine of impracticability conservatively.

Frustration of purpose is a common law doctrine that excuses a party’s performance under a contract when an unforeseen event renders the contract “virtually worthless” to the affected party. Although a literal performance under the contract is still technically possible, the frustrated purpose must be so completely the basis of the contract that, as both parties understood, without it, the transaction would have made little sense. The threshold of the doctrine of frustration of purpose is high, because performance of the contract must be economically impossible.

United Nations Convention on Contracts for the International Sale of Goods (CISG)

The CISG is applicable to contracts for the sale of goods between parties who have their place of business in different states, if these states are contracting states or if the rules of private international law lead to the application of the law of a contracting state and the CISG was not expressly excluded in the contract.

Strict Liability

Contracts for the supply of goods under the CISG are governed by the strict liability of the debtor. It is therefore irrelevant for the liability of the debtor whether they are responsible for the improper performance or the non-performance of their contractual obligation.

Exemption of Liability

In order to mitigate the strict liability of the debtor, Article 79 CISG provides for an exemption from the debtor’s liability if the failure to perform any of their obligations is due to an impediment beyond their control. It is additionally required that they could not reasonably be expected to have taken the impediment into account at the time of conclusion of the contract or to have avoided or overcome the impediment or its consequences. Article 79 CISG is advantageous to the seller. If the non-performance of an obligation to deliver is based on a force majeure event, the seller is released from the obligation to perform the contract for the period of the impediment. Also, the seller is not obliged to pay damages, because the performance is prevented by the force majeure event. However, pursuant to Article 79 para. 4 CISG the seller must inform the buyer of the impediment and its effects on their ability to perform within a reasonable period of time after they have or should have become aware of the impediment. Otherwise, they are liable for damages resulting from such non-receipt. The burden of proof that a contractual obligation was not performed or was delayed as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic lies with the debtor.

International practice accepts epidemics as being beyond the debtor’s typical sphere of control. Consequently, the COVID-19 pandemic could constitute a minore ad maius an impediment beyond control according to Article 79 CISG. Whether the COVID-19 virus exempts debtors from their obligation to perform the commercial contract depends on the individual case, since it requires a causal link between the impediment and non-performance.

Takeaway

The impact the COVID-19 pandemic will have on the parties’ commercial contracts depends primary on the wording of their force majeure clause. In case of a force majeure event, the arbitral tribunals and the courts grant the terms of a commercial contract precedence over the applicable law. If a commercial contract does not contain a force majeure clause, or if does not cover pandemics, the applicable laws determine the available remedies. The remedies and requirements under the applicable law for commercial contracts affected by the COVID-19 pandemic differ. National laws have in common that legal doctrines which amend or terminate contractual agreements are narrowly construed. The underlying consideration is that arbitral tribunals and courts are only exceptionally authorized to “rewrite” the contractual obligations of the parties. It is therefore decisive whether the contractual provisions comprise a force majeure clause covering the COVID-19 pandemic. Against this backdrop parties should commercial evaluate – based on the facts of each case – their options to invoke a force majeure defense or to perform, amend, or terminate their commercial contracts.

In light of the high thresholds for a force majeure defense under the applicable law, it is essential to ensure legal certainty by including a force majeure clause in commercial contracts which clearly encompasses epidemics and pandemics. In particular, the party that would be affected by an epidemic or pandemic in the performance of its contractual obligations should assure that such events are expressly referred to in their force majeure clause, to ensure a balanced distribution of risks. Whether the situation is one of an epidemic or a pandemic should be determine by an objective criterion: a declaration by the World Health Organization would be useful to decide when the events under examination trigger the force majeure consequences.

Good starting point for future “tailor-made” force majeure clauses in commercial contracts is the balanced 2020 ICC force majeure proposal. Moreover, as in our globalized world, the next epidemic or pandemic will spread sooner or later, a lege artis force majeure clause must cover epidemics and pandemics.

The author of this post is Prof Dr Dan Jerker B. Svantesson, Professor at the Faculty of Law, Bond University (Australia), Visiting Professor at Masaryk University (Czech Republic) and Associated Researcher at the Swedish Law & Informatics Research Institute, Stockholm University (Sweden).


On 6 December 2020, I had the great honour of giving a presentation at the Royal Netherlands Society of International Law’s Annual General Meeting. The topic I had been invited to address was the questions of whether (public and private) international law is ready for the, already ongoing, digital age. In essence, I made six observations:

  1. Examples can be found of the online environment undermining the proper functioning of public and private international law structures;
  2. As structured and applied online today, public and private international law creates a situation of ‘hyperregulation’;
  3. The complexity of international law stems in part from the fact that the frameworks and concepts applied were developed in other eras and under other conditions resulting in them being insufficient to address the issues with which we are confronted now at the beginning of the 21st century;
  4. The international law community must do more to engage with, and prioritise, Internet-related legal issues, and must seek to increase the profile of public and private international law in the Internet regulation community;
  5. Examples can already be found of, more or less, self-regulatory Internet-related ADR schemes that effectively exclude international law altogether (see here). We must recognise that, with a proliferation of such schemes, the role and influence of international law decreases; and
  6. The international law community ought to do more to engage with large, forward-looking, questions such as how AI may support, and indeed reform, how we work with international law (see further here). In this context, we must be brave enough to be willing to reconsider also the most entrenched notions.

I am happy to have the opportunity to summarise some of my arguments here. Focus will be placed on the first four of the topics outlined above.

The Online Environment Undermining the Proper Functioning of Public and Private International Law Structures

There is a long-standing recognition of a tension between the largely borderless Internet and the border-focused law. However, here I want to point to a more specific (and recent) illustration of how the online environment challenges the proper functioning of private international law.

Ordinarily, the need for recognition and enforcement works to counter the impact of excessive foreign claims of jurisdiction that are contrary to a country’s public policy. However, the protection and equalising effect normally provided by the need for recognition and enforcement has been severely undermined by courts claim a broad ‘scope of jurisdiction’ (see also here) or ‘scope of remedial jurisdiction’ as preferred by the Court of Appeal for British Columbia (see here).

Scope of jurisdiction relates to the appropriate geographical scope of orders rendered by a court that has personal jurisdiction and subject matter jurisdiction. This question has gained far less attention to date than the other two types of jurisdiction. Yet, to understand its significance we need only consider the fact that, any time a court orders an Internet actor to block, delist, deindex, de-reference, delete, remove, or takedown content, it will need to consider whether to grant that order only in relation to publications in the state where the court sits, or to extend the order more widely – perhaps even globally. Thus, it is unsurprising that scope of jurisdiction has emerged as one of the most hotly contested ‘battle ground’ in the intersection between international law and the Internet.

In a situation where a court claims worldwide scope of jurisdiction in the context of an order against a major Internet platform, and that platform complies with the order, there simply is no need for recognition and enforcement – the worldwide impact is automatic.

Imagine, for example, that a Dutch citizen in the Netherlands posts something on a US social media site. The posting, while perfectly legal in both the Netherlands and in the US, is seen to be offensive to the Communist Party of China and a Chinese court or authority orders its removal. If the US social media company complies, the removal is effective worldwide without the need for any enforcement action in neither the Netherlands nor in the US. In fact, the laws and legal systems – including the public policies – of these countries do then not feature in the equation at all.

The threats to free speech posed by this scenario are beyond intelligent dispute. However, things get much worse when we consider that the CJEU’s recently adopted approach means that Internet platforms are not only subject to orders to remove posted content, but also to block – potentially with worldwide effect – future content that is ‘equivalent’ to the content removed (see further here and here).

Applying this to the China-related example above, we are heading towards a situation in which e.g. Chinese law may stifle regime critics from other countries to the degree that their postings, while lawful where the person resides, are censored by non-Chinese Internet platforms. In such a situation, the private international law of the state in which the person or the platform are based, has no influence. Further, it is doubtful that public international law as it stands provides sufficient protection, at least if the interpretation of the relevant rules of public international law are left to the country wishing to effect the censorship as suggested by the CJEU.

As Structured and Applied Online Today, (Public and) Private International Law Creates a Situation of ‘Hyperregulation’

The only reason law does not make impossible the operation of the Internet is found in the combined effect of, on the one hand, self-imposed state restraint in not applying their laws as widely as they could and, on the other hand, more pragmatically, enforcement difficulties. Worryingly, it seems to me that the latter of these factors plays a considerably larger role than does the former.

To see the extent of the challenge, we need only consider the number of countries’ laws that may apply to something as mundane as an unflattering social media post about another person. The person making the posting may have to take account of the law of the country she is in at the time of making the posting, the law of the country in which she is habitually residing (and/or has domicile) and, if different, the law(s) of her country of citizenship(s). Then she will probably also need to consider US law as most major social media platforms are based in the US (although there is also a considerable uptake in social media – such as the Chinese platform TikTok – from other parts of the world). We are here already confronted by a few, potentially very different, legal systems providing laws with which the person making the posting is meant to comply.

Given that our hypothetical posting relates to another person, we may also need to consider the laws of that person’s location, residence, domicile and citizenship(s). And we may also need to consider the laws of any additional countries in which that person has a reputation to protect.

Furthermore, under the law of many, not to say most, countries focus may be placed on where content is downloaded or read; two distinct, but often conflated, activities. Thus, the person making the posting will also need to comply with the laws of all the countries in which her ‘friends’ or ‘connections’ are found; and less predictably, the laws of all the countries in which they may be located when reading her posting. It goes without saying that, the number of additional legal systems to be considered grows with the number, and geographical diversity, of her friends or connections, and in light of the mobility of people, may never be fully ascertained at the time of posting.

As if the complexity alluded to so far was not enough, things get even messier when we confront the liability that may stem from re-publications; that is, to map out the full extent of potentially applicable laws, we must also take account of the laws of all the countries in which re-posted versions of the original posting may be downloaded or read. Here the original poster obviously loses all possibilities of predicting the scope of laws to which she may be exposed.

Finally, content placed on social media platforms is often stored in ‘the cloud’, and while we as users may not necessarily be able to find out where our content is located, we may be legally obligated to consider the laws of the country in which it is stored.

This legal situation, of extraordinary complexity, is what billions of social media users face on a daily basis. For the absolute majority, their postings will not lead to any legal drama. However, the thought of being exposed to potential legal liability in a large number of countries should be a concern to anyone. And of course, the very idea that you strictly speaking should inform yourself of all those laws you are meant to follow is daunting indeed.

Elsewhere (see here), I have described this as a situation of ‘hyperregulation’ characterised by the following conditions:

  1. the complexity of a party’s contextual legal system (i.e., the combination of all laws that purport to apply to that party in a given context) amounts to an insurmountable obstacle to legal compliance; and
  2. the prospect of legal enforcement of (at least parts of) the laws that make up the contextual legal system is more than a theoretical possibility.
The Complexity of International Law Frameworks and Concepts

In the context of applying international law to Internet activities or situations there are numerous instances of competing legitimate interests; State A’s protection of free speech may be difficult to reconcile with State B’s restrictions on hate speech, and so on. On a slightly more general level, we may observe that broad claims of jurisdiction may unreasonably interfere with the rights of people in other States, while restrictive approaches to jurisdiction may render a victim without realistic access to justice. Thus, the difficulties we experience in applying international law to the Internet stem from the fact that the ‘genuine regulatory challenges’ we need to work with are both numerous and go to the depth of involving the most fundamental legal notions. Yet this does not fully explain the complexity of our situation.

The application online of the pre-Internet legal concepts that make up public, and private, international law often involves decisions on the appropriate analogies and metaphors. As I have been arguing for the past 15 years, we must try to avoid inappropriate reliance on metaphors and analogies (see here).

In the survey that formed the base for the Internet & Jurisdiction Global Status Report 2019, several interviewed experts emphasised the concern that, in the jurisdiction field, legal concepts are old fashioned and outdated. Furthermore, one of the survey questions posed the claim that we already apply the right legal concepts to address cross-border legal challenges on the Internet. Among the surveyed experts, 46% either disagreed or strongly disagreed, 36% indicated that they neither agreed nor disagreed, and only 18% either agreed or strongly agreed.

This, it is submitted, hints at what may be termed ‘artificial (i.e. manmade) regulatory challenges’ in that the frameworks and concepts being applied are insufficient to address the issues with which we are confronted. In general, it seems that international lawyers are looking at all changes taking place in today’s world through the lenses of vested concepts such as extraterritoriality, sovereignty etc. They want the world to be guided by reference to these concepts. Yet it should perhaps be the other way round – the concepts we use should be guided by how the world in fact is. While we of course ought to make use of those concepts that truly remain useful, we must also be prepared to develop new concepts if reality so requires. In other words, the inadequacy of the tools may cause regulatory challenges preventing, or at least limiting, progress.

It seems to me that the Internet jurisdiction debate these days is focused on tackling the most imminent day-to-day issues (some of the ‘genuine regulatory challenges’), at the expense of attention being directed at the underlying conceptual mess (the ‘artificial regulatory challenges’). This is of course natural given the very real impact these challenges have for society. However, real progress can only be made where we also tackle the ‘artificial regulatory challenges’.

Examples of proposals I have advanced to address these artificial regulatory challenges include:

  1. A new jurisprudential framework for the concept of jurisdiction (see here);
  2. The categorisation of types of jurisdiction under public international law, introducing the concept of ‘investigative jurisdiction’ (see here);
  3. The introduction of the concept of ‘scope of jurisdiction’ (discussed above); and
  4. A clarification of the status of ‘sovereignty’ (see here).
The International Law Community and the Internet

In 2019, online retailer Amazon surpassed Walmart to become the world’s largest retailer, and tech companies feature prominently on lists ranking the world’s most powerful companies. The world’s most populous states – China and India – have an estimated 1.39 and 1.35 billion citizens respectively; but Facebook has a ‘population’ of 2.45 billion active users. Thus, a rule introduced in the laws of China directly affects just over half as many people as does a rule introduced in Facebook’s Terms of Service!

In addition, there is a clear ongoing trend of borders between the online data-driven world and the physical world are eroding. In the Internet of Things (IoT) era, however, the speed with which these borders erode is increasing dramatically, with effects for all aspects of society. Put simply, the offline world is no longer offline.

To all this may be added the changes in the world due to the, at the time of writing, ongoing pandemic. With large parts of the physical world currently in lockdown, it may be said that the online world is now working better than does its offline counterpart.

Our currently increased reliance on online at the expense of the offline may well affect behaviour patterns long-term, meaning that we will continue to live an even greater segment of our lives online in the future also after the world has overcome the pandemic. This is an aspect of a broader phenomenon that may be termed ‘COVID-19 driven trend acceleration’; that is, already existing trends are significantly accelerated due to the COVID-19 pandemic and how society adjusts to it.

The message stemming from the above is clear, loud and beyond intelligent dispute – cross-border Internet-related legal issues are central matters in society and need to be treated as such also private and public international law.

Yet, law in general, but public and private international law in particular, treats Internet issues as an exotic side dish to the main course taken for granted as being the offline – physical – world. Anyone doubting this claim need only take a glance at the tables of content of textbooks and journals in those respective fields: Internet issues do feature but typically only to a very limited, subsidiary, extent. Approaching Internet-related legal issues in this manner is unsustainable in today’s world where cyber is such a big part of our lives.

Thus, it seems to me that an important task that remains to be completed is to recalibrate the debate from one of a clash between (international) law and the Internet, to one focused on how international law can better help facilitate a desirable online environment.

Final Remarks

As it turns out, the Internet is not a fad after all. It is not just here to stay; it is here to dominate our lives. Looking at news reports, and indeed society in general, this is obvious. Yet looking at legal literature in general, and international law in particular, it is not adequately reflected. This is unsustainable and those who take pride in proclaiming that they do not deal with Internet issues are escapists at risk of irrelevance. What is worse, much could have been achieved to create better Internet regulation – and ultimately a better world – had more experts from non-technology fields been more willing to engage with these novel legal issues as they became apparent. I hope the 2020 Royal Netherlands Society of International Law’s debate on a current issue in the domain of international law can help create real awareness and greater discussions of these issues, at least for the Netherlands – a longstanding leader in progressive, constructive, and creative thinking in international law – but hopefully more broadly.

But as noted by Juenger: “[T]urmoil is bound to happen whenever old principles clash with new realities” (see here), and in few other areas has this so clearly proven to be the case as it has when applying private and public international law principles to the online environment. Much remains to be done to improve the relationship between international law and the Internet, and the tasks that lie ahead – tasks for us all – are huge indeed. But they are neither unsurmountable, nor are they optional.

The European Order for Payment (EOP, Regulation (EC) No 1896/2006), the European Small Claims Procedure (ESCP, Regulation (EC) No 861/2007) and the European Account Preservation Order (EAPO, Regulation (EU) No 655/2014) applied for several years in Romania without any specific implementation legislation being adopted to coordinate their interaction with the national procedural rules.

As generally regulations do not require any specific additional legislative action from the Member States to be applied at national level, Romanian authorities relied on the principle of direct application of the three instruments. However, the referral to national procedural rules in several articles of the regulations (e.g. existence of an appeal mechanisms, costs of proceedings, assistance) as well as reliance on national rules when no specific provisions are contained in the European legislation (Article 26 EOP, Article 19 ESCP, and Article 46 EAPO) can create disparities and give rise to variations in the application of these instruments even within one Member State.

Recently, this direct application approach changed. In December 2019 the Romanian Government and, subsequently, the Parliament initiated acts to amend national laws. These legislative amendments were aimed at facilitating the application of these regulations and clarifying particular procedural aspects in order to ease judicial cooperation between Member States for the EOP, ESCP, and EAPO procedures. The new national rules dedicated to the EOP, ESCP, and EAPO focus mainly on issues of jurisdiction of Romanian courts, identifying the national authorities involved in the application of the Regulations, and establishing the applicable procedural fees.

EAPO: A Guided Implementation Process to Avoid an Infringement Procedure

The amendment of national legislation regarding the EAPO has been triggered by the initiation of an infringement procedure by the European Commission. A letter of formal notice (letter C(2019) 6729 final) was sent to the Romanian authorities in 2019 – more than two years since the regulation became applicable – because the Government failed to communicate relevant information for the application of the regulation as required by Article 50 EAPO Regulation.

Following this formal notice, the Romanian Government acted expediently to avoid a possible referral to the Court of Justice of the European Union in an infringement procedure. The Government’s Note proposing the legislative amendment as well as in the Statement of Reasons for the law approving the Government Emergency Ordinance containing implementation provisions refer to this risk as well as that of hefty fines for the national budget due to non-compliance with EU law. Based on these reasons the Government moved quickly in December 2019 to adopt an Emergency Ordinance – Ordonaţa de urgenţă nr. 75 din 13 decembrie 2019 pentru completarea Ordonanţei de urgenţă a Guvernului nr. 119/2006 privind unele măsuri necesare pentru aplicarea unor regulamente comunitare de la data aderării României la Uniunea Europeană, precum şi pentru modificarea Ordonanţei de urgenţă a Guvernului nr. 80/2013 privind taxele judiciare de timbre.

Based on the Government’s Note, the Emergency Ordinance No. 75/2019 was meant to address information that had not been clearly provided for the application of the EAPO in Romania. This concerned:

  • the methods that could be used to obtain account information regarding a debtor holding a bank account in Romania (Article 50(1)(c) EAPO Regulation) and
  • which courts were competent to handle EAPO requests, the available means of appeal, the national authority competent to receive requests for obtaining account information about bank accounts and to provide such information, and the methods applicable to receive this information (by Romanian and authorities in other Member States).

The new article Article I8 of the Government Emergency Ordinance No 119/2006 regarding certain measures necessary for the application of some Community Regulations after the date of accession of Romania to the European Union explicitly addresses the information requirements contained in Article 50(1) letters (a)-(d), (l) and (m) EAPO Regulation.

Based on this legislative amendment, the courts competent to issue Preservation Orders in Romania based on an authentic instrument would be the ones having jurisdiction to handle the claim at first instance (Article 1(1) Government Emergency Ordinance No 119/2006 in conjunction with Articles 6(4) EAPO Regulation). Further, any appeal against a decision to reject in whole or in part an application for a Preservation Order would be handle by the hierarchical higher court to the one that issued the initial decision (Article 1(2) Government Emergency Ordinance No 119/2006 in conjunction with Articles 21 EAPO Regulation). This means that different type of courts can have jurisdiction to receive an application for an EAPO based on the threshold of the claim. These would be either the district courts (judecătorii) for requests of up to 200.000 RON (approx. 42.000 euros) or the general courts (tribunale) for applications above this threshold. Similarly, any request to revoke or modify a Preservation Order based on Article 31(1) EAPO Regulation will be handled by the hierarchical higher court to the one that issued it (Article 1(3) Government Emergency Ordinance No 119/2006).

The remedies available to the debtor against the enforcement of a Preservation Order according to Article 34 EAPO Regulation will rest with the enforcement court (Article 1(4) Government Emergency Ordinance No 119/2006). Again any appeal against the remedies available to the creditor and the debtor based on the provisions of Articles 33-35 EAPO will lie with the hierarchical higher courts to the courts that issued the Preservation Order (Article 1(3)-(4) Government Emergency Ordinance No 119/2006 in conjunction with Articles 33(1), 34 and 35 EAPO Regulation). In such circumstances, the appeal would have to be introduced within a period of 30 days from the date of communication of the decision challenged, unless the law establishes otherwise. This last part gives rise to some uncertainty, especially for foreign parties which are presumed not to be familiar with the Romanian legal system and its particularities. Hence, relying on a local practitioner would remain necessary although representation is not mandatory in the EAPO procedure (Article 41 EAPO Regulation).

Any request to obtain information and identify a debtor’s potential bank accounts in Romania according to Article 14 EAPO Regulation will be dealt with by the National Union of Judicial Enforcement Officers (Uniunea Naţională a Executorilor Judecătoreşti, UNEJ). The National Union of Judicial Enforcement Officers is the designated information authority competent to provide this information upon request. For this purpose, the Union has been granted direct and free of charge access to the Ministry of Public Finance IT system – PatrimVen (Article 2 Government Emergency Ordinance No 119/2006).

With regard to procedural costs related to the issuance of a European Account Preservation Order, the court fees are fixed at 100 RON (approx. 21 euros) (Article 11(1) Government Emergency Ordinance No 80/2013 regarding the judiciary stamp fees). The EAPO court fee is similar to fees applicable in other national procedures concerning protective measures. Its low value is certainly convenient, especially for high-value EAPOs.

EOP and ESCP: Implementation Legislation A Decade into their Application

The EOP and ESCP have been the testing ground for direct application of ‘second-generation’ European regulations into national procedure. This has led to interpretation difficulties (e.g. amount of court fees to be paid, appeal and review mechanisms, lack of legal assistance) and mixed results according to previously published research findings (e.g. further Luxembourg Report on Mutual Trust and Free Circulation of Judgments and Cross-Border Debt Recovery in the EU). During this initial period, the only legislative provision implicitly referring to these instruments was Article 636 New Code of Civil Procedure. The article states that European enforceable titles for which the exequatur procedure is not required are immediately enforceable in Romania without any preliminary formality.

The legislative change for these two European procedures came in July 2020. A law – Law No 132 of 15 July 2020 – was adopted by the Parliament. The law amended one more time the Government Emergency Ordinance No 119/2006 regarding certain measures necessary for the application of some Community Regulation after the date of accession of Romania to the European Union and the Government Emergency Ordinance No 80/2013 regarding the judiciary stamp fees. Two new articles were added to facilitate the application of the EOP and ESCP Regulation in Romania – Articles I9 and I10 (see Statement of Reasons). As for the EAPO Regulation, these articles address only some of the elements that require coordination between the European rules and national legislation, namely: the requirements of Article 29(1)(a)-(b) EOP Regulation and Article 25(1)(a), (c) and (g) ESCP Regulation

For the EOP, the jurisdiction will rest with the courts that would be competent to handle the claims on the merits at first instance (Article 1 Government Emergency Ordinance No 119/2006). These would be either the district courts (judecătorii) or the general courts (tribunale). The district courts have competence for claims up to 200.000 RON (approx. 42.000 euros). The claims above this threshold will be handled by the general court as first instance court.

Any review request in the framework of the EOP Regulation will be examined by the same court that issued the EOP but in a panel of two judges (Article 2 Government Emergency Ordinance No 119/2006). Although this legislative step clarifies some organisational aspects of the review proceeding, it does not solve how the review should be handled based on various national means (see here also). The national procedures according to which the review should be handled are broader in scope than the provisions of Article 20 EOP Regulation and require some legal knowledge. This keeps the proceeding rather complex for a first-time user with little legal training.

With regard to the ESCP, the Romanian courts competent to issue the ESCP judgment are the district courts (judecătoriile) according to Article 2(1) Government Emergency Ordinance No 119/2006. The ESCP judgment will be subject only to appeal before the competent general court (tribunal) and will have to be filed within 30 days from the moment the judgment was communicated to the party (Article 2(2) Government Emergency Ordinance No 119/2006 in conjunction with Article 17 ESCP Regulation).

A request for review – as for the EOP procedure – will rest with the court that issued the ESCP judgment. However, unlike for the EOP, the provisions related to the ESCP do not expressly indicate that the review will be handled by a panel of judges. This difference in the drafting of the legal text is regrettable as it gives rise to potential confusions and interpretations per a contrario given the special nature of the rules.

Both EOP and ESCP provisions related to the competent courts to receive the application forms do not change the practice of the Romanian courts but confirm the already existing interpretation followed by practitioners.

For court fees, the Romanian legislator opted for a fixed court fee as for similar national procedures (ordonanţa de plată and procedura cu privire la cererile de valoare redusă). Hence, an application for an EOP will cost the applicant 200 RON (approx. 41 euros) (Article 6(2) Government Emergency Ordinance No 80/2013 regarding the judiciary stamp fees). While the ESCP claims will vary between 50 RON (approx. 10,5 euros) for claims below 2.000 RON (or their equivalent) and 200 RON (approx. 41 euros) for claims above this threshold (Article 6(2) Government Emergency Ordinance No 80/2013). The procedure following opposition to an EOP and review requests will involve an additional fixed fee of 100 RON (approx. 21 euros) (Article 6(21) Government Emergency Ordinance No 80/2013 regarding the judiciary stamp fees. This legislative action is welcomed as it puts an end to the different approaches followed by Romania courts. These varied between a fixed cost identical to the equivalent national procedures and a court fee based on the value of the claim submitted.

The most important legislative development related to the application of the ESCP concerns the implementation of specific provisions regarding the assistance to the provided to the parties (Article 11 ESCP Regulation).

According to Article 1 Government Emergency Ordinance No 119/2006, practical assistance for filling in the Claim Form (Form A) will be provided by the lawyers designated for this purpose by each local Bar Association for periods of three months (on a rotation basis). The list of lawyers to provide legal assistance and their contact details will be published online by the Union of National Bar Associations in Romania and each local Bar Association. This list is also to be communicated to each district court for publication at its premises as well as online on the website of the Romanian Courts. Finding the necessary details will remain certainly more challenging for foreign users as the information on the websites is generally available only in Romanian.

The costs for this assistance will be fixed based on a protocol of understanding establishing the representation fees for ex officio legal representation. No fee will have to be paid by the party receiving assistance in accordance with Article 11 ESCP Regulation. Although a welcomed legislative clarification such lists do not appear to have been published for the time being with the indicated national websites or their whereabouts are not easy to spot (even for a legally trained subject). Given that the legislative changes were only introduced four months ago, practical application and technical adjustments may take some time to be calibrated by the local Bar Associations and district courts.

These legislative steps undertaken by the Romanian authorities are certainly a good development for facilitating the interaction between the European and national procedural rules and the application of the EOP, ESCP, and EAPO. Domestic rules have an important influence on the manner in which the European procedures are applied and represent a key prerequisite for certainty, visibility of the procedures, and their subsequent success.

In a recent e-mail exchange, Paul Beaumont and Jayne Holliday (both working now at the University of Stirling) drew my attention to Article 14 of the Hague Convention on the civil aspects of international child abduction. The provision is certainly a rarity in the field of ascertaining and applying foreign law, and of recognition. It reads as follows

In ascertaining whether there has been a wrongful removal or retention within the meaning of Article 3, the judicial or administrative authorities of the requested State may take notice directly of the law of, and of judicial or administrative decisions, formally recognised or not in the State of the habitual residence of the child, without recourse to the specific procedures for the proof of that law or for the recognition of foreign decisions which would otherwise be applicable.

The logic of Article 14 appears to be twofold. It is first and  foremost a practical rule: it should lead to speedy decisions on the return of a child, which are fundamental to the working of the Convention.

Its second rationale seems to be dogmatic. According to the Convention’s explanatory report by Elisa Pérez-Vera, at para 119, Article 14 does not address cases of application of foreign law in the narrow sense; it rather “takes it into account” to check whether the claim of wrongful removal is correct:

Since the wrongful nature of a child’s removal is made to depend, in terms of the Convention, on its having occurred as the result of a breach of the actual exercise of custody rights conferred by the law of the child’s habitual residence, it is clear that the authorities of the requested State will have to take this law into consideration when deciding whether the child should be returned. In this sense, the provision in article 13 of the preliminary draft Convention that the authorities ‘shall have regard to’ the law of the child’s habitual residence, could be regarded as superfluous. However, such a provision would on the one hand underline the fact that there is no question of applying that law, but merely of using it as a means of evaluating the conduct of the parties (…)” (emphasis added)

In a similar vein, judicial or administrative decisions on custody rights, the breach of which entails the wrongfulness of the removal (or of the retention, as the case may be), are not really recognized, but work as a piece of proof in the proceedings at the requested State:

… while on the other hand, in so far as it applied to decisions which could underlie the custody rights that had been breached, it would make the Convention appear to be a sort of lex specialis, according to which those decisions would receive effect indirectly in the requested State, an effect which would not be made conditional on the obtaining of an exequatur or any other method of recognition of foreign judgments.

There is no way to dispute the usefulness of Article 14 in practice. I have more doubts regarding the correctness of the conceptual distinction between “applying” a foreign law and “taking [it] into account” (which is usually understood as taking into account “as a matter of act”). The operations are possibly the same in nature; the difference between them, just a question of degree. Furthermore, I believe that in the context of Article 14 foreign law is actually applied. The conduct of the parties cannot be evaluated without looking into what that law prescribes; the authority in the requested State draws the corresponding consequences as to who is the holder of the rights of custody in the case at hand. The assessment of the parties’ conduct comes afterwards. In the same vein, I believe that a decision on custody rights is recognized, in the proper sense of the term, as a decision, and not as a piece of documentary evidence.

What makes the difference is therefore not “what is done” with the foreign law/foreign decision in the context of child abduction. It is rather the limited goal of the application of that law, and of the recognition of the foreign decision, which allows to proceed without resorting to the specific procedures for the proof of foreign law (or for the recognition of foreign decisions), which would normally apply.

Be it as it may, what really matters is what the alternative method – that of taking notice directly of the law of, and of judicial or administrative decisions, of the State of habitual residence of the child before removal or retention- means vis-à-vis quality. That foreign law is not, strictly speaking, applied, does not entail a lesser need for certainty about its contents. The authority in the requested State does indeed not determine the rights of custody. However, her understanding of the foreign legal system is not innocuous: it has immediate effects on the child in terms of return/not return, and therefore, of residence; these, in turn, affect the question of international jurisdiction for a claim on the merits. Furthermore, the view of the requested authority on the custody issue sets a precedent (in a non-technical sense, for it is not binding) for future discussions about parental responsibility.

The assumption that Article 14 supports lower standards of proof of the foreign law (and more lenient conditions of recognition) is only this: an assumption. To date, INCADAT lists 39 national decisions on the provision. In fact, in some of them Article 14 is simply mentioned . The remaining decisions have been rendered in different jurisdictions (Austria, Canada, France, Germany, Israel, US, Switzerland): the sample is hence not good enough for a study aimed at finding out the differences with the usual methods to ascertain foreign law, nor to make any assessment about quality.

Still, it might not be a useless effort. For, if Article 14 proves to work, it may be worth trying it elsewhere (the suggestion, with a question mark, is actually from Professor Beaumont).

The Russian Legal Information Agency has announced that Russia’s Justice Ministry, acting jointly with the Foreign Ministry and the Supreme Court of the Russian Federation, proposed that the Government pass a recommendation to sign the Convention of 2 July 2019 on the Recognition and Enforcement of Foreign Judgments in Civil or Commercial Matters (the ‘Convention’).

Although there were previously fake news circulating on the internet in this respect, it seems that Russia may well ratify the Convention or, at the very least, that Russian elites are contemplating doing so.

But why would Russia do that?

According to the Russian Agency, the answer seems to be that Russia would want to “create conditions for the recognition and enforcement of decisions taken by Russian courts in all [contracting States] of the new Convention.”

So, Russia hopes to improve the enforcement of Russian judgments abroad. This seems quite logical. Improving the enforcement of the forum’s judgments abroad is a common rationale for entering into bilateral treaties on the enforcement of foreign judgments and for having a reciprocity requirement in the forum’s law of foreign judgments.

There is, however, a downside: by entering into a treaty on the enforcement of foreign judgments, the contracting States also commit themselves to enforcing judgments rendered by other contracting States. In other words, if Russia ratifies the 2019 Convention, it will also promise to enforce in Russia judgments rendered by the courts of other contracting States.

The Russian law of foreign judgments is not liberal. The basic rule is that Russia only enforces judgments on the basis of a treaty. While Russian courts have sometimes accepted to enforce foreign judgments in the absence of treaty under the principle of comity, Russian law remains conservative in this respect.

In contrast, many other States have a very liberal law of foreign judgments, and have enforced Russian judgements on the basis of their common law of foreign judgments, without caring for any form of reciprocity. These liberal States include, among many others, the United States and France. In the US, in particular, courts have enforced Russian judgments on numerous occasions (in 2018, Russian judgments were enforced by New York and California courts, for instance). The 2019 Convention will not improve the prospects of enforcement of Russian judgments in those states.

So the main effect of entering into the 2019 Convention may well be that Russia will commit to enforce judgments that it would not enforce today. In other words, the 2019 Convention would certainly liberalize the Russian law of foreign judgments, but it is unclear to which extent it would improve the enforcement of Russian judgments abroad.

Surely, there are other States with a conservative law of foreign judgments. If these other States ratify the Convention, Russia will have improved the prospects of enforcing its judgments in these states. But who are these states and are they planning to sign the 2019 Convention? And are these states Significant trading partners of Russia? Otherwise, why should Russia care?

Germany is no doubt one of the biggest trading partners of Russia, and there is a reciprocity requirement under the German law of foreign judgments. Maybe German courts have denied enforcement to Russian judgments, but maybe they have considered that the prospects of enforcement of German judgments in Russia were such that German courts should enforce Russian judgments. Our German readers will tell.

A major judicial partner of Russia has been, lately, England. The English common law of judgments is pretty conservative, in particular with respect to the assessment of the jurisdiction of foreign courts. Because of Brexit, England is likely to sign the 2019 Convention. By entering into the Convention as well, the enforcement of Russian judgments in England would then improve. This might be enough of an incentive for Russia to enter into the Convention.

It would be great news for the rest of the world if Russia ratified the 2019 Judgments Convention. Whether it would be good news for Russia remains to be seen.

NOTE: The Russian journal Pravovedenie has issued a call for papers on Recognition and enforcement of foreign judgments: problems and prospects: see here.

The EAPIL Blog hosts today two posts on the ruling of the Court of Justice in E.E., a case regarding the Succession Regulation decided on 16 July 2020. The first post, by Matthias Lehmann, appeared this morning. The second post, by Carlos Santaló Goris, a research fellow at the MPI Luxembourg and a Ph.D. candidate at the University of Luxembourg, is featured below.


Introduction  

On 16 July 2020, the Court of Justice of the European Union (“CJEU”) delivered its sixth judgment on Regulation No 650/2012 (the Succession Regulation): C-80/19, E. E.

The preliminary reference allowed the CJEU to address several questions about the
Succession Regulation’s rules on jurisdiction, applicable law, and recognition and enforcement. It also gave the CJEU the opportunity to clarify certain elements of the Succession Regulation: some of them new (such as the determination of the habitual residence), others already familiar to the Court (e.g. are notaries ‘courts’ for the purposes of the Succession Regulation?).

Facts of the Case and Questions Referred

E.E.’s mother – the deceased – was a Lithuanian national who, in 2013, got married to a German national and moved to Germany. The same year she made a will before a Lithuanian notary. In 2017, she passed away in Germany. E.E., also of Lithuanian nationality, requested a notary in Kaunas (Lithuania) to open the succession and issue a certificate of succession rights. The notary rejected the requests arguing the deceased was habitually resident in Germany: therefore, according to the jurisdictional rules of the Succession Regulation, it was up to German authorities to open the succession. E.E. challenged the notary’s refusal. The case ended up before the Supreme Court of Lithuania, which referred the following questions to the CJEU:

(1) Is a situation such as that in the case under examination — in which a Lithuanian national whose habitual place of residence on the day of her death was possibly in another Member State, but who in any event had never severed her links with her homeland, and who, inter alia, had drawn up, prior to her death, a will in Lithuania and left all of her assets to her heir, a Lithuanian national, and at the time of the opening of the succession it was established that the entire estate comprised immovable property located solely in Lithuania, and a national of that other Member State surviving his spouse expressed in clear terms his intention to waive all claims to the estate of the deceased, did not take part in the court proceedings brought in Lithuania, and consented to the jurisdiction of the Lithuanian courts and the application of Lithuanian law — to be regarded as a succession with cross-border implications within the meaning of [the Succession Regulation]?

(2) Is a Lithuanian notary who opens a succession case, issues a certificate of succession rights and carries out other actions necessary for the heir to assert his or her rights to be regarded as a ‘court’ within the meaning of Article 3(2) of [the Regulation]?

(3) If the second question is answered in the affirmative, are certificates of succession rights issued by Lithuanian notaries to be regarded as being decisions within the meaning of Article 3(1)(g) of [the Succession Regulation] and must jurisdiction for that reason be established for the purpose of issuing them?

(4) If the second question is answered in the negative, should the provisions of Articles 4 and 59 of [the Succession Regulation] be construed as meaning that Lithuanian notaries are entitled to issue certificates of succession rights without following general rules on jurisdiction and that such certificates will be held to be authentic instruments which also give rise to legal consequences in other Member States?

(5) Must Article 4 of [the Succession Regulation] (or other provisions thereof) be construed as meaning that the habitual place of residence of the deceased can be established in only one specific Member State?

Should the provisions of Articles 4, 5, 7 and 22 of [the Regulation] be construed and applied in such a way that, in the present case, in accordance with the facts as set out in the first question, it must be concluded that the parties concerned agreed that the courts in Lithuania should have jurisdiction and that Lithuanian law should be applied?

One or More Habitual Residence(s), and Where?

The CJEU addressed first whether a deceased may have more than one habitual residence for the purposes of the Succession Regulation. Indeed, in the case at hand, there were data suggesting that the habitual residence of the de cujus could have been located in two Member States: she had lived for a while in Germany when she passed away, but she held Lithuanian nationality and all her assets were in Lithuania. However, the CJEU made it clear that there can be only one habitual residence. A different answer would lead to a fragmented succession, something that the Succession Regulation aims at avoiding (para. 41).

Was the habitual residence of the deceased in Germany, or rather in Lithuania? The Regulation itself acknowledges that determining the place of habitual residence is not always easy. Some domestic courts have already struggled with this issue. The CJEU relies on the guidance offered by the Regulation’s Preamble, Recitals 23 and 24, inviting the referring court to consider both in order to establish the habitual residence of the deceased in the case at hand.

It is here submitted that by relying on the recitals, the CJEU has vested them with some kind of normative value. From now on, domestic authorities shall consider recitals 23 and 24 of the Succession Regulation when confronted with the need to determine the habitual residence of a deceased. Moreover, the Court’s reasoning indicates how to apply the recitals. First, the national authorities shall rely on Recital 23 to try and establish a close and stable connection with a Member State, taking into account both subjective factors (e.g., why the deceased lived in that Member State) and objective factors (e.g., how long the deceased spent in that Member State). Only if they fail can domestic authorities rely on Recital 24 and consider other data, such as the nationality or the location of the assets.

A Succession with Cross-border Implications?

The CJEU was asked as well whether the succession of E.E.’s mother qualified as one with cross-border implications. Indeed, as the CJEU recalls, the Succession Regulation only applies to such successions (paras. 34 – 35). However, there is no definition of what the European legislator meant by ‘cross-border implications.’ In this sense, the CJEU states: “it must be assessed whether the succession has a cross-border nature due to the location of another element of it in a State other than that of the deceased’s last habitual residence” (para. 42). But what are these other elements? In a non-exhaustive manner, the CJEU referred to the location of the deceased’s assets in a Member State other than the one of habitual residence of the deceased (para. 43). Therefore, in the present case, the succession of E.E.’s mother would fall under the scope of the Regulation if Germany prevails as “habitual residence”, for the estate assets (an apartment) are located in Lithuania.

By contrast, if ultimately (very unlikely, though) the national court prefers Lithuania as place of habitual residence, both the assets and habitual residence would be located in the same Member State. Would the succession be a purely internal one, then? The question arises whether other factors confer a cross-border dimension to a succession; the E.E. judgment is of little help here. Instead, one should look at the AG Opinion, where reference is made as well to the heirs’ habitual residence as a significant element to determine the succession’s cross-border implications (para. 65). In the present case, both potential heirs (E.E. and his stepfather) had their habitual residence in Germany. Therefore, should the deceased’s habitual residence be deemed to be Lithuania, the succession would still be one of interest for the Regulation.

Nothing New Concerning (Lithuanian) Notaries

The referring court also asks whether Lithuanian notaries are “courts” within the meaning of the Succession Regulation. A positive answer would have meant that they are subject to the Succession Regulation’s jurisdictional rules. The question is not new for the CJEU. In C-658/17, WB, a similar one had been referred concerning Polish notaries. The CJEU answered in the negative: the Polish notaries lack “judicial functions” (para. 61), i.e., “the power to rule of [their] own motion on possible points of contention between the parties concerned“(para. 55).

The CJEU applied the same logic in E.E. It appears from its reasoning that Lithuanian notaries in functions like the one deployed in the case at stake are not courts within the meaning of Article 3 of the Succession Regulation (para. 53). However, the CJEU does not say it so in so many words, but leaves it to the referring court to decide (para. 54).

Since the CJEU follows WB, the same critical remarks the judgment has met within scholarly circles will probably apply to E.E.. The CJEU did not fully elaborate on the notion of court, but simply referred to one of the characteristics mentioned in Article 3(2). Additionally, the notion of “jurisdictional functions” retained appears to be inconsistent with C-20/17, Oberle, where the CJEU ruled that the issuance of a domestic certificate of succession by a German court was subject to the Succession Regulation’s jurisdictional rules, in spite of the fact that the proceeding were not “judicial” in the sense of WB (and, now, E.E.). Several scholars have expressed their surprise that a certificate of succession rendered by a German court fall within the Succession Regulation’s jurisdictional scheme, but one rendered by a Lithuanian or a Polish notary does not.

One may wonder whether E.E. was actually a suitable occasion to work out a comprehensive notion of “court”. True, in E.E., the question was formulated in slightly broader terms than in WB. In the latter, the referring court asked whether a Polish notary issuing a certificate of succession is a ‘court’. Conversely, in the latter, the referring court asked whether a Lithuanian notary was a court when it “issues a certificate of succession rights and carries out other actions necessary for the heir to assert his or her rights.” This notwithstanding, it seems that Lithuanian and Polish notaries are quite similar. Thus, it is not surprising that the CJEU followed the same approach. There might be better occasions to address the issue again.

The Lithuanian Certificate of Succession: Judgment or Authentic Instrument?

The CJEU was also requested to determine whether a Lithuanian domestic certificate of succession was a judgment (if notaries are regarded as courts), or an authentic instrument (if notaries are not regarded as courts). The Court explored both possibilities:

Should the notaries be “courts” in the sense of the Regulation, they would be subject to its jurisdictional rules (para. 62), and the national certificate of succession would be a judgment within the meaning of Article (para. 63).

Conversely, if notaries are not ‘courts’, the certificate of succession would be an ‘authentic instrument,’ as long as it fulfils the characteristics imposed by the Succession Regulation on this type of instruments (paras. 72 – 73).

The CJEU’s outcome is hardly surprising considering that it had already explored this point in WB, on the Polish domestic certificate of succession.

The Parties’ Autonomy

In principle, under the Succession Regulation, the courts’ jurisdiction and the applicable law corresponds to the Member State of the deceased’s habitual residence. However, the Regulation grants a certain degree of autonomy to the deceased and to the heirs to opt for a different applicable law and another jurisdiction, respectively. This freedom is nonetheless limited: the deceased can only choose the law of the State his/her nationality (Article 22); the heirs can only opt for the courts of a Member State whose law had been chosen by the deceased (Article 5, Article 7). In E.E., the referring court was uncertain as to whether the deceased had actually opted for the law of her nationality, and the heirs for the jurisdiction of the Lithuanian courts.

Concerning the applicable law, E.E.’s mother had not expressly chosen the law of her nationality. Nonetheless, Article 83(4) of the Regulation creates a fiction according to which “if a disposition of property upon death was made prior to 17 August 2015 in accordance with the law which the deceased could have chosen in accordance with this Regulation, that law shall be deemed to have been chosen as the law applicable to the succession”. Since E.E.’s mother drew up her will before a Lithuanian notary in 2013 according to Lithuanian law, the fiction applies (para. 26) .

Lithuanian law being applicable, the referring court wondered if the potential heirs (E.E. and the deceased’s husband) had chosen the jurisdiction of Lithuanian courts. According to the Succession Regulation they could have done it through a choice-of-court agreement (Article 5); or through express declarations in which they accepted the jurisdiction of the court seized (Article 7). In the present case, unilateral declarations had been made by the deceased’s husband in Germany waiving any claim to the estate, consenting to the jurisdiction of the Lithuanian court and refusing to enter an appearance before it in the proceedings under way in that State. It is clear that these declarations do not amount to an Article 5 choice-of-agreement (para. 85); could they be an “express declaration” in the sense of Article 7? One more time, the CJEU leaves the question open, to be decided by the referring court. AG Campos Sánchez-Bordona went a step further, suggesting a flexible reading of the party’s autonomy. In his words, “it is appropriate to recall that the Regulation must not be read in such a way as to prevent parties from settling a succession out of court in a Member State which they have chosen, if that is possible under the law of that Member State” (para. 122).

Overall Assessment

E.E. will hardly be seen as a landmark case on the Succession Regulation. The main contribution/output of this judgment is the elaboration on an autonomous concept of “habitual residence”, based on the Preamble of the Regulation; and the characterization of Article 83(4) as a fiction, and not a presumption. Beyond that, the answer to the other questions is relatively basic, sometimes even disappointing . The CJEU either relies on what it had already said in previous cases without moving forward (e.g., Oberle; WB); or it paraphrases the text of the Succession Regulation. The referring court may find the AG’s Opinion more instructive than the judgment: something not unusual, and – even if not aimed at by the CJUE’s procedural and estructural rules- a good example of teamwork.

At any rate, E.E. remains an interesting case in that it reflects common difficulties faced by the domestic authorities when dealing with the Succession Regulation.

The EAPIL Blog hosts today two posts on the ruling of the Court of Justice in E.E., a case regarding the Succession Regulation decided on 16 July 2020. Matthias Lehmann and Carlos Santaló Goris, the authors of the two contributions, approach the judgment from different angles and express different views (the post by Carlos Santaló Goris will be out later today). Readers are encouraged to join the discussion!


Sometimes the Directorates for Legal Translations of the Court can take forever to translate a judgment into the other official languages. The bottleneck is increasingly the English language, as there seems to be a draught of English interpreters. An illustration of the phenomenon is the judgment in E.E. (Case C-80/19), which was rendered on 16 July 2020, and for which, to this day, no English translation is yet available.

This should not stop us from taking a closer look at the judgment. In fact, it is the first one to deal with several fundamental issues of the Succession Regulation. Let’s take them one by one after having recapitulated the facts.

Facts

A Lithuanian national had married a German national and lived with him in Germany. In 2013 she made a will before a notary in Lithuania, designating her son E.E. as her only heir. When she died, her estate basically consisted of a piece of real estate in Lithuania.

After the death of his mother, E.E. applied to a Lithuanian notary for a certificate of succession. The notary refused to deliver it on the ground that the deceased’s habitual residence had been in Germany. E.E. brought a claim against the notary before the Lithuanian tribunals. During the proceedings, the German spouse of the deceased declared to have no interest in the succession and agreed to the jurisdiction of the Lithuanian tribunals.

Based on these facts, the Lithuanian Supreme Court decided to refer a number of preliminary questions to the CJEU.

Succession with Cross-Border Implications

The first question raised related to the applicability of the Succession Regulation. The Lithuanian Supreme Court asked whether a succession like the one underlying the reference for preliminary ruling could be considered as having cross-border implications. The notion “succession with cross-border implications” is not used in the rules of the Regulation, but rather in its Preamble (Recitals 1, 7 and 67) as well as in the legal basis on which the Regulation was enacted (Art. 81 TFEU).

To ask whether a case like the present one has cross-border implications may seem factitious, given that the deceased had lived in Germany and owned an asset in Lithuania.

But the Lithuanian Supreme Court highlighted that despite having her last habitual residence in Germany, the deceased had never broken her links with her country of origin, where she had drawn up a will and were almost all her estate was located. The referring court therefore also raised the (fifth) question whether the habitual residence of the deceased can only be located in a specific Member State.

This implied the possibility of multiple habitual residences under the Regulation, which would have been ground-breaking indeed.

The CJEU takes the opportunity to underline that the Regulation is built on the concept of a single habitual residence of the deceased (para 40). Any other interpretation would lead to a fragmentation of the succession (para 41).

Unsurprisingly, the Court of Justice found that a succession has cross-border implications where the habitual residence of the deceased and her major assets were located in different Member States (para 45). One might even say that this is a paradigm case falling within the scope of the Regulation. Thus, the first and the fifth questions were essentially smokescreens which were easily dealt with by the court.

Notion of Court, Scope of Jurisdictional Rules and Authentic Instruments

The next set of questions (2 to 4) concerned the jurisdiction of the notary to issue an authentic instrument of succession.

The CJEU first clarified helpfully that a Lithuanian notary is not to be regarded as a “court” within the meaning of Art. 3(2) of the Regulation because it does not have the right to exercise judicial functions (para 54). The only exception is where it acted pursuant to a delegation of power by a judicial authority or under the control of such an authority (para 55). The CJEU left it to the national court to ascertain whether this is the case.

If the notary is not to be regarded as a court – which seems highly likely –, she would not be bound by the rules on jurisdiction enshrined in Art. 4 to 19 of the Regulation (paras 66 and 80). In particular, she can issue a national succession certificate regardless of the habitual residence of the deceased (para 80).

The Court rightly emphasises in this context that the principle of unity of succession is not absolute (para 69). Nothing therefore stops authorities from different Member States to issue certificates regarding the same succession. Article 64 of the Regulation is an outlier because it concerns the European Certificate Succession, which indeed can only be issued by the authorities of one Member State (para 70).

Although the notary issuing a national certificate of succession is not bound by the rules on jurisdiction of the Regulation, the authentic instrument she issues under national law will have the same evidentiary effects in other Member States as it has in the Member State of origin (paras 75 to 77). This is clearly set out in Art. 59 of the Regulation, which has no link whatsoever to the provisions regarding jurisdiction in Art. 4 to 19 of the Regulation. National authentic instruments will therefore freely circulate within the Union independently of the Member State in which they are made.

Testamentary Choice of Law

 Perhaps the most interesting part of the decision (question 6) concerns the conditions of a choice of law in a will. The deceased had drawn up the will in Lithuania before the entry into force of the Regulation in 2015. The Court concludes that this disposition is deemed to be a choice of law under Art. 83(4) of the Regulation given that the will was made in accordance with Lithuanian law.

Interestingly, the Court bases the conclusion that the will was made “in accordance with Lithuanian law” on the simple fact that the will was made in Lithuania. No other conditions, such as an expression of the testator’s intent or an allusion or reference to the law of Lithuania in the text of the will, seem to be required.

This generous interpretation by the Court greatly facilitates the determination of a choice of law before the entry into force of the Regulation. In future cases, it will be sufficient to prove that the will has been made before a notary of a certain Member State in order to show that the deceased chose the law of this Member State.

Conclusion

Even bad references can make good law. The CJEU has used the opportunity of the somewhat confused reference for preliminary ruling by the Lithuanian Supreme Court to clarify some important issues regarding the Succession Regulation. In particular, it is now clear that a single habitual residence of the deceased has to be identified, that notaries issuing national certificates of succession are not bound by the rules on jurisdiction of the Regulation, and that wills made before a notary prior to the entry into force of the Regulation amount to a choice of the law of the notary’s Member State. If we could finally get this decision in English, the situation would be even clearer. 

On 2 September 2020, the French Supreme Court for private and criminal matters (Cour de cassation) issued an interesting decision on both service of judicial documents and international jurisdiction (Cass., First Civil Chamber, 2 September 2020, no. 19-15.337, unreported).

Although elementary at first view, the case provides a good opportunity to discuss the global understanding and acceptance of European private international law rules by French courts.

Facts and Legal Issues at Stake

Private investors living in France suffered financial losses following financial services contracts concluded with a company governed by English law, established in London. They sued the company before French courts. Despite an agreement conferring jurisdiction in favour of English courts provided for in the general conditions, the Parisian tribunal accepted its jurisdiction. The Parisian Court of appeal confirmed the judgement. The company appealed to the French Supreme Court.

First, the company disputed, on the basis of (inter alia) the Service of documents Regulation, the validity of the writ of summons which was served to the branch manager of the company in France, pursuant domestic procedural rules and not at its head office in London. Second, the company challenged the French jurisdiction by virtue of the jurisdiction clause, pursuant Brussels I bis Regulation, while the first judges had applied the French jurisdictional rules to invalidate the clause.

Were these two EU regulations the relevant legal basis in this case, instead of the domestic PIL rules?

Response of the French Supreme Court

Responding to the first litigious item, the French Supreme Court precludes the application of the Service of documents Regulation and confirms the decision of the Court of appeal. The presence in France of a representative of the foreign company eliminates the cross-border dimension of the transmission of documents. Therefore, the transmission of the writ of summons to the branch manager of the company in France was valid since it complied with French domestic procedural law. Then, regarding the competent jurisdiction, the validity of the agreement conferring jurisdiction shall be assessed pursuant Brussels I bis Regulation and not pursuant to national PIL. EU law prevails on national rules. The French Supreme Court invalidates the decision of the Parisian Court of appeal on that latter ground.

Assessment

Behind these two legal issues, the case deals with the articulation between EU and national PIL rules. Despite the well-known principle of primacy of EU law, French judges still have difficulties to implement EU PIL. More globally, they are maybe not fully aware of the multilevel sources in the field and, in particular, how their articulation works

But why? How could we explain this “judicial malfunction” regarding EU PIL? Without being dramatic, nor prophetic, I would like to suggest two possible lines of thought.

 On the Service of Documents Regulation

The non-application of the Service of documents Regulation is not surprising regarding the case law of the French Supreme Court. The Commercial Chamber of the Court ruled exactly the same in 2012, regarding another London-based company having a representative in France (Comm. Chamber, 20 November 2012, no. 11-17.653). Domestic procedural rules on service of documents regain the upper hand thanks to the legal representation ad agendumin France. But the French Supreme Court does not give any explicit grounds for its ruling regarding EU law. The European Regulation is set aside without consistent legal explanations. It surely contributes to the lack of awareness of French judges regarding EU PIL instruments in procedural and cooperation matters.

Some scholars have mentioned an implicit reference to recital 8 of the Regulation, which lays down that it “should not apply to service of a document on the party’s authorised representative in the Member State where the proceedings are taking place regardless of the place of residence of that party”. Recital 8 should provide for a kind of subsidiarity of the European regime on cross-border transmission of documents, vis-à-vis national rules.

However, the European Court of Justice had the opportunity to clarify the scope of this recital in Adler (C-325/11). The ECJ ruled that

from a systematic interpretation of the regulation […] [it] provides for only two circumstances in which the service of a judicial document between Member States falls outside its scope, namely (i) where the permanent or habitual residence of the addressee is unknown and (ii) where that person has appointed an authorised representative in the Member State where the judicial proceedings are taking place (para 24).

In order to support a uniform application of the regulation, the circumstances in which a judicial document has to be served in another Member State should not be conducted by reference to the national law of the Member State in which the proceedings take place (see paras 26-27). This is, however, the core reasoning of the French Supreme Court.

When should it be considered that the litigant (here the London-based company) has appointed an “authorised representative”? Should the manager of the branch of the company be considered a “representative” within the meaning of the Service of documents Regulation? In the end, the French Supreme Court could have referred a question to the Court of Justice. Its ruling takes the opposite direction.

At least, it shows that a legal explanation from the French Supreme Court of its solution would have not been superfluous.

On the Brussels I bis Regulation

On the contrary, when explaining why French PIL rules are not the relevant legal basis to control the validity of the prorogation, the French Supreme Court  takes a true educational approach towards  the lower courts (see already Civ. First Chamber, 23 January 2008, no. 06-21.898 under Article 23 of Brussels I regulation). The validity of the agreement conferring jurisdiction had to be assessed under Article 25 of the Brussels I bis Regulation, applicable to prorogations of jurisdiction in favour of the national Court of an EU Member State (including the UK at the time of the dispute) in civil and commercial matters.

Why did the lower courts did not apply EU PIL? Quite ironically, the absence of French PIL codification can be an explanation for the faulty reasoning of the lower courts. It should be recalled that the French rules of international jurisdiction do not formally exist. They are the result of an extension of the domestic territorial jurisdiction rules into international disputes (see Civ. First Civil Chamber, 30 October 1962, Scheffel). This could explain why the lower courts applied the French Civil Procedural Code, mixing up domestic and international disputes, and the related applicable procedural rules.

Such a basic legal mistake grounded on the oversight of EU PIL requires all the attention of the French expert group on French PIL codification recently created by the French Ministry of Justice. A future Code should probably recall that the validity of an agreement conferring jurisdiction in a cross-border relationship has to be assessed pursuant supra-national sources, in particular the 2005 Hague Convention and the Brussels I bis Regulation and, by default only, pursuant national PIL rules. Clarity regarding multilevel sources in PIL (and their articulation) is crucial for operational legal practice.

Last but not least, Brexit will add more complexity in such a case as it will require applying the 2005 Hague Convention instead of the Brussels I bis Regulation. The London-based company will have to be regarded as located in a third State which is a Contracting Party to the Convention (Article 26(6) of the 2005 Hague Convention).

French courts, get ready!

This post was written by Giesela Rühl, LL.M. (Berkeley), Humboldt-University of Berlin, and is also available via conflictoflaws.net.


The protection of human rights in global supply chains has been high on the agenda of national legislatures for a number of years. Most recently, also the European Union has joined the bandwagon. After Commissioner for Justice Didier Reynders announced plans to prepare a European human rights to due diligence instrument in April 2020, the JURI Committee of the European Parliament has now published a Draft Report on corporate due diligence and corporate accountability. The Report contains a motion for a European Parliament Resolution and a Proposal for a Directive which will, if adopted, require European companies – and companies operating in Europe – to undertake broad mandatory human rights due diligence along the entire supply chain. Violations will result, among others, in a right of victims to claim damages.

The proposed Directive is remarkable because it amounts to the first attempt of the European legislature to establish cross-sectoral mandatory human rights due diligence obligations coupled with a mandatory civil liability regime. However, from a private international law perspective the Draft Report attracts attention because it also contains proposals to change the Brussels I bis Regulation and the Rome II Regulation. In this post I will briefly discuss – and criticize – the proposed changes to the Rome II Regulation. For a discussion of the changes to the Brussels I bis Regulation I refer to Geert Van Calster’s thoughts on GAVC.

Victims’ Unilateral Right to Choose the Applicable Law

The proposed change to the Rome II Regulation envisions the introduction of a new Article 6a entitled “Business-related human rights claims”. Clearly modelled on Article 7 Rome II Regulation relating to environmental damage the proposal allows victims of human rights violations to choose the applicable law. However, unlike Article 7 Rome II Regulation, which limits the choice to the law of the place of injury and the law of the place of action, the proposed Article 6a allows victims of human rights violations to choose between potentially four different laws, namely

1) the law of the country in which the damage occurred, i.e. the law of the place of injury,

2) the law of the country in which the event giving rise to damage occurred, i.e. the law of the place of action,

3) the law of the country in which the parent company has its domicile or, where the parent company does not have a domicile in a Member State,

4) the law of the country where the parent company operates.

The rationale behind the proposed Article 6a Rome II Regulation is clear: The JURI Committee tries to make sure that the substantive provisions of the proposed Directive will actually apply – and not fall prey to Article 4(1) Rome II Regulation which, in typical supply chain cases, leads to application of the law of the host state in the Global South and, hence, non-EU law. By allowing victims to choose the applicable law, notably the law of the (European) parent company the JURI Committee takes up recommendations that have been made in the literature over the past years.

However, a right to choose the applicable law ex post – while certainly good for victims – is conceptually ill-conceived because it results in legal uncertainty for all companies that try to find out ex ante what their obligations are. Provisions like the proposed Article 6a Rome II Regulation, therefore, fundamentally impair the deterrence function of tort law and increase compliance costs for companies because they have to adjust their behaviour to four – potentially – different laws to avoid liability. It is for this reason that choice of law rules that allow one party to unilaterally choose the applicable law ex post have largely (even though not completely) fallen out of favour.

Alternative Roads to European law

The proposed Article 6a Rome II Regulation, however, does not only fail to convince conceptually. It also fails to convince as regards to the purpose that it seeks to achieve. In fact, there are much better ways to ensure that European standards apply in supply chain cases. The most obvious way is to simply adopt the envisioned European instrument in the form of a Regulation. Its provisions would then have to be applied as international uniform law by all Member State courts – irrespective of the provisions of the Rome II Regulation. However, even if the European legislature prefers to adopt a European instrument in the form of a Directive – for political or competence reasons –, no change of the Rome II Regulation is necessary to ensure that it is applied throughout Europe. In fact, its provisions can simply be classified as overriding mandatory provisions in the meaning of Article 16 Rome II Regulation. The national provisions implementing the Directive will then apply irrespective of the otherwise applicable law.

In the light of the above, application of European human rights due diligence standards can be ensured without amending the Rome II Regulation. It is, therefore, recommended that the JURI Committee rethinks – and then abandons – the proposed Article 6a Rome II Regulation.

indexOn 14 August 2020, the Department of European and Comparative Procedural Law of the MPI Luxembourg met online with a special invitee, Steven Gee QC, joining actually from Hong Kong, where he was staying at the time.

Mr. Gee is the author of a treatise on, and entitled, Commercial Injunctions (Sweet & Maxwell, last edition 2016, a new updated one in the making). The book is mainly about UK law but at the end it addresses as well other jurisdictions. This is why Mr. Gee got in touch with the MPI (Prof. Burkhard Hess and Dr. Vincent Richard will contribute to the European part of the next edition of Commercial Injunctions), and how he ended up sharing with the researchers and MPI guests a two-hours talk on injunctions.

I thought his presentation and the following debate had been recorded but, unfortunately, it had not. Therefore, I cannot accurately report on the contents. What I can do, though, is to explain here an idea I had already in mind and was, to some extent, confirmed by Mr. Gee during the discussion.

It has to do with antisuit injunctions and the preliminary reference sent to the Court of Justice last December by the Court of Appeal (England & Wales), on the interpretation of Article 4(1) of the Brussels I bis Regulation (C-946/19). At the time I am writing these lines a settlement has been reached between the litigants in the main proceedings, and the request consequently withdrawn. A fact which strengthens my dismayed suspicion that the whole thing was a practical joke on the Court of Justice (but not only). Of course, I know I am exaggerating and, regarding the intentions of the referring court, wrong. This notwithstanding: a request relating to antisuit injunctions, i.e., to one of the most distinctive institutions of the common law tradition, already firmly rejected by the Court of Justice in ad intra situations; asking whether the injunction could (rather: had to) be mandatorily (no discretion!) granted on the basis of a crucial provision of a pivotal EU instrument [article 4(1) of the Brussels I bis Regulation], in ad extra situations (an invitation to indulge in “eurocentrism”?); sent to the Court of Justice barely one month before Brexit (and twelve months away from the end of the transitional period)? Some eyebrows have surely gone up.

The doubts of the national court regarding Article 4(1) of the Regulation read as follow:

whether the true effect of the Article is to give a right to every defendant who is domiciled in a Member State to be sued exclusively in the State of their domicile in all but the slender circumstances where that outcome is specifically excluded or some other outcome is permitted by the Judgments Regulation itself.

As a matter of fact, the Court of Appeal looked rather keen on answering in the affirmative [at 50]: ‘we acknowledge that [the antisuit injunction applicant’s] interpretation of the meaning and effect of Article 4(1) is a possible interpretation’.

The actual ground for referring the question to the Court of Justice had rather to do with the consequences of spousing such view [id. loc.]: ‘[…] but it is not one [interpretation] that we would wish to adopt in the present case unless required to do so’. Should Article 4(1) create a directly enforceable right, the Court of Appeal feared its breach would automatically lead to an antisuit injunction [id. loc.]: ‘[an]  extreme result[s] that would not be contemplated by an application of domestic law’.

In the case at hand, the Court of Appeal had already confirmed the first instance determinations in the sense that previous national case law on employment contracts, according to which Article 20(1) of the Brussels I Regulation and Article 22(1) of the Brussel I bis Regulation create a right protecting the employee against being sued in a third State by his employer, was not binding on it.

My experience with English practitioners and academics is that they do have a good knowledge and understanding of EU law. That Article 4(1) of the Brussels I bis Regulation is not meant to confer an individual right is something the referring court could have easily concluded itself, without asking Luxembourg.

We – scholars- tend to be thorough and go to the bottom of the arguments: legislative intention based on history (not just the very illustrative Jenard and Schlosser Reports, but, here, also the rich publication of GAL Droz on the Brussels Convention, and all those he quotes); text; system; object and purpose of the provision; legal comparison. But for the sitting judges to decide on the dispute at stake, a look at Article 4(1) in a language other than English, coupled with a comparison between the rationale of the provisions on employment contracts and of Article 4(1), should have been enough if they wanted to move forward keeping the reasoning sober.

On the occasion of the MPI’s meeting mentioned above, Mr. Gee’s stressed a factor of the proceedings before the Court of Appeal that may help understanding the situation; he highlighted the asymmetry between the parties to the dispute. Throughout the proceedings before the Judge, both parties had been represented by solicitors and by leading and junior counsel. Before the Court of Appeal it remained so regarding the antisuit injunction’s applicant, but not the defendant, who did neither attend nor was represented, due to, allegedly, financial inability. The Court had only the written submissions previously made by his legal team to resist the antisuit injunction. They may have been enough to convince the first instance Judge not to grant the injunction; but before the Court of Appeal, and against the (slightly) more sophisticated (and, by all means, radical) submissions of Mr Cohen QC on behalf of the applicant at the hearing, he probably needed to do better.

As indicated, the case will no longer keep the Court of Justice busy. My (strictly) personal view remains that the preliminary reference was a practical joke: on the Court of Justice, and on second thought also on the Court of Appeal. Both seem to have been strategically used by one of the litigants.

In any event, I expect academics to study further the questions referred in C-946/19. For sure, I do not see any individual right “hidden” in Article 4(1) of the Brussels I bis Regulation. But, contrary to some scholars’ views (A. Dickinson, C.M. Clarkson and J. Hill, following A. Briggs) I believe other provisions in the Regulation may be interpreted in that way: not because they were conceived with the purpose of conferring directly enforceable rights upon persons domiciled in a Member State, but because such understanding of the jurisdictional grounds would help ensuring that specific substantive EU law is effective also extraterritorially, where needed.

(NoA: MPI Department I “Referentenrunde” have been resumed on the usual weekly basis every Wednesday via Zoom. A series of lectures is foreseen for the fall; specific dates will be announced in due time through the MPI website. Events are open to all having an interest. Contact person: michalis.spyropoulos@mpi.lu)

Jorg Sladič is an associate professor of international and European law at the European faculty of law in Ljubljana (Slovenia). He was a member of the European Commission’s expert group on modernisation of judicial cooperation in civil and commercial matters. This post is based on an article to be published shortly in the Revue des affaires européennes (L’obtention de preuves en matière civile et commerciale dans l’espace judiciaire européen : status quaestionis et la réforme envisagée, RAE 2020/1, pp. 191 – 212).


Taking of evidence abroad is hampered not only by foreign languages, distances etc. The scope of application ratione loci of a given law of civil procedure is limited by the principle of territoriality. Therefore the gathering of evidence in a pending civil proceedings before a forum is limited by the forum’s traditional inherent inability to perform judicial activities abroad. However, Europe is changing. Therefore an assessment of the principle of territoriality in the law of civil procedure is required.

1. Evidence Taking in Civil Procedure in Continental Europe as acta jure imperii

In the EU, judicial cooperation in civil and commercial matters also covers international legal assistance – comprising traditionally the service of judicial and extrajudicial documents abroad and taking of evidence abroad. European rules on cross-border taking of evidence are to be found in the Council Regulation (EC) No 1206/2001 of 28 May 2001 on cooperation between the courts of the Member States in the taking of evidence in civil or commercial matters. The said regulation can be regarded as an update of existing traditional methods of international legal assistance and is heavily influenced by the Hague Convention of 18 March 1970 on the Taking of Evidence Abroad in Civil or Commercial Matters. Even the direct taking of evidence by the requiring forum goes back to influences of the 1970 Hague Convention.

Traditionally a forum from one EU Member State cannot take evidence in other EU Member States. Continental European States consider evidence gathering and taking as acta jure imperii. The Latin maxim judici fit probatio explains it all (see e.g. O. L. Knöffel, Grenzüberschreitende Beweisaufnahme durch Private, in R. Geimer, R. A. Schütze, T. Garber (eds.), Europäische und internationale Dimension des Rechts, Festschrift für Daphne-Ariane Simotta, Vienne, LexisNexis, 2012, p. 333 and 334; M. Virgós Soriano, F. J. Garcimartín Alférez, Derecho procesal civil internacional : litigación internacional, 2nd ed., Madrid, Thomson Reuters, 2007, p. 486; B. Audit, L. D’avout, Droit international privé, 7th ed., Paris, Economica, 2013, par 484). Evidence is taken by the judge (forum). However, in the common law world, evidence is taken by the parties before the judge and not by the judge. Gathering of evidence is rather a private matter left to the parties. However, in all Member States the Regulation is applied under the principle of national procedural autonomy.

This difference between evidence taking as a private matter between the parties or evidence taking as a performance of public authority by a forum is in short also a major part of the of the famous Justizkonflikt between the US and Germany.

Practical aspects of evidence taking abroad were assessed in the 2017 Luxembourg Study (see B. Hess, M. Requejo Isidro, F. Gascón Inchausti, P. Oberhammer, E. Storskrubb, G. Cuniberti, C. Kern, K. Weitz, X. Kramer, An evaluation study of national procedural laws and practices in terms of their impact on the free circulation of judgments and on the equivalence and effectiveness of the procedural protection of consumers under EU consumer law, Report prepared by a Consortium of European universities led by the MPI Luxembourg for Procedural Law as commissioned by the European Commission, JUST/2014/RCON/PR/CIVI/0082, Strand 1, Mutual Trust and Free Circulation of Judgments, Brussels, Luxembourg, 2017, paras 240 – 263).

2. Principle of Territoriality of a Pending Civil Procedure

As judicial functions belong to performance of a public authority of a State, they are not supposed to be performed in an extraterritorial manner (the principle of territoriality of a pending civil procedure). Without going in the famous Lotus case law of the PCIJ the European version (Opinion of Advocate General JÄÄSKINEN, Lippens, C-170/11) of the rule reads as:

29. A court of a Member State can validly exercise its powers and make use of its ‘imperium’, that is to say, its power of enforcement, only within the limits of its geographical jurisdiction. Measures of inquiry are an exception to this rule in that they can be taken over the whole of national territory. Nevertheless, in view of the principle of territoriality in international law, which is linked to the principle of State sovereignty, the court cannot normally take action to enforce such measures in another Member State.

Fn. 44: However, a court ruling on a civil or commercial matter covered by Regulation No 1206/2001 cannot exercise public authority outside the territory of the Member State in which it is situated by carrying out substantive acts necessitating the use of State coercion such as using the State’s police force to bring a party resident in another Member State by force to appear before it.

It might also be added that the principle of territoriality prohibits in the continental legal thinking the recognition of foreign anti-suit injunctions, an issue that will become of importance if post Brexit negotiations do not produce a sufficient PIL framework between the EU and the UK.

According to the Belgian Court of Cassation, Belgian courts can condemn a third party residing in another EU Member State to produce documents in accordance with the Belgian lex fori and even apply the periodic monetary penalties (astreinte). The application of the regulation Nr 1206/200 is not mandatory (Court of Cassation, 1st Chamber, 26 April 2018, case Banque de Luxembourg, n° C.16.0192.N). The Belgian Court of Cassation also ruled quite laconically that it results clearly from the judgment of the Court of Justice in Lippens (C-170/11) that a court of a Member State may condemn a party resident in another Member State to produce a documents before it in accordance with its lex fori and even apply sanctions for non production of documents (Court of Cassation, 1st Chamber, 25 April 2013, aff. Fortis Luxembourg Vie, n° C.11.0103.F/1). However, as far as sanctioning witnesses residing abroad and having defaulted, the situation appears to be different. The Austrian Regional Court of Appeal in Linz dealt with the question of a regularly summoned German witness residing in Germany and not appearing before an Austrian forum (Oberlandesgericht Linz, 5 September 2013, case 3 R 145/13h, ECLI:AT:OLG0459:2013:RL0000147). The forum of first instance issued a heavy fine against the German witness. The appellate court ruled however that, due to the principle of territoriality of the pending civil proceedings, such a witness is not subject to jurisdiction of Austrian courts. An Austrian forum may summon him so that he can appear and testify, however, due to a non-existent duty to testify in another state, such a witness doesn’t have to comply with the summons. A foreign witness who fails to comply with the summons cannot to be sanctioned. Where the evidence is located abroad, an Austrian forum can order that this evidence be transferred to Austria as for example in the case of the summons of a witness – or may within the scope of Regulation No 1206/2001 proceed to the taking of evidence abroad, either through the requested court (Art. 10 and following of the regulation), or directly (art. 17 of the regulation). The regulation does not prevent the forum to summon a witness living abroad. However, means of constraint cannot be applied against such a witness residing abroad.

3. Methods of Taking of Evidence Abroad

It is generally recognised that evidence from abroad is to be gathered according to certain methods (A. Sengstschmid, Die europäische Beweisaufnahme, in P.G. Mayr (ed.), Handbuch des europäischen Zivilverfahrensrechts, Vienna, Manz, 2017, par. 15.1; L. Fumagalli, La disciplina comunitaira dell’assunzione delle prove all’estero in materia civile e commerciale: il regolamento (CE) n. 1206/2001 in S. M. Carbone, M. Frigo, L. Fumagalli, Diritto processuale civile e commerciale comunitario, Milano, Giuffrè, 2004, pp. 169 and 170):

  1. the order of the forum before which the proceedings are pending ordering the parties to transfer themselves the evidence (or the means of evidence) which is located abroad to the forum State;
  2. the active international legal assistance (the requesting court issues a letter rogatory which will be executed by the foreign requested forum according to the lex diligentiae, see Art. 10 of the Regulation Nr. 1206/2001);
  3. the passive international legal assistance (the requesting court performs itself or through its agents directly the taking of evidence abroad according to its own lex fori. In principle, such an approach requires a prior consent of the requested foreign state. There is also the problem of coercive measures adopted by the requesting forum on the territory of the requested State. Such direct taking of evidence is allowed in the EU Under the conditions of Art. 17 of the Regulation Nr. 1206/2001);
  4. videoconferencing or any other modern means of communication where the evidence remains abroad while the proceedings take place before the forum of origin (see Art. 10(4) of the Regulation Nr. 1206/2001);
  5. the taking of evidence is performed in cooperation or dialogue between the requesting forum and the requested forum (see Art. 10(3) and (4) and Art. 12 of the Regulation Nr. 1206/2001));
  6. obtaining evidence through diplomatic officers or consular agents.

Neither obtaining evidence through diplomatic officers or consular agents nor the request of the forum before which the proceedings are pending ordering the parties to transfer themselves the evidence (or the means of evidence) which is located abroad to the forum State are regulated by the Regulation Nr. 1206/2001.

In this framework the Council Statement Nr. 54/01 of 4 July 2001 on Regulation Nr. 1206/2001 shall be mentioned. According to the Council of the EU “The scope of application of this Regulation shall not cover pre-trial discovery, including the so-called “fishing expeditions”.” (Statement, p. 16).

4. Effet utile of the Regulation Nr. 1206/2001 – Is it of American origin?

However, the effet utile of the Regulation Nr. 1206/2001 has lead the Court of Justice in cases Lippens (C-170/11) and ProRail (C-332/11) to construe that text as being optional and facultative.

It would appear that the US Supreme Court’s decision in case Société Nationale Industrielle Aérospatiale et al. V. United States District Court for The Southern District of Iowa 82 U.S. 522 (1987), on the 1970 Hague Convention was a direct though not cited source of the European case-law. According to the US case law the “Convention does not provide exclusive or mandatory procedures for obtaining documents and information located in a foreign signatory’s territory”. “its purpose [is] to “facilitate” discovery and to “improve mutual judicial co-operation.”” “Although they are not mandatory, the Convention’s procedures are available whenever they will facilitate the gathering of evidence, and “apply” in the sense that they are one method of seeking evidence that a court may elect to employ”.

Documents having lead to the Lippens case, especially the opinion of Advocate General before the High Council of the Netherlands (Hoge Raad der Nederlanden, the Dutch Supreme Court) M. P. Vlas of 1st April 2011, ECLI:NL:PHR:2011:BP3048 and the preliminary reference, judgement of the High Council of the Netherlands, 1st Chamber, 1st April 2011, case 10/02071, ECLI:NL:HR:2011:BP3048, show an in-depth assessment of the US Société Nationale Industrielle Aérospatiale case.

The interpretation of facultative and facilitative nature of international instruments on taking of evidence abroad was extended by the CJEU to the Regulation Nr. 1206/2001. Such an interpretation is indeed not a forgone conclusion. If the rigour used to combat conflicts caused created between EU private international law (Brussels Ia Regulation) and national traditions in anti-suit injunctions (Turner, C-159/02, Allianz, C-185/07, Gazprom, C-536/13) and the forum non conveniens doctrine (Owusu, C-281/02) were to be extended also to the Regulation Nr. 1206/2001, then there there could be no space for facilitative nature of the Regulation Nr. 1206/2001 (C. Thole, Kein abschließender Charakter der Europäischen Beweisaufnahmeverordnung, IPrax, Nr. 3/2014, p. 255). Indeed, there are connecting points linking the Regulation on taking of evidence and the Brussels Ia regulation such as exclusion of arbitration (see on that issue B. Hess, Europäisches Zivilprozessrecht, Heidelberg, C.F. Müller, 2010, p. 465; M. Fartunova-Michel, JurisClasseur Europe Traité, fasc. 2800 : Obtention des preuves en matière civile et commerciale – Coopération entre les juridictions des États membres – Règlement (CE) n° 1206/2001 », update 27 May 2019, par. 20). However, the effet utile lead to a different conclusion.

Indeed, the CJEU ruled in Lippens:

according to recitals 2, 7, 8, 10 and 11 in the preamble to Regulation No 1206/2001, the aim of the regulation is to make the taking of evidence in a cross-border context simple, effective and rapid. The taking, by a court of one Member State, of evidence in another Member State must not lead to the lengthening of national proceedings. […]. Thus, it is clear that, in certain circumstances, in particular if the party summoned as a witness is prepared to appear voluntarily, it may be simpler, more effective and quicker for the competent court to hear him in accordance with the provisions of its national law instead of using the means of taking evidence provided for by Regulation No 1206/2001. (paras. 29 and 31)

Finally, the interpretation according to which Regulation No 1206/2001 does not govern exhaustively the taking of cross-border evidence, but simply aims to facilitate it, allowing use of other instruments having the same aim, is supported by Article 21(2) of Regulation No 1206/2001, which expressly authorises agreements or arrangements between Member States to further facilitate the taking of evidence, provided that they are compatible with the regulation. (par 33)

However, the facilitative nature of the Regulation Nr. 1206/2001 is limited by an exception of public powers of EU Member States (see e.g. C. Thole, op. cit., p. 257 ; G. Cuniberti, L’expertise judiciaire en droit judiciaire européen, Rev. crit. DIP, Nr. 3/2015, p. 535 ; M. Fartunova-Michel, op. cit., point 2 ; see in general law of international civil procedure S. Triva, M. Dika, Građansko parnično procesno pravo, Narodne novine, Zagreb, 2004, p. 57 ; A. Maganić, Pravna pomoć u građanskim stvarima između Republike Hrvatske i Republike Makedonije », Zbornik PFZ, 2/2011 p. 245).

Indeed, the CJEU has ruled in ProRail:

47. in so far as the expert designated by a court of a Member State must go to another Member State in order to carry out the investigation which has been entrusted to him, that might, in certain circumstances, affect the powers of the Member State in which it takes place, in particular where it is an investigation carried out in places connected to the exercise of such powers or in places to which access or other action is, under the law of the Member State in which the investigation is carried out, prohibited or restricted to certain persons.

48. In such circumstances, unless the court wishing to order cross-border expert investigation foregoes the taking of that evidence, and in the absence of an agreement or arrangement between Member States within the meaning of Article 21(2) of Regulation No 1206/2001, the method of taking evidence laid down in Articles 1(1)(b) and 17 thereof is the only means to enable the court of a Member State to carry out an expert investigation directly in another Member State.

Such a ruling was then interpreted e.g. by the Belgian Court of Cassation as follows. A plea entirely based on the argument that the forum of a Member State which requires the act of investigation entrusted to an expert to be performed in the territory of another Member State is always required to request a prior authorization of the other Member State in accordance with Article 17 of Regulation (EC) No 1206/2001, without distinguishing according to whether the taking of evidence may or may not have an influence on the powers of this other Member State or according to whether or not there is a convention or regulation within the meaning of the second paragraph of Article 21 of Regulation 1206/2001, is not founded (Court of Cassation, 1st Chamber, 7 November 2013, case C.10.0286.N/1)

5. Reform

The European Commission proposed a reform of the Regulation Nr. 1206/2001. The EAPIL reported extensively on that. As a consequence an indepth assessment in the article was superseded by posterior legal development. Such direct taking of evidence is allowed in the EU under conditions of Art. 17 of the Regulation Nr. 1206/2001.

San Marino, the independent State surrounded by Italy, is home to about 5,000 undertakings. Unsurprisingly, given the size of the country (61 km2) and its population (33,344), a significant part of the business carried out in the small Republic is related to Italy. In fact, it is not infrequent for Italian courts to be seised of disputes opposing businesses based in Italy and San Marino, respectively.

Service of Judicial Documents Between Italy and San Marino

Where this occurs, the issue arises, among others, of the (cross-border) service of the document instituting the proceedings.

San Marino is a party to the 1965 Hague Service Convention, since 2002. Italy, too, is a party to that Convention.

However, the application of the Convention between the two countries is proving problematic, at least in Italy.

The difficulties revolve around the declaration issued by San Marino under Article 21(2)(a) of the Convention, whereby San Marino made known its opposition to service by postal channels. In fact, Article 10(a) stipulates that the Convention ‘shall not interfere with … the freedom to send judicial documents, by postal channels, directly to persons abroad’, provided, however, that ‘the State of destination does not object’.

In practice, the above declaration implies that service on a Sammarinese defendant for the purposes of proceedings in Italy may not occur otherwise than in accordance with Article 3 to 6 of the Convention, i.e. by a request conforming to the model annexed to the Convention itself, forwarded to the Sammarinese Central authority.

The View of the Italian Supreme Court

In a judgment of 29 January 2019 (No. 2482), the Italian Supreme Court ruled that the above declaration could (and in fact ought to) be disregarded. It actually concluded that, in the circumstances of that case, service – made by post on a Sammarinese company – was in all respects valid and effective.

The Supreme Court noted that the Government of San Marino, when acceding to the Convention, issued two separate instruments – the instrument of accession itself, and the declarations accompanying it. But while the former was drawn up in the form of a law, the latter resulted from a mere executive act. The Supreme Court characterised the latter, on account of its form, as an act incapable of affecting the operation of the convention (‘un atto inidoneo a ridurre l’ambito di applicazione alla predetta Convenzione’).

Assessment

The ruling is unpersuasive for a number of reasons.

It is not for the courts of one State to scrutinise the appropriateness of the forms employed by another State’s authorities in their international relations.

This is all the more true for declarations issued by the latter State in respect of a multilateral international convention, such as the Hague Service Convention.

In fact, it is for the depositary of the convention concerned (here, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Netherlands) to assess whether the declarations received are in such a form as to effectively serve their purpose.

It appears that the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Netherlands received the Sammarinese declaration, and recorded it as such. No objections and no remarks have been raised at a diplomatic level concerning that declaration.

According to Article 77(1)(d) and (e) of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, the tasks of the depositary include ‘examining whether the signature or any instrument, notification or communication relating to the treaty is in due and proper form and, if need be, bringing the matter to the attention of the State in question’, and ‘informing the parties and the States entitled to become parties to the treaty of acts, notifications and communications relating to the treaty’. If the declarations of a State were to be reviewed by the other Contracting States individually, this would likely frustrate the function of the depositary and undermine its practical advantages.

One would be tempted to label the Italian Supreme Court’s ruling as unfortunate, and to ignore it altogether.

But this is in fact the second such ruling by the Cassazione. The first one, given on 9 November 2011 (No. 23290), was criticised for the above reasons (including by the author of this post: ‘Sulla notifica degli atti giudiziari mediante la posta secondo la Convenzione dell’Aja del 1965’, Rivista di diritto internazionale privato e processuale (2012), 341-362). The fact is that the Court reiterated its views.

In fact, the stance staken by the Court appears to amount, now, to the official position of the Italian Supreme Court on the (not so firm) value of declarations issued in connection with the Service Convention (and, possibly, in connection with any other multilateral convention contemplating similar instruments).

The author of this post is not aware of any diplomatic protests by the Government of San Marino as regards the Italian Supreme Court’s rulings.

It is hoped that, for the sake of the proper functioning of the Hague Service Convention, the approach be reconsidered at the earliest occasion.

 

– Photo credit: Max_Ryazanov, Wikimedia Commons

Practice shows that we’re far away from a perfect world of cooperation between state authorities in the field of cross-border service of process. This post is not about a judgment dealing with the matter (yet). It is what we call a ‘true story’, and serves as a kind of case study, to understand the variety of unprecedented situations with which courts may have to deal with.

The Facts

A Greek company filed an action against a foreign company, situated in an EU Member State. The claim, its translation, and an application pursuant to Article 4 of the Service Regulation were duly sent by the Transmitting to the Receiving Agency. The latter forwarded the claim to a process server for the purpose of serving the action to its recipient. Following fruitless efforts, the bailiff returned the documents to the court of the state of destination, stating that the respondent was not found in the given address. In particular, so his report, there was no indication that the company had its office there, and no person representing the company or any employee was found in the building. In accordance with domestic law on civil procedure, a hearing took place in camera on the request for service. The court stated that, following official information received, the respondent’s registered seat and postal address was in fact the same with the one stated in the claim form. As a result, and pursuant to Article 50(2) of the Code of Civil Procedure, the documents must be attached to the file, and service shall be deemed as duly made.

On the basis of the above conclusions, the court ordered that a certificate of service in accordance with Article 10 Service Regulation be issued, which should be delivered to the Transmitting Agency, with a true copy of the process server report attached.

The Receiving Agency abided by the order, and issued the above certificate, by making use of the standardized version in Greek. The person in charge filled in the following data: The date and address of service [12.1] in the language of the State of destination, and the method of service [12.2.1.3], i.e. pursuant to Article 50(2) of the Code of Civil Procedure, again in the language of the State of destination. The above person ticked also the box under 12.3, which demonstrates that the recipient was informed in writing that he may refuse to accept the document if it is not translated in a language he understands or the official language of the place of service. Finally, the place, name and capacity under which the above person drafted and signed the document were again written in the language of the state of destination. No court stamp is visible in the certificate.

What Would You Do if You Were the Greek Judge?

As I mentioned before, the case is still pending, and the claimant’s lawyer is seriously apprehended whether the documents aforementioned suffice for proving that service has taken place in accordance with the Service Regulation.

There are a number of critical points to be discussed in this case.

1. Is the Greek court entitled to return the certificate, because it was not completed in the languages accepted by the Hellenic Republic (Greek / English / French)? It is true that the receiving Agency made use of the standardized document in its Greek version; however, the crucial data were completed in the language of the State addressed, which is different from the languages declared by Greece).

2. Is the Greek court entitled to challenge the service of process, even if the document was served by a method prescribed by the internal law of the Member State addressed for the service of documents in domestic actions upon persons who are within its territory? According to Greek law, if the process server does not find anything or anyone related to the recipient in the given address, service by publication must follow.

3. Is the Greek court entitled to ask at this stage for a particular method of service, because the one chosen by the foreign court is violating the rights of the defendant? Article 7(1) of the Service Regulation does not give a clear answer in this respect.

4. Is the Greek court entitled to ask at this stage for further scrutiny by the Receiving Agency, so that the document is actually served to the defendant or one of its representatives? I fear that this won’t be accepted by the Receiving Agency, simply because service has taken place in accordance with its domestic rules.

5. If the Greek court considers that service was proper, because it was served by a method prescribed by the internal law of the Member State addressed: was it effected in sufficient time to enable the defendant to defend? I anticipate that the Greek court will consider that service was not timely, and therefore order a stay of proceedings.

Finally, an additional and purely domestic problem comes to the surface for the claimant. According to Greek law, and with respect to cases tried in the so called ordinary proceedings, service of process abroad has to be completed within 60 calendar days following filing of the claim. Failure to do so leads to dismissal of the claim as inadmissible. Filing and service has to be repeated. In the case at hand, the claimant passed already through this ordeal, because service of the first claim was not timely completed, i.e. not within the 60-days term. Now comes the second challenge and the claimant’s lawyer is at a loss…

FALM_4_transStill on the application of foreign law (see my previous post here), a second topic has caught my eye: that of free access providers of legal information – the ‘Legal Information Institutes’ (‘LII’s), directly related to the ‘Free Access to Law Movement’. I have never really reflected about them; even less, about what their role could be for the purposes of facilitating access to a foreign law. I have made a little bit of research on the institutions and the underlying principles, out of curiosity.

The existence of the LIIs was made possible thanks to the internet; free access to legal information would not be possible against distribution costs. As a consequence, the LII’s existence goes back only to the early 1990’s. The first institute was the Legal Information Institute at Cornell University Law School, set up in 1992 with a number of databases primarily of US federal law. The foundation of the Australasian Legal Information Institute (AustLII) followed in Sydney, Australia, in 1995. The next ones were the ZamLII (Zambia), the BAILII (UK and Ireland), the PacLII (Pacific Islands), the HKLII (Hong Kong), the SAFLII (South Africa), the NZLII (New Zealand), and the CanLII (Canada). Today, there are more of 50 LII or similar institutions –  not all of them have borrowed the “LII” suffix- over the world.

The LIIs publish legal information from more than one source, i.e., not just ‘their own’ information but also data from other LIIs, for free access via the Internet. To this aim they collaborate with each other, also at the technical level (sharing of software, technical expertise and experience on policy questions such as privacy issues), through membership of the ‘Free Access to Law Movement’ (FALM). The FALM was officially born at a Conference in Montreal in 2002, where the Declaration on Free Access to Law was adopted. The document as amended, as well as a list of all members with links to their respective websites, is accessible here.

The Montreal Declaration defines public legal information as “legal information produced by public bodies that have a duty to produce law and make it public”. It includes primary sources of law, such as legislation, case law and treaties, and various secondary (interpretative) public sources, such as reports on preparatory work and on law reform, and resulting from boards of inquiry. It also includes legal documents created as a result of public funding.

The underlying principles of the Declaration read as follows: public legal information from all countries and international institutions is part of the common heritage of humanity; maximising access to this information promotes justice and the rule of law; public legal information is digital common property and should be accessible to all on a non-profit basis and free of charge; the government bodies that create or control that information should provide access to it so that it can be published by other parties. The Declaration acknowledges, however, that while access to secondary interpretative legal materials should be for free, permission to republish is not always appropriate or possible.

The FALM aims at being global, but so far only few LIIs are based in Europe (Austria, Cyprus, France, Germany, Ireland -and the UK-, Italy, Spain); the majority are located and represent jurisdictions outside Europe. It should be noted that some LLIs, like the WorldLII, have a global scope.

What precisely can be obtained from the LIIs, and who behind each of them is, are  tricky questions: the answer is, it depends on the LLI. Regarding the first question, all the institutes share the task of promoting and supporting free access to public legal information throughout the world, principally via the Internet. In practice, however, the number and scope of the databases varies a lot: from many of the countries they are small, but they are very substantial from others; in some cases, like Canada, Australia, Hong Kong, Ireland or the UK, the LIIs’ offer includes content not available from commercial legal publishers. Another factor to be taken into account when assessing the usefulness of an LII is the policy on re-use: in some countries where doctrines such as the Crown Copyright still apply (for example, Australia), a LII is not at liberty to permit users to reproduce its data for all purposes.

On the second question, the answer is that LIIs are mostly based in academic institutions; some include as well libraries, and some, governmental or semi-governmental bodies. From this information it is already easy to guess that funding, and particularly long-term funding, is a problem. Private sponsorship and voluntary contributions to this kind of project, which is finally in the general interest, seems to be a question of culture and tradition: popular in some countries and almost unknown in others. As a consequence, the capacity of the LIIs to perform varies from one another; the divergences appear already at the level of the design and degree of sophistication of the respective websites. How often statutes and regulations are updated, how long it takes to have a decision published after delivery, depends as well on each LII.

Because every LII (and assimilated institutions) is different, a common assessment in terms of the authenticity, reliability or update of the sources provided, would be inappropriate. However, two things are clear: documents published by LIIs have no official status; and the initiative was not adopted, nor is being implemented, primarily for foreign users. Whether local courts and professionals rely on the services of an LII is a matter of trust. What I would say is that if they do – that is, if the documents published on a particular LII are routinely used for professional purposes, and accepted by the courts to assess the state of the law at the domestic level-, there is no reason not to follow for the purposes of bringing that foreign law before a court sitting in another country. But, of course, already finding out whether this is the case may be a cumbersome task.

— Further Reading: you may want to have a look at the Journal of Open Access to Law.

While doing some research on the topic of the application of foreign law (frustrating: nothing has happened at the international level since the issue was given up at the Hague some years ago), I have come across some publications on related topics which I believe deserve attention. One of them is whether there is a human right of public access to legal information; scholars in favor even claim a UN Convention proclaiming it should be adopted .

Thanks to these readings I remembered a case of the European Court of Human Rights which, except I am mistaken, is largely unknown. The judgement, of 6 April 2004, corresponds to application no. 75116/01, Karalyos and Huber v. Hungary and Greece. Hungary was found to have failed to comply with Article 6 ECHR in a case for the compensation of damages: the contents of the foreign applicable law had not been established nine years after the claim was lodged; the proceedings were still pending at an early stage before the Hungarian courts. What is more relevant, the local courts had not taken the approppriate steps to ascertain the contents of the foreign law, nor applied national law instead – a possibility foreseen in section 5 § 1 of Hungarian Law-Decree no. 13 of 1979 on International Private Law.

I suggest you have a look, also on the lengh of proceedings where foreign law is applicable, to  Bekerman v. Liechtenstein, on application no. 34459/10  (although less representative than Karalyos).

I would disclose nothing new by asserting the potential of Article 6 ECtHR in the area. However, to infer a fundamental right of access to legal materials from the case law mentioned above would, to my mind, go too far. On the contrary, some consequences could definitly be drawn regarding the application of foreign law – and not only in Hungary. I am not aware it has happened. It would be great to have feedback, if someone knows better.

— Some readings on access to legal information as a right: Ginevra Peruginelli, ‘Law belongs to the people: access to law and justice’, [2016] 16(2) Legal Information Management 107 – quite short; Leesi Ebenezer Mitee, The Right of Public Access to Legal Information: A Proposal for Its Universal Recognition as a Human Right’ (2017) 18 German LJ 1429 – almost 70 pages.

The author of this post is Nadia Rusinova, Lecturer in International/European Private Law at The Hague University of Applied Sciences. This is the sixth in a series of posts aimed to explore the impact of the coronavirus crisis on the phenomena of mobility and exchange that form the constituent elements of private international law, and to discuss the responses that private international law rules provide to the challenges posed by the crisis itself (see the previous contributions by Giovanni Chiapponi, Matthias Lehmann, Tomaso Ferando, Caterina Benini and Aygun Mammadzada). The EAPIL blog welcomes further contributions on such topics, either in the form of comments to the published posts or in the form of guest posts. Those interested in proposing a guest post for publication are encouraged to contact the blog’s editorial team at blog@eapil.org.


Despite the obvious need for extraordinary measures during the pandemic, the restrictions we face as a response to the threat posed by the COVID-19 engage a number of rights, protected under the ECHR (hereinafter, the Convention). Individuals are entitled to fundamental rights protection even – and especially – in case of an emergency. In this sense, we already ask ourselves: are the adopted measures proportionate and targeted, are they required by the exigencies of the situation, are they not inconsistent with other obligations under international law? Do we need new approaches to respond to this unprecedented situation?

The importance of private international law for family issues in an era of globalization is immense and the topic acquires particular significance due to the increasing mobility and internationalization of the child and of the family. The private international law aspects of international child and family law in the context of international child abduction, intercountry adoption, cross-border surrogacy, cross-border relocation, etc. are frequently dealt with in many cross-border cases and these rapid developments must result in the development of uniform guidelines.

Some of the most important are found in the recently published COVID-19 Toolkit of the Hague Conference on Private International Law, also announced in this blog.

With international borders closed and containment measures in place, cross-border movement of people and goods is subject to unprecedented restrictions. In many jurisdictions, children and families remain stranded. Access to government services remains limited. Legal procedures have been delayed or suspended. Without doubt the future judgments and decisions of European Court of Human Rights (hereinafter, the Court) in this context will have an impact on the main issues of private international law, including the recognition and enforcement of foreign judgments.

This post focuses on the potential impact of the COVID-19 measures on the assessment of Article 8 violations in its family life aspect. As this is a complex question, this post explores an issue of how the State responses can be seen as an interference in the family life and whether the States ensured adequate regard for Article 8 rights in the context of the pandemic. In particular, concrete example of how domestic courts apply the imposed measures in handling remote family law proceedings is discussed, and the compliance of these approaches with the requirements of the Convention is analyzed.

In the present abnormal circumstances, the fundamental principles of substantive law remain unchanged. Therefore, the procedural aspect of Article 8 is in the center of this post as closely linked to the rights and interests protected by Article 6 of the Convention.

Background

The legal aspects of a pandemic of this magnitude is still terra incognita for the domestic courts and understandably, for the Court as well. The only judgment so far, which concerns the impact of influenza quarantine seen as an interference in the family life related to a parent-child contact is Kuimov v Russia (2009).

In this case foster homes’ management refused the father to exercise his rights of access to his child on the ground that an influenza quarantine had been introduced, however the applicant could speak to the child on the telephone during this time. After the quarantine in the foster home was lifted, the father could resume his face-to-face meetings with his child.

In its assessment the Court found that the restrictions on the father’s access to the child were imposed with the “legitimate aim of protecting child’s health and rights”. Moreover, the Court accepted the Governments’ explanation that the access to the foster home was restricted due to a quarantine, which did not last an unreasonably long time – around 7 weeks. In addition, the father was allowed to come and see the child through the glass window on a weekly basis. In the circumstances of the case and regard being had to the States’ margin of appreciation, the Court was of the view that there was no violation of Article 8 on account of the restrictions imposed by the authorities on the applicant’s access to the child, in respect of the period of the quarantine.

Current Context

In response to the COVID-19 pandemic, already mid-March it became clear that measures should be taken, and taken fast, by the States in order to protect individual human rights. Further steps need to be taken in the next days, weeks and months, may be even years; we will experience the consequences for long time ahead. The impact of these measures will be widely felt, and some groups will be affected more than others. All in all, these measures entail the broadest mass restriction of liberties our generation have ever seen.

The rights protected by Article 8 of the Convention make no exception. On the contrary – family life and particularly parent-child relationships suffer to a high extent from the rollercoaster we found ourselves in. As a consequence, the domestic courts are called upon to assess, elaborate and reflect on this situation for years ahead. Naturally, this is the rationale behind the multiple derogations to Article 8. Therefore, even adequately taken in order to respond to the threat posed by COVID-19, these measures will have certain implications on the future assessment of Article 8 violations by the Court as well.

This would be completely new perspective when determining what would constitute a breach of Article 8 in the aforementioned context. The Corona crisis places also the question how is the vulnerability of the children needs to be regarded in the current pandemic. The Court will be asked to adjust to this new setting its child-specific human rights approach, developed with the years, taking into consideration three interrelated concepts: the inherent vulnerability of children, the best interests of the child and the circumscribed children’s autonomy which gradually increases with their evolving maturity (see, among others, M. and M. v Croatia, § 171).

The Court has found that the notion of “family life” under Article 8 of the Convention encompasses de facto “family” ties. The existence or non-existence of “family life” for the purposes of Article 8 is essentially a question of fact depending on the existence of close personal ties. The interferences in parent-child relationships could impact not only the “classical” parental responsibility disputes and child abductions, but foster care and adoption cases as well.

As to the derogations from obligations under the Convention, the Council of Europe acknowledges in the document titled Respecting democracy, rule of law and human rights in the framework of the COVID-19 sanitary crisis: A Toolkit for Member States that the measures taken by the States vary depending upon the specific situation in the States concerned.

The large margin of appreciation of States as regards the existence of emergency and of the required measures is unavoidable. As suggested by Kanstantsin Dzehtsiarou, the magnitude of this crisis will clearly translate into significant margin of appreciation allowed to the authorities. This in turn means that the Court will apply looser test of proportionality and if the measures go beyond what is necessary under this loose test of proportionality, then violations are possible.

Potential violations of Article 8 have already been voiced in domestic court proceedings over the last few weeks. The Court will likely be asked to deal with similar allegations in the future. It is of course uncertain how the Court will look at these allegations and whether the current crisis will affect the interpretation of the Convention. The Kuimov case, a quarantine with a duration of 7 weeks and a limited local impact can hardly compare to the current global pandemic. Thus, the roles and perspectives of different stakeholders in child law in the private international law sphere at international level (parents – mothers and fathers, judges, the children themselves, other relatives, etc.) need to be reconsidered to respond adequately to this new situation.

States’ responses and domestic courts procedural actions – interference in the family life

If we try to foresee how the future case-law will look, the first question is what can be considered as “interference” in the current situation. The primary purpose of Article 8 is to protect against arbitrary interferences with private and family life, home, and correspondence by a public authority (Libert v France, §§ 40-42). This obligation is of a negative kind, described by the Court as the essential object of Article 8 (Kroon and Others v the Netherlands, § 31). However, Contracting States also have positive obligations to ensure that Article 8 rights are respected including as between private parties (Evans v the United Kingdom [GC], § 75).

In this sense, interference in times of Corona, related to the right of family life under Article 8 are clearly present. Firstly, the application of the general, mainly procedural rules, adopted by the state’s authorities in emergency response to the COVID-19, and secondly, to give example of particular application of these responses – the various approaches taken by courts in determining how to deal remotely with the specific case in the context of the pandemic.

States Emergency Responses

Shortly after the seriousness of the situation became clear, many States responded to the threat posed by the COVID-19 by setting the rule that decisions regarding parental responsibility still apply, with the caution that the exercise of parental rights and right of access has to be respected in the health context. Due to the pandemic, courts are mostly closed and, generally, the only applications that can be reviewed in family matters are international child abduction cases, urgent claims to obtain a restraining order in cases of domestic violence and, in some cases, provisional and protective measures. As to pending and future cases – for instance parental disputes that are not yet introduced to the court but still might be urgent, the hearings that were originally set during the “lockdown period” have generally been cancelled or postponed. Lodging new applications is possible, but they are not immediately entertained.

As an example of the emergency measures adopted in some States, a state of health emergency was declared in France for two months from 24 March 2020 until 24 May 2020. During the lockdown, the courts have been dealing only with international child abduction cases and urgent applications for restraining order in cases of domestic violence. In Spain, precautionary measures under Article 158 of the Spanish Civil Code are available at this time only in urgent cases. Deadlines remain suspended until further notice, but since 15 April 2020, it has been permissible to file new applications with the court. In Italy the suspension has some exceptions, namely in the field of family law matters and protection of vulnerable people:
some Juvenile Tribunal procedures take place, like adoption procedures, foreign children without parents procedures, children brought away from their families, and situations of heavy risk for the child; surprisingly the same procedures in front of the Court of Appeal are not explicitly exempted from suspension.

The Approaches of Domestic Courts

In sum, Europe-wide, the message from the governments is that existing judgments on custody and access must be maintained, except where there is a concrete risk to the child’s health because of one of the parents’ behavior or living environment, which may give an opening to a modification. The difficulty arises from the fact that assessment of all particular claims is far not realistic having in mind the dimensions of the pandemic and the limited resources of the courts to react at this moment.

However, the courts soon recognized that regardless the danger of potential contamination, blanket policy that children should follow their usual visitation regimes is inconsistent with a comprehensive analysis of the best interests of the child. Therefore, the presumption is that existing parenting arrangements and schedules should continue, but subject to whatever modifications may be necessary to ensure that all COVID-19 precautions are adhered to, including strict social distancing.

This approach reflected into recent court decisions, concerning the rights protected by Article 8. The health, safety and well-being of children and families remains the courts’ foremost consideration during COVID-19. In many cases, a parent’s personal risk factors (through employment or associations, for example) required controls with respect to their direct contact with a child. A parent’s lifestyle or behavior in the face of COVID-19 (for example, failing to comply with social distancing; or failing to take reasonable health-precautions) raised sufficient concerns about parental judgment that direct parent-child contact would have to be reconsidered.

Compliance of the interference with the requirements of Article 8

Turning to the question how these interferences are to be assessed in the light of the Convention, we should note that like most Convention rights, Article 8 is not absolute. Article 8(2) enumerates the legitimate aims which may justify proportionate interference by a public authority and potential infringement upon the rights protected in Article 8.

At least three of these justifications in the aforementioned context can well be related with the Corona crisis: public safety, protection of the health, and protection of the rights and freedoms of others. In the present situation the purpose of the measures is clearly to limit the spread of the Coronavirus by imposing certain limitations, and it logically seems to constitute “legitimate aim”.

The Court is however quite succinct when it comes to assessing the existence of a legitimate aim within the meaning of Article 8(2) (S.A.S. v France [GC], § 114). Following the rule established in its case-law, in future cases it will be for the respondent Governments to demonstrate that the interference pursued a legitimate aim (Mozer v the Republic of Moldova and Russia [GC], § 194). They will need to show that the particular measure in question aimed at protection of public safety, health, and rights and freedoms of others, depending upon the specific situation in the particular country.

Moreover, the States concerned will need to argue the proportionality of these measures, which might be the greater challenge in this situation. As a principle, the restriction impacting upon fundamental rights is unlikely to be proportionate if a less restrictive method could have been used to achieve this legitimate aim. The concept of proportionality in times of pandemic puts great burden on the authorities, requiring them to strike a fair balance between the interests of the individual whose rights are being impinged upon, and the interests of others or of the community. When life is at stake, like now, that is a particularly difficult balance to strike. In the context of the current pandemic the question is: could these measures be less restrictive?

At this point it is almost impossible to determine the proportionality of the emergency responses, because we must primarily assess the legislative choices underlying it. In addition, the national authorities were forced to make initial assessment in days (if not hours), with all the wide margin of appreciation left to them. In this regard, the Court should give leeway to the Contracting States and their policy makers (see this post by Vassilis P. Tzevelekos at Strasbourg Observers for a discussion on this point).

To summarize whether the potential infringement upon Article 8 is necessary in a democratic society in these pandemic times, we should follow the approach of the Court and balance the interests of the State concerned against the rights of the individual.

In leading Article 8 case, the Court clarified that “necessary” does not have the flexibility of expressions as “useful”, “reasonable”, or “desirable” (which would be nowadays very convenient), but implies the existence of a “pressing social need” for the interference in question (Dudgeon v. the United Kingdom, § 51). In this context, we should note that if such measures are in principle regarded and announced as a temporary, amended frequently according to the developments and are discontinued as soon as circumstances permit, in pandemic situation with this magnitude the pressing social need such measures to be imposed may be considered as present.

Speaking specifically of the discussed domestic courts’ approaches, of course, the substantial compliance with the Convention cannot be assessed altogether as it would always depend on the unique circumstances of the case. From procedural point of view, of particular interest is the question if the remote or hybrid hearing is sufficiently fair to meet the requirements of Articles 6 and 8 of the Convention. For instance, where lies the balance with the potential delay of the proceedings, in case the remote hearing is considered not suitable in the particular case?

Traditionally, in cases concerning a persons’ relationship with his or her child, there is a duty to exercise exceptional diligence, in view of the risk that the passage of time may result in a de facto determination of the matter (Ignaccolo-Zenide v Romania, § 102; Süß v Germany, § 100, Strömblad v Sweden, § 80) By its nature, a remote hearing, if appropriate at all, can replicate some but not all of the characteristics of a fully attended hearing. The parties should always stay alert to ensure that the dynamics and demands of the remote process do not impinge upon the fundamental principles. Remote hearings also place additional, and in some cases, considerable burdens on the participants – for instance, despite the right of translation is not absolute in the view if the Court, the language barrier appears as greater issue than in the traditional hearings, which in a cross-border context could be decisive.

How in this context to assess if the safeguards of Article 8 and Article 6 have been regarded? There is no straightforward answer, but in the present crisis the assumption must be that such a process is capable of being fair and meets the requirements of both provisions.

First of all, when assessing the suitability of the remote process, the courts must seek to ensure that it does not become overloaded by making distinction between those decisions that must be prioritized and those that must unfortunately wait until proper time is available. In some cases, even when it is much more difficult for the judge to watch the reactions of the parties to the evidence and although this is a general disadvantage of the remote hearing, it cannot be considered as major issue. Overall, the technology could be capable of providing a satisfactory hearing and the judge would understandably continue with remote proceeding, when the urgency is prioritized, even at the expense that at the end the usual basic procedural safeguards may have been in some way overlooked. Despite all this, it seems that this could not be assessed as a violation of Article 8 and 6 in cases when a child has been held in limbo for a long time.

Naturally, the suitability of the remote hearing will be raised (among the other issues) as a complaint before the Court. In its case per case analysis the Court should assess it not only as a separate procedural issue, but also in its interplay with the whole emergency situation.

Different factors should be taken into account, such as whether each of the parties could engage sufficiently with the professional evidence to an adequate degree for the process to be regarded as fair, and whether each of the parties have been able to follow and to understand the court hearing and to instruct their lawyers adequately in a timely manner. Checking that the demands and dynamics of the remote hearing did not encroach upon the central principles of a fair proceedings is crucial.

In these cases it would be good practice already now the domestic courts to discuss it in their arguments, relating to the requirements posed by the Convention (see for a good example the ruling of the Family Court of England and Wales in Re S (a child), § 13). Some pandemic-specific caveats should also be considered, for instance the fact that the highly pressured circumstances in which all the participants are working could lead to a chain reaction in the course of which fundamental legal and procedural principles come to be compromised despite the best intentions of a range of dedicated professionals.

As a conclusion, last months and weeks turned upside down the world as we know it. Governments tried to keep human rights and fundamental freedoms at the heart of measures to combat the pandemic, yet forced to take various emergency actions. At this point we can only guess whether these measures comply with the requirements of the Convention. Now, as the outbreak of COVID-19 slows down, it is probably a good moment to see if human rights are not forgotten in such uncertain times – there is still time to exercise more attentive monitoring of the level of protection and to make better choices.

The author of this post is Aygun Mammadzada, PhD Researcher at the Institute of Maritime Law of the University of Southampton.


Status quo

Withdrawal of the United Kingdom from the European Union leaves many uncertainties and puzzling effects on civil justice and cross-border judicial cooperation. Upon its departure on 31 January 2020 the United Kingdom ceased to be a member of the Union while remaining subject to the EU law and rulings of the European Court of Justice throughout the transition period under Article 67 of the Withdrawal Agreement. In less than five weeks – by 1 July 2020, the United Kingdom and European Union should decide whether to extend the transition period up to two years, as permitted by the Agreement. However, that has been ruled out by the United Kingdom, which could be altered by another legislation and it seems hardly a case.

Once the transition period ends, the Brussels I bis Regulation will no longer be applicable to jurisdiction, as well as choice of court agreements and the recognition of judgments between the United Kingdom and the Union.

Absent such an instrument, successful operation of the sphere will mostly depend on either Article 33-34 of the Recast Regulation which are not comprehensive enough or domestic rules which prevent uniformity and certainty due to inevitable varieties. This will significantly affect businesses and individuals. Data suggested that in 2018 the UK was the largest legal services market in Europe (valued at approximately £35 bn in 2018).

On the same line, 75% of over 800 claims which were issued at the Admiralty and Commercial Court involved at least one foreign party and in 53% of the case all parties were international. In 2019, 77% of over 600 such claims were international in nature whilst in half of the cases all parties were international. On the same note, despite the fact that the Member States are taking different measures, such as establishing special commercial courts to attract international commercial parties, there is still not any alternative to the London Commercial Court as a leading global centre for international dispute resolution, as discussed by Giesela Rühl. Nonetheless, without any harmonized legal framework applicable to jurisdiction and the recognition of judgments in cross-border civil and commercial cases, parties to international trade might refrain from linking their transactions to English jurisdiction or avoid English choice of court agreements.

Among other measures, the UK has expressed that enhanced judicial cooperation with the EU is part of its global outlook and it will continue adherence to the existing international treaties, conventions and standards in the field. In this ambit, on 8 April 2020, the UK deposited its request for acceding the Lugano Convention of 2007 (see here a comment by Matthias Lehman).

The Convention is still applicable in regard to the UK during the transition period as part of the EU law. Unlike the Hague Convention on Choice of Court Agreements of 2005 which is also among the UK’s Brexit-related channels, the Lugano Convention is not an open treaty. According to Article 72 of the Convention, the UK can become a member only upon the unanimous consent of all of the contracting parties (EU and EFTA states). This brings many uncertainties about the foreseeable status of the UK’s accession request.

The Lugano Convention is mainly mirroring the Brussels regime and therefore, it might enshrine perspectives of cross-border judicial cooperation in civil and commercial matters between the UK and Union. The government perceives the importance of the Convention for the provision of judicial certainty and prevention of multiple court proceedings. Nevertheless, the Convention does not contain new lis pendens provisions that were brought by the Brussels I bis Regulation, hence lacks the same degree of respect to party autonomy and choice of court agreements as ensured by the revised Regulation.

Mastermelt Ltd v Siegfried Evionnaz SA: The relevance of the case

In the recent case of Mastermelt Ltd v Siegfried Evionnaz SA, the High Court decided that the Brussels I bis Regulation does not affect the interpretation of the Lugano Convention. Mr Justice Walksman concluded that unlike the new lis pendens provisions as contained in Article 31(2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation, the Lugano Convention preserves the “court first seized” rule and therefore, regardless of an exclusive jurisdiction agreement the court first seized shall continue the proceedings and rule on its jurisdiction.

This decision is very timely since it triggers nonequilibrium views on the foreseeable membership of the United Kingdom to the Convention. It confirms continuation of the Gasser scenarios and torpedo actions under the Lugano Convention, furthermore, gives rise to the risk of parallel proceedings and irreconcilable judgments.

Factual background

The dispute arose between Mastermelt Limited (Claimant), an English company, and Siegfried Evionnaz SA (Defendant), a Swiss company, over the quality of Mastermelt’s performance of the reclamation services in 2018.

After Siegfried informed Mastermelt about their intention to commence proceedings in Switzerland on the basis of the exclusive jurisdiction clause in favour the Swiss courts contained in Siegfried’s standard terms and conditions of contract (“STC”), the claimant initiated the English proceedings on 5 February 2019 seeking negative declaratory relief against the defendant. Later, on 23 July 2019, Siegfried instituted the Swiss proceedings in the Zurich Commercial Court against Mastermelt and subsequently, on 24 May 2019, applied the English High Court, for a declaration that it had no jurisdiction.

Mastermelt brought another set of Swiss proceedings for a stay in early 2020, which was rejected by the Zurich Commercial Court on 13 February 2020 and advanced to the Federal Supreme Court. As of the date of the hearing in the English High Court, the Supreme Court had not given any ruling on that.

Issues

The English court considered whether the harmonised version of Article 27 of the Lugano Convention applies and if so, it would have had stayed the proceedings until the Swiss court had decided the question of jurisdiction. Subsequently, the court also decided the question of its own jurisdiction and validity of the exclusive jurisdiction agreement.

Analysis

While considering the proper interpretation of Article 27 of the Lugano Convention the court as a primary point conferred that it was not bound by the Swiss court’s decision on the same issue which was relied upon by Siegfried.

Referring to Protocol No 2 to the Lugano Convention, Mr Justice Walksman paid ‘due account’ to the Swiss judgment, however, refused its binding effect. Drawing on the ‘too remote’ nature of the former to be characterized as res judicata, the judge opposed to the defendant’s contention to apply the CJEU’s decision in Gothaer v Samskip. On this line, the High Court resisted the harmonised interpretation of Article 27 of the Lugano Convention as Article 31(2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation and as the first seized court denied staying the proceedings.

Contrary to the defendant’s reasoning, the court determined that although the CJEU’s decision in Gasser was reversed by the new Article 31(2), it was not obsolete and still had limited application outside the Regulation. The court reiterated its conclusion by emphasizing the significance of academic discussion. As stated by Professor Briggs, “the innovation created by 31.2 … does not apply to proceedings within the scope of Lugano II which remains regulated by the original rule of strict temporal priority …”. Professor Joseph also took a similar approach by expressing that “… there is no equivalent provision in the … Convention to Article 31.2 … Therefore, as regards the enforcement of jurisdiction agreements, the court first seized will examine the enforcement of such an agreement, irrespective of whether it is the chosen court…”

These brought continuation of the proceedings and examination of the second issue – jurisdiction of the court first seized. Pursuant to the Convention, if there was an exclusive jurisdiction agreement in the ambit of Article 23 of the Lugano Convention the English court had to dismiss the proceedings in favour of the designated court, otherwise Siegfried’s claim had to be litigated in England as the place of performance according to Article 5.1(a).

Referring to a significant body of the European and English case law (including the CJEU’s rulings in Salotti v Ruwa, Berghoefer v ASA SA, Iveco v Van Hool, Benincasa v Dentalkit and the judgment o the Court Appeal in Deutsche Bank v Asia Pacific), Mr Justice Walksman regarded the existence of an agreement as an independent concept. The court highlighted the reasoning in Powell Duffryn and Aeroflot and stated that a valid agreement should be “clearly and precisely” demonstrated either in a form of “writing” or ‘evidenced in writing’. Moreover, it was asserted that the written form could be evidenced not only in a single document but it could consist of multiple documents such as the seller’s quotation and buyer’s purchase order.

While considering what constituted “writing”, Mr Justice Walksman articulated the tendency of the courts to adopt a flexible approach as in the CJEU’s judgment in Berghoefer and his own earlier decision in R + V Versicherung v Robertson which in turn referred to the decision of the Court of Appeal in 7E Communications v Vertex.

At the same time, he emphasized the importance of the valid agreement in the sense of consent in line with the opinion of the Advocate General Bot in Profit Investment. On this basis it was submitted that an oral agreement of the party to the other party’s STC which included an exclusive jurisdiction agreement would not be sufficient to meet the durability requirement without later written evidence of such putative consent. This view was also supported by academic commentaries and English authorities such as ME Tankers v Abu Dhabi Container Lines [2002] 2 Lloyds 643, Claxton Engineering v TXM [2007] 1WR 2175, Chester Hall v Service Centres [2014] EWHC 2529.

The court admitted that there was a written agreement and manifested consent between the parties on the basis of the purchase orders and STC, which were strongly compelled by prior dealings, later statements and invoices expressly found in the email exchange. It was also maintained that there was “much the better of the argument” satisfying the good arguable case standard for the applicability of Article 23.1(a) and any opposing presumption would be “commercially absurd”.

Upon these observations, Mr Justice Walksman held that the English proceedings had to be dismissed in favour of the exclusively designated Swiss court.

Comments

This decision is of importance for several reasons. It reaffirms the emphasis that has been traditionally placed on party autonomy and authentic consent in English law and practice.  Likewise, it reasserts the exhaustive interpretation of the form requirement of the exclusive jurisdiction agreements within the meaning of the Lugano Convention which might be a useful reference point for the courts post-Brexit provided the UK would have become a member to the framework.

On the other hand, the judgment is particularly sensible at the time of the United Kingdom’s Brexit planning and strategy to continue the Lugano membership. It reveals serious differences between the Brussels I bis Regulation and Convention notwithstanding the equivalent rules existing in both.

Contrary to the remarks favoring the Convention as an “oven ready” option for the United Kingdom, the lack of a mechanism preventing parallel proceedings and irreconcilable judgments frustrates legal certainty, provokes waste of time and expenses, thus, threatens the vital principle of private international law – party autonomy.

Articles 5 and 6 of the Hague Convention on Choice of Court Agreements which enforce parties’ choice and oblige any non-chosen court to stay or dismiss the proceedings, might be helpful in this regard, however only to some limited extent due to its limited scope and application only to the Contracting States, whereas the EFTA states have not ratified the treaty.

In this regard, return of anti-suit injunctions as the measures frequently issued by the English courts in support of exclusive jurisdiction agreements provokes special attention. Indeed, the lack of mutual trust within the Lugano framework might result in the reversal of the West Tankers ruling, however the matter is still uncertain since there has not been any relevant authority for such an implication. All the mentioned points raise considerable doubts over the satisfactory replacement of the Brussels I bis Regulation by the Convention for the post-Brexit UK.

Moreover, unusual obligation to “pay due account” to the case law of other contracting states, as well as the CJEU provided by Protocol No 2 to the Convention broadens skepticism. As indicated by Professor Hess, such language “… does not mean more than looking at the pertinent case-law and giving reasons as to why a deviation is considered to be necessary”. Furthermore, the absence of any sanction upon deviations brings “inherent weakness” of the Protocol and rests its application perspectives solely on “… goodwill and of courtesy of the courts …”.

All these lead to non-uniformity and harbours suspicion against the Convention as a successful post-Brexit means of the UK. These concerns leave further room for discussion about seeking robust solutions and especially reaching a bilateral agreement in this context as advised by Professor Hess. However crucial these items are, they are the subject matter of another study.

All in all, provided the United Kingdom becomes a Contracting State to the Lugano Convention, the Mastermelt ruling alerts the parties to be more careful and get appropriate legal advice while contracting and designating a competent forum for the resolution of their disputes.

The German Federal Court (Bundesgerichtshof) rendered an important ruling on jurisdiction and applicable law in claims against internet portals publishing crowd-sourced reviews about businesses on 14 January 2020 (BGH VI ZR 497/18).

Facts

Yelp Ireland Ltd., a company incorporated under Irish law, offers a well-known website and application (“app”) providing businesses recommendations. Yelp uses an algorithm to determine how reviews are arranged, distinguishing between “Recommended reviews” and “Currently not recommended reviews.”  When calculating the rating (“stars”) of a business, only “recommended reviews” are taken into account.

Yelp was sued by the owner of a German fitness studio, who complained that this mode of calculation had created a distorted picture of its business because a number of older, more favourable reviews had been ignored. The claim was brought before a German court at the place of business of the claimant.

The Easy Part: Jurisdiction

The issue of jurisdiction was rather straight-forward. The Federal Court had to decide whether the claimant had suffered damage in Germany and could therefore bring the claim under Article 7(2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation.

Tthe Federal Court started by clarifying that Art. 7(2) Brussel Ibis Regulation also covers violations of personal rights and actions for injunctive relief. Insofar, it referred to the CJEU decision in Bolagsupplysningen, which had held that “a legal person claiming that its personality rights have been infringed by the publication of incorrect information concerning it on the internet and by a failure to remove comments relating to that person can bring an action for rectification of that information, removal of those comments and compensation in respect of all the damage sustained before the courts of the Member State in which its centre of interests is located” (CJEU, Bolagsupplysningen, margin no 44).

The Federal Court applied this standard and ruled that the claimant had its centre of interests in Germany where it carries out the main part of its economic activities. It thus found that it had international jurisdiction over the claim.

The Hard Nut: Applicable Law

Much more arduous was determining the applicable law under Article 4(1) of the Rome II Regulation. This is also the most interesting part of the decision.

The source of the problem is Article 1(2)(g) of the Regulation, which excludes “non-contractual obligations arising out of violations of privacy and rights relating to personality, including defamation” from the scope of the Regulation. It was doubtful whether the business in the present case had claimed such a violation. If it had, the Rome II Regulation would be inapplicable and German Private International Law would govern. The latter uses a different general conflict rule to the Regulation, giving tort victims in all cases a choice between the law of the place of tortious conduct and the place of damage (Art 40(1) Introductory Code to the German Civil Code – Einführungsgesetz zum Bürgerlichen Gesetzbuch (EGBGB)).

The Non-Decision

Whether companies can be victims of “violations of privacy and rights relating to personality, including defamation” in the sense of the Rome II exclusion is subject to debate in the literature (see e.g. Andrew Dickinson, The Rome II Regulation, OUP 2008, margin no 3.227; Anatol Dutta, IPRax 2014, p. 33, 37). The German Federal Court avoids this point by a “trick”: It deems the submissions made by the claimant as conclusive evidence of an implicit choice of German law. Thus, it would not matter whether the Rome II Regulation applies or not. In both cases, German law would be applicable, either as a result of Article 4(1) of the Rome II or of Article 40(1) of the EGBGB.

Assessment

Although the decision of the Federal Court provided clarity in the individual case, it did not answer the fundamental question of the scope of the exclusion under Article 1(2)(g) of the Rome II Regulation. In this respect, it is agreed that Article 1(2)(g) of the Regulation must be interpreted autonomously. It therefore does not matter whether national law grants companies personality rights or not.

The wording of Article 1(2)(g) does not differentiate between violations against natural or legal persons. The very term “legal person” and the concept of “legal personality” suggests that corporations may have “personality rights” in the sense of the provision. The decision in Bolagsupplysningen also points in this direction, though it concerned international jurisdiction and not the applicable law.

From a systematic viewpoint, however, the existence of Article 6(1) of the Rome II Regulation means that negative statements made in a commercial context must fall into the Regulation’s scope, as they make out a large part of unfair competition claims. Thus, they cannot be excluded under Article 1(2)(g) of the Regulation, regardless of whether they are brought against a legal or a natural person.

Historically, the exclusion under Article 1(2)(g) can be explained by conflicting views on the implications of the freedom of the press and other media and the freedom of expression for private international law. The Member States could not agree whether to use a connecting factor favouring the publisher’s freedom or the victim’s protection. For this reason, they decided to exclude the violation of personality and privacy rights from the provision’s scope altogether.

This background points to the need of careful construction of Article 1(2)(g) of the Rome II Regulation; the exclusion it contains must not be understood too widely.  An overly broad interpretation would also run against the effectiveness of the harmonised rules.

The proper decision would have been to apply the Rome II Regulation to negative online reviews of legal or other persons’ commercial activities. They should be seen as falling squarely in its scope. This also includes the question of how business ratings are calculated. It is unfortunate that the German Federal Court missed this opportunity for clarification.

European ParliamentThe European Parliament’s Legal Affairs Committee issued on 22 April 2020 a draft report with recommendations to the Commission on a Digital Services Act which, we believe, is of particular interest for private international law (PIL) specialists.

While the document mainly focuses on the approximation of Member States’ substantive laws in the field of digital services, it also includes interesting considerations on PIL.

Background 

In the context of its follow-up to the Digital Single Market (DSM) Strategy, the European Union’s main objective is to ensure the best possible access to the online world for Union citizens and businesses. It requires to adopt rules promoting free provision of digital services while, at the same time, safeguarding fair competition between economic operators and the highest standard of consumer protection as well as personal data protection. Numerous rules covering different aspects of digitalisation, including private-law issues (see for instance, Directive 2019/770 on B2C contracts for the supply of digital content and services and Regulation 2019/1150 on promoting fairness and transparency for business users of online intermediation services), have already been adopted.

A quick look at the DSM Strategy acquis shows that the EU legislator has so far followed a sectorial approach. The e-commerce directive, pioneer in its time to enhance the emerging digitalisation in the field of services, has not been updated since its adoption in 2000. The text creates a common legal framework to ensure the free movement of “information society services”, i.e. economic activities which take place on-line, between Member States. It lays down an “internal market clause” in favour of service providers (also known as country of origin principle), as well as rules on electronic contracts, commercial communications and limited liability of intermediaries.

Today, a majority of experts agree that the liberal regime established by the directive appears outdated in the context of new digital services providers, such as social networks, collaborative economy platforms or online marketplaces (see the Google France case and the Glawischnig-Piesczek case decided by the Court of Justice). The scope of application of the directive, which rests inter alia on the notion of “provider of information society services”, is also widely questioned (see Elite Taxi Case and Airbnb).

Against this backdrop, the European Commission announced the future adoption of a Digital Services Act (DSA) to update the current horizontal regulatory framework. The proposal aims at strengthening the responsibility of online platforms and clarifying rules for the provision of online services.

Private International Law Issues

The treatment of PIL issues within the DSM Strategy is, until now, at best marginal. The European legislator has not said much on cross-border regulation of private-law relationships within the DSM acquis. In most cases, the secondary law limits itself to laying down that it “should be without prejudice to Union law concerning judicial cooperation in civil matters” (see Regulation 2018/302 on addressing unjustified geo-blocking, Article 1(6); Regulation 2019/1150, Article 1(5); Directive 2019/770, Recital 80).

We see this as a major oversight as the digital world is international by nature. First, the implementation of EU PIL instruments in the digital area is far from obvious. PIL is traditionally based on geographical location and connecting factors but online relationships are intrinsically “aterritorial”. Reconsidering EU PIL acquis – without necessarily reviewing it extensively – is essential (see recently Pedro de Miguel Asensio, Conflict of Laws and the Internet, Edward Elgar, 2020, announced here). Second, a coordinated implementation of EU substantive rules and PIL instruments is, in most cases, a prerequisite for the efficiency of the former.

Against this backdrop, the European Parliament draft recommendations provide for a meaningful set of considerations.

European Parliament Draft Recommendations

While the European Commission’s proposal is only expected in the last semester of 2020, the European Parliament (EP) has already started working on the future Digital Services Act (DSA). The EP’s Legal Affairs Committee released  draft recommendations aiming at “adapting commercial and civil law rules for commercial entities operating online” (2020/2019 (INL)). By doing so, the EP wishes to influence the content of the future DSA proposal but also ancillary regulation.

The draft report addresses different issues related to PIL including: (i) the role of EU PIL in ensuring an effective access for Union citizens and businesses to justice, (ii) the status of access rights to data under PIL, and (iii) the coordination between the scope of the future European digital services set of rules and PIL.

Assessment
(i) Access to justice and PIL

The EP proceeds from the fact that contracts concluded by individuals or businesses with online service providers are generally pre-formulated standard contracts, which include exclusive choice of law and forum provisions. This contractual imbalance is likely to affect access to European justice for the co-contracting party, in particular when the service provider is established in a third country. The EP’s position on this issue is welcomed and coherent with the EU fundamental right to an effective judicial remedy (EU Charter of fundamental rights, Article 47; see also for a recent application under the GDPR, Article 78(1) and (2), and Article 79(1)).

It remains to be seen what concrete measures can be promoted in this field. Would it require to create a European forum necessitatis in digital services litigation? Would local courts be allowed, under certain conditions, to remove a jurisdiction clause in favour of a third country “imposed” by a digital services provider. These questions have to be read in connection with the mandatory nature of the forthcoming regulation (see infra (iii)) and perhaps also with the debate on the (non-)validity of a choice-of-court agreement, which aims at circumventing overriding mandatory provisions (from a French perspective, see Cass. Civ. 1re, 22 october 2008, Monster Cable, n°07-15.823).

(ii) Access rights to data and PIL

The second issue deals with PIL implications in the context of cross-border flows of data, closely linked to the provision of digital services. The draft report focuses on access rights to data, probably by reference to Article 15 of the GDPR. The main objective of this provision is to help individuals to understand why and how an operator is using their data. As, most of the time, the processing of data, as well as their transfer, are cross-border, PIL must be implemented. However, it is not always clear which PIL rules, among EU and national set of rules, are applicable, depending on the characterisation of the legal relationship concerned (see on this blog, Martina Mantovani, “Contractual Obligations as a Tool for International Transfers of Personal Data”). Moreover, due to the room for manoeuvre given to Member States by the GDPR for specific processing situations, the European data protection regime may lead to divergent solutions pursuant national laws. This may be detrimental to European individuals and can lead to regulatory competition and law shopping.

Against this backdrop, the EP asks for “clarification” but what does it mean?  The next step should be to increase legal certainty in the designation of the competent jurisdiction as well as of the applicable law in data protection litigation. This requires to review the weaknesses of the GDPR in this respect and start thinking about clear uniform PIL rules in the field. It will be a full-part legislative work, next to the future DSA.

(iii) Geographical scope of EU digital services law and PIL

Regarding the scope of the forthcoming DSA, the EP underlines the “importance of ensuring that the use of digital services in the Union is fully governed by Union law under the jurisdiction of Union courts”. Reference is made here to the mandatory nature of EU secondary provisions vis-à-visthird countries’ law.

This position, supporting the efficiency of EU law, is consistent with the approach taken by the European Court of Justice in the well-known Ingmar case. A similar statement is laid down in secondary law, for instance in the field consumer protection, in order to ensure a mandatory application of EU substantive rules (see Directive 2011/83 on consumer rights, Article 25). The same approach is now followed in some DSM instruments. They “should apply irrespective of the law otherwise applicable to a contract” – by definition, the law of a third country – (see Regulation 2019/1150, Recital 9 in fine; Regulation 2017/1128 on cross-border portability of online content services, Article 7(2) and Recital 25).

By contrast, the e-commerce directive is limited to the European market and does not apply to service providers established in third countries. This is the direct consequence of the internal market clause (Article 3), which can only benefit to European economic operators. However, this geographical limitation is outdated; many digital services providers are now established outside of the EU.

The efficiency of EU DSM substantive law depends on its ability to encompass the global dimension of trade, in particular when it comes to protect European values such as fair competition or the protection of the weaker party. To this end, EU PIL is a key ally.

The author of this post is Aygun Mammadzada, PhD Researcher at the Institute of Maritime Law of the University of Southampton. This is the fifth in a series of posts aimed to explore the impact of the coronavirus crisis on the phenomena of mobility and exchange that form the constituent elements of private international law, and to discuss the responses that private international law rules provide to the challenges posed by the crisis itself (see the previous contributions by Giovanni Chiapponi, Matthias Lehmann, Tomaso Ferando and Caterina Benini). The EAPIL blog welcomes further contributions on these topics, either in the form of comments to the published posts or in the form of guest posts. Those interested in proposing a guest post for publication are encouraged to contact the blog’s editorial team at blog@eapil.org.


Beyond triggering global health crisis, the extremely rapid growth of COVID-19 pandemic has exacerbated significant disruptions for global order, as well as brought drastic effects on international commerce and trade. Interruptions in business transactions have become inevitable due to challenges in meeting contractual obligations, terminations and reliance on frustration or force majeure clauses. All these have given rise to considerable cross-border disputes and necessitated reasonable case management strategies.

Like other states the UK government has also taken several steps for fighting the spread of coronavirus and among other legislative measures recently adopted the Coronavirus Act 2020. The Act justifies giving extraordinary powers to the government in a broad spectrum of areas including the work of the courts and tribunals for navigating uncertainties and minimising potential risks for the judiciary. In the light of substantial significance of access to fair trial and administration of justice amid increasing coronavirus-related claims this post focusses on the implications of the outbreak for civil proceedings. While English courts would maintain ongoing or potential cases parties should expect the recent changes in procedural law and adapt new practices regarding filing the documents and attending the hearings.

Emergency Legislative Measures

On 19 March 2020, Lord Chief Justice delivered a message to the Civil and Family Courts about continuation of their work as a vital public service with a particular note that this would not be ‘business as usual’.  Following the nationwide lockdown that was officially declared across the UK on 23 March 2020 the Coronavirus Bill received Royal Assent on 25 March 2020 and became a Parliamentary Act. The key provisions affecting judicial proceedings are laid down in Sections 53-57 on expansion of video and audio technology by criminal and magistrates’ courts and public participation in live civil as well as criminal proceedings. As the Department of Health and Social Care has addressed these measures aim at keeping the courts open to the public, continuation of the proceedings without the need for the participants to attend in person and refraining delays in the administration of justice.

On the same day the HMCTS published an operational summary on avoiding physical hearings and arranging remote trials wherever possible, introduction of social distancing measures in courts and tribunals upon continuation of the ongoing proceedings. Since then there has been a daily summary of HMCTS operational position provided during the pandemic. With the purpose of consolidating the work of courts and tribunals into fewer buildings since 30 March 2020 there have been priority courts and tribunal buildings open to the public for essential face-to-face hearings, some staffed courts without being open to the public and temporarily suspended courts. The work of the courts and tribunals has been prioritised and divided into categories.

To further promote the use of technology by judiciary several pandemic-related updates were made to the Civil Procedure Rules. Practice Direction 51Y promotes audio and video hearings and open justice. It differentiates private hearings which can be recorded and accessed only in a manner directed by the court and public trials which are accessible by public and media representatives. It further states that the Direction ceases to have effect on the date on which the Coronavirus Act 2020 ceases to have effect according to Section 75 of that Act. Indeed, Section 89 determines the expiry date as the end of the 2 years’ period beginning with the day on which it is passed provided no alteration is made in this regard. Expecting audio and video hearings will still remain part of the procedure post-pandemic similar rules should be provided.

Practice Directions 51Z and 51ZA related to stay of possession proceedings and extension of time limits have been inserted into the CPR. Aiming at delaying possession proceedings, PD 51Z provides that they are stayed for a period of 90 days from 27 March 2020. The rules will cease to apply on 30 October 2020 which might not be reasonable taking into account the start date of the stay and its duration. If the rules apply only to those possession proceedings that have already been brought under CPR Part 55 and seeking to enforce an order for possession, would it be reasonable to set the expiry date of the PD as 30 October 2020? Put differently would the rules cover those claims that are brought between 27 March 2020 and 30 October 2020? Presumably yes, in spite of the current text of the direction lacks a clear indication.

PD 51ZA on the other hand enables the parties to agree an extension up to 56 days without formally notifying the court (rather than the current 28 days). Given that it has been agreed by the court any extension of more than 56 days is also possible. Similar to PD 51Z this Direction also ceases to have effect on 30 October 2020. Even if the Coronavirus Act is still in force for the initially determined two years’ period any extension between 30 October 2020 and 25 March 2022 would not be permitted which might bring controversies.

It should be emphasized that remote hearings and use of technology at trial is not entirely novel. Long before the pandemic and emergency act, English judges have already had wide discretion to hold the hearings and receive evidence by phone or other means of direct oral communication in civil proceedings. Video conferencing and telephone hearings in civil proceedings were introduced by the Access to Justice Act 1999 on the basis of Lord Woolf’s report reviewing civil justice system and discretionary powers of the judges to provide flexible, effective, less costly and less time-consuming litigation. Section 3.1(2) of the CPR determines case management powers of the judges and relevant procedure for telephone hearings and video conferencing is presented in Sections 6 and 7 of Practice Direction 23. The CPR also contains judicial guidance on the use of video conferencing in the civil courts (Annex 3 to the Practice Direction 29.1, which was referred by Barling J in Haider v Syed [2013] EWHC 4079 (Ch)).

It is also worth to recall Practice Direction 51V here which has established “the Video Hearings Pilot Scheme” running between 2 March 2020 and 30 November 2020. Regardless of its limited application only to the procedure setting aside default judgments by the court via an internet-enabled video link (“a video hearing”), together with the outcomes of the recent changes and gained experience they can contribute building a solid basis and practice for future proceedings.

Thus, notwithstanding familiarity with the use of technology in civil proceedings prior to the pandemic and Coronavirus Act, it was applied only to partial extent in relation to the receipt of the evidence from witnesses abroad and in person hearings have been encouraged as a traditional mode of conduct. Upon a sudden reversal of the circumstances face-to-face hearings are neither safe nor practically possible which endorses fully remote hearings. In his message on 19 March, Lord Chief Justice delivered that the procedural rules have already enabled flexible use of the telephone and video hearings by the civil and family courts, however, there might still be legal impediments. Therefore, the HMCTS is expanding availability of diverse technological means including phones, video facilities and Skype. As of the latest updates, besides Skype, Cloud Video Platform (CVP) and BT MeetMe have started to be used in some civil and family hearings.

In response to the COVID-19, the English Commercial Court had its very first fully remote hearing in the case National Bank of Kazakhstan the Republic of Kazakhstan v The Bank of New York Mellon SA/NV London & Ors [2020] EWHC 916 (Comm) on 19 March 2020. The virtual trial involving participants and witnesses from different jurisdictions lasted for four days, publicly accessible livestreaming and daily transcripts were provided in line with the legislation. Mr Justice Teare confirmed that the default position is to avoid adjournments where it is possible and in this regard parties’ cooperation and flexibility are extremely valuable.

As stated, “The courts exist to resolve disputes and, as I noted this morning, the guidance given by the Lord Chief Justice is very clear. The default position now, in all jurisdictions, must be that hearings should be conducted with one, more than one, or all participants attending remotely…” Such a policy aims at prevention of uncertainties arising out of the cases adjourned together with the filed ones which would have been waiting for the trials and getting hardly manageable.

The same approach was followed by the High Court in the case Re One Blackfriars Ltd, Hyde v. Nygate [2020] EWHC 845(Ch) where Mr John Kimbell QC refused the application of the claimants to adjourn, instead ordered the parties to prepare for trial. As commented, “The message is that as many hearings as possible should continue and they should do so remotely as long as that can be done safely”.

Impacts on the Procedural Landscape

Advantages of technological development are evident owing to cost-effectiveness and time friendliness of the remote hearings.  It not only enables participation of the parties or witnesses who are not able to travel within or outside places of their residence but also avoids delays and unnecessary costs except those resulting from the use of technology.

Nevertheless, there are still many issues that might arise and become hurdles for the operation of the proceedings. One issue is related to the fact that not everybody would be able to apply software and cope with the technological means. Although different guidance notes on how to join telephone and video hearings have been provided this does not prevent issues arising from impossibility of using technology by some users due to their unawareness, incapacities or physical conditions. That necessitates sensitivity and presumably creativity for seeking further options. Mr Justice MacDonald highlighted the “Press Here Stupid” guidance as known in the IT circles and asserted that, besides the parties the judiciary also contains a cohort of judges who may not use the software or lack necessary equipment for the operation of a remote hearing.

The HMCTS has provided a local helpline for technical support to join an audio or video hearing. In this regard probably the SIAC or LMAA experience could also be applied and trainings of the remote technology specialists and staff could be designated.

Unpresented parties such as homeless, chaotic due to alcohol or drug use or having mental health issues may also have similar difficulties to attend proceedings remotely by video or telephone. Likewise, not all the participants might have suitable facilities, hard or software utilities.

Another issue arising out of the remote hearings is related to the potential risks for privacy of the parties, as well as judges. The Protocol dated to 20 March 2020 (slightly revised on 26 March 2020) regarding remote hearings considered the communication platforms as non-exhaustive which would enable parties and the court to negotiate in this regard. Yet, confidentiality and privacy of the hearings remain under the risk of detriment. Likewise, backlogs, loss of network and cut-offs in connection are irresistible obstacles for the process. These necessitate extra expenses on technology platform licencing, data protection and more effective equipments for remote hearings.

Different jurisdictions might have varying approaches towards the matter. Section 53 the Coronavirus Act 2020 determines that recording a broadcast from the court or transmission of the proceeding materials by the participants of the live hearings shall count for an offence. By Schedule 25, the Act further inserted special provisions on the use of live video or audio links, public participation and offences of recording to the Courts Act 2003 (Section 85A-85D) and Tribunals, Courts and Enforcement Act 2007 (Section 29ZA-29ZD).

As it had already been presented in section 32 of the Crime and Courts Act 2013, private hearings shall be recorded in a manner directed by the court and the court may decide the hearing to be broadcasted and recorded in a wholly audio or video manner. The recordings might be accessed by the application of any person with the consent of the court, otherwise making or attempting to make any unauthorised recording or transmission of an image or sound during in relation to the broadcast might bring an offence of a person. Except making or use of sound recordings for purposes of official transcripts of proceedings, such unauthorised recordings might bring a contempt of a court in accordance with Section 9 of the Contempt of Court Act 1981.

Regardless of these provisions nothing can guarantee that there will not be any unauthorized recording of the parties or judges or social media posts. Relevant to this, copyright status of the live stream is not entirely clear. This was also raised in National Bank of Kazakhstan case and can be found in the transcript of the second day of the remote hearings. Presumably the court owns copyright since any operation regarding the recordings or streaming needs to get authorization by that court. It would be necessary to get parties’ consent prior to the actual hearings potentially by a particular protocol while filing documents electronically.

Some Thoughts on the Future Perspective

The new way of the hearings will hardly remove the traditional charisma of the courts and in person trials. On the other hand, remote hearings might hardly be possible in complex cases containing mass documentations, third parties and cross-examination of many witnesses. Still, digitisation will presumably continue even after the crisis ends.

In this regard, encompassing actions and a solid strategy are crucial for fixing the discussed problems and achieving constant benefits of technology. Even though implementation of a new initiative would most probably take longer amid timely urgency of the matter lessons could be learned from the status quo as a testing stage, a reasonable action plan could be established and applied post-crisis to achieve long-term effectiveness.

The intense use of technology at trials will advance the already existing fundamental principle of open justice in judiciary even after the crisis. While taking new initiatives judiciary might consider benefits that have already been offered by the ODR procedures for facilitating settlement and resolution of the disputes. Besides creative use of technology, cooperation of the parties with the court and compromise to narrow the disputes would be encouraged.

Along with the legislative measures taken within the borders, a global mechanism providing guidelines on remote hearings and accessible by the states would be useful for certainty and uniform standards at an international level. In this regard, the arbitration community (e.g. ICC, SIAC, ICSID) has been quite rapid in drafting case management updates and guidance documents for minimizing the impact of the COVID-19.

Apart from coronavirus guidelines prepared by various arbitration organizations (e.g. ICC, SIAC), another step in this regard has been the recent Seoul Protocol on Video Conferencing in International Arbitration achieved by Korean Commercial Arbitration Board (KCAB). While looking for innovations particular attention should be placed on the European practice. Videoconferencing has been a widely used tool in Europe both at national and regional levels on the basis of different legal frameworks including the EU regulations and protocols. “Videoconferencing” project has become an integral part of the European e-Justice action plan and the Council and Commission regularly collect and publish good practice and examples of the Member States. These might be helpful while preparing a long-term action plan notwithstanding withdrawal of the United Kingdom from the Union.

Last but not least, the quote of the ancient Greek poet, Euripides is worth to recall here: “Nothing has more strength than dire necessity”. Although the pandemic has brought enormous impacts on the justice systems and resulted in significant uncertainties in the proceedings every cloud has a silver lining. As many others the UK government has also taken serious measures to combat the crisis and reduce its negative effects on judiciary. However, numerous challenges at the testing stage have been eye-openers for the government to gain more insight of the national, regional or international systems, generate more innovative and creative solutions and develop a strategic action plan for the advanced use of technology at trials. These will most likely lead to inevitable revisions of the CPR rules and related statutes in the near future.

The author of this post is Caterina Benini, a PhD student at the Catholic University of the Sacred Heart in Milan. This is the fourth in a series of posts aimed to explore the impact of the coronavirus crisis on the phenomena of mobility and exchange that form the constituent elements of private international law, and to discuss the responses that private international law rules provide to the challenges posed by the crisis itself (see the previous contributions by Giovanni Chiapponi, Matthias Lehmann and Tomaso Ferando). The EAPIL blog welcomes further contributions on these topics, either in the form of comments to the published posts or in the form of guest posts. Those interested in proposing a guest post for publication are encouraged to contact the blog’s editorial team at blog@eapil.org.  


Article 46 of the Italian Decree-Law of 17 March 2020

The Italian government enacted on 17 March 2020 a Decree-Law, i.e. a piece of urgent legislation, in an effort to mitigate the economic and social consequences of the Covid-19 pandemic. The Italian Parliament later endorsed the Decree-Law and converted it into Law.

The Decree-Law sets forth a broad range of measures, some of which relate to employment contracts. In particular, Article 46 of the Decree-Law provides, among other things, that, for a period of 60 days after its entry into force (that is, between 17 March 2020 and 18 May 2020), no employment contract may be terminated on grounds of a failure by the employee to perform his or her obligations, or on objective grounds such as a drop in the demand for the employer’s goods or services.

From the standpoint of private international law, Article 46 gives rise to a set of interpretative problems whenever employment contracts featuring a cross-border element are concerned.

A mandatory rule providing a minimum standard of protection for employees

Article 46 of the Decree-Law applies in principle to all employment relationships governed by Italian law, regardless of whether Italian law is the law chosen by the parties or rather applies to the contract objectively.

In the Member States of the European Union, Article 46 may also come into play, by virtue of Article 8(1) of the Rome I Regulation, in contracts that the parties agreed to submit to a law other than Italian law.

In fact, if the contract would have been governed by Italian law pursuant to Article 8(2), (3) or (4) of the Regulation, the choice of a different law by the parties may not have the result of depriving the employee of the protection afforded to him or her by Article 46. This means, for example, that if an employee who habitually carries out his work in Italy is dismissed during the above stated period, he or she will be able to rely on Article 46, regardless of whether the employer is entitled, under the law chosen by the parties, to terminate the contract.

Given that Article 46 finds hardly any equivalent in other legal systems, Article 8(1) of the Rome I Regulation will almost invariably interfere with the chosen law whenever the issue arises, in a Member State, of an employment contract connected with Italy in the way described in Article 8(2), (3) or (4).

An overriding mandatory provision?

Article 46 of the Decree-Law, it is submitted, further qualifies as an overriding mandatory provision of the Italian legal order within the meaning of Article 9(1) of the Rome I Regulation.

The characterisation of Article 46 as an overriding mandatory provision stems from the fact that it satisfies the two requirements mandated under Article 9(1) of the Regulation: (i) it aims to protect a public interest, and (ii) it is meant to apply to any situation within its own scope, irrespective of the law otherwise applicable to the contract.

As to the first requirement, it is argued that, through the prohibition set out in Article 46, the Italian government aims to protect the stability of social and economic relationships of Italy. Indeed, as mentioned in a press release of 16 March 2020, by adopting a set of measures in support of employment, the government intended to prevent businesses from reacting to the pandemic and any related restriction by suddenly terminating a large number of employment contracts, as this might result, in turn, in social unrest. The fact that in the draft of the new Decree-Law Article 46 is extended for three further months, appears to confirm that the ban on dismissals is part of a broader strategy aimed at preventing conflicts which could possibly arise throughout the coronavirus crisis.

Turning to the second requirement, it is submitted that Article 46 implicitly provides its own scope of application, within which it intends to be applied irrespective of the law otherwise applicable under the relevant conflict-of-law rules.

Lacking any geographical limitation in Article 46 itself, regard should be given to other provisions of the Decree-Law which suggest that the various measures adopted therein are in principle meant to apply only territorially.

The preamble, for instance, makes it clear that the Decree-Law addresses the impact of Covid-19 on the “national social-economic reality”, meaning business, workers and households located in Italy. Furthermore, the scope of some provisions is explicitly limited to the territory of Italy. This holds true for provisions on social security, featured in Chapter I of Title II (“Measures in support of employment”). Article 46, though included in a different chapter of the same title, presents itself as part of the overall strategy adopted to support workers. Arguably, its scope should be geographically limited to situations connected with Italy in the same way as the other measures pursuing that goal.

The qualification of Article 46 as an overriding mandatory rule entails that, pursuant to Article 9(2) of the Rome I Regulation, Article 46 of the Decree-Law will be applied by Italian courts, no matter the law specified by the Regulation itself, to any cross-border employment relationship centred in Italy. In such a scenario, any dismissal justified by the employer’s financial difficulties or by the employee’s impossibility to perform his or her activity would be considered invalid and without effect.

What if the cross-border employment relationship brought before the Italian court is governed by a foreign law and is not connected with Italy? Should Article 46 be applied as an overriding mandatory provision of the forum?

It is argued that in such scenario an Italian court should not apply Article 46 of the Decree-Law, since relationships entirely disconnected from Italy do not fall among the cases to which this provision is meant to apply. Indeed, being Article 46 addressed to situations immediately and directly affected by the Covid-19 crisis and the measures adopted by the Italian government to face it, only cross-border relationships having a genuine connection with Italy – such as when the employee is asked to predominantly perform his or her activity in Italy, or when the employer’s establishment in charge of managing the relationship is situated in Italy – qualify to fall within its scope of application.

Another question of greater complexity is whether an Italian court ought to apply Article 46 of the Decree-Law when the employment relationship displays only a minimum connection with Italy, for instance because the employee was hired in Italy although in fact he or she never worked there.

To solve this issue, it is necessary to understand how intense the connection with the territory of Italy must be for Article 46 to be triggered. Considering the above analysis on the rationale of Article 46, it is argued that cases presenting a minimal connection with Italy fall outside the scope of application of Article 46.

Indeed, if the rationale of Article 46 is to protect the social and economic relations of Italy, there is no reason to apply such rule to employment relationships whose real seat – identified by the place of the employee’s predominant performance or the employer’s establishment – is not located in Italy, so that their termination does not jeopardise the Italian social order.

An overriding mandatory rule of the State of performance of the obligations?

A different issue is whether, and subject to which conditions, Article 46 may be given effect in a Member State other than Italy pursuant to Article 9(3) of the Rome I Regulation, that is, as an overriding mandatory rule of a country than is neither the forum nor the country whose law applies to the contract.

Article 9(3) provides that “[e]ffect may be given to the overriding mandatory provisions of the law of the country where the obligations arising out of the contract have to be or have been performed, in so far as those overriding mandatory provisions render the performance of the contract unlawful”.

Three requirements must be met by a rule of a third State in order to fall within Article 9(3): (i) it must be an overriding mandatory rule pursuant to Article 9(1); (ii) it must be a rule of the country where the contractual obligations have to be or have been performed and (iii) it must render the contractual performance unlawful.

Having already explained why Article 46 is an overriding mandatory rule pursuant to Article 9(1), this section will focus on whether Article 46 can satisfy the remaining requirements.

With respect to the second requirement, for Article 46 to qualify as a rule of the country of the contractual performance, there are two interrelated questions that must be answered: (i) is an act of dismissal an act of performance of a contractual obligation? (ii) If so, where does it take place?

Adhering to the restrictive interpretation given to Article 9 by the ECJ in Nikiforidis, the answer to the first question should be negative: an act of dismissal cannot be strictly defined as an act of performance of whatever obligation arising out of the employment contract. Rather, the dismissal is the act by which the employer exercises the right to unilaterally terminate the contract, precluding the employee from performing his or her obligations towards the employer. As a result of this, Article 46 of the Decree-Law should be denied the effect prescribed by Article 9(3) of the Rome I Regulation.

This conclusion, although aligned with the case-law of the ECJ, does not seem fully satisfactory.

If the main goal of giving effect to the overriding mandatory rules of a third State is to render a decision which is fair because it takes into account the rules of the legal order with which the situation is most closely connected, by interpreting narrowly the notion of “performance of contractual obligations”, such goal cannot be pursued in all those cases where the dispute does not concern the performance of an obligation, but rather the exercise of a right.

It is argued that, if contractual rights and obligations are the two sides of the same coin, it would be unreasonable to consider the place of performance of the contractual obligations as the only place relevant for the purposes of Article 9(3) of the Rome I Regulation, to the detriment of the place of exercise of a contractual right. According to the circumstances of the case, both these places may share a close connection with the relationship at stake so to justify the consideration of their overriding mandatory rules pursuant to Article 9(3) of the Rome I Regulation.

However, as things currently stand, in a dispute concerning the validity of the employer’s exercise of its right to terminate the contract, the court of a Member State, seized of the matter, may give effect, pursuant to Article 9(3) of the Rome I Regulation, to the overriding mandatory rules of the State where the employee performs his or her contractual obligations – which in a cross-border employment relationship is likely not to coincide with the State where the right of dismissal was exercised – with which the issue of the dismissal is not strictly connected.

To avoid such a short circuit, a flexible interpretation of the concept “performance of contractual obligations” should be adopted for the purposes of Article 9(3) of the Rome I Regulation.

An overture to this effect can be seen in the AG Szpunar’s Opinion in the Nikiforidis case. Leveraging on the genuine meaning of the mechanism of overriding mandatory rules of third States – i.e. preserving the connection with the legal order to which the relationship is more strictly connected – AG Szpunar favoured a broad interpretation of the notion “performance of contractual obligations”, as to encompass not only the obligation consisting in characteristic performance, but any obligation arising from the contract (§ 93), irrespective of whether directly defined by the parties in the contract or imposed by law (§ 94).

The step forward to AG Szpunar’s interpretation would be to endorse a contextualized interpretation of the entire notion of “performance of contractual obligations”, so that when the dispute concerns only the credit side of the relationship – which by definition does not encompass the performance of an obligation – the exercise of a right should be understood as equivalent to the performance of an obligation for the purposes of Article 9(3). Along the lines of what AG Szpunar argued, this should hold true both for the exercise of rights conferred by the contract and the exercise of rights conferred directly by the governing law.

As to the place where the creditor’s right is exercised, it is reasonable to localize it at the same place where the creditor is established. This means that in case of an act of dismissal, said place will coincide with the place of establishment of the employer.

Building on such interpretation, Article 46 appears to fulfil the second requirement provided for under Article 9(3) of the Rome I Regulation, being a rule of the country where the statutory right of termination has been or is to be exercised by the employer based in Italy.

The compliance of Article 46 with the unlawfulness requirement set out above is more straightforward. As Article 46 renders unlawful the dismissals of employees on the grounds of the Covid-19 financial difficulties encountered by their employers, also the third requirement set out above is satisfied.

The above is without prejudice to the fact that the decision of whether to give effect to Article 46 of the Decree-Law will be taken by the court seized on the basis of its own discretionary assessment of the nature, purpose and consequences deriving from the application or non-application of such provision.

When performing such assessment, which is political in nature, the court will evaluate whether the rationale underpinning Article 46 can be welcomed as convergent with the values of the forum. In essence, the court will assess whether, on the basis of the policies of its own legal order – including solidarity with other EU Member States – the rule of conduct prescribed by Article 46 of the Italian Decree-Law can be considered justified by the protection of interests that the forum wants to safeguard with the same or a similar degree of intensity adopted by the Italian legislator in Article 46 of the Decree-Law.

This ultimately shows that the application of overriding mandatory rules of third States falling within the category of Article 9(3) of the Rome I Regulation, to put it with AG Szpunar, “creates for the [seized] court the possibility of giving a decision which is fair and at the same time has regard to the need to balance the competing interests of the States involved” (§ 74).

Seen from this perspective, the consideration of the overriding mandatory rules of a third State is an opportunity for the judge to give a decision which is considered fair because aligned with its own values not only by the State enacting the overriding mandatory provision but also by the forum itself. Hence, the broad interpretation of Article 9(3) of the Rome I Regulation above proposed should be welcomed as increasing the cases where such possibility can be granted.

The author of this post is Eduardo Álvarez-Armas, Brunel University London and Université Catholique de Louvain.


As announced in this blog, Anne Peters, Sabine Gless, Chris Thomale, and Marc-Philippe Weller have recently published an interesting and topical paper entitled Business and Human Rights: Making the Legally Binding Instrument Work in Public, Private and Criminal Law.

The paper, a must-read for anyone interested in the Business & Human Rights field, is an enlightening assessment of several issues and recent developments in the area, and very valuable in its transversal approach to its themes, from the standpoint of several different branches of law.

However, the point the paper makes on the determination of the law applicable to torts arising from human rights violations before EU Member-State courts is open for discussion.

In this respect, the position sustained in the paper basically interprets Articles 4(1) and (3) of the Rome II Regulation in a manner that “replicates”, in respect of torts stemming out of a violation of human rights, what has been legislatively enacted in respect of environmental torts in Article 7 of the same Regulation: the enshrinement of the theory of ubiquity (with differences/different rationale with respect to Article 7(2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation, but still the theory of ubiquity, nevertheless), assorted with victim’s choice.

The following are some difficulties encountered by the said interpretative proposal.

The effet utile of Article 7

If Articles 4(1) and (3) could be interpreted the way suggested in the paper, what would be the effet utile of Article 7 then? Surely, the arguments put forward in respect of the interpretation of Articles 4(1) and (3) as regards human-rights violations also cover environmental torts, and therefore, there would have been no need to enact Article 7 to begin with (a provision which was very controversial during the Rome II legislative process).

The structure of Article 4 Rome II

As Article 4(3) is an escape clause, Articles 4(1) and (3) are not placed in an alternative/elective position, but are exclusive from each other. If Article 4(3) applies, then Article 4(1) does not (see notably Recital 18 of the Rome II Regulation). Human-rights-violation victims may try to plead Article 4(3) (a closer connection to another legal system) as a “getaway” from Article 4(1) if they believe that their circumstances allow them to do so. However, they cannot plead that they have a choice as such in choice-of-law terms between Articles 4(1) and (3). Having a free choice of applicable law in one´s hands (as environmental victims do in Article 7) is not the same as having to contend and prove a manifestly closer connection, as Article 4(3) would require.

The points put forward on legal arbitrage and race to the bottom in Prof. Weller’s blog reply to my first brief comment are sensible, and they sustain conceiving human-rights violations in supply chains as “complex torts” (“délits complexes”, “distantdeliktze”) where the action/omission takes place in the parent company’s headquarters and the result materializes in the “host country”. Therefore, as suggested, they may potentially sustain attempting to resort to Article 4(3) to plead for the closer connection to the law of the headquarters of the parent company (provided that evidence allows for it), but they do not seem to sustain an “ubiquity + choice by the victim” construction.

Indeed, I largely share Prof. Weller’s arguments on legal arbitrage and race to the bottom in respect of environmental torts (as a preview of an English monograph coming in 2021 in Hart’s Studies in Private International Law, see E. Álvarez Armas, “Contentieux du droit international privé pour responsabilité environnementale devant le juge européen : la détermination du droit applicable comme outil de gouvernance globale environnementale”, Annales de Droit de Louvain, Vol. 77-1/2017, pp. 63-87; and E. Álvarez Armas, “Daños al medioambiente y Derecho Internacional Privado Europeo: ¿Quid de la determinación de la ley aplicable como herramienta de gobernanza global medioambiental?”, Anuario Español de Derecho Internacional Privado, t. XVIII/2018, pp. 193–225). However, the core difference is that Art. 7, as it stands nowadays, structurally allows for these ideas, while Articles 4(1) and (3) do not.

The ratio legis of Article 4 Rome II

If the rationale of Article 4 of the Rome II Regulation was the protection of victims, then, as Articles 4(1) and (3) are general provisions, nothing would hinder any other victim of torts not specifically covered by “special” provisions(Articles 5 and following) from benefiting from the same construction. This would significantly hinder the foreseeability of the applicable law.

However, the policy rationale of Article 4, as the main provision in the Regulation, is not the protection of victims, but “a reasonable balance between the interests of the person claimed to be liable and the person who has sustained damage” and “the foreseeability of court decisions”, as explained by Recital 16 of the Rome II Regulation. More specifically:

[a] connection with the country where the direct damage occurred (lex loci damni) strikes a fair balance between the interests of the person claimed to be liable and the person sustaining the damage, and also reflects the modern approach to civil liability and the development of systems of strict liability.

These ideas can be tracked back to the explanatory memorandum to the Rome II Proposal, where the EU Commission repeatedly refers to “foreseeability” and “certainty” in the determination of the applicable law, explicitly rejects the theory of ubiquity as a potential general solution to be enshrined in the Regulation’s main rule (p. 11 – penultimate paragraph) and concludes (pp. 11-12) that

[t]he rule also reflects the need to strike a reasonable balance between the various interests at stake. The Commission has not adopted the principle of favouring the victim as a basic rule, which would give the victim the option of choosing the law most favourable to him. It considers that this solution would go beyond the victim’s legitimate expectations and would reintroduce uncertainty in the law, contrary to the general objective of the proposed Regulation. The solution in Article [4] is therefore a compromise between the two extreme solutions of applying the law of the place where the event giving rise to the damage occurs and giving the victim the option.

Precisely, as an exception, the explicit ratio legis of Article 7 Rome II (per Recital 25) is not to protect, but even to favour the victim (favor laesi) by allowing her the prerogative of choosing the applicable law.

Overall, the arguments put forward in the paper may sustain de lege ferenda that an Art. 7 bis be added to Rome II, enshrining the theory of ubiquity and victim’s choice in respect of torts arising from the violation of human rights. However, the current text of the Regulation does not seem to comfort the paper´s interpretative proposal.

On 27 February 2020 the Court of Justice rendered its ruling in Corporis (case C-25/19), a case regarding the interpretation of Solvency II Directive and the Service Regulation.

The Court held that Article 152(1) of the Directive, read in conjunction with Article 151 of the same text and Recital 8 of the Service Regulation (pursuant to which the Regulation ‘should not apply to service of a document on the party’s authorised representative in the Member State where the proceedings are taking place regardless of the place of residence of that party’), must be interpreted as meaning that the appointment by a non-life insurance undertaking of a representative in the host Member State also includes the authorisation for that representative to receive a document initiating court proceedings for damages in respect of a road traffic accident.

Stefano Dominelli provided an account of the ruling in Conflictoflaws. By this post, I would like to add some comments on the issues discussed by the Court.

The ‘novelty’ of the judgment

In general terms, Corporis brings owls to Athens. The Court had already made its point in 2013, in the ruling concerning the Spedition Welter case. It stated then that Article 21(5) of the Motor Insurance Directive must be interpreted as meaning that the claims representative’s sufficient powers must include authority validly to accept service of judicial documents necessary for proceedings for settlement of a claim to be brought before the court having jurisdiction.

The difference between the two cases lies in the content of the preliminary request: unlike the German court in the former case, the Polish court that made the request in the latter case additionally brought the Service Regulation into the picture.

The Court’s findings however remain basically the same. This is somehow evidenced by the fact that the Court considered it could proceed to judgment without the Advocate General’s opinion.

Actually, some domestic courts have already issued judgments going in the same direction. See in particular the ruling of the Portuguese Supremo Tribunal de Justiça of 4 July 2019, and the ruling of the Tribunal da Relação de Guimarães of 17 November 2016 ( which are available through this database), and the ruling of the Landgericht Saarbrücken of 11 May 2015, reproduced in IPRax, 2015, 567. I’m sure there are more, but for the time being I managed to trace the above. Any feedback from other jurisdictions is more than welcome.

The notion of the ‘authorized representative’

Hence, in Corporis the Court reiterates its original views. It does not shed light to the overall question, i.e. what constitutes an authorized representative: first, because it had not been asked to do so, and second, because this seems to be an issue for the national courts to decide.

At least this is the common understanding among courts and scholars.

The fact is, however, that this situation comes, potentially, at a cost for the proper application of the Service Regulation. Burkhard Hess warned about the pitfalls nearly 20 years ago (Die Zustellung von Schriftstücken im europäischen Justizraum, NJW, 2001, 22).

Neither the predecessor of the current Service Regulation (Regulation No 1348/2000) nor the Service Convention drawn up by the Council of the European Union in 1997 (and never entered into force) referred to ‘authorized representatives’. The notion was also missing in the original 2005 Commission’s proposal to amend Regulation No 1348/2000.

The term only appeared in 2006, in the Commission’s proposal that replaced the latter proposal, without any further information. Thomas Rauscher indicates that it was added to solve a problem which appeared in the Dutch legal order. I understand that the introduction came as one of the 35 proposed amendments by the Rapporteur of the European Parliament. To sum up, there’s no clear indication of the rationale which led to the inclusion of the notion into the preamble.

What is noteworthy however, is that the term nay not be treated as equivalent to that of a representative ad litem, as referred to in Article 40(2) of Regulation No 44/2001 (Brussels I). The language employed to in the Service Regulation and in the Brussels I Regulation are not the same: the German version of the two texts refers, respectively, to ‘Bevollmächtigter’ and ‘Zustellungsbevollmächtigter’; the Spanish version refers to ‘representante autorizado’ and ‘mandatario ad litem’; the French version employs ‘représentant mandaté’ and ‘mandataire ad litem’, etc.

The issue under the forthcoming amended Service Regulation

On 31 May 2018, the Commission presented a proposal for a Regulation amending the Service Regulation, which is currently under discussion.

In this framework, the Commission suggested, inter alia, to move the text that is currently included in Recital 8 to Article 1. This change reflects the importance given to the matter, in light of the Alder case, where the CJEU held that the Service Regulation precludes Member States form providing in their legislation that judicial documents addressed to a party whose place of residence is in another Member State are placed in the case file, and deemed to have been effectively served, if that party has failed to appoint a representative who is authorised to accept service and is resident in the State where the judicial proceedings are taking place.

Although the proposal was accepted by the Council, the European Parliament refused to abide. Hence, the second exception to the application of the Regulation will most probably remain ‘hiding in the bushes’…

Extending the boundaries of the judgment

Notwithstanding the above, the judgment of the CJEU in Corporis paves the path to an extensive protection of other parties.

In paragraphs 41-44, the Court accentuates the difficulties faced by the victims of road traffic accidents. For those (insured) persons, the Brussels I Regulation has granted a forum actoris. Now the Court provides them with yet another benefit, i.e. the possibility to serve proceedings within the forum, and without attaching a costly translation.

De lege ferenda, the same level of protection could be granted to other recognized categories of weak(er) parties, such as consumers and employees, in their capacity as claimants against sellers, service providers, or employers.

Beyond insurance companies, one could think of foreign pharmaceutical companies, air carriers, car industries, social network giants, and the like. The fact that the above enterprises did not grant explicit powers to their representatives to receive judicial documents on their behalf shouldn’t be an impediment anymore. This is at least the implication of the CJEU in the Corporis case.

On 2 April 2020, the conclusions of Advocate General Sánchez-Bordona in Verein für Konsumenteninformation v Volkswagen (Case C-343/19) were published. They add a new piece to the puzzle of locating purely economic loss – a much-discussed issue which was recently considered in this blog.

Facts

The case concerned a request by the Landesgericht Klagenfurt (Regional Court in Austria) for a preliminary ruling.  Austrian residents had purchased VW cars in their home country. Thereafter, it became known that the manufacturer had fitted the vehicles with illicit software which enabled them to flout emissions tests. Cars fitted with the software consequently dropped in market value. The buyers assigned their rights arising out of their losses to the Verein für Konsumenteninformation (VKI), an Austrian consumer protection association. VKI subsequently sued VW in Austria for damages. VW contested the jurisdiction of the Landesgericht Klagenfurt.

Legal issue

The request by the Landesgericht Klagenfurt for a preliminary ruling concerns the question of whether the Austrian courts have jurisdiction over VKI’s claim under Article 7(2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation. In cases of tort or delict, Article 7(2) confers special (meaning optional) jurisdiction on  the courts of the place where the harmful event occurred. The CJEU interprets the place where the harmful event occurred as giving the tort victim a choice to sue either: (i) at the place of the event giving rise to the damage; or (ii) at the place where the damage occured. In the present case, the Austrian courts could only have jurisdiction under the second option.   Therefore, the crucial question was: where, on the present facts, did the damage ‘occur’ within the meaning of under Article 7(2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation.

Opinion of the Advocate General

Advocate General Sánchez-Bordona took the view that the damage occurred in Austria and that, consequently, the courts there had jurisdiction over the case under Article 7(2) of the Brussels I bis Regulation.

Legal standard

The Advocate General pointed to three well known precedents for determining the location of purely financial loss: Kolassa, Universal Music and Löber. In his view, these three CJEU judgments establish that the actual place where the damage occurred is only the starting point for determining the competent court. Thereafter, other specific circumstances of the dispute, taken as a whole would have to be considered (paragraph 56).

The Advocate General considered that such ‘other specific circumstances’ could include “1. factors relevant to the proper administration of justice and the effective conduct of proceedings; and 2. factors which may have served to form the parties’ views about where to bring proceedings or where they might be sued as a result of their actions.” (paragraph 67).

Further, the Advocate General pointed to the dual principles of proximity and foreseeability of the competent court, between which a reasonable balance must be struck (paragraphs 63-64).

Application to the present case

Applying these standards to the present case, the Advocate General opined that, in general, the location of the cars as tangible objects was irrelevant because it is unforeseeable (paragraphs 71-73). He instead considered the correct starting point for locating the loss to be the act through which the product became part of the victims’ patrimony, thereby causing the damage (paragraph 74). Hence, he identified the place of loss to be the place where the transaction for the purchase of the car was concluded (id.).

The Advocate General further viewed this location to be unaffected by the other specific circumstances of the case. In particular, the jurisdiction of the Austrian courts would have been foreseeable for the Defendant (paragraph 80).

Assessment

The result reached by the Advocate General is certainly agreeable. The purchasers of rigged cars should not be forced to start legal proceedings at the seat of the manufacturer. Rather, they should have the ability to sue the tortfeasor closer to their homes. The same place should also be used to identify the applicable law to their claims under Article 4 of the Rome II Regulation.

It may, however, be a little too simplistic to identify the place of loss as the place of the relevant sales transactions. This place is notoriously uncertain, fortuitous, and vulnerable to manipulation. The purchasers could, for instance, have met the vendor at a car fair, or they could have bought the cars in another country for tax reasons. Should this really determine the location of their loss? Moreover, ‘locating’ a sales transaction can be very tricky; for instance, in the case of purchases on the internet. For these reasons, the law of the place where the contract was concluded (lex loci solucionis) was largely ousted from the conflicts rules for contractual obligations. It would be paradoxical if it made a comeback through non-contractual obligations.

The other circumstances of the case should be taken more seriously. These other factors could, for instance, include the purchasers’ domicile and the place where they mostly use the cars. It is indeed a combination of factors that must be used in cases like the present one to determine the place where the damage occurred.

The author of this post is Tomaso Ferando, Research Professor at the University of Antwerp. This is the third in a series of posts aimed to explore the impact of the coronavirus crisis on the phenomena of mobility and exchange that form the constituent elements of private international law, and to discuss the responses that private international law rules provide to the challenges posed by the crisis itself (see the previous contributions by Giovanni Chiapponi and Matthias Lehmann). The EAPIL blog welcomes further contributions on these topics, either in the form of comments to the published posts or in the form of guest posts. Those interested in proposing a guest post for publication are encouraged to contact the blog’s editorial team at blog@eapil.org.   


If we leave aside for a second the worrisome death toll that the covid-19 virus is claiming, there is no doubt that the spread of the virus from one wet market in Wuhan to more than 162 countries sheds light on interesting aspects of the contemporary world such as the existence of privileged patterns of human mobility that can facilitate the diffusion of diseases, the impact of aviation and daily commuting on greenhouse gases emissions, and the porosity of national borders (and people’s minds) when the threat is hidden in the lungs of businesspeople and tourists rather than in the lives of refugees and economic migrants.

Among economists, the ongoing pandemic has also triggered concerns with regards to the slowdown in production and consumption and the consequences that it is having on global growth’s projection, international trade and the performances of specific sectors such as manufacturing, energy, aviation and tourism. In the words of Japanese Finance Minister Taro Aso: “The spread of the new coronavirus is a public health crisis that could pose a serious risk to the macro economy through the halt in production activities, interruptions of people’s movement and cut-off of supply chains.”

The reliability of supply chains, i.e. the complex network of people, materials and logistic that makes the continuous provision of goods and services possible, is under the spotlight. In few weeks, the alleged efficiency of global networks of production has been compromised by the lockdowns of the Hubei province imposed by the Chinese Government, by the emergency measures adopted by countries all over the planet and by the change in patterns of consumption, with some goods that experienced unexpected high demand and other that lost any traction.

In a global scenario characterized by hyper-reliance on China as the factory of the world, the isolation of 15 Chinese provinces that was ordered at the end of January did not really matter because it concerned more than 57 million people, which is less than 1% of the global population. It mattered because that corner of the world is responsible for almost 90% of the Chinese GDP and 80% of the Chinese export: despite the global nature of the supply chains, it didn’t take long for such geographically defined measures to generate enormous repercussions on the global economy.

In the last weeks, Global Value Chains’ experts, governments, workers and citizens have been increasingly reflecting on the high level of risk and fragility that is intrinsic to overly integrated and interdependent value chains that rely on just-on-time worldwide logistic, depend on the supply of components provided by hundreds of intermediary producers located in different corners of the planet (although mainly in China) and are based on the uninterrupted coordination among all the parties involved – regulators, producers, traders, retailers and consumers alike. After the Japanese earthquake that suspended numerous production line, covid-19 seems to be the ultimate stress test for the global economic system: one that may leave the world economy – and global health – significantly changed.

For lawyers interested in the relationship between law, global capitalism and the production and allocation of value across jurisdictions and among people, there is no doubt that the speed of the economic contagion and the content of the regulatory responses aimed at mitigating or preventing the economic contagion provide a new opportunity to discuss the central role that law plays in constructing, weakening, preserving, oiling and – in some cases – destroying,  the multi-layered, multi-territorial, inter-dependent and extremely fragile expression of contemporary financial capitalism that is often described with the less controversial notion of Global Value Chains.

Why does law matter for Global Value Chains?

Although it may not be evident, law is central to the existence, functioning and distributive processes that are related to global value chains. This is certainly the case of contract law, which is often represented as the backbone of a complex system of horizontal interaction between suppliers and purchasers, the glue that keeps them together and that guarantees, through a system of standards, requirements, alternative dispute resolution mechanisms and public enforcement (and along with reputation and the possibility of long-term commercial relationships), that goods and services of the right kind are delivered on time – normally by the global brand company that consumers recognize. But this is not all. As we discuss in the Manifesto on The Role of Law in Global Value Chains, the link between law and supply chains go beyond the organization and management of their complexity and concerns the creation and allocation of value itself: property law, labor law, trade and investment law, intellectual property law, health and safety law, tort law, etc. not only determine commercial choices on where to source, the logistic routes to follow and the overall geographical footprint of the chain, but also who will be appropriating the value generated by the combination of labor, nature and capital.

When we think at the impact that the lockdown in the Hubei province had on a car manufacturer like Toyota, that relies on 2,192 distinct firms (both direct and indirect suppliers) to source and assemble the circa 30,000 pieces needed to produce a car, we can certainly think at the contractual implications of delays and breaches or, as suggested by the Digital Supply Chain Institute, at the way global brands may use contract to “develop an ecosystem of suppliers that have a commitment to meeting your requirements, even in the face of challenges,” an advice that we may interpret as the construction of legal obligations that overcome the economic and logistic difficulties of lockdowns. But this is not everything.

Another way of thinking about law, coronavirus and global value chains is to ask what legal structures have contributed to the construction of chains, like automotive, precision instruments and communication equipment, that are strongly dependent on the inputs originating from one country. Then, we would not talk about contracts, but about trade liberalization, the adoption of the TRIPs, labor and fiscal requirements, the non-internalization of environmental externalities in China or in the market of destination, the use of legislation to provide public subsidies to oil, and the whole set of legislative and regulatory forces that pushed production away from Europe and the United States and pulled it into China. From this perspective, law in its widest and most diverse meaning is one of the main reasons why the global economy is structured around supply chains and the health crisis has triggered a rapid economic contagion.

Moreover, law is central to the responses offered by governments across the world in their attempt to limit the impact of the economic contagion or improve their position in the supply chain by seizing a larger share of the – future and possible – pie (what is generally known as ‘upgrading’). For example, governments around the world may perceive the slowdown in Chinese production as an opportunity to provide financial and regulatory support the production sites capable of filling the current gap or to attract future investments by companies interested in diversifying their sourcing or in delocalizing away from a region where production is particularly exposed to health risks. Similarly, governments of countries strongly dependent on oil and commodity export (like Saudi Arabia, Chile, Brazil, Norway, etc.) may use their regulatory and legislative powers to reduce the cost of production and extraction – with the consequent implications on society and the environment – or try to create the conditions to diversify their economies and reduce their exposure to the systemic risk of a highly interconnected economy.

Independently on the regulatory or legislative interventions that will be adopted, there is no doubt that law will be central to designing the future geographies of global supply capitalism. More importantly, law already has a core role in redefining the way in which value is extracted and distributed and on the allocation of power between workers, capital and nature. With the help of one concrete example, the next section shows the importance of adopting a systemic approach to the interaction between supply chains and law, specifically through the lenses of value, coercion and redistribution.

Law and State of Necessity at the Service of Global Value Chains

We all know too well that masks and hand sanitizers may significantly reduce the risk of contagion. We also know that they are in high demand, extremely hard to find and that stocks cannot be produced at the speed that is needed by hospitals, let alone the totality of the world population. What may be less known is that before the outbreak of the virus China – yes, China – was producing more than a half of the N95 sanitary masks used by medical personnel around the planet, and that in the last month the number has multiplied by ten thanks to the financial support of the government and the conversion of factories from iPod assemblers into masks producers.

Given the dependence on Chinese provisions and the limited national production, individual European countries and the European Union stepped into the supply chain: public procurement, legally determined maximum prices and export bans have been three of the measures adopted to redesign the shape and reach of the chains. In particular, Italy, Czech Republic, Germany and France used their regulatory powers to ban or require ad hoc administrative authorization to the export of any protective equipment, directly redefining the extension and distributive effects of the global supply chain. In this context, the European Commission represents an illustrative example of the multiple ways in which law and regulatory power can shape the geography and content of supply chains. On 14 March, the Commission threatened to open an infraction procedure against Germany to favor the conclusion of a deal with Italy for the purchase of 1 million masks: the fear of a sanction opened a new route for the global supply chain of masks that would have otherwise not being in place. On 15 March, it published the so-called implementing act requiring that any export of face masks and medical to non-EU countries be subject to authorization by member states, thus limiting the possibility of the supply chains to reach third countries and their people. On 16 March, it launched a joined public procurement with member states for testing kits and respiratory ventilators. And the lockdowns have only started.

However, the story of the global supply of masks and hand sanitizers is not only one of public incentives, trade dependence on China and the strategic use of the state of health necessity to justify restrictions to trade or interventions in the global supply chain with significant impact on the availability of crucial medical equipment across Europe and in countries outside the EU potentially less prepared than the European Union in avoiding the contagion. The sudden surge in the demand for medical equipment is also the story of the women and men who in the production lines across the planet and the competition between countries and producers to guarantee a cheap and quick supply.

In Taiwan, Czech Republic, Kerala, Israel and Hong Kong alike, hundreds of thousands of prisoners have been organized in production lines to supply their ‘unfree’ labor to the global demand for masks and sanitary products, a situation that border on paradox if we consider the recent strikes in Italian prisons due to the poor hygienic conditions and the draconian confinement measures introduced to prevent the spread of the virus among prisoners. In Hong Kong, women inmates at the Lo Wu prison have volunteered – or been asked, according to other sources – to work night shifts to make 2.5m face masks a month for a monthly compensation of HK$800 (£80), a sum that is significantly under Hong Kong’s minimum wage. In Israel, inmates in the Ayalon and Rimonim prisons – two of the complexes where Palestinian prisoners have recently been on hunger strike – have been producing  face masks will serve police officers, firefighters and health inspectors. In the State of New York, the governor has promised that 100 gallons a week of “NYS Clean” will be distributed for free to residents, schools and the Metropolitan Transportation Authority: behind them, there is the work of nearly 100 inmates in the State’s prisons who perceive an average hourly salary of $0.65 cents, significantly lowered than the $15 an hour in New York and $11.10 in the rest of the state.

Yet, poorly paid and exploited labor is not only a prerogative of newly established supply chains aimed at providing cheap and abundant emergency medical equipment. In these weeks more than ever, factory and logistic workers who cannot operate from remote are fighting an even harder battle against emergency decrees that often abide by the imperatives of competitiveness, productivity and the need to keep the global supply chain running. Because, even in the state of necessity and the risk for the workers’ health, there are supply chains that have not been halted or – tin the case of logistic workers and couriers – there has been an increase in demand. Excluded from the lockdown, factory workers and operators in the logistic sector depend on the decisions of their employers and on the implementation of safety measures that are often incompatible with the production line and the security procedures.

In Italy, for example, FCA Fiat Auto decided not to close the factories producing intermediate components for international supply chains and the National Association of the Automotive Industrial Chain (Antia) released a manifesto on behalf of the Italian automotive sector asking “workers to resist and continue in the effort to maintain the international competitiveness of one of the leaders of the Italian economy.” The fear of losing its place in the global supply chain and the absence of a strong regulatory intervention converge in requiring workers to leave the safety of their houses and assume a higher risk than most of the national workforce. In the logistic sector, Amazon has announced 100,000 new jobs to increase its emergency delivery capacity both in Europe and the United States. The positive moment for the company and the need to keep the business going have their repercussions on workers and working conditions. In Italy, the Amazon workers in Torrazza, Piedmont, organized a protest against the company’s decision not to close the operations after one of the employees tested positive to covid-19 and to just quarantine part of the workforce and sanitize the warehouse. In Piacenza, near Milan, Amazon warehouse workers are on strike to denounce the company’s lack of appropriate response to the multiple coronavirus cases across Europe and the incompatibility between the company’s procedures and the health and safety requirements imposed to the whole country with the Decree on 10 March. Not to talk about the truck drivers, farm workers and the deliverers whose work is essential to making everyone else’s isolation possible and is legally excluded from the lockdown but have not received any specific form of guidance, protection and support in the legal construction of the state of emergency.

Law and Global Value Chains after covid-19

The coronavirus pandemic is already leaving an indelible mark on both global health and global economy. In this context, the role of law as one of the main tools the construction of interdependent world and interconnected supply chains cannot be overlooked. Similarly, a systemic and critical approach to law can help better understanding the rationale and distributive effects of national and regional interventions at the time of the global state of emergency. Yet, it is also important to focus on the space that law will play in shaping lives, interactions and commercial interconnections once the biological threat is over. As a matter of fact, there are at least three main lessons that we can learn from what is happening.

1. First of all, it is clear that states, national economies and citizens (above all non-skilled workers, consumers, and the most vulnerable) are exposed to highly volatile and fragile global supply chains. Law was central to the construction of the present complexity and could be a passive observer of the continuous delocalization of production away from Europe into the neighbor countries or in the loss of works without any form of public support. However, it can also intervene to subordinate market dynamics to the needs and interests of the public. Financial and regulatory incentives, bans, public procurement, universal basic income, fiscal coordination and other measures can be adopted to shape and redesign the geographies and distributive implications of global commodity capitalism. Why, therefore, not using this opportunity to rethink the relationship between states, supply chains and citizens? Why not recognizing the precariousness of supply chains and recognize the inevitability of legislative measures aimed at redistributing wealth and income? Why not using public prerogatives to build resilient, affordable, sustainable and reliable chains – for example for food and medical equipment – that guarantee citizens’ rights and essential needs and are spared from the uncertainties and profit-driven prerogatives of global competitiveness?

2. Secondly, the pandemic is revealing what jobs (factory and logistic workers) are truly essential to global supply capitalism and how their indispensability is often twisted against them to ask for more without providing enough (for example, going to work even if they are exposed to high risk of contagion). Yet, the actions of resistance undertaken in Piacenza, Torrazza and in other logistic and production sites across the world reveal the disruptive potential of strikes and protests in the context of just-on-time and transnationally coordinated supply chains. In the absence of adequate responses from the state and their employers, warehouse, automotive and manufacturing workers in Italy – and soon elsewhere in the world – are leveraging their power as potential choke points of transnational supply chains, bottlenecks of disruption in a system that depends on their labor but does not recognize it with salaries and precautions. In light of, national labor law will territorialize the transnational character of supply chains and co-define their pace and the distributional implications: will future labor law continue to be conceived as an opportunity to smoothen global production and circulation of goods/services? Will it favor automation and the replacement of humans with machines in order not to lose investments and growth opportunities? Or will it recognize the centrality of workers in the continuation of global supply capitalism and strike a new balance?

3. Finally, the health-economic crisis is highlighting the socio-environmental risks behind the mantra of competitiveness and the continuous search for cheap inputs (labor, nature, animals, etc.). The economic downturn is closely linked with the hyper-dependence on China as the (cheap) global factory. Some of the last epidemics (covid-19, swine flu, avian flu and the ‘mad cow’) were all triggered by lack of consideration for animals and the dire exploitation of their flesh and environment. On the other hand, the reduction in greenhouse gases, the rediscovery of social interactions, the abandonment of unnecessary consumerism and the rebirth of solidarity are proving that human and non-human beings can – and must – go slower. This is not an invitation of a perennial state of exception, but an invitation to assessing the compatibility of global supply capitalism with the objectives and limits of people and planet. Are we going to get more or the same or take advantage of this situation to pause and reflect? So far, the use of underpaid inmates to address the urgent need for increased production of masks and hand sanitizers and the reduction in the price of oil to stimulate the economy demonstrate that both private and public solutions to the crises have been looked for within the same unsustainable framework. Without a shift away from cheapness and competitiveness, the interlinked future of supply chains, health and global economy can only be bound to more crises, more contagions, more deaths and more precariousness. Is it too ambitious to join Capra and Mattei and hope that lawyers will be in the front line of a radical move away from social and environmental self-destruction and in the adoption of new a new paradigm that does not see law as an enabler of value accumulation through global supply chains but as a tool to build a new ecological order informed by principles of environmental and social justice?

This is the second in a series of posts aimed to explore the impact of the coronavirus crisis on the phenomena of mobility and exchange that form the constituent elements of private international law, and to discuss the responses that private international law rules provide to the challenges posed by the crisis itself (see the other contributions on the topic by Giovanni Chiapponi and Tomaso Ferrando).


The Covid-19 pandemic is on everybody’s mind. Around the world, countermeasures limit public life and freedom of movement, especially cross-border traffic. This raises the question to which extent Private International Law is relevant and capable of handling this new situation. Here are some provisional thoughts on the potential impact of travel bans and other emergency measures under the Rome I and II Regulation.

Transport contracts

Some countries have restricted free movement for persons coming from areas affected by the Corona virus. Austria, for instance, does not allow people coming from Italy into its territory, while the US has just banned travel from Europe. As a result, flights, trains and bus trips have been cancelled.

For courts in the EU (with the exception of Denmark), the law governing these transport contracts is regulated by Art 5 of the Rome I Regulation. The fallback rule is that the law of the habitual residence of the passenger applies (Article 5(2) Rome I). The trickier question, however, is which impact the local law at the place of destination might have on the contract.

EU courts have to search for the answer in Article 9 of the Rome I Regulation. The prohibition to enter the territory of a Member State certainly qualifies as an overriding mandatory rule in the sense of paragraph 1 of the provision. Should the courts of that same Member State decide over the case, they would apply this provision as part of their lex fori (see Article 9(2) Rome I).

The court of another Member State, for instance those of the place of departure, may give effect to the overriding mandatory rules of the state of destination because the contract is to be performed there (see Article 9(3) Rome I). In case the latter has prohibited all travel, this would render the performance of the contract unlawful in the sense of the provision. Mind that the courts of the other states have discretion whether to give effect to the travel ban (see the word “may” in Article 9(3) Rome I).

Cancelled or Postponed Events

The virus has led to the cancellation of events around the world, from congresses to concerts and soccer matches. Usually, the tickets to these events will be subject to the local law where the event takes place.

However, this is not always the case. The parties may have chosen another law (Article 3 Rome I). The consumer protection rules do not interfere with this choice when the event takes place in a state in which the consumer does not have its habitual residence (see Article 6(4)(a) Rome I). In the absence of a choice, the law at the habitual residence of the service provider applies (Article 4(1)(b) Rome I). If it is – as usual – a corporate entity, the law at the place of its central administration governs (Article 19(1) Rome I). These laws may be replaced by that of a branch that has concluded or executed the contract (Article 19(2) Rome I).

If as a result a foreign law governs the contract, the law of the place of the event may be applied as an overriding mandatory rule under the conditions set by Article 9 Rome I. Insofar, the same considerations as for transport contracts apply. Where the law of the event does not call for a full cancellation but rather for some changes, such as a postponement or the shift to another place, this law may be taken into account as the law of the place of performance (lex loci solutionis) under Article 12(2) of the Rome I Regulation.

Cancelled or Delayed Deliveries

Where deliveries of goods were cancelled or postponed, the solution is much the same as for events. The law of the place of performance may apply either as an overriding mandatory provision under Article 9 of the Rome I Regulation or is to be taken into account as lex loci solutionis under Article 12(2) of the Regulation.

An interesting extension of the concept of public policy rules can be observed in China: According to a recent post on Chinese law a Chinese authority is issuing so-called force majeure certificates pretending to absolve Chinese companies from the need to fulfil contracts with foreign parties. The author assumes that courts of the People’s Republic could consider these certificates as part of public policy even in the absence of compulsory government orders.

From an EU viewpoint, the assessment is quite different. European courts apply legal concepts independently of measures taken by administrative authorities. And while compulsory restrictions certainly qualify as overriding mandatory rules, the same is not true for the doctrine of force majeure, which does not meet the requirements of Article 9(1) of the Rome I Regulation.

European courts will therefore follow this concept only where it is part of the law governing the contract, and assess independently whether its conditions are met. They can merely take into account, as a matter of fact, mandatory provisions at the place of performance if the applicable substantive law so allows (see to this effect the ruling of the Court of Justice in Nikiforidis, para 51).

Infections

It is hard to identify the source of a Corona infection, but it may not be impossible. A victim may for instance sue the operator of a foreign airport, hospital or hotel for the failure to take appropriate precautions. If both parties are privy to a contract, the law applicable to that contract will decide over the necessary measures, including duties of information and warning in the pre-contractual phase (Article 12 Rome II).

It is also possible that the parties are not contractually bound to each other. Imagine for instance a passenger of a flight suing another passenger who has neglected her infection. Which law applies? EU courts will have to search for the solution in the Rome II Regulation.

A first idea that might spring to mind is to apply Article 7 of the Rome II Regulation, which deals with environmental damages. Yet Recital 24 of the Regulation defines ‘environmental damage’ as ‘adverse change in a natural resource, such as water, land or air, impairment of a function performed by that resource for the benefit of another natural resource or the public, or impairment of the variability among living organisms’. The virus travels mainly by air, but arguably, it does not change this natural resource. Its negative effects are on the health of other individuals. While one may debate this assessment, it seems certain that Corona does not impair fauna’s variation.

Hence the general rule of Article 4 of the Rome II Regulation applies. The first, rather curious, result is that any claim is governed by the law of the common habitual residence of the sick and the infected person (Article 4(2) Rome II). The dispute between two Italian residents flying on a plane from Frankfurt to Moscow would thus be governed by Italian law, unless there is a manifestly closer connection (Article 4(3) Rome II).

If the parties to the dispute reside in different states, then the law of the place where the damage occurred applies (Article 4(1) Rome II). Airplanes are considered as being part of the territory of the country where they are registered. The suit of a Swedish passenger against a Swiss resident arising out of a flight from Stockholm to Geneva in a plane registered in Ireland would thus be governed by Irish law.

Cross-border infections, for instance by sending contaminated goods or livestock, are also governed by the law of the place of damage (Article 4(1) Rome II) or by the common habitual residence of the parties (Article 4(2) Rome II). Mind you, however, that the rules of safety and conduct at the place where the tortfeasor acted have to be taken into account (Article 17 Rome II). Thus, when infected animals are sent from Rome to Paris, the sanitary restrictions of Italian law would have to be considered by a court in the EU. But this is only the case insofar as they “appropriate”, which gives the judges some leeway.

These results can again be influenced by overriding mandatory rules of the forum (Article 16 Rome II). Whether the court can also apply foreign overriding mandatory rules under the Rome II Regulation is subject to dispute. This should however be allowed given that it is also possible under the Rome I Regulation (Article 9(3) Rome I).

Conclusion

These considerations only concern private international law and leave out interesting questions of substantive law, such as those relating to force majeure, frustration or impossibility, which may be decided differently in each Member State. Moreover, it has already been indicated that they are merely provisional thoughts. It remains to be seen in which exact shape and form conflict-of-laws issues will arise from Covid-19.

In May 2018, the European Commission published a proposal for a Regulation amending the 2001 Evidence Regulation. The name of the proposal immediately clarifies the lack of ambition of the project: the intention is to amend the existing text, not to recast it.

The Commission Proposal

The Proposal aims at improving the 2001 Regulation by: using electronic transmission as the default channel for electronic communication and document exchanges; promoting modern means of taking evidence such as videoconferencing and incentives (via the financing of national projects) for Member States to equip courts with videoconferencing facilities; removing legal barriers to the acceptance of electronic (digital) evidence; tackling divergent interpretations of the term ‘court’;  communicating the importance of the uniform standards provided by the Regulation (streamlined procedures, equal standard of protection of the right of the parties involved); best practices for competent courts, to help them apply the procedures properly and without delay; and raising courts’ and legal professionals’ awareness of the availability of the direct channel of taking evidence under the Regulation.

On 13 February 2019, the European Parliament adopted its first-reading position on the proposal, with 37 amendments to the text of the Commission.

On 29 November 2019, the Council of the European Union adopted a general approach of the text.

The main purpose of the proposal is to improve transmission of requests and communication by using modern communication technology. There is no doubt that this is an important concern. Yet, the operation of the Evidence Regulation arguably raises much more important issues.

The Optional Regulation

The Evidence Regulation should further European integration by facilitating and expediting the taking of evidence in other Member States.

Instead, it is the experience of many European practitioners that the Regulation does just the opposite. It creates obstacles, and slows down the taking of evidence abroad. The reason is simple: the Regulation requires the intervention of authorities in the requested state as a preliminary step to the taking of evidence abroad. The most liberal provision in this respect is Article 17, which introduced “Direct taking of evidence by the requesting court” in other Member States. But even under Article 17, it is necessary to “submit a request to the central body or the competent authority” of the requested state.

The European Union has abolished the exequatur procedure for judgments rendered in civil and commercial matters. Under the Brussels II bis Regulation, decisions on the return of a child are immediately enforceable and may not be challenged in the requested state, even for alleged violations of human rights. But the taking of evidence abroad is still subject to a preliminary procedure. The system completely lags behind.

In Lippens and ProRail, the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU) addressed the issue by ruling that the application of the Evidence Regulation was not mandatory, and that Member States could simply ignore it and take evidence abroad under their own procedures, without seeking any kind of approval from the requested state. In particular, the CJEU ruled in ProRail:

43. (…) it must be recalled that, according to recitals 2, 7, 8, 10 and 11 in the preamble to Regulation No 1206/2001, the aim of the regulation is to make the taking of evidence in a cross-border context simple, effective and rapid. The taking of evidence, by a court of one Member State in another Member State must not lead to the lengthening of national proceedings. (…)

45. An interpretation of Articles 1(1)(b) and 17 of Regulation No 1206/2001 according to which the court of a Member State is obliged, for any expert investigation which must be carried out directly in another Member State, to take evidence according to the method laid down by those articles would not be consistent with those objectives. In certain circumstances, it may be simpler, more effective and quicker for the court ordering such an investigation, to take such evidence without having recourse to the regulation. 

The CJEU however reserved cases where the taking of evidence would affect the powers of the requested Member State.

The Proposal of the Commission does not address the optional character of the Regulation. This means that the future amended Regulation will remain an optional instrument that the courts of the Member States are free to (continue to) ignore.

Liberalizing the Taking of Evidence in Other Member States

The most important issue that the Proposal does not tackle, however, is that of the obstacles that the Regulation creates in the taking of evidence abroad, and that litigants avoid by resorting to national law.

During the legislative process which lead to the adoption of the initial Evidence Regulation, Germany had proposed to fully liberalize the operation of judicial experts in other Members States. Under this exception, courts could appoint a judicial expert to carry out his mission in other Member States without any need for a preliminary procedure in the requested state. The exception was eventually not adopted. However, this is exactly what the CJEU has allowed in ProRail, which was concerned with the operation of a judicial expert in another Member State.

The reform of the Evidence Regulation was thus the perfect opportunity to reconsider the issue. A much more ambitious reform would have attempted to identify cases where the taking of evidence abroad could be liberalized by abolishing any preliminary procedure, and cases where some kind of involvement of the requested state would still appear to be justified.

Instead, the European lawmaker is about to ignore the problem and, by doing so, to generate considerable uncertainty.

Disclosure: the author was a member of the expert group established by the European Commission for the purpose of drafting the Proposal of the Commission.

The author of this post is Marlene Brosch, senior research fellow at the MPI Luxembourg.


The first advisory opinion of the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR) under Protocol 16 to the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR), rendered on 19 April 2019, tackled no less than the highly sensitive and controversial topic of surrogacy motherhood in the well-known Mennesson case – in particular, the recognition of the intended, non-biological mother’s legal parenthood.

The opinion from Strasbourg and the subsequent judgment of the French Court of Cassation have already triggered numerous comments and reactions (notably on this blog; see also here and here). This post aims to raise some procedural aspects of overarching interest.

From hierarchy to cooperation: the change of procedural perspective

The kick-off Mennesson case illustrates the structural change envisaged by Protocol 16 to implement human rights compliance in the Contracting States. The hierarchical approach through the condemnation of France in 2014 shifted to the cooperative, dialogical approach initiated by the Cour de Cassation through the advisory opinion request.

It should be reminded that the judicial dialogue would not have been possible in this first case if the French legislator had not paved the way, in 2016, for the re-opening of proceedings on personal status matters following a judgment of the ECtHR affirming a violation of the Convention.

In this respect, it is worth considering whether domestic rules for the re-examination of a final decision could also be interpreted as applying to advisory opinions. Could the non-binding, yet factual authority of advisory opinions lead to a review of a final domestic judgment rendered previously on the issue in question?

The role of the advisory opinion procedure within the adjudicative function of the ECtHR

The amended Rules of Procedure of the ECtHR do not explicitly clarify the processing order between individual applications under Article 34 ECHR, on the one hand, and requests for an advisory opinion under Protocol 16, on the other. However, given the nature of the questions referred (“questions of principle”), Rule 93 (2) specifies that “requests for advisory opinions shall be processed as a matter of priority […]”.

This priority is indeed crucial. The domestic proceedings are usually stayed during the advisory opinion procedure, and, in light of the fundamental rights issues involved, delays before the ECtHR may have severe impacts on the domestic case.

This priority order was precisely put into practice within the first advisory opinion procedure. A few months before the Cour de Cassation filed the request for an advisory opinion, two individual applications were lodged against France under Article 34 ECHR concerning the very same issue, i.e., the recognition of the legal parenthood of the intended, non-biological mother. The Grand Chamber delivered the advisory opinion within a record-breaking period of only six months after the Cour de Cassation had filed the request.

About half a year later, in November 2019, the joint judgment concerning the individual applications was rendered in line with the advisory opinion. This timing seems to indicate that the ECtHR includes advisory opinions in its case-law with a “leading function” to decide on identical or similar individual complaints expeditiously.

Outlook towards Luxembourg

Incidentally, the issue of parental rights and surrogacy is also occupying the CJEU. In the pending Merly case (T-505/19), a staff member of the European Parliament (EP) seeks the annulment of an EP decision refusing to grant him adequate special leave to take care of his twin children newly born via surrogacy. In C.D. (C-167/12) the ECJ tackled a similar situation concerning maternity leave for the intended mother, which was denied under EU employment directives.

However, in the pending case before the General Court, the applicant directly claims a violation of the right to respect his family life under Article 8 ECHR in conjunction with Article 14 ECHR.

Thus, further implications of the recent developments in Strasbourg remain to be seen.

On 29 January 2020, the Rechtbank Rotterdam (a Dutch court of first instance) ruled on the law applicable to claims by investors against the Brazilian company Petrobas. The case concerns the long-disputed localisation of financial or economic loss under Article 4(1) of the Rome II Regulation on the law applicable to non-contractual obligations. The Dutch court has added a new piece to the puzzle by adopting a market-based approach.

Background

The claims of the investors are related to the so-called Petrolāo scandal (Portuguese for “big oil”, also known as “operation car wash” because it was first exposed by the owner of a car wash service with money exchange), which has shattered Latin America and involves well-known figures, such as the former Brazilian president Lula da Silva.

The allegations centre on money laundering and endemic corruption in Petrobas, which has led to a steep fall in its share price. The investors try to recoup their corresponding losses. The litigation has a global dimension given that Petrobas’ securities are listed around the world, including in Argentina, Germany, Luxembourg, Spain, and the United States (in the form of American Depository Receipts – ADR).

Procedure

The proceedings before the Rechtbank Rotterdam had been preceded by litigation in the US, where the District Court for the Southern District of New York threw out the claims of investors who had bought securities listed outside the United States as early as 2015. After that, a Dutch foundation (“stichting“) was created to pursue the claims of these investors in the Netherlands. No Petrobas shares were traded there: The choice of venue was entirely attributable to the favourable attitude of the Dutch legal system towards collective actions. By a decision of 19 September 2018, the Rechtbank Rotterdam accepted international jurisdiction over the foundation’s claim against Petrobas. Now it had to decide over the applicable law to the claims of the investors’ litigation vehicle.

Application of Dutch law

The facts underlying the claim stretched over a period of ten years (2004-2014). Due to the inapplicability of the Rome II Regulation to events before 12 January 2009 (see Articles 31 and 32 and the CJEU decision in Homawoo), these were submitted to the Dutch Private International Law, more precisely to the Dutch Act on Conflict of Laws for Torts (Wet Conflictenrecht Onrechtmatige Daad – WCOD).

As Article 3(1) of WCOD refers to the place where the unlawful conduct occurred, the Rotterdam court ruled that Brazilian law applies to the entirety of the facts occurring before 12 January 2009.

Application of the Rome II Regulation

Events occurring on or after 12 January 2009 are subject to the Rome II Regulation. To determine the applicable law, the Dutch court looked to Article 4 of Rome II, the first paragraph of which refers to the country in which the damage occurs. Thus, the court was facing the well-known problem of locating purely economic loss.

Case law of the CJEU (Kolassa and Universal Music)

The court reviewed two decisions of the CJEU in Kolassa and Universal Music (leaving aside Löber). These cases concerned jurisdiction under the Brussels I bis Regulation but had to be consulted as well under the Rome II Regulation under the paradigm of parallel interpretation (see Recital 7 of Rome II).

In Kolassa, the CJEU had to determine the place where the damage occurs in case of investments made on the basis of a misleading prospectus. The CJEU had ruled that the damage occurred at the place of establishment of the bank managing the account from which the investor has payed the securities.

However, the Rotterdam court saw the importance of Kolassa as being severely limited by the decision in Universal Music. In the latter case, the court had held that the Kolossa decision was made in the specific context which gave rise to that judgment and that purely financial damage which occurs directly in the applicant’s bank account cannot, in itself, be qualified as a relevant connecting factor (CJEU, Universal Music, margin nos 37 and 38).

Market-Based Approach

The Rotterdam court in Petrobas instead preferred a completely different approach. In its view, the closest connection of the claim is with the place where the securities acquired by the investors are listed and traded offered. In the opinion of the court, it was there that the investors suffered property damage because their assets were directly affected by an unlawful act. The application of the law in force at this place would also serve the dual objectives of certainty and predictability because the law so identified would be foreseeable for both the issuer and the investors of the securities.

This “market-based theory” has been discussed for quite some time and enjoys strong support in the literature (see e.g. T Arons, (2008) Nederlands Internationaal Privaatrecht 481, 486; H Kronke, (2000) 286 Recueil des cours 245, 308-12; F Garcimartín Alférez, (2011) Law and Financial Markets Review 449, 453; Sarah Sánchez Fernández, El folleto en las ofertas públicas de venta de valores negociables (OPV) y responsabilidad civil: ley aplicable (La Ley, Madrid: 2015, p. 330–339)).

Evaluation

The market theory’s advantage is that it concentrates the applicable law in one country or – in case of dual listings – in a few jurisdictions. This is especially important in case of collective actions, which would be utterly unmanageable if each claim were governed by the law of the place of the investor’s bank account. While the market-based approach is clearly preferable from a policy perspective, it is less clear whether it can be justified under Art 4(1) Rome II, at least in its current interpretation by the CJEU.

First, it is doubtful whether the investors really suffer direct loss at the place where the securities are listed or traded. Investors usually do not purchase their securities directly on the exchange, but through intermediaries. It is also not sure that the sell them at the exchange after suffering loss – they can equally decide to keep them. The connection to the market where the securities are traded is therefore a more abstract one.

Second, it seems that the Rechtbank Rotterdam overly restricts the importance of the Kolassa decision. After all, this judgment arose from a case of wrong capital markets disclosure, which is  much more similar to the subject matter of Petrobas than the fact pattern in Universal Music, which concerned a failed calculation in a precontractual negotiation. Moreover, in both Kolassa and Petrobas, the investors had voluntarily paid the price of the securities, which afterwards declined in value, while in Universal Music the wrong information tainted the payment by the victim (on this point, see Johannes Ungerer, 24 (2017) Maastricht Journal of European and Comparative Law 448, 452).

In Kolassa, the CJEU decided implicitly against the market-based theory by ruling in favour of the localisation of the invidividual investor’s loss. The reasoning in Universal Music is not different on that point. The Rotterdam Rechtbank would therefore have done well to submit a question for a preliminary ruling, rather than simply trust its own opinion. Such a reference would have helped clarify the authorities of the CJEU in this currently uncertain area of law.

Applying Article 4(1) of Rome II has the further downside that the exception of Article 4(2) of Rome II must be respected, which results in the application of a different law to the claims of those parties that are domiciled in the same country as the defendant (in the case at hand: Brazilian investors). This illogical result could have been avoided by adopting the market theory under the escape clause (Article 4(3) of Rome II). Such an approach would however have its own problems because it could be seen as contradicting the need for a restrictive interpretation of the escape clause.

Conclusion

Overall, the market-based solution suggested by the Rechtbank Rotterdam could be a useful innovation for locating purely economic loss under Rome II. It would have been interesting to see how the CJEU will position itself in this respect. Unfortunately, the court has missed the opportunity to submit a reference for a preliminary ruling. Perhaps a recent submission by the Hoge Raad in the case VEB v BP concerning investor claims under Article 7(2) of Brussels I bis will bring some clarification for the Rome II Regulation as well.

The post below was written by Martina Mantovani, Research Fellow at the Max Planck Institute Luxembourg.


The Schrems II case, currently pending before the CJEU, has brought into the spotlight the possibilities offered by Article 26 of Directive 95/46/EC and by Article 46 of the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) for transferring personal data outside the EU by way of contractual mechanisms.

In this preliminary reference, the validity of the Commission’s Decision 2010/87/EC – setting forth a set of model “standard contractual clauses” for international data transfers – is questioned, inter alia, on the basis that such contractual clauses are binding solely as between the data importer and exporter and do not prevent national authorities of a third country from requiring, under local laws, the data importer to make available the transferred personal data to the security services.

While this question is only mildly related to traditional private international law core-issues – spurring reflection on the relations and interplay between the contractual set-up established between the parties and local (public) laws – this case may trigger a broader discussion on the role and function that this area of law and its language has in ensuring the proper functioning of the European regime for international data transfers.

To the present days, private international law seems to have contributed very little to this debate, despite the fact that these mechanisms are, in the vast majority of cases, international commercial contracts between private parties, ie the “natural habitat” of this area of law. As a result, many of the private international law issues arising in connection with the practical implementation of international data transfers presently remain uncharted territory.

An analysis of these contracts through the prism of private international law shall start from the assessment of their nature and function. Since these may be regarded as “something more” than sheer international commercial contracts, (1) being additionally a “governance tool” that the EU legislator deploys in the pursuit of its political objectives (2), these contracts acquire specific features which are of indubitable interest for private international law (3).

1. the contract as a “false friend”: the hybrid nature of the contractual mechanisms for international data transfers

The notion of contract is growingly regarded, by legal scholarship, as a “false friend”, capable of differing significantly in meaning depending on whether it is employed solely in its traditional capacity of source of freely agreed obligations between private parties (i), or whether it is additionally used as a mode of governance (ii).

(i) The contract as a source of freely agreed obligations between the parties

A source of freely agreed obligations. The contractual mechanisms currently listed by the GDPR for international data transfers are standard contractual clauses(SCCs), binding corporate rules(BCRs), certification mechanisms and codes of conduct. These tools all rely on a contractual commitment undertaken by a third state data importer, who is not directly bound by the GDPR by virtue of its article 3, to conform to a set of obligations relating to the processing of data.

Content-wise, the parties remain in principle free in drafting these contractual commitments, in the respect of the twofold requirement se out by article 46 GDPR. Firstly, they should provide “appropriate safeguards”, ie compensating for the absence of a general level of adequate protection in the third country of destination, by including the essential elements of protection which are missing in any given particular situation. In essence, the data importers and/or exporters agree to bear the joint and/or several responsibility of ensuring that the transfer and the further processing of the transferred data will continue to comply with essential mandatory requirements of EU law. Moreover, under article 46 GDPR, these contracts shall also confer enforceable data subject rights and effective legal remedies upon (European) data subjects. For these purposes, the data subject is usually made a third-party beneficiary, authorised to these contracts against the EU-based data exporter, the non-EU data importer or both depending on the case.

Between the parties (often private parties): The aforementioned obligations could be enshrined in a specific contractual commitment entered into between a non-European data importer and: a EU-established data exporter, in relation to a specific transaction or set of transactions (ie transfers of data) in the case of the SCCs; the other entities affiliated to the same group of undertakings, all agreeing to conform to the same privacy policy (BCRs) in relation to intra-group data transfers; a certification body (a national supervisory authority or a private body accredited pursuant to article 43 GDPR) in the case of certification mechanisms; or the promoter of a code of conduct.

It is worth reminding that the eventual “public nature” or the “exercise of public functions” by any of these parties (e.g. by the certification body or promoter) does not, as such, exclude a characterisation of these commitments as “civil and commercial” contracts for the purposes of European private international law, as the pending case Rina may further clarify.

However, another factor may impact on the characterisation of these contracts as “public” or “private” in nature, namely the fact that they can be used for extra-EU data transfers only once they get approved by a national supervisory authority, called to assess that the guarantees provided therein meet the standard of “appropriate safeguards”. As concerns SCCs, there are also three model sets, which have been pre-approved by the Commission itself and enshrined in EU Decisions binding in all Member States.

Nonetheless, while the need for approval by a public authority unquestionably is a distinctive feature of these contracts, it seems doubtful that this could, as such, alter “the private law nature” of the contractual engagements undertook as between the data importer and exporter.

(ii) The contract as a tool of governance

When used as a tool of governance, the contracts for international data transfers aim at achieving, in one go, a twofold political objective: giving continuity to the high level of protection granted under EU law to the fundamental right to data protection, while promoting the world-wide dissemination of the European standard of data protection.

The expression “contractualisation of society” designates an ongoing political phenomenon consisting in the extension of private law contractual techniques outside their traditional domain, in fields hitherto reserved for unilateral public policy instruments. The contract thus acts not only as a vector of obligations in the technical sense, but also as a mode of governance. Therefore, it loses some of its traditional characters while acquiring new features.

From the standpoint of legislators, “governing by contract” presents undeniable advantages: the contract appeals for its flexibility, and its use by the political power may reflect its desire to make people forget that “it imposes”, in order to gain the voluntary support and compliance of those it intends to govern. Such a governance technique may be particularly appealing to the European legislator, since voluntary compliance to European data protection law by economic operators who are not directly and immediately bound by it by virtue of article 3 GDPR is regarded as an important political objective.

In the attempt of “making Europe the (global) standard setter for modern data protection rules in the digital age”, the EU Commission has in fact frequently stressed not only the essential role played by business responsibility in ensuring the effective protection of the fundamental right to data protection, but also the (economic) benefits that compliance with EU law could bring to both European and non-European businesses. Notably, compliance with the EU data protection law was advertised as “a golden opportunity” and “competitive advantage” for businesses, insofar as these rules are “a trademark thatpeople recognise and trust worldwide”. As a consequence, literally “everyone” was invited to put these rules to life.

The Commission also stressed the important role that the voluntary adoption of EU data protection rules by business is having in favouring, at the global level, the upward convergence of legal orders, insofar as “a growing number of companies are addressing [data protection concerns] by extending of their own volition the rights created by the GDPR to their non-EU based customers.”

The contractual mechanisms for international data transfers set out by the GDPR are particularly suited to accommodate and promote this political ambition of the EU legislator. They condition the international transfer to the application, in the third country, of a contractually-created ersatz of EU law, thus favoring “its migration” and “silent absorption” in the legal order of third states.

2. Favouring the creation of global standards: the “migration of EU law” through the contractually-mediated application of its private law “ersatz”

All the contractual data transfer mechanisms provided for by the GDPR share an important common feature in that they determine the (mediated) application of EU law to the data processing activities carried out by a data importer in a third-state, who voluntary agrees to undertake (some of) the obligations which follows from the GDPR to gain access to European data.

(i) The extended application of EU law

The technical way in which this mediated application of EU law is realised varies depending on the specific tool considered.

As concerns the SCCs, the existing model sets approved by the Commission provide, in Set I,a general freedom to choose the substantive data protection rules to be applied by the importer in the third-state, subject however to the necessary respect of certain “mandatory data protection principles” which “should apply in any event” and “read and interpreted in the light of the provisions (principles and relevant exceptions) of Directive 95/46/EC” (Appendix 2). On the other hand, Set II, limits the importer’s choice to three alternatives, notably between the application of  (a) the lawsof the Member State in which the data exporter is established or (b) the relevant provisions of any adequacy decision adopted by the Commission limited to certain sectors of activity only, if the data importer is based in that adequate third country and is not directly covered by that sectorial Decision or (c) the data processing principles set forth in Annex A (which does not expressly require an interpretation in light of the 1995 Directive, but explicitly refers nonetheless to specific provisions of that instrument). Party autonomy seems conversely play no role in Set III, applicable to transfers to non-EU-established processors, insofar as the transfer of personal data to processors established outside the EU “should not prejudice the fact that the processing activities should be governed by the applicable data protection law” (Recital 18), defined as “the legislation protecting …[the] right to privacy with respect to the processing of personal data applicable to a data controller in the Member State in which the data exporter is established” (Article 3).

Moreover, both BCRs and certification mechanisms follow a similar pattern. As concerns the former, the guidelines issued by the Article 29 WP list a series of essential elements and principles, directly derived from specific provisions of the GDPR (§ 6.1.1), whereas, concerning the latter, a EU Commission Study recommends the inclusion, in the certification contract, of certain core principles of EU data protection law, derived from Arts. 5, 24, 25 and 28 of the GDPR.

(ii) The contract as a geographical space with inherently expanding boundaries.

The section above should demonstrate that the contractual mechanisms for international data transfers allow for the exportation not only of “European data”, but also of “European law” by means of contract.

In analysing the impact of place/location (lieu) and space (espace) on a contract, Hortense Fabre-Dubout put forth the idea that contractual relations could be represented, in themselves, as an espace, ie a surface delimited in space, a geographical spacecorresponding to the spatial scope of application of the obligations it creates. This “contractual territory” created by the meeting of the parties’ minds influences the behaviour of its inhabitants and impacts on the manner in which a fact occurred within it is legally assessed and dealt with by individuals and public authorities.

Against this backdrop, the contractual tools for international data transfers could successfully carve out, within the third state, different “spaces” where the behaviour of theirs inhabitants (notably of businesses) is indirectly influenced by the EU legislator, who requires the contractually-mediated application of at least some of the core principles of its data protection legislation.

From the standpoint of legislative technique, the contractual tools for international data transfers belong to the genus of territorial extension. In line with the conceptualization of this technique developed by Joanne Scott, the GDPR regime for international data transfers creates incentives, over and above “mere” access to European data, for compliance to be achieved at a higher level, ie for expanding the geographical boundaries of these “spaces” beyond the limits of the single transaction. So, for example, while SCCs operate on transaction-per-transaction level, BCRs cover, with a single contract, a bigger variety of data transfers within a bigger geographical area, ie the entire group of companies.

By scaling-up compliance at group-level, businesses are rewarded, inter alia,by regulatory simplification, with one single contract replacing the numerous contracts which would otherwise be required to cover intra-group transfers. The same reasoning applies to certification mechanisms, where firm-level compliance is rewarded with simplification (with all data flows directed toward this importer being presumedcompliant and therefore authorised, without the need of adducing additional contractual safeguards), as well as with the potential benefits that the “branding power” of certified respect of EU law may have on the EU market.

(iii) The migration of EU law

The creation of  “contractual regulatory spaces” within third countries, coupled by the incentives to expand their area of influence, may favour the “migration” of EU rules and principles towards third States.

This notion is used by Judith Resnik to underline that States cannot fully control the entry of foreign values and rules within their legal orders. Conversely, the “importation” of foreign rules and principles remains in principle a “highly democratic” process, depending on how, and through which actors, lessons from abroad will be brought home and how, and through which actors, a legislature will attempt to affect the law and practices of other nations.

By teetering on the thin line between top-down imposition of its data protection law and its voluntary adoption by profit-seeking economic actors, the contractual mechanisms for data transfers described above assist the European legislator in promoting the widespread dissemination of its standard of data protection. If no dispute arises in relation to the performance of these contracts in the third-country, the application of EU principles in the third state remains largely off the radar of its courts, which cannot consequently “block” its entry through overriding mandatory provisions or public policy exceptions.

Taking the idea of the law’s migration to the extreme, it may be argued that, in the long run, these processes of voluntary compliance with the European standard may favour its “domestication” or silent absorption in the foreign legal order, thus eventually triggering legislative change within the third state through a bottom-up approach.

However, as mentioned above, however, the Schrems IIcase might put an end or drastically limit the practical impact of this phenomenon. As recognised by Advocate General Øe in his Opinion, the potential reverberations of this case go well beyond the sole issues of the validity of the SCCs Decision of 2010. Rather, it calls into question the actual possibility of ensuring an adequate level of protection of such data “by means of exclusively contractual mechanisms”, given that BCRs, certification mechanisms and codes of conducts all rely on similar contractual set-ups.

3. The potential contribution of private international law scholarship to the debate on international data transfers based on contractual mechanisms

Supposing that the CJEU will rule in favour of the use of exclusively contractual mechanisms for international data transfers, further analysis by private international law theories could be necessary, insofar as it may shed some light on several controversial aspects of these contracts, relating, in essence, to the interaction of the data protection regime with the instruments adopted by the EU on the basis of article 81 TFEU. In this respect, private international law theory could, in particular, perform the following functions.

(i) PIL and the limitations to conflict-of-laws party autonomy

Two elements emerge from the analysis of the model SCCs adopted by the Commission. First, that this institution is not generally opposed to the idea of granting a certain freedom in the choice of the applicable data protection regime; and, secondly, that not all provisions of European data protection law shall be regarded as being “overriding and mandatory”.

Against this backdrop, private international law could lend its language and its theories on conflict-of-laws party autonomy with an aim to better identifying its extent and limits in relation to these contracts.

The fact that these express an overriding public interest, and are moreover used as mode of governance, might entail that the room for manoeuvre left to conflict-of-laws party autonomy may be narrower than it is in “ordinary” international commercial contracts.

In particular, the margin of freedom granted to the parties, as well as the identification of the provisions to be regarded as “overriding and mandatory” may vary depending on whether the parties’ choice concerns (a) law applicable to the “contractual clauses” as such, ie to (all or some of) the issues listed by article 12 of Regulation Rome I (cfr the provisions titled “Governing law” enshrined in the model SCCs); or (b) the law applicable to the international transfer of data, as a processing operation in itself, carried out by a data exporter directly bound by the GDPR and its national complementing laws; or (c) the law applicable to the processing of data by an importer in a third state. It seems conceivable, in principle, that the scope of the parties’ freedom might be wider in the latter case, given that it concerns the application of principles of EU law to processing operations which are not directly regulated by the GDPR itself. The interaction between the GDPR and the Rome I Regulation needs in any case to be clarified, especially in relation to the issues listed sub a) and c).

(ii) PIL and the effectivennes of choice-of-court agreements

The data subject’s right to enforce said contracts before a court of a Member State is an essential component of the provision of “enforceable rights” and “effective remedies” required under Article 46 of the GDPR. In this respect, the model SCCs adopted by the Commission enshrine choice of court agreements as between the data importer and exporter. These thereby agree that, in case of a dispute between the data subject and either party which is not amicably resolved, they accept the decision of the data subject, as a third party beneficiary, to refer the dispute to the courts in the Member State in which the data exporter is established. Depending on the set of clauses used by the parties, the data subject is required either to sue directly the third state data importer (Set II) or is given the choice between suing the data exporter, the data importer or both (Set I).

When data subjects sue the third-state data importer (alone or in conjunction with the exporter) before a Member State court on the basis of said jurisdictional agreement, the question is as to what basis, and according to what jurisdictional regime, the seised court shall assess its jurisdiction.

In this respect, private international law’s longstanding experience with national regimes on choice of court agreements may contribute in assessing whether, and to what extent, said jurisdictional agreements between the data exporter and importer could effectively fulfil the objectives set out by article 46 GDPR. Reference could be made, inter alia, to a preliminary studyconducted by The Hague Conference in 2002, evidencing “ a number of difficulties experienced in practice with regard to the enforcement of choice of court clauses in contracts, even within the business to business (B2B) context”. Leaving the regulation of such agreements to the non-unified private international law systems of the Member States could therefore run counter the objective of these clauses and of the GDPR, ie to confer enforceable rights and an effective remedy to data subjects.

The private international law systems of the Member States would nonetheless come into play solely where the Brussels IbisRegulation was deemed inapplicable, ratione materia, to these contracts. As well known, the regime of choice of court agreements established by this Regulation presents the advantage of being applicable irrespective of the parties’ domicile, ie. of being applicable also vis-à-vis a non-EU domiciled defendant. The relationship between the Brussels Ibis and the GDPR remains, however, largely unclear: both instruments establish – respectively in Article 67 and in Recital 147 – that the former does not “prejudice” the latter.

Further conceptualisation by private international lawyers on this point may therefore contribute to developing arguments in favour of the cumulative application of the GDPR and those provisions of the Brussels Ibis Regulation, – such as its Article 25 – which, far from causing a “prejudice”, factually enhance the effectiveness of the EU data protection regime and contribute to the achievement of its objectives.

As it is, protecting such choice of court agreements through the Brussels regime would not prejudice the weaker party, ie the data subject. On the one hand, these agreements do not prejudice (as per expression provision of those clauses) any other substantive and procedural right of the data subject to seek remedies according to with other provisions, such as, for example, to sue the EU-based processor or controller in accordance with article 79(2) GDPR.

On the other hand, they confer upon the protected party an additional possibility of suing a non-EU data processoror controllerbefore a court of a Member State. It is in fact doubtful that such a result could be achieved on the basis of article 79(2) (with the forum of the habitual residence being available only for “such proceedings”, clearly referring to the proceedings mentioned in the prior sentence of that provision, involving a EU-established processor or controller).

(iii) A PIL approach to the “conciliation of data protection laws”

In reading the existing approved sets of BCRs, it is rather common to find provisions, usually titled “conflicts with local laws”, establishing that in case ofconflicts between “applicable local laws” of a non-EU country and the BCRs, including as concerns further transfer of personal data, the relevant Responsible Executive shall consult with the Chief Privacy Officer “to determine how to comply with the BCRs and resolve the conflict to the extent reasonably practicable given the legal requirements applicable to the relevant Group Company”. Moreover, the Chief Privacy Officer may seek the advice of the Lead Data Protection Authority or another competent public authority (see, for example, Article 16 of JP Morgan BCRs).

Provisions of this kind mark a shift from the standing tradition of private international law to think in terms of “conflict” of laws, rather than in terms of their conciliation. Hence, contracts for international data transfers may be fertile ground to test the potential and limits of the method of the conciliation of law, sketched and developed by the excellent work of Hugh Patrick Glenn.

4. Concluding remarks

The purpose of this post was not to propose any definite solution to the existing private international law issues within the framework of international data transfers. Rather, it was meant to draw attention on an area of data protection law which seems weirdly under investigated by private international law analysis, despite offering much food for thought in connection with the new scenarios of digital economy and the quest for global regulatory standards.

On 12 December 2019, Judge Bruno Simma and the Drafting Team of The Hague Rules on Business and Human Rights officially launched The Hague Rules at the Peace Palace in the Hague.

Having been a member of the Sounding Board, I was indeed happy to see the Project achieved and the Rules out.

Of course, whether the Rules and the underlying idea of arbitration for human rights violations will be of any real use remains to be proven, but as time goes by and we face once and again the same scenarios of lack of remedy before the courts, proposals for alternatives cannot but be greeted.

In January 2019, a working paper of the MPI Institute Luxembourg, authored by Burkhard Hess and Martina Mantovani, titled Current developments in forum access: Comments on jurisdiction and forum non conveniens – European perspectives on human rights litigation, provided an overall description of the situation in Europe. American cases are also well known.

Recently, I have spotted another example in Asia, in the same lines. The last word has not yet been said, though: let’s keep fingers crossed, not only for the victims’ sake, but also because it would be encouraging to see the courts making good use of available procedural tools, such as forum necessitatis.

On 6 April 2016, toxic waste was discharged into the sea by Formosa Plastic Group (FPG) subsidiary Ha Tinh Steel Corporation – the largest foreign direct investment in Vietnam as well as the biggest integrated steel mill in Southeast Asia.

Subsequent pollution led to the death of massive amounts of fish and marine life affecting Hà Tĩnh, Quảng Bình, Quảng Trị and Thừa Thiên–Huế provinces in central Vietnam. FPG accepted responsibility for the disaster on 30 June 2016, and agreed to give 500 million USD in compensation to the Vietnamese government for disaster relief work.

Yet, the Vietnamese government mainly gave compensation to those living in Hà Tinh. Victims living in other provinces tried to bring the case to local courts in Vietnam. Their attempts were unsuccessful on the grounds that they had failed to prove their factual damages.

On 11 June 2019, almost three years after FPG acknowledgment of liability, a group composed of 7,875 victims of the marine disaster filed a lawsuit against FPG at the Taipei district court. They are supported by environmental and human rights organizations in Taiwan, Vietnam, US, France and Canada.

The legal representatives of the Vietnamese plaintiffs are asking for US$4 million dollars in compensation for the first group of 51 plaintiffs.

There are two reasons for the plaintiffs to file the lawsuit in Taiwan.

Firstly, the Vietnamese government has arrested several protesters after the marine disaster, and (allegedly) there is no court in Vietnam willing to accept the lawsuit under the pressure from the Vietnam government. The plaintiffs who attempted to seek remedies before the Vietnamese courts have been violently suppressed. Therefore, they can only find justice in other countries.

Secondly, the lawyers in Taiwan believe that they can prove that FPG in Taiwan bears the responsibility for the wrong doings and negligence of Ha Tinh Steel Corporation’s malpractice. Ha Tinh Steel Corporation in Vietnam was jointly invested by FPG, China Steel, and JFE Steel.  Moreover, FPG holds most of the shares: in other words, FPG plays an important role in the operation of Ha Tinh Steel Corporation, and makes profit from Ha Tinh Steel Corporation.

As Taiwan is a home-state to multinational corporations investing in industries that cause environmental harm in other third-party countries, the case, if successful, would have major implications for setting up a regulatory frame regarding environmental protections in global investments. It would also be the first transnational litigation case regarding environmental harm in Taiwan.

The Taipei District Court had accepted NT$1.2 million (US$39,234) court fees on 13 June 2019. However, four months later, it rejected the case arguing lack of jurisdiction.

The plaintiff’s lawyers filed an appeal on October 24. The lawsuit is now pending for a High Court ruling over the jurisdictional issue. I will try to keep track and post on the next developments.

 

Note: The Formosa Plastic Group and its international subsidiaries have already faced major fines and lawsuits in the United States, notably in Texas, Louisiana, and Mississippi after discharging poisonous chemicals into the land and underground water sources.

Background

On 11 April 2018, the Commission published a proposal for a new Directive on representative actions for the protection of the collective interests of consumers, and repealing Directive 2009/22/EC.

The proposal follows the REFIT Fitness Check of EU consumer and marketing law, published on 23 May 2017, which showed that due to globalisation, the rise of cross-border trading and e-commerce, the risk of infringements affecting large numbers of consumers is increasing.

The proposal aims to modernise and replace Directive 2009/22/EC (the Injunctions Directive). In order to do so, it intends to:
(a) expand the scope of the injunctions system in order to cover other horizontal and sector-specific EU instruments relevant for the protection of collective interests of consumers in different economic sectors (such as financial services, energy, telecommunications, health, environment);
(b) lay down procedures for compensatory redress (currently, Member States must have in place only procedures for obtaining an order to stop or prohibit an infringement);
(c) modify the rules on qualified entities;
(d) make the procedure more efficient – Member States will have to ensure ‘due expediency’ of procedures and to avoid procedural costs becoming a financial obstacle to bringing representative actions;
(e) promote collective out-of-court settlements.

Within the European Parliament, the proposal was referred to the Committee on Legal Affairs (JURI) with Geoffroy Didier as rapporteur. He submitted his draft report to the JURI Committee on 12 October 2018. The Committee adopted the report on 7 December. Parliament adopted its first-reading position on 25 March 2019.

The proposal was presented by the Commission to the Council on 22-24 April 2018. On 20 November 2019, the Permanent Representatives Committee (COREPER) decided to submit a compromise text proposed by the Finnish Presidency to the Competitiveness Council of 28 November 2019, with a view to reaching a general approach. The text as agreed is available here.

Main Features

In what follows I offer a summary of the main points of the proposal from a private international law perspective. Some, like the definition of a “cross-border action”, are a little bit puzzling, to say the least. I leave nevertheless open the assessment of the impact of the Directive on domestic law and the relationship with the current European private international law rules. Prof. Stefaan Voet (Leuven University) has kindly accepted to address these points in a future post.

1. The Directive should cover both domestic and cross-border infringements, in particular when consumers concerned affected by an infringement live in one or several Member States other than the Member State where the infringing trader is established (Recital 8 and Article 2(1)).

2. This Directive should not affect the application of nor establish rules on private international law regarding jurisdiction, the recognition and enforcement of judgments or applicable law. The existing Union law instruments apply to the representative actions set out by this Directive (Recital 9 and Article 2(3)).

3. A qualified entity should be able to bring a representative action in the Member State where it has been designated as well as in another Member State. Building on Directive 2009/22/EC, the new Directive should make a distinction between these two types of representative actions. When a qualified entity brings a representative action in another Member State than the one of its designation, that action should be considered a cross-border action. When a qualified entity brings a representative action in the Member State where it is designated, it should be considered a domestic representative action even if that action is brought against a trader domiciled in another Member State or even if consumers from several Member States are represented within that action. Decisive for determining the type of the representative action should be the Member State in which the action is brought. For this reason, a domestic representative action could not become a cross-border one during the course of proceedings, or vice versa (Recital 9a and Article 3(4b)).

4. The right of a qualified entity to bring a cross-border representative action should be limited to the area of activity of that entity (Recital 10c and Article 4a).

5. Qualified entities designated on an ad hoc basis should not be allowed to bring cross-border representative actions (Recital 11a).

6. It should be for the designating Member State to ensure that the qualified entity designated for the purpose of cross-border representative actions fulfills the required conditions, to assess whether it continues to comply with them and, if necessary, to revoke the designation of the qualified entity (Recital 11b and Article 4.a – whereby Member States may designate as well public bodies as qualified entities for the purpose of cross-border representative actions.)

7. Qualified entities from different Member States should be able to join forces within a single representative action in front of a single forum, subject to relevant rules on competent jurisdiction. This should be without prejudice to the right of the court or administrative authority seized to examine whether the action is suitable to be heard as a single representative action (Recital 11d and Article 4b).

8. The mutual recognition of the legal capacity of qualified entities designated for the purpose of cross-border representative actions should be ensured. The identity of these organisations and public bodies should be communicated to the Commission and the Commission should make that list publicly available. Inclusion on the list should serve as proof of the legal capacity of the organisation or public body bringing the action. This should be without prejudice to the right to examine whether the purpose of the qualified entity justifies the action in a specific case (Recital 11e and Article 4a).

9. In order to prevent conflicts of interest, Member States should be able to set out rules according to which their courts or administrative authorities could examine whether a qualified entity bringing a cross-border representative action for redress is funded by a third party having an economic interest in the outcome of a specific cross-border representative action and, if this is the case, reject the legal capacity of the qualified entity for the purpose of that action (Recital 11e a and Article 4b).

10. The courts or administrative authorities should be able to assess the admissibility of a specific cross-border representative action in accordance with national law. In accordance with the principle of non-discrimination, the admissibility requirements applied to specific cross-border representative actions should not differ from those applied to specific domestic representative actions (Recital 11h and Article 4.b).