KEYNOTE ADDRESS
AUSTRALIAN INSURANCE LAW ASSOCIATION
NATIONAL CONFERENCE
MELBOURNE, THURSDAY, 17 OCTOBER 2002
"THE INSURANCE CONTRACTS
ACT AND THE COURTS OR
LITIGATION IN THE AGE OF STATUTES"
It is now nearly 40 years since I started
my study of the law. Milestones of that kind provoke
reflection. Like most lawyers, the path I travelled
for many years seemed to lead to smaller and smaller
fields as the need to specialise became more pressing.
Sometimes I was taken into new and unfamiliar fields
where the fear that I did not know basic aspects of
the topography was very pressing. Even in familiar
fields, the longer I worked in them, the more I knew
that there were many areas of the field which I had
not explored sufficiently. No less importantly, I
came to understand that, for all its benefits, specialisation
carried with it the very significant risk that the
participants would see only the field in which they
worked without any sufficient understanding of its
place in the wider legal world and its dependence
on developments in that world.
I mention these matters today, not just
as a piece of self‑indulgent reminiscence, but
because they bear directly upon the questions that
are now presented daily to those who practise law,
whether as practitioner, academic or judge. When
I entered upon the study of the law in 1963, legislation
played a much smaller role in the daily practice of
the law than now is the case. Of all that has changed
over these last 40 years it is, I think, the rise
of statute as the source of the definition of rights
and liabilities which is most significant. Of course,
the common law continues to play its role. That must
be so for at least as long as the imperial march of
negligence continues. But increasingly it is to the
statute book which we must look if we are to find
the rights and interests which parties have in any
particular case.
Whether this trend is desirable or undesirable
is a question which will be for others to decide.
For those who practise the law, whether in the courts
or in other areas, what is important is to recognise
that this is what has happened and, so far as we can
see, will continue to happen.
There are several reasons for this development
that can be identified. First, there is a deal of
legislation which is enacted to give effect to particular
social policies. (I use the term "social policy"
in its widest sense.) Legislation like the Trade
Practices Act 1974 (Cth) can be understood as
giving effect to particular policy choices about how
the economy should be regulated and about how competition
in the economy should be conducted. Secondly, however,
other legislation is enacted to respond to particular
difficulties or problems that are identified in the
operation of the law in a particular area and has
reflected a wish to enact legislation in a form that
will cover circumstances that are identified with
very great particularity. Much income tax legislation
has been of this kind. No doubt reasons other than
these two can be identified and assigned to other
legislation.
Again, I emphasise that I make no judgment
about the validity of the reasons that can be identified
for the enactment of particular legislation or about
whether the resulting legislation is necessary or
unnecessary, desirable or undesirable. Those are,
as I say, decisions for others. There are, however,
some consequences which lawyers must recognise when
they come to deal with any particular problem which
legislation may affect.
As the volume of relevant legislation increases
it becomes very important to attempt to identify how
separate pieces of legislation intersect with each
other and how they intersect with the common law.
That may or may not be immediately apparent from the
terms of the legislation. Further, in a federal system
such as ours this process will often require consideration
of problems presented by the apparent intersection
of State and Commonwealth legislation and the apparent
intersection of the legislation of different States
or Territories. One need only refer to recent experience
with the National Corporations legislation to make
good the point which I have just made.
But in addition to issues of this last
kind, there may be some issue about the intersection
of different pieces of legislation enacted by the
one legislature. Do general pieces of legislation
like Trade Practices or Fair Trading legislation have
any work to do in a case in which there is an Act
which deals with a particular kind of commercial dealing
like insurance? Many, one would hope most, of the
problems of this last kind are readily answered, but
it is necessary to recognise the existence of the
problem before one can decide what the answer to it
is or assess how easy it was to reach that answer.
And what, if any, work is left for any
body of judge‑made law which preceded the enactment
of the legislation? Has the Act supplanted it all?
Is the Act to be read in the light of what went before
it?
Again, the answers to these questions are
in many, perhaps most, cases readily ascertainable.
But it is necessary first to recognise that there
is a question to be answered.
Insurance law has not been exempt from
these general trends. The federal Parliament has
power under s 51(xiv) to make laws with respect
to "insurance, other than State insurance; also
State insurance extending beyond the limits of the
State concerned". Very early in the life of
the Commonwealth, in 1905, the federal Parliament
passed its first Act in relation to insurance the
Life Assurance Companies Act 1905 (Cth) an
Act relating to assurance on the lives of children.
Subsequent federal Acts, the Insurance Act 1932
(Cth), the Life Insurance Act 1945 (Cth) and
the Insurance Act 1973 (Cth) were, for the
most part, Acts directed to regulating insurers rather
than insurance contracts. Some State statutes, for
example, Pt 3 of the Instruments Act 1958
(Vic) dealt with that latter subject. Marine insurance
was left to the operation of codifying imperial legislation:
the Marine Insurance Act 1906 (Imp).
These arrangements changed radically following
the work of the Australian Law Reform Commission in
its reports "Insurance Agents and Brokers"1,
and "Insurance Contracts"2. Out of these reports came the Insurance
(Agents and Brokers) Act 1984 (Cth) and the Insurance
Contracts Act 1984 (Cth).
The Insurance Contracts Act was
intended, as its long title said, "to reform
and modernise the law relating to certain contracts
of insurance". The long title went on to say
that it was to do that "so that a fair balance
is struck between the interests of insurers, insureds
and other members of the public". Whether the
Act has achieved that end is for others to decide.
For present purposes, the fundamental point to be
noticed is that the Insurance Contracts Act was
intended to regulate most, if not all, aspects of
insurance contracts. Looking at the list of titles
of the Act's Parts and Divisions reveals that to be
so. It deals with the duty of the utmost good faith3, insurable interests4, disclosures and misrepresentations5, the contract6,
claims7,
expiration, renewal and cancellation8, subrogation9 and information, notices and reasons10.
It is inevitable that there will be disputes
between insurers and those who are or believe themselves
to be insured. It is inevitable that some of those
disputes will lead to litigation. There are some
aspects of litigation to which I want to make some
reference.
No legal conference these days is complete
without reference to the issue of access to justice
and its correlative of the cost of litigation or without
reference to alternative methods of dispute resolution
either within or outside the court system. That is
because these are truly pressing issues. You will
forgive me, however, if I do not stay to examine those
subjects now. Rather, I want to offer two different,
but related reflections on litigation in the age of
statute.
It has been pointed out by others (most
recently by Gleeson CJ in his article "Individualised
Justice The Holy Grail"11)
that there has been a discernible trend away from
what are sometimes called black letter rules of law,
in favour of conferring open‑ended discretions
intended to permit the doing of justice in each particular
case.
Again, I leave to others the decision about
whether this is good or bad. Again, I want to do
no more than identify what seem to me to be some consequences
of this trend. The more open textured a rule, the
more important it is to articulate the factors which
are identified as relevant to a particular application
of the rule. That is important for the decision‑maker
because otherwise the assertion that a particular
result is "fair and reasonable" or "just
and equitable" is a statement of the outcome,
not the reasons for arriving at it. But if it is
important for the decision‑maker to articulate
the factors that have been taken into account and
to attribute particular weight to each, and it is,
it is equally important for those who advocate a particular
outcome to frame their argument by reference to the
same considerations.
This is no novel problem for the law or
for lawyers. Judges sentencing for crime have long
been confronted by this sort of task and judicial
remarks on sentencing take the form of recording the
matters that have been taken into account in exercising
the discretion which a sentencing judge has in fixing
the punishment that is to be ordered. And there is
a well‑developed body of law that identifies
what are the relevant considerations.
Likewise, it is now common place for lawyers
to consider the decision of an administrative decision‑maker
and seek to identify whether relevant considerations
have been taken into account and irrelevant considerations
have not. So the problem presented by legislation
providing an open textured rule is far from novel.
Yet there are times when it seems that insufficient
attention may be given by those who seek to engage
such a rule to the identification of the considerations
that are relevant to its exercise. All that is said
is "Well
it's a matter of discretion".
The second kind of reflection I would make
about litigation in the age of statutes concerns how
the problem is attacked.
In these days of the Internet, almost every
decision of a superior court can readily be found
recorded in some legal data base. Some, but by no
means all, of the decisions of the superior courts
will be reported. A body of reported and unreported
decisions about matters touching questions, for example,
of insurance and insurance contracts is therefore
readily accessible to all who wish to look. So much
is an inevitable and normal path for the development
and elucidation of the law in a common law system.
What is increasingly noticeable in many
areas of the law, is, however, a trend that is neither
necessary nor desirable. As the available body of
decided cases increases, there appears an increasing
tendency for practitioners to take those cases, or
commentaries on the cases, as the starting point for
any inquiry. To do so in any matter in which there
is applicable legislation is to invite serious error.
In those matters, and matters concerning insurance
or insurance contracts are of this kind, it is the
Act which represents the relevant starting point.
There is no doubt that, from that starting point,
the inquirer must go on to consider the decided cases
but, having done that, it is to the Act that the inquirer
must return. For not only is the statute the starting
point for the inquiry, it must be its end point.
If that path is not followed, there emerges a body
of folklore about the rights and duties of parties
that is rooted not in the Act but in someone's understanding
of what the courts have said in a particular context
about a particular problem that has been encountered
and resolved.
It would be wrong of me to attempt to amplify
what has been said in the High Court's decisions about
insurance law or about the Insurance Contracts
Act. The reasons given by the Court must stand
without any later attempt by me to elucidate them.
That, I hate to tell you, is entirely your task.
Mine, in a later case, is simply to let you know whether
I think that you are right. Nonetheless, you may
notice in cases concerning the Insurance Contracts
Act, like FAI Insurance Co Ltd v Australian
Hospital Care Pty Ltd12, that there is an emphasis in the judgments on the words of
the Act.
That is no narrow‑minded literalism.
It is recognition of two facts of cardinal importance.
First, the courts must give effect to valid legislation.
As covering cl 5 of the Constitution says, "This
Act, and all laws made by the Parliament of the Commonwealth
under the Constitution, shall be binding on the courts,
judges, and people of every State and of every part
of the Commonwealth
." Secondly, it is in
the words of the statute that the statute's operation
and effect are to be found. Of course, that must
be done with an understanding of the purpose which
it was intended that the legislation should achieve
or, if you like, the mischief to which it was directed.
And it is only in that artificial and objective sense
that it is useful, if at all, to speak of searching
for parliamentary intention. The law relating to
statutory interpretation, like so many other areas
of the law, continues to grow and develop. "Mischief"
and "parliamentary intention" are terms
which do not now find universal favour. I do not
wish to enter that field of debate. It is enough
to say that it is the text of the legislation which
will convey its meaning.
Permit me, however, to spend a few more
minutes saying something more about the several propositions
that I have just advanced. They are propositions
that apply in a very wide variety of cases but I will
relate them to insurance.
I have said that it is important to start
and finish any inquiry about the operation of a statute
like the Insurance Contracts Act with the statutory
text. That proposition should be elementary. Experience
teaches that it is not. Further, although it is very
important to consider any decisions that have been
given about particular provisions in the Act, it is
no less important to read those decisions with the
text of the Act beside you and to do so with the relevant
version of the Act at hand, not some later, irrelevant
version. Then, the task is to identify what light
the case sheds upon the problems under consideration.
What was the problem that confronted the court in
the case that you are reading? What is the principle
which you identify from the case? Is there a principle
established? Is the case any more than the application
of statutory words to a particular factual context?
Only by asking and answering these questions can you
see what light (if any) the case casts upon the particular
problem you face. Again, all this should go without
saying. Again, experience teaches that it is not.
In this area, as in many other areas of
the law, it is necessary to beware of starting any
analysis from premises that do not find reflection
in the relevant legislation. Two examples, drawn
from insurance law, may make the point. First, as
was pointed out in FAI Insurance Co Ltd v Australian
Hospital Care Pty Ltd13, difficulties may emerge from
the application of particular labels to various types
of insurance contract if, as a result, an attempt
is then made to force into the mould of the Act a
scheme of classification which is not found in it.
In that case reference was made to the classification
of policies as "claims made" or "claims
made and notified policies" as distinct from
"occurrence policies". None of these is
a term found in the Act. Their application may be
convenient but it would be wrong to take such categories
and argue from the name given to them to some conclusion
about their content.
Secondly, not only are there difficulties
of that kind, it must always be recalled that in some
respects the Insurance Contracts Act restricts
what otherwise might be the contractual freedom of
parties to a contract of insurance. No longer are
parties free to strike whatever bargain they choose.
That being so, pointing to the commercial advantage
that one party may gain from a particular construction
of the Act, and then labelling that as "commercially
sensible" may assume a degree of contractual
freedom which the Act expressly denies. Again, the
relevant question is, what does the Act say? Consideration
of commercial consequences for the parties may assist
in resolving some questions about the Act's meaning,
but it is the Act which is the start and the end of
the inquiry.
It is with these considerations in mind
that I referred to the need to avoid the development
of folklore. When specialists come together they
inevitably speak in shorthand. Each of them may know
precisely what the other is saying, but there is undoubtedly
a great risk that the jargon will take on a life of
its own and that the debate shifts from a debate about
the terms of the relevant Act to the meaning to be
assigned to certain pieces of jargon. There is a
real risk that in the process a body of folklore develops
which is not rooted in the Act.
Whether the courts have done well or badly
in performing their task in the field of insurance
law is for others to judge. The number of journal
articles published in the field suggests that to many
the point is at least contestable. But again, may
I make some obvious points that bear upon this aspect
of the matter. First, if the point has given rise
to litigation which has gone to judgment, it should
suggest that the point is arguable that reasonable
minds might differ about its resolution. If the case
has gone to the High Court of Australia then, unless
the system has failed somewhere along the line, the
point at issue is certainly open to doubt. It should
not, in those circumstances, be a matter for comment
or criticism if the Court divides in its opinion.
The premise is that the point is disputable.
Whether or not that is so, the lawyer who
would wish to consider the decision has no choice
except to read it and think about what is said in
the reasons. It is not enough to depend upon someone
else's summary of what they think the case stands
for or someone else's summary of the reasons that
lead to that conclusion. What you do not know is
what assumptions the author of the summary makes.
And very often in disputable questions of law, isolating
the unexpressed premise of the argument is fundamental
to testing its validity.
How then can this be done? Where is the
practitioner to find time to devote to this task?
Does not the practitioner inevitably come to narrow
the focus to a smaller and smaller field of law?
While I fear that an affirmative answer to this last
question is well‑nigh inevitable, I regret that
it should be so. The truly skilled practitioner has
a wide and a deep knowledge of many areas of the law.
And if the practitioners and the judges do not seek
to place each particular problem in a broader context
of the law as a whole, there is a great risk that
the field of study will yield a mutant crop of principles
which, ultimately, will wither and die. No area of
the law, however specialised, can grow and thrive
unless it takes its proper place in the whole legal
system.
All that I have said will be understood
as reflecting the preoccupations of one who, for the
last 10 years, has served as a judge and for the preceding
20 years was a barrister. All of it, therefore, reflects
a preoccupation with litigation. Those of us who
are concerned with litigation see matters where one
or other side says that something has gone wrong.
We see the operating theatre, if not the pathology
laboratory, rather than the maternity ward of the
law.
The tasks which we undertake both reflect
and find support in certain fundamental constitutional
foundations. For a federal judge the foundation is
Ch III of the Constitution concerning the judicial
power of the Commonwealth. At several points in this
address I have gone to some lengths to emphasise that
I am expressing no view about policy or similar issues.
I have confined myself to identifying what seem to
me to be some consequences of some recent developments
in the law. In recent years the Court has had to
examine a number of issues about the exercise of the
judicial power of the Commonwealth. The cases concerning
the cross‑vesting legislation (Re Wakim;
Ex parte McNally14)
are but one example of these cases.
The separation of powers which follows
from the text and structure of our Constitution has
been held to require the separation of the federal
judicial power from the legislative and executive
functions. Just as the judicial power of the Commonwealth
cannot be conferred otherwise than in accordance with
Ch III, non‑judicial power cannot be conferred
on a Ch III court.
Questions of legislative policy are for
the legislature to decide. The task of the courts
is, as the judicial oath puts it, to do justice according
to law without fear or favour, affection or ill‑will.
The addition of the words "according to law"
in the phrase "do justice according to law"
is not done to provide plumpness to an expression
thought otherwise too thin in its expression. It
is an addition of substance. The obligation of the
judges is to do justice according to law.
From time to time judges, particularly
in a final court of appeal like the High Court of
Australia, must make a choice about how the law is
to develop. Commonly, the debate about that choice
will refer to what will be termed "policy"
considerations. "Policy" in that context
is used in a different, and more confined sense than
it is used when legislators debate what statutes should
be enacted. The sweep of policy which legislators
can and should consider is very much wider than the
matters to which the courts can give effect.
There has been much debate in recent months
about insurance and the law of negligence. I will
not enter upon that debate. Nor will I venture a
view about whether the common law did or did not take
some wrong turning in its development of principles
in the area. The debate that is now occurring is
a debate about legislative and social policy and that
is not an area into which I will go. If, in the course
of that debate, it is thought necessary to consider
how the courts have done their job whether in relation
to the law of negligence or otherwise, it must be
recalled that scrutiny of that kind is a normal and
very important process fundamental to any democratic
society. It is as well to remind you, however, that
there are recognised and accepted limitations on the
role of the courts in developing the common law.
As Gaudron and McHugh JJ said in Breen v Williams15:
"Advances in the common law must begin
from a baseline of accepted principle and proceed
by conventional methods of legal reasoning. Judges
have no authority to invent legal doctrine that distorts
or does not extend or modify accepted legal rules
and principles. Any changes in legal doctrine, brought
about by judicial creativity, must 'fit' within the
body of accepted rules and principles. The judges
of Australia cannot, so to speak, 'make it up' as
they go along. It is a serious constitutional mistake
to think that the common law courts have authority
to 'provide a solvent'16 for every social, political
or economic problem. The role of the common law courts
is a far more modest one.
In a democratic society, changes in the
law that cannot logically or analogically be related
to existing common law rules and principles are the
province of the legislature. From time to time it
is necessary for the common law courts to re‑formulate
existing legal rules and principles to take account
of changing social conditions. Less frequently, the
courts may even reject the continuing operation of
an established rule or principle. But such steps
can be taken only when it can be seen that the 'new'
rule or principle that has been created has been derived
logically or analogically from other legal principles,
rules and institutions."
This Conference offers a great opportunity
for those who participate in this important and specialised
aspect of law to place their pursuit in the broader
context. I hope that you will enjoy it and benefit
from it.
13 (2001) 204 CLR 641 at 652 [23].
15 (1996) 186 CLR 71 at 115.
16 Tucker v US Department of Commerce (1992)
958 F 2d 1411 at 1413.