THE FUTURE
OF COURTS - DO THEY HAVE ONE?
The
Hon Justice Michael Kirby AC CMG
The theme of this paper is "The
Courts and the Future".
It is a subject that requires optimism and rashness,
given the perils of futurology and the
breathtaking speed with which changes are likely to happen.
Not long after the present author was
appointed and moved to the Australian Law Reform Commission,
a young advocate, spending a few years in the Scottish Law
Commission, came to visit him in the Commission in Sydney.
It must have been 1975 or 1976.
Embarrassingly, he has recently recorded the encounter. He says
that he asked about the future of the courts. He asserts that the response posed a question: "What makes you think they have one?"
This is the kind of exchange you might expect between
brash and naive law reformers. Looking back over a quarter of a century since
that question asked of the future Lord Mackay of Clashfern,
Lord Chancellor of Great Britain, it can certainly be said
that the 1975 rumours of the impending early demise of the
courts were greatly exaggerated.
The Australian Constitution, in its
establishment of the federal Judicature, stands remarkably
unchanged in the interval.
All that has been altered in the text of Chapter
III is the insertion in 1977 of provision for the retirement
of federal judges. There are still a few "lifers"
on the Family Court of Australia. None remain on the High Court. But the most important developments, affecting
the constitutional position of the courts in recent times
have been in the decisions emphasising the essential independence
of State courts as proper receptacles for federal jurisdiction and about the lingering controversy
as to whether, with the consent of the Federal Parliament,
State Parliaments can confer State jurisdiction on federal
courts as in the cross-vesting legislation. The heightened vigilance of the High Court
of Australia to the requirements imposed on federal judges
by Chapter III has been another theme.
The really serious challenges to judicial
independence in Australia in the past quarter century, have
arisen from outside the constitutional and statutory texts. They have arisen from (1) the abolition of courts and tribunals
and the non-reappointment to the new body of all members
of the former body; (2) the growing practice of some States of
appointing ‘acting’ and ‘part-time’ judges instead of supplementing
the permanent tenured judiciary; and (3) the unprecedented,
public and personal attacks on the courts and on individual
judges, emanating from the Executive Government, the media
and others who should know better.
Yet if you looked at the constitutional
text and the day to day operation of the courts, you could
be forgiven for saying that not a lot has changed in a quarter
century, indeed much longer.
Come ten o'clock, judges around Australia -
as in India and other countries of the Commonwealth -
the nation enter their courtrooms; everyone stands; and
in a few minutes business goes on much as it did when the
impertinent question was asked of James Mackay.
Perhaps because of the increasing public, judicial
and professional outcry, the abolition of courts and tribunals
has abated somewhat. Attorneys-General
have promised that acting and part-time judges are strictly
a temporary expedient.
Political calumny of individual judges seems to have
receded lately. So
would it be safe, looking into the future, to suggest that
in the next quarter century everything will be much the
same? Business as
usual?
A lawyer from Dickens' time, walking
out of Bleak House
into a modern Australian court on an ordinary day, would
see relatively few changes. Same wigs and robes. Same elevated Bench and sitting times. Very similar basic procedures of calling evidence
and presenting argument.
Longer opinions: but still the same structure of
facts, law and conclusion.
Contrast, if you will, the astonishment of a physician
from Guy's Hospital in London, from the middle of the last
century, wandering into the electronic world of bleepers
and monitors, of CAT scans, gnomic
tests and automated diagnosis of a modern Australian hospital. We have made progress in the law and in the
courts, including the past twenty-five years.
But not as much as other professions.
Will it stay this way?
RESISTANCE
AND PROBLEMS
The picture that has been painted is
a little exaggerated. Electronic
technology has arrived in Australian courts.
It has brought in its train a number of changes. An engaging recent photograph in the West Australian showed
the Full Court, with Chief Justice Malcolm and Justices
Owen and Steytler presiding, in an appeal concerning a negligence
claim against a major accounting firm.
All the judges and barristers are pictured: robed
and wigged in the traditional way. But all are engrossed in video-screens controlled
by keyboards and laptops that would have astonished Dickens,
the articled clerk of earlier times.
Of all the Australian courts, the High
Court of Australia has been foremost in its embrace of the
new information technology.
Witness the success of the video links for special
leave and other hearings; the instant availability
of decisions on the Internet once delivered; the provision
of copious electronic data about the court and its cases
through the Home Page on the World Wide Web of the Internet.
Yet every writer in this field remarks
upon the notorious inclination of lawyers to adhere to their
old ways; the cultural
resistance of the legal profession to changes of things
considered fundamental; the psychological
barrier which must be breached to raise the awareness of
judges and lawyers of the technological engines of change and the
imperative necessity to begin the process in law schools
where new generations must learn the discipline of law with
their hands on keyboards and their minds engaged with concepts
of law and justice and not just a mass of data.
Even those who recognise the tremendous
changes which information technology, in particular, will
bring to the law and the courts voice concerns that the
onrush to accept new technology should occur in a way harmonious
with the basic mission of the law and the courts.
This is the achievement, so far as possible, of just
outcomes according to law by procedures, which are manifestly
fair. Whilst automated information systems, in the
next quarter century, will doubtless improve vastly the
access of lawyer and layman alike to basic legal information, legal training will be essential
to finding the needles of relevancy in the haystack of the
Internet. For the
foreseeable future, judges and lawyers will remain the trained
needle detectors.
Whilst welcoming the increasing use
of evidence in electronic form, particularly in civil trials,
more cautious observers insist upon the continuing role
of the courts as a venue for the public resolution of serious conflicts -
serious enough to have escaped diversion to the many systems
of alternative and additional dispute resolution now availed
of. The right to see in public a judicial decision-maker
struggling conscientiously with the detail of a case is
a feature of the court system which cannot be discarded,
at least without risk to the acceptance by the people of
courts as part of their form of governance.
It is one of the fundamental human
rights mentioned in the International
Covenant on Civil and Political Rights that all persons, in the
determination of any criminal charge against them or of
their rights and obligations at a suit at law, "shall
be entitled to a fair and public hearing by a competent,
independent and impartial tribunal established by law".
Publicity is an inherent and essential feature of
a court system conforming to such fundamental rights and
freedoms. This principle
has obvious implications for the right to confront not only
the judicial decision-maker but also witnesses and opponents.
In the High Court of Australia, we
have noticed that advocacy in special leave hearings, conducted
by video link, is generally briefer than that conducted
in the physical presence of the Court.
Statistical analysis denies that there is any advantage
in the physical over electronic presence of the advocate.
Yet technology will not, in the foreseeable future,
replace advocacy. Some
hope that it will never do so.
The growing tide of electronic data
has had a significant effect in Australian courts. Recent studies suggest that some court users already regard courts
as hostile, unfriendly, unintelligible and inaudible places,
unpleasant to the lay consumer and to the public alike. Such studies warn us of the need for care in
the introduction of new technology, which may sometimes
enhance the sense of remoteness of the court and the impersonal,
disembodied and non-human features of a trial.
Much of the pressure for the introduction
of electronic media in the courts comes from the necessity
to solve the concurrent increase in the volume of litigation
occurring at the same time as there has been a real decrease
in the funds expended on the courts and the business before
them. Not only should judges be alert to the potential
of technology to enhance throughput, monitor log jams and
reduce inefficiencies.
They also need to be aware that, unlike hospitals,
courts are not dealing mainly with objective empirical phenomena.
They are commonly dealing with issues of fairness,
justice and ethics. They are judged not only by what they do but how they do it.
PREDICTIONS: THE ONGOING ELECTRONIC REVOLUTION
These cautionary words said, it seems
safe to predict that many of the ways by which courts perform
their functions in Australia will be changed quite radically
in the next 25 years. Predictions
of the paperless legal office have been made for so long,
with no immediate success that suggestions that courts of
the future will be wholly paperless tend to be shrugged
off. Yet informed observers watching the ever increasing
rise of electronic filings in courts all over the world and the
growing use of wired courtrooms as the norm, not the exception, now suggest
that in0 twenty-five years, "paper, like parchment
today, will only be used for documents of special significance
- and by hobbyists". The paperless world will, unlike Godot, finally
arrive. The High
Court of Australia is already engaged on a project which,
when security issues have been resolved, will permit lawyers
(and indeed members of the public) to access online the
public records about cases that are, or were, before the
Court. As the shift to electronic filing in, and communications
with, the courts increases, it seems inevitable that access
of this kind will also increase.
The submissions made in cases have
changed during my judicial lifetime.
Non-oral submissions have evolved from virtually
nothing to bare skeletal outlines and now to substantial
text. This tends
to shift the time of trials, and appeals, from open court
hearings to the judges' private rooms where they can read
five times more quickly written text that would otherwise
take hours for oral presentation. But it is interesting to consider the future
ways in which parties' submissions are likely themselves
to adapt to the new media.
Instead of plain text, it is probable that argument
will increasingly use accessible side references to the
evidence. The judge,
reading argument, will not only have citation of a page
of transcript as at present but, at his or her command,
immediate access to the video record of the relevant witness
giving the relevant testimony. Similarly, submissions to legal principle will
provide optional access varying from references to constitutional
or statutory provisions or fundamental rules through to
more remote analogies and academic writing.
Already in the United States the use of computer
graphics at trials, to aid argument before juries, is commonly
permitted. The use
of computer aided simulation in support of the arguments
of advocates is likewise common.
It will become more so.
These are illustrations of the way
in which, in the High Court of Australia, video technology
is used for special leave and interlocutory hearings.
The big question in the coming quarter century is
where the line will be drawn for such use.
It is not at all uncommon nowadays for video recorded
evidence to be admitted and used in Australian courts. Such testimony is by no means confined to the
likes of President Clinton or Bill Gates.
After much initial resistance, police now increasingly
use video-recorded interviews of suspects and complainants. Justice Estey of the Supreme Court of Canada
has declared that the courtrooms of tomorrow will increasingly
harness audio and video recordings in the efficient discharge
of their functions. But will this procedure, of recorded video
film and live video links, stop at case management hearings? At bail hearings, transmitted directly from
the prison in which the applicant is held? In interlocutory conferences and tribunal hearings? In civil but not criminal cases? Or, perhaps, in criminal cases carrying non-custodial
or short custodial sentences? The great utility of such video-hearings cannot
be doubted. It was
demonstrated to me last week.
Its demonstration is repeated every day in courtrooms
in this continental nation. But where is the line ultimately to be drawn
between the necessities of a trial which is truly public
and one which is fragmented, disjointed, taken in bits and
pieces by electronic recordings and then mulled over in
private by the judge who may never have seen, or be seen
by, the parties and may never have seen, or been seen by,
the witnesses?
In these developments, we are witnessing,
once again, the triumph of the notions of equity over the
notions of the common law. Whereas the common law insisted on the continuous
oral trial held before a jury in public with no appeal,
equity permitted fragmented hearings and ultimately was
the first to embrace appeals.
With the growing abolition of juries in Australia,
the judge of the common law, with his limited function to
instruct the jury on legal matters, has given way to the
judge of the Chancery type: sitting alone without a jury,
dealing with affidavits now to be in electronic form; and
adopting a much more proactive role both with witnesses
and lawyers. Equity's
procedural triumph continues to gather pace throughout the
Commonwealth of Nations. It continues to take the procedures of common
law countries into a mode more similar to that of the countries
of the civil law (for equity was always closer to that tradition). Yet there was a certain genius in the common
law's insistence on the continuous public trial. It had a social and political utility. As we pursue the abandonment of that tradition, we must at least
be aware of what we are doing.
MACHINES AS
JUDGES
There is no chance that in a quarter
century's time, judges either of trial or of appeal, will
have been replaced by thinking machines: artificial legal
intelligence. Yet it seems unlikely that the courts will
be left completely unaffected by this development which
has been called "perhaps the most intellectually stimulating
issue to have arisen from the advent of computer technology". Certainly, intelligent systems have been developed
which are in common use in other professions. For example, it is quite common for medical
practitioners to feed into computer data of various kinds
and then to procure detailed advice on diagnosis and therapy. Highly developed programmes exist for the diagnosis
of glaucoma and other tricky conditions. When made available to a general practitioner, these systems enhance
his or her skill to that of an expert in the field. Similarly, intelligent systems have been devised
to offer advice on the location of ore deposits based on
geological data fed to a computer. This system is now in common use throughout
the world. It has
discovered fields worth hundreds of millions of dollars.
Is it impossible to think that courts, and lawyers
more generally, could enhance the accuracy and precision
of their decision-making by intelligent systems fed by appropriate
experts with the relevant data? Rudimentary forms of legal reasoning in corporate
tax law were developed as long ago as 1972. Systems have also been developed which operate
on the German Civil Code, the British Nationality Act, welfare law and so on. Richard Susskind, of Balliol College Oxford
observes:
"Of
fundamental importance for workers in this field (despite
out present optimism) is the fact that, for almost fifteen
years now, enquiries into the possibility of knowledge-based
computer assisted legal reasoning have been undertaken and
yet have yielded far fewer positive results than comparable
efforts in other disciplines.
It might seem intuitively obvious that this lack
of success stems from the differences between the nature
of legal reasoning and the nature of other enterprises such
as diagnostic illnesses, mineral prospecting and inferring
chemical structures".
Yet
Susskind remains optimistic:
"There
can be little doubt ... that the successful construction
of expert systems in law will be of profound theoretical
and practical importance to all of those whose concern is
the law".
Pending the adaptation of legal and
judicial decision-making to intelligent systems, there are
steps on the way that are obvious and just around the corner.
The advance of voice recognition continues apace. Within a decade, it seems safe to predict judges
and lawyers will have sophisticated information systems,
which respond to their voice commands.
"Tell me the latest Australian decisions on
causation in the law of negligence. Follow this up with recent English and Indian
decisions?" The
computer voice will respond at once with the then equivalent
to Chappel v Hart. Other case law will roll out whilst the judge
or lawyer takes notes or does other things. This is not
futurology. It is almost with us. Shops in the United States sell rudimentary
voice command toys. Those children, when they become lawyers,
will expect nothing less.
Against the backdrop of the breathtaking
developments of technology, which we have seen, advancing
at a galloping pace in the last twenty-five years, it would
be a bold observer who would deny the possibility of artificial
intelligence enhanced lawyering and judicial decision-making
in the new millennium. The dematerialisation, omnipresence and malleability of data in
electronic form - including legal data - make it virtually certain,
as it seems to me, that courts of the future will embrace,
and themselves in turn be affected by, artificial intelligence. How, when and where this will happen is, as
yet, unrevealed. There is no computer (and none is on the
drawing boards) which can be programmed with the will
to do justice and the capacity to respond to the infinite
variety of differential facts which make the mechanical
application of legal rules to human situations ordinarily
objectionable. A lawyer's role is not simply that of delivering
an outcome. It includes
the old-fashioned function of helping another human being,
including in situations of great anxiety, distress and inconvenience. Courts also partake of that role. Their functions are not limited solely to efficient
throughput or diversion of ever increasing caseloads. Their tasks extend to the public display of
the ultimate commitment of an essential institution of government
in our form of society to the dual objectives of ordered
lawfulness tempered by human notions of justice and fairness.
One of the most important books which
gives those who operate in the courts today a glimpse of
the future is written by Richard Susskind.
It is titled The
Future of Law. He begins the book with a metaphor, which has
lessons for judges and their courts.
At a colloquium of the worlds leading
manufacturers of electronic power tools, an image of the
latest version of a gleaming electric drill is thrown on
the screen. The executives are asked whether this is what their companies sell.
They nod wisely. But then they are shown a photograph of a hole,
neatly drilled in the wall.
The colloquium leader corrects the audience.
"That is what we sell".
Few indeed are the hardware customers who are passionate
about a drill. They
are concerned with what drills can do.
We in the courts must also learn this
lesson. Cocooned
in the robes and books and traditions of centuries, it is
easy for us to become infatuated with our equivalent of
the gleaming drill. It
is natural for this to happen at a time when we are experimenting
with shining new addictions: case management, ADR, video
conferencing and electronic data.
But in the end, we must keep our eyes fixed on our
equivalent of the hole in the wall. Some at least of the countries which are foremost
in the embrace of electronic courtrooms, have left themselves
open to criticism of subservience to governments which pay
huge judicial salaries and decorate the courtrooms with
multimedia electronics. In the end, the abiding judicial dedication to the fundamental rationale
of courts in a civilised society must be our guide. To be competent, independent and impartial.
And to be performing functions in manifestly fair
and public hearings.
Lawyering will change in India as in
Australia. Technology
will advance. Our
successors will know the future, which we can but see as
through a glass darkly. They will see it face to face. But the abiding principles will continue to
govern our courts. It
is to be hoped the judges and lawyers of India and Australia
will never lose sight of the hole in the wall.