How a Law Should Be Written
Most philosophy of law asks what the laws should say; this one asks how they should be written, and treats bad drafting as a diagnosable disease with named faults and named cures.
Nomography, Bentham's own coinage for the art of drafting laws, takes legal writing as a craft with its own pathology. He catalogues the ways a statute goes wrong as a piece of composition: ambiguity, obscurity, overbulk, entanglement, redundancy, all the failures of expression that leave a law meaning less, more, or other than intended. Against each fault he sets a remedy. The conviction driving it is that the form of a statute is a moral matter and not a technicality, since a badly written law hands the deciding over to lawyers and judges. An appendix sets out the logical instruments he used across all his own work.
- legal theory
- legal reform
- jurisprudence
- logic
- transparency
Enter a dialogue
- Lawyers call legal fictions, pretended facts that courts accept, a pillar of English law. Why is that like praising a rotten egg buried beneath a bridge?
- A statute says its earlier rules apply to a new case, and the reader must search fifty printed pages for them. What plain device would save that search?
- How can a tangled statute blind the very lawmaker who wrote it, and not only the citizens it binds?
- A pleasing style counts for almost nothing in a law beside avoiding faults, in your view. Why should a statute never be judged as eloquence?
- Lawyers defend endless repeated phrases in statutes as the price of certainty. Why did you call that defence a sham?