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University of Queensland Law Research Series |
Last Updated: 7 May 2009
THE UNIVERSITY OF QUEENSLAND
LEGAL RESEARCH SERIES
ENVIRONMENTALISM VERSUS CONSTITUTIONALISM:
A
CONTEST WITHOUT WINNERS
Suri Ratnapala[*]
Ratnapala, S ‘Environmentalism versus Constitutionalism: A Contest without Winners’, [2007] Resource Management Theory and Practice, 110 - 164
ABSTRACT
The New Zealand Resource Management Act imposes a system for micro-managing the environment. The Act is typical of current state approaches to environmental protection that places heavy reliance on command and control systems in preference to market based systems. Such laws impact heavily on property rights and due process and generally undermine the rule of law by creating centres of arbitrary authority. They also prevent the harnessing of widely dispersed knowledge that is vital to the determination of the costs and benefits of conservation and the development of realistic policy. These measures have been justified on the basis of the ‘precautionary principle’ and the concept of sustainable development and they are supported by claims of scientific consensus about major environmental issues such as climate change. The essay questions this consensus and argues that the precautionary principle and sustainable development are vacuous but dangerous doctrines. The apocalyptic and utopian visions of conservation are challenged and an evolutionary conceptualisation of the environment is proposed. The essay discusses the importance of property rights and compensation for takings as means of advancing legitimate environmental goals and argues that the New Zealand Resource Management Act is a deeply flawed model that imposes serious economic and constitutional costs that ultimately will weaken society’s capacity to achieve those goals.
INTRODUCTION
This essay is about two threats to society. One is the threat to the
environment which, if unattended, will endanger our way of life.
The other is
the threat to constitutional government and to the economy that arises from
ill-advised responses to the challenges
of environmental protection. The latter
threat if unaddressed will not only endanger our way of life by diminishing
freedom and prosperity
but in the end will also defeat our good intentions about
the environment.
The prosperity that New Zealanders enjoy is not simply the
result of the country’s resources and good fortune. There are countries
that are more richly endowed that languish in poverty. The difference between
those countries and the countries that have prospered
can be explained best by
noticing the difference between their respective institutions. The prosperous
countries tend to display
a high degree of personal safety, property rights and
contractual certainty under the rule of law. The stagnant economies are
generally
found where these things are not secure and the rule of law is feeble.
There is no other way to account for the economic disparities
between North
Korea and South Korea, Hong Kong and pre-reform China, Mexico and Southern
California, Communist Europe and Western
Europe. There is also no other way to
explain the rapid economic growth of India and China that followed their
transition to market
economies based on greater economic freedom and property
rights. Compelling evidence of the causality between freedom under the rule
of
law and economic well-being of nations is provided by the annually compiled
Economic Freedom Index and the Heritage Foundation-Wall
Street Journal Index of
Economic Freedom. (Berggren, 2003) I am not talking here about democracy but
the rule of law, property and
contract. Democracy is a means of safeguarding
these things in the longer term but democracy can also harm them if people are
not
informed and vigilant and demagogues and zealots and rent seekers dominate
the decision making process.
The advantages of a strong market economy are
evident. It creates wealth and moves people from poverty to prosperity. But one
advantage
often overlooked by critics concerns the role of markets in helping
societies to overcome problems that nature and human activity
create, whether
they are famine, pestilence, war, terrorism or environmental harm. Markets help
in at least three ways. First, as
a general rule, the freedom that underlies
markets creates open societies where information is freely exchanged and
theories are
vigorously debated. It is worth remembering that there was no
Greenpeace or WWF in the Soviet Union or in Eastern Europe during communist
rule. Second, the wealth that is created by markets makes possible innovation
and new technology which deliver solutions. Third,
as many have argued,
markets-based instruments (MBI) provide mechanisms that are superior to command
and control (CAC) systems in
addressing problems like environmental degradation.
(Rhinehart and Pompe, 2005; Bratland, 2005; Sharp 2002, d’Auria, 1999;
Markandya, 1998)
It is therefore ironic that many governments in
industrialised democracies have chosen the path of command and control to
address
environmental issues in ways that threaten the institutional foundations
of the market economies. It would be tragic if, as the sceptics
in the
environmental debate fear, the apocalyptic message of extreme environmentalism
ends up harming the environment by reducing
our capacities to deal with real
threats.
There are some environmentalists (hopefully not many) who believe
that a pristine environment is a goal to be achieved regardless
of the cost to
human communities. As a proposition of faith, it cannot be proved or disproved.
But we are entitled to ask what these
believers mean by a pristine or ideal
environment, this Garden of Eden. In Australia, the ideal is supposed to be the
condition of
the continent before European settlement. The trouble is we do not
know what it was like and more importantly whether it was very
nice by whatever
standard that we use. There are other environmentalists who associate
environmental protection with human well being.
This is a utilitarian approach
that seeks to address problems at the local, national and global levels. The
proposition that a healthy
environment is essential for human well being is not
in issue. The debate is about what the threats are, the sources and degrees
of
the threats and what measures if any can and should be taken to address them.
The environmental movement’s aims and projects
stretch across a wide range
of concerns including climate change, biodiversity conservation, pollution,
waste disposal, resource
depletion, land degradation, nuclear energy use and
genetically modified food. My aim in this paper is not to contest the positions
of the environmentalists in these areas of concern. I leave those debates to the
scientists. My intention is to highlight the ways
in which environmental law and
policy as currently developed impact negatively on constitutional government,
the economy and ultimately
the capacity of nations to find the most appropriate
responses to environmental problems.
This paper is in three parts. In Part
1, I discuss certain aspects of the current environmental debate as useful
background for considering
the legal and policy issues which I address. This is
not a scientific paper and I make no claim for the validity of any opinion I
express on the relevant science. All I wish to do in Part 1 is to highlight a
specific impediment to the discussion of the issues
I address, namely, the
perception that the debate is over as regards the existence and scale of the
threats to the environment,
that we have no choice left but to embrace the
command and control agenda. In Part 2, I undertake three tasks. First, I discuss
the
central ideas of constitutionalism and their relevance to the challenges
posed by environmental concerns. Second, I discuss in this
context the state of
the law in New Zealand and elsewhere with respect to the regulation of property
use and the question of compensation.
Third, I address some of the criticisms of
the classical view of constitutionalism that are made by those who support
robust regulation
and the subordination of property rights to other interests.
In Part 3, I consider the ways in which current resource management
laws,
including the NZ Resource Management Act (RMA) affect property rights,
the rule of law and constitutionalism.
Part 1
MIRAGE OF CONSENSUS - THE POLITICS OF
COMMAND & CONTROL
I do not doubt that if there is consensus today about an imminent
environmental catastrophe most people would agree on drastic measures
and accept
their economic and political costs. What use is liberty and wealth if we all
perish? The problem is that there is no consensus
even among experts on what
threats we face and what we can and should do about them. The perception of
consensus is a major driver
of environmental policies and regulatory systems
that are seriously at odds with the principles of constitutional government. Let
us consider as an example, the hottest environmental debate today - climate
change. Contrary to what appears in the media, experts
disagree on the rate of
climate change, its consequences, how much of climate change is caused by human
activity, the appropriate
responses and the costs and benefits of proposed
responses. There is a growing body of literature that disputes the alleged
consensus
by contesting the science behind climate change pessimism. (See
discussions in Lomborg, 2001; Bailey, 2002; Michaels, 2005)
On 1 May 2006, a
group of New Zealand climate scientists announced the formation of the
‘New Zealand Climate Science Coalition’.
(The New Zealand Herald
1 May 2006) This is a group of sceptics who think that expert panels should
be established to test and if necessary challenge the
public announcements and
warnings that issue from the UN International Panel on Climate Change (IPCC).
The coalition’s secretary
Terry Dunleavy views the formation of the group
as ‘a significant development in opening up the debate about the real
effects
of climate change and the justification for the costs and other measures
prescribed in the Kyoto protocols’. He added that
the coalition aimed to
provide a balance to ‘what is being fed to the people of New
Zealand’. On 6 April 2006, sixty
Canadian experts ‘in climate and
related scientific disciplines’ wrote an open letter to the Canadian Prime
Minister
Stephen Harper urging a balanced and comprehensive public consultation
process to examine the scientific foundation of the federal
government's
climate-change plans. They stated that ‘Global climate changes all the
time due to natural causes and the human
impact still remains impossible to
distinguish from this natural 'noise'. (National Post, April 6, 2006) On
April 18, 2006 an opposing open letter was published by ninety pro-Kyoto climate
experts in Canada. (CBS News,
18 April 2006) So it was 90 to 60 against the
sceptics but the numbers on each side (admittedly a straw poll) shows that there
is
nowhere near a consensus on climate change among Canadian experts. In its
2005 Economics of Climate Change Report, the House of Lords Select
Committee on Economic Affairs stated that the committee had ‘some concerns
about the objectivity
of the IPPC process, with some of its emissions scenarios
and summary documentation apparently influenced by political
considerations’.
(House of Lords, 2005: 6) The committee also reported
that ‘there are some positive aspects to global warming and these appear
to have been played down in the IPPC reports’ and the committee urged the
British Government ‘to take the lead in exploring
alternative
“architectures” for future Protocols, based perhaps on agreements on
technology and its diffusion’.
(Ibid)
What is the worst case scenario
of climate change? The IPCC’s 2001 Report forecasts that the range of mean
temperature change
will be 1.4 to 5.8 C by the year 2100. The UK Met
Office’s Hadley Centre currently predicts a 3C rise by 2100 on a business
as usual scenario. (Hadley Centre, 2006) There are serious questions about the
figures and methods used by the IPPC. These estimates
are based on separate
independent evidence and therefore some argue that they must be combined with
the Bayesian theorem to generate
an overall estimate of climate sensitivity.
When this is done we have a sensitivity prediction of 3 C. (Worstall, 2006) The
forecast
is also critically influenced by the rate of gas emissions projected by
the Special Report on Emission Scenarios (SRES) which employs a series of
economic models to predict how the world will develop in the next one hundred
years. These scenarios
are used to estimate the tonnage of green house gas
emissions that will occur. Ian Castles (former head of the Australian Bureau
of
Statistics) and David Henderson (former Chief Economist of OECD) question the
use in the SRES of market exchange rates (MER) to
compare relative levels of
wealth between rich and poor countries as opposed to the more realistic basis of
purchase power parity
(PPP). Since the SRES models assume convergence of the
rich and poor countries the application of MER rather than the PPP would make
a
significant difference to scenarios. It leads to the prediction (even the lowest
emission scenarios) that by the end of this century,
Americans will be poorer on
average than South Africans, Algerians, Argentines, Libyans, Turks and North
Koreans! (Castles and Henderson,
2003) The IPCC and other supporters have been
compelled to concede this error though they challenge the significance of the
difference.
Even if climate change over the next century is assumed to be
at the upper end of the predicted range, say 5 to 5.8 C, how should
we deal with
it? It is estimated, even if Kyoto is implemented by all countries including the
US and an emissions reduction of 1%
per annum is achieved from 2010, the
difference we make to the global temperature increase by 2100 will be 0.3
degrees Celsius. (Wigley,
1998: 2285-2288) The total cost of global warming
could be as much as US$ 5 trillion. Yet, as Bjorn Lomborg in his controversial
book The Skeptical Environmentalist points out, some of the solutions
suggested could cost the world trillions and even tens of trillions of dollars
over and above that
figure. (Lomberg, 2001: 318) This is money that in the form
of investment could raise billions of people out of poverty and drive
their
societies to levels of prosperity that makes environmental improvements
affordable. Lomborg is no libertarian capitalist ideologue.
He is a left leaning
statistician whose thesis is uncompromisingly grounded in data that even WWF,
Greenpeace and the Worldwatch
Institute largely accept. When he speaks of the
bias in the environmental debate, it is worth listening. He asks why global
warming
is not discussed with an open attitude but with a fervour befitting
preachers. He thinks that the answer is ‘that global warming
is not just a
question choosing the optimal economic path for humanity, but has much deeper,
political roots as to the kind of future
society we would like’. (Ibid.)
The Kyoto regime is one of targets and penalties. The House of Lords Select
Committee on Economic Affairs in its Report on the Economics of Climate
Change recommends that the way forward is through technological development
and diffusion. (House of Lords, 2005: 68-9) This is exactly the
alternative
vision espoused by the recently established Asia-Pacific Partnership on Clean
Development and Climate (APPCDC). The partner
nations the US, India, China,
Japan, Australia and South Korea account for 50 per cent of the world’s
greenhouse gas emissions,
energy consumption, GDP and population. The protocol
allows each nation to tailor its own targets but commits them to cooperation
in
technology development and to seek ways to engage the private sector in these
endeavours.
I have presented these sceptical views not for the purpose of
refuting the pessimistic scenarios but to question the great weapon
in the
environmentalists’ armoury – the claim of consensus. The debate on
climate change is not over as a majority of
environmentalists, media people and
politicians claim. It is more likely that we are seeing the beginning of the
first serious public
debate on the subject. Similar differences of opinion exist
in the scientific community over a wide range of environmental issues
including
those concerning, biodiversity, native vegetation, genetic modification of crops
and nuclear energy. It is not in the interest
of science or humanity to silence
the alternative points of view on these issues. Unfortunately there is a danger
that environmental
law will do just that.
The precautionary principle as trump
In the face of scientific
uncertainty environmentalists retreat to what is known as the precautionary
principle (PP). The precautionary
principle was first articulated in the 1990
Bergen Declaration on Sustainable Development that followed a UN sponsored
conference
of European environment ministers. It states that ‘where there
are threats of a serious or irreversible environmental damage,
lack of
scientific certainty should not be used as a reason for postponing measures to
prevent environmental degradation’.
It is now repeated in modified forms
in UN declarations on environmental issues. Many national policy documents
incorporate PP in
various formulations and it has found its way into the
Australian and New Zealand planning statutes in different ways. The principle
as
stated in the Bergen Declaration is an exercise in circular reasoning that
contributes little to good science or public policy
but serves as a powerful
rhetorical weapon in swaying public opinion. In its wider sense, it demands the
disregard of scientific
uncertainty when there is a threat of serious and
irreversible harm. But scientific uncertainty is mostly about the existence of
threats and the nature and extent of the harm. If so the principle makes little
sense. Other questions arise. Would a slight threat
call for action? How serious
must the damage be? In an evolving system like the environment irreversible
change occurs naturally.
Must we respond to all these at whatever cost? Is a
cost and benefit analysis justified in taking or postponing measures?
Uncertainty
attends all science. Scientific theories about physical phenomena
are falsifiable. In every case, we must make a pragmatic decision
whether or not
to rely on a given theory. We are more cautious in adopting a theory when the
evidence is weak and the stakes are
high and we are less so when the stakes are
low. The precautionary principle if it means anything is nothing more than
common sense
most people employ in risk management. In going about life we look
at what is at risk and the extent of risk. At the community level
risk
assessment is a matter of political judgment. However, in the more expansive
interpretations urged by conservation lobbies,
it can serve as a trump against
human activity whenever there is risk of harm to the environment of an
unspecified degree. If indeed
this becomes legal doctrine it will introduce a
new form of uncertainty to the law that will further destabilise property rights
and by its arbitrariness harm the rule of law.
Precaution against the precautionary principle
As discussed below,
PP is not a common law principle. But it is increasingly used in the advocacy of
policy at international and national
levels, in relation to the preparation and
adoption of regional and local planning schemes and in proceedings for various
consents
and licences under planning and resource management statutes. There is
a strong effort by environmental advocates to elevate PP to
a legal standard
that displaces common sense caution in environmental matters. So far this has
met legislative and judicial resistance.
Even international instruments have
introduced important qualifications to PP most significantly to recognise the
need for cost-benefit
assessment of measures. The Rio Declaration on
Environment and Development (1992) restates PP as: ‘full scientific
certainty shall not be used as a reason for postponing cost-effective
measures to prevent environmental degradation.’ The European Union
Guidelines for the Application of the Precautionary Principle states
(among other things) that ‘Measures...must not be disproportionate to the
desired level of protection and must not aim
at zero risk’ and that they
should follow an ‘examination of the benefits and costs of action or lack
of action’. (EC Commentary, 2 February 2000) The
danger in allowing PP to be used as a trump is reflected in the cautious manner
that governments and planning courts have embraced
the principle. Justice
Pearlman in the NSW Land and Environmental Court explicitly rejected PP as
trump. He construed PP as follows:
The application of the precautionary principle dictates that a cautious approach should be adopted in evaluating the various relevant factors in determining whether or not to grant consent: it does not require that the greenhouse issue should outweigh all other issues. (Greenpeace Australia Ltd v Redbank Power Company Pty Ltd and Singleton Council (1994) LGERA 143 at 155)
Justice Talbot in the New South Wales Land and Environment Court observed,
‘the so-called precautionary principle’ added
‘nothing to the
consideration that the Court undertakes by applying common sense’.
(Alumino (Aust) Pty Ltd v Minister Administering the Environmental Planning
and Assessment Act, unreported, Land and Environment Court, 29 March 1996)
Justice Stein in Leatch v National Parks and Wildlife Service and Shoalhaven
City Council called PP ‘a statement of commonsense’ whose
premise is that ‘where uncertainty or ignorance exists concerning the
nature or scope of environmental harm (whether this follows from policies,
decisions, or activities), decision makers should be cautious’
((1993) 81
LGERA 270 at 282). The New Zealand Environment Court has taken the view that it
is not necessary to import international definitions of PP
as the relevant
principle is embodied in s 3(f) of the Resource Management Act which
provides that ‘In this Act, unless the context otherwise requires, the
term “effect” includes ... (f) Any
potential effect of low
probability which has a high potential impact’. (Shirley Primary
School v Telecom Mobile Communications Ltd [1998] NZEnvC 394; [1999] NZRMA 66) This approach
has been confirmed in Clifford Bay Marine Farms Ltd v Marlborough District
Council C131/2003; Golden Bay Marine Farmers v Tasman District Council
W42/01.) In Land Air Water Association v Waikato Regional Council the
NZ Environment Court made it clear that the RMA does not endorse a ‘no
risk’ regime. (A110/01) In Bleakley v Environment Risk Management Board
[2001] 3 NZLR 213, the New Zealand High Court considered the requirement in
s 7 of the Hazardous Substances and New Organisms Act 1996 that the
authority ‘take into account the need for caution in managing adverse
effects’ where there is ‘scientific
and technical uncertainty about
those effects’. The appellants, who were objecting to the approval of
field testing of a genetically
modified variety of cattle, argued that the words
of s 7 imported the precautionary principle. The Court found no assistance
‘from
the suggested importation of the (somewhat uncertain) international
concept of a “precautionary principle” whether such
is expressed in
terms of the Rio Declaration or otherwise’ noting further that
‘Parliament deliberately avoided that
concept, even to the point of
adopting the word “approach” rather than “principle’.
(at 96-7)
The Integrated Planning Act (QLD) shows similar caution in
its definition of PP as ‘the principle that, if there are threats of
serious or irreversible
environmental damage, careful evaluation must be made to
avoid wherever practicable serious or irreversible environmental damage
including, if appropriate, assessing risk weighted consequences of various
options’.
The qualification ‘wherever practicable’ and the
requirement of risk weighting constitute a clear invitation to planning
authorities and the courts to take account of all factors including the
economic.
When PP is qualified in these ways, it is nothing but a
restatement of the commonsense caution that guides human behaviour. Yet it
continues to be a powerful rhetorical weapon and is urged in its more stringent
forms in planning tribunals, court rooms, policy
forums and media. Its elevation
to a legal doctrine with the force of a trump will be a major blow to
constitutionalism.
Determining goals: apocalyptic, utopian and evolutionary views of the
environment
Public policy is influenced by public opinion and public
opinion by the theories and stories that dominate public discussion. Two
points
of view have been prominent in public discussion on the environment - the
apocalyptic and the utopian – often in conjunction.
According to the
apocalyptic vision, we are at the ‘tipping point’ of environmental
destiny. If we do not turn back now
there will be no escape from a catastrophic
chain of events. It is announced in prime time by respected journalists as
established
truth. World leaders endorse it. Academics teach it. The utopian
vision associates the good environment with a past pristine condition
of the
Earth. The more extreme among them would pursue this dream even at the expense
of humanity. The Gaia Hypothesis formulated
by James Lovelock in the mid-1960s
has encouraged this view though Lovelock made no such inference from his theory.
The hypothesis
proposes that our planet functions as a single organism that
maintains conditions necessary for its survival. This theory though
unproven has
become the inspiration of the romantic and radical elements within the
environmental movement. As a hypothesis about
the nature of the complex system
that is Earth, it is interesting. The problem lies in its deification.
Elected governments are constrained by public opinion from embracing
apocalyptic or utopian visions. It is difficult to persuade electorates
to make
present sacrifices for uncertain future risks. Governments therefore subscribe
publicly to the policy of sustainable development.
The UN Commission on Economic
Development (UNCED), in its 1987 declaration Our Common Future, defined
sustainable development as development that ‘meets the needs of the
present without compromising the ability of future
generations to meet their own
needs’. The New Zealand RMA declares as its purpose the promotion of
‘sustainable management
of natural and physical resources’. (s 5(1))
The Act offers as a definition the statement that ‘sustainable
management’
is ‘managing the use, development, and protection of
natural and physical resources in a way, or at a rate, which enables people
and
communities to provide for their social, economic, and cultural wellbeing and
for their health and safety while (a) sustaining
the potential of natural and
physical resources (excluding minerals) to meet the reasonably foreseeable needs
of future generations;
and (b) safeguarding the life-supporting capacity of air,
water, soil, and ecosystems; and (c) avoiding, remedying, or mitigating
any
adverse effects of activities on the environment’. (s 5(2)). The
definition is in effect circular and leaves the question
of the meaning of
‘sustainable’ unanswered. Jerry Taylor’s observation captures
the central problem of any concept
of sustainable development.
How can we reasonably be expected to know, for example, what the needs of future generations will be? Imagine the economic planner of 1890 attempting to plan for the needs of today. Whale oil for heating, copper for telegram wires, rock salt for refrigeration, and draft horses for transportation and agriculture would all be high on the list of scarce resources he would worry about sustaining 100 years hence, whereas petroleum, on the other hand, would not appear on that list at all, since oil was not an economic resource at the time. (Taylor, 2001)
There is another way of looking at nature which is informed by evolutionary
theory and the science of emergent complexity. This approach
does not condone
wilful or negligent environmental harm and recognises the need to prevent harm
that is preventable. The critical
difference is that according to the
evolutionary viewpoint, there is no pre-ordained ideal state of nature. The
environment is a
dynamic process that is unfolding in consequence of endogenous
forces including the endeavours of human beings to better their lives.
As
Jennifer Marohasy observes, ‘competition, adaptation and natural
selection, sometimes against a backdrop of catastrophic
climate change, have
driven the evolution of life on earth.’ (Marohasy, 2004: 29-30) All of
this does not mean that we cannot
or must not prevent harm that is preventable.
What it means is that we should be aiming to have a healthy environment as
against
the pursuit of an imaginary unachievable pristine state at the cost of
all other interests. The removal of technological civilisation
from the
ecological equation (as some environmentalists would have it) will produce
dramatic reactions throughout the world that
is hard to predict and impossible
to control. Nature is dynamic, not static. Ecosystems, the organic world, human
societies and culture
itself are emergent complex systems. They are adaptive and
from the evolutionary viewpoint they have no teleological or pre-ordained
ideal
states. The planet itself has no ideal state.
Since natural systems are
dynamic, it is not possible to hold the landscape in some sort of precautionary
stasis. For example, prohibiting
land management and tree clearing can result in
forest encroachment and woodland thickening that will impact on biodiversity and
surface water runoff. Some experts think that the full implementation of the
vegetation management laws of Queensland is likely
to be general woodland
thickening across approximately 50 million hectares of Queensland. (Burrows et
al, 2002: 769-84) Burrows speculates
about the consequences for
biodiversity.
The dense woody plant communities that will result will be resistant to natural disturbances such as fire. We will take from them the one widely accepted element in the distinctive evolution of our flora & fauna – except for rare & grossly destructive holocaust fires! This is not precautionary – it is challenging nature. Our greenies are figuratively putting out the flames with napalm. (Burrows, 2004)
Part 2
CONSTITUTIONALISM AND RESOURCE
MANAGEMENT
What is a constitution and what is constitutional
government?
Constitutionalism is the preference for constitutional
government. Constitutional government is a remarkable achievement of
civilization
that has been gained at a great price. Constitutional government
enthrones the rule of law in the sense of the supremacy of known,
general and
impersonal laws over rulers and subjects alike. Millions of people around the
world have died in the establishment and
defence of constitutional government.
This is not an exaggeration when the human costs of the seventeenth century
constitutional
struggles in England, the American Revolution, the Civil War, the
two World Wars, the uprisings against fascist and communist rule
and present day
democracy movements in China, Burma, Zimbabwe and elsewhere are aggregated.
Constitutional government is hard to
win but not so hard to lose. It is always
under pressure from seen and unseen opponents.
The term ‘constitution’ once was synonymous with constitutional government that meant a particular type of political order in which the authority of rulers, including their legislative power, was limited through appropriate institutional devices and both rulers and citizens were subject to the general law of the land. However, the term is so debased that the most widely read encyclopaedia, the Encyclopaedia Britannica informs its readers that in its simplest and most neutral sense, every country has a constitution no matter how badly or erratically it may be governed. (Encyclopaedia Britannica, vol 16 (1986) 732) A constitution in this simple sense refers to the official description of the constitution or the paper constitution. There is another more realistic sense in which the word ‘constitution’ is used. It refers to the constitution as it actually operates. This is the constitution that lives in the experience of the people, the living constitution that economists sometimes call the ‘economic constitution’. The constitution in this sense deviates from the paper constitution sometimes for the better but often for the worse. New Zealand’s Constitution Act 1986 reposes absolute power in a single chamber Parliament. Yet New Zealand enjoys a much greater degree of constitutional government than most countries with elaborate written safeguards. The United Kingdom has a robust democracy and an outstanding record on human rights without a document that can be called a constitution. (The United Kingdom’s constitution, shaped by common law, convention and historic statutes such as the Magna Carta and the Bill of Rights, remain susceptible to change by parliamentary legislation.) As against these shining examples, we find many countries failing to secure a semblance of the constitutional order proclaimed in their official constitutional instruments.
There is a third, philosophical, sense in which the term
‘constitution’ is used. It is the classical idea of a constitution,
the Politeia of Aristotle. (Aristotle 350 BC [1932]: 304-5) It is the
Rechtsstaat of German jurisprudence. It is what F A Hayek termed the
‘constitution of liberty’ in his famous work bearing that name.
In
The Constitution of Liberty Hayek set out to present a restatement of the
principles of a free society. (Hayek, 1978) This restatement was completed in
the three
volumes that constitute the monumental intellectual defence of the
rule of law and individual freedom, Law Legislation and Liberty. (Hayek,
1976-1983) These treatises together explain the logic and the institutional
framework of the political order that sustains
human freedom. At the heart of
the constitution of liberty is the supremacy of general laws over all authority,
public or private.
Its modalities include the rejection of sovereign authority,
even of elected assemblies, the effective separation of the executive,
judicial
and law making powers and the geographical dispersal of power through federal
arrangements. The constitution in this classical
sense is a response to a
perennial problem in human existence – that of creating power to
coordinate collective action to secure
essential public goods while restraining
the repositories of power from abusing it.
The bedrock of the classical idea
of a constitution is a particular conception of the rule of law, namely the
subordination of all
public and private power to general norms of conduct. It is
said that the rule of law is a necessary condition of freedom but not
a
sufficient one. This proposition sounds logical inasmuch as certain laws may
diminish the liberty of all while ostensibly remaining
faithful to the rule of
law ideal. For example, prohibition of alcohol consumption in some countries
limits the choice of everyone.
But on reflection it is evident that such laws
eventually defeat the rule of law. Unreasonably restrictive laws are likely to
be
kept in place only by derogations from the rule of law in other respects.
Typically, prohibition laws are maintained by privileging
certain religious or
moral opinions as against others. It is also claimed that abhorrent institutions
such as apartheid and slavery
can be implemented consistently with the rule of
law provided that the disabilities they impose are not the result of arbitrary
discretions
of authorities. This claim is much more problematic. In such cases,
the legislators themselves are acting arbitrarily in both establishing
and
maintaining the institutions. The rule of law’s prescription against
arbitrary determinations applies equally to the legislature
and to constituent
bodies. Such laws are general only in a very perverse sense. Thus in countries
where there is cultural diversity,
the constitutional privileging of particular
religions or languages create serious problems for the rule of law. It is true
that
people’s lives are more predictable where discrimination results from
pre-announced rules rather than from the momentary will
of officials. Much
depends on the extent to which the discrimination diminishes the life chances of
the selected group. The rule
of law is maintained in the longer term not by
coercive power but by the people’s fidelity to the law. Hence
constitutions
and laws that pre-ordain selected groups to lasting deprivation
may lead to constitutional instability owing to the loss of fidelity.
Where this
happens, political authority can be maintained only by increasingly arbitrary
projections of coercive power that subverts
the the rule of law.
A
constitution that is not purely a fiction is one that exists in the experience
of the people. No amount of lofty ideals proclaimed
in formal enactments and no
amount of inspiring judicial exposition will bring a constitution into existence
if a society lacks the
material conditions that can sustain a constitution. I
have argued elsewhere that a nation needs four conditions to secure and maintain
constitutional government. They are: (1) prevalence of the philosophical
conception of constitutional government as a dominant ideology;
(2) an official
constitution in written or customary form that adopts this conception of
constitutional government; (3) an institutional
matrix that sustains the
official constitution and translates it into the experience of the people; and
(4) a healthy economy that
supports the institutional foundation of
constitutional government. (Ratnapala, 2003: 5-26) These conditions are
inter-dependent.
In particular, economic performance depends critically on sound
institutions and conversely when economic conditions decline, institutions
of
constitutional government are imperilled.
How can we explain the strength of
the constitution of New Zealand? The formal constitution reposes sovereign power
in a unicameral
legislature which is usually under the control of the ruling
party or coalition. According to orthodox positivist theory of sovereignty,
the
New Zealand Parliament can extend its life indefinitely, abolish political
parties, socialise all private property, disenfranchise
people of Scottish
descent and replace the common law with Sharia law. Yet, we know that this can
only happen in positivist fantasy.
The reason why none of this is remotely
possible is that the living constitution of New Zealand is not what is sketched
in the Constitution Act though that Act is an important part of it. The living
constitution of New Zealand is made up of a web of interdependent and
mutually
supportive norms reflecting legal, political, cultural, moral and economic
constraints that secure New Zealand’s rule
of law, basic liberties and
democracy. Economists call these constraints institutions. Their existence
cannot be taken for granted
but need to be protected and nurtured. They tend to
flourish in conditions of economic prosperity and come under severe pressure
in
times of hardship. I will return presently to the subject of these constraints.
For the moment it should be noted that our chief
concern in this discussion is
with this living constitution as distinguished from the notional sovereignty of
the New Zealand Parliament.
Parliament’s sovereignty ultimately rests on
these institutions and on public opinion. My principal message is that the
regulatory
trends in environmental protection are posing threats to the
constitution that really matters in the lives of the people.
Constitutionalism, common law and the problem of externalities
The
English system of common law is by nature in harmony with constitutional
government. One does not have to employ theological or
Blackstonian natural law
theory to explain this harmony. The relationship between common law as
classically practiced and constitutional
government can be explained in
utilitarian and epistemological terms. It is not an accident of history that
England became the birthplace
of modern constitutionalism. While in continental
Europe, the feudal kingships gave way to absolute monarchies, the English
royalty
never acquired absolute power or the voluntas principis which
identified the law with the will of the ruler. When the Stuart kings claimed
this power, they were opposed and defeated by the
coalition of common law judges
and Parliament leading to the re-affirmation of the supremacy of the law over
executive power. The
post revolution English Constitution (theoretically
rationalised by Locke and Montesquieu) provided the guiding principles for the
construction of the American Constitution.
Hayek more than any other scholar
helps us to understand the constitutional significance of the common law method.
(Hayek, 1982: vol
1, 35-46, 94-101) The common law as he explained is an
instance of spontaneous order. It consists of rules of conduct that have emerged
in consequence of the coincidence of behaviour on the part of actors pursuing
their private ends. Common law is an outstanding example
of what the eighteenth
century Scottish philosopher Adam Ferguson spoke of in his memorable observation
that ‘nations stumble
upon establishments, which are indeed the result of
human action, but not the execution of any human design’. (Ferguson,
1966[1767]:
122) The practice of promise keeping is the result of accumulated
experience, habit meshing and shared expectations and not of the
command of a
ruler or sage. Certain kinds of promises are enforced as contracts because
people learned to rely on these practices
and breach of contract defeated their
reasonably held expectations. The common law judge ideally upholds these grown
rules and only
makes incremental adjustments in the process of applying them to
novel cases. In one sense they create law in recognising and giving
effect to
these rules but in another sense they are articulating rules that are
crystallising within the community. Historically,
common law courts have not
always lived up to this ideal. However, it is fair to say that the courts when
they function properly
do not impose their arbitrary will on the law and that
courts that do so will soon lose public confidence and before long their
authority.
From the constitutional standpoint the common law has three
outstanding virtues. First, the rules that are distilled from accumulated
experience and commonly held expectations are general and negative in character.
It is impossible to universalise fundamental laws
against the violation of
person and property as demands for positive action. If the rule is to apply to
all persons it must take
the form of ‘thou shall not’. Thus, the
common law represented the supremacy of general law over private and public
power.
(This of course changed after the revolution of 1688 when Parliament
began to assert its supremacy in matters of law after.) Second,
there is no
place within the common law system for capricious interference with rights. The
common law judge, as just explained lacks
the arbitrary powers of elected and
unelected rulers. Third, the common law has shown a remarkable capacity to
internalise externalities
by allocating responsibility for harm.
The common
law is not a system of unbounded freedom, but one where individual autonomy is
limited by the rules of justice. A society
of unbounded freedom is a
contradiction in terms. The unlimited freedom of one must come at the expense of
the freedom of others.
The rules of justice upon which a liberal society is
based are fundamentally concerned with the externalities that result from the
exercise of freedom by individuals. They enjoin individuals from conduct harmful
to others and require wrong doers to make reparation
to the persons harmed.
Often the wrongfulness of the conduct is clear and visible as in murder,
robbery, arson, rape, harmful negligence
and so on. Sometimes though, persons
may cause harm to others by conduct that may not immediately be recognised as
contrary to the
fundamental rules of justice. Consider the case of pesticides
used by a farmer causing damage to properties down stream or teenagers
playing
loud music in a quiet neighbourhood or a religious sect refusing to be immunised
against a deadly virus. It might seem at
first that the actors are merely
exercising their rights within the rules of just conduct. Yet, from the
standpoint of the victims
they are straightforward cases of the violation of
their rights not to be physically, monetarily or psychologically harmed by the
wilful or negligent conduct of others. These are the types of externalities that
invite state action and test the limits of tolerance
in a liberal society.
The common law as an evolving and adaptive system has shown remarkable
capacity to internalize externalities by developing rules for
apportioning
responsibility for harm. The common law tort of nuisance, for example, seeks to
uphold the principle of ‘give
and take’ and defines the obligations
of neighbourliness. (Fleming, 1992: 409) The polluting land owner and the
teenagers may
be judicially enjoined for causing private nuisance. The sect
members who refuse immunisation on grounds of conscience may face actions
for
damages if they contract and communicate deadly disease. The common law by
nature is not proactive but responds mainly to claims
made after injury.
However, where harm to person or property is imminent from trespass (intentional
injury to person, land or goods)
or nuisance, the courts have authority to
restrain by injunction the harmful activity, especially when damages will not
provide adequate
reparation. (Fleming, 1992: 48, 445)
Admittedly, the common
law does not provide perfect protection. Injunctions can be sought only by those
whose rights are under threat
from unlawful action and they are not always
effective as remedies. It is easier to stop chemical and noise polluters than to
compel
parents to inoculate children. The liability rules and the remedies
developed at common law and equity cannot prevent all externalities
and nor
should they if the society is to remain liberal. The goal of perfect safety and
convenience is abandoned by liberals as unachievable
in the real world. The
attempt to eliminate all minor risks entails the creation of major risks. This
insight is an important part
of the epistemological case for liberalism.
Consider a law that prevents a potentially life saving drug from being sold
until there is 100 per cent safety. Millions of people
may die while producers
and regulators argue about risk level. At a recent conference I attended,
Warren Mundine, a highly respected
leader within the Australian aboriginal
community and the current national President of the Australian Labour Party
spoke of the
devastation that minimum wage laws (combined with new technologies)
produced in remote aboriginal communities. The minimum wage was
applied
universally. Some aboriginal communities that enjoyed one hundred percent
employment in local mining operations found themselves
overnight with hundred
percent unemployment and total dependence on government welfare. The examples
are endless.
What the common law cannot do well
As the famous insight of Ronald
Coase suggests, in a world of zero transaction costs, the law’s allocation
of rights would hardly
matter. (Coase, 1960) If the law allows me to pollute my
neighbour’s land with smoke, my neighbour can pay me to use cleaner
fuels,
re-tool my factory or even close it down. If the law prohibits me from polluting
my neighbour’s property, I can buy
from him the right to pollute. Either
way we will bargain to the most efficient arrangement under which the activity
that is valued
most will continue. All that is needed are clear and secure
property rights, freedom of contract and effective remedies in contract
and
tort. In theory, the common law backed by sound institutions can provide these.
However, the real world is not cost free. The
law might not let the bargain be
struck. Or it will be frightfully difficult to enforce if either party
dishonours it. Again the
pollution might harm not just my neighbour but all
persons residing within a large area and it is impossible to strike bargains
with
all of them. The problem may be caused by the cumulative effect of
emissions from many factories and motor vehicles making bargaining
even more
difficult. In the absence of contractual arrangements, victims must seek relief
under the law of torts. These are kinds
of harm that the common law is ill
adapted to mitigate.
Where the alleged harm is to the general public and the
causes of harm are uncertain or the harm results from the cumulative effects
of
natural and human causes, the common law does not provide effective remedies.
There are two major reasons for this. First, the
common law remedies are granted
to successful plaintiffs against one or more defendants. If there is no
defendant there is no case
for the court to decide. Hence the common law cannot
be invoked to claim damages unless the loss or damage can be causally connected
to acts or omissions of identified persons. If residents of a city suffer ill
health because of the emissions of one or more factories,
the factory owners may
be held responsible at common law to persons who suffer ill health. But if a
similar hazard results from too
many motor vehicles on city streets, those who
suffer ill health cannot successfully sue all motorists. When pollution is the
cumulative
effect of emissions from various sources, it is impractical to
apportion responsibility among individual motorists even if the requisite
causal
nexus between emissions and ill health is established. (It is extremely unlikely
that such a claim would even succeed against
vehicle manufacturers.) A second
reason is that even if a causal nexus can be established between harm and the
actions of known persons,
if the act was perfectly legal at the time it was done
and the harm could not have been reasonably foreseen the common law will not
hold the actor responsible. The common law rule of strict liability applies only
in rare circumstances.
In clear cases of harm resulting from a state of
affairs for which particular persons are not responsible, there may be some
justification
for proportionate legislative responses. Legislative solutions
must be espoused with great caution (precautionary principle in reverse)
and
measures must be crafted with utmost care taking costs and benefits into
account. A law governed society will ideally respond
in the following manner. A
new prospective, clear, general, observable and reasonable rule of conduct will
be enacted that will limit
the previously legitimate activity but only to the
extent reasonably required to avert the harm to the public. The law will also
make provision to compensate persons whose property is taken or diminished in
consequence of the new rule.
The constitutional importance of compensation
Given that certain
environmental objectives are worth achieving, the question arises as to who
should bear the costs involved in their
achievement. The common law principle is
that those who cause damage to others must pay for reparation but beyond that if
individuals
are asked to sacrifice property for the benefit of all society, the
cost of that sacrifice must be borne by society as a whole.
This is an
important principle that lies at the heart of constitutional government and the
case for conservation laws that depart
from this principle needs to be
rigorously tested.
The most fundamental proposition of the common law and of
constitutional government is that no one whether official or citizen must
violate the person or property of another without the authority of the law.
Justice Kirby described this principle as expressing
‘an essential idea
which is both basic and virtually uniform in civilised legal systems’.
(Newcrest Mining (WA) v Commonwealth [1997] HCA 38; (1997) 190 CLR 513 at 659) The
immortal words of Lord Chief Justice Camden in Entick v Carrington are
worth repeating:
The great end, for which men entered into society, was to secure their property. That right is preserved sacred and incommunicable in all instances, where it has not been taken away or abridged by some public law for the good of the whole. The cases where this right of property is set aside by private law are various. Distresses, executions, forfeitures, taxes etc are all of this description; wherein every man by common consent gives up that right, for the sake of justice and the general good. By the laws of England, every invasion of private property, be it ever so minute, is a trespass. No man can set his foot upon my ground without my license, but he is liable to an action, though the damage be nothing; which is proved by every declaration in trespass, where the defendant is called upon to answer for bruising the grass and even treading upon the soil. If he admits the fact, he is bound to show by way of justification, that some positive law has empowered or excused him. The justification is submitted to the judges, who are to look into the books; and if such a justification can be maintained by the text of the statute law, or by the principles of common law. If no excuse can be found or produced, the silence of the books is an authority against the defendant, and the plaintiff must have judgment. (19 Howell’s State Trials 1029 (1765)
In some countries like Australia and the United States, there are
constitutional prohibitions against the taking of property without
paying just
compensation. The New Zealand Parliament is not so constrained and may authorise
the taking of private property. However,
there is a strong common law
presumption that in the absence of express words Parliament does not intend to
deprive persons of their
property without just compensation. In Burmah Oil Co
Ltd v Lord Advocate Lord Hodson recognised that as ‘far as the common
law is concerned ... there is a natural leaning in favour of compensation
in the
construction of a statute’. ([1965] AC 75 at 139) In Belfast
Corporation v O D Cars Ltd, Lord Radcliffe described the common law
presumption as a ‘general principle, accepted by the legislature and
scrupulously
defended by the courts, that the title to property or the enjoyment
of its possession was not to be compulsorily acquired from a
subject unless full
compensation was afforded in its place’. ([1960] AC 490 at 523) The
presumption is well established in
Australian law. As Williams J explained in
South Australian River Fishery Association and Warrick v South Australia,
‘legislation should not be treated as empowering the removal or impairment
of a vested property right without compensation
unless the legislation contains
a clear statement of this intended authority.’ [2003] SASC 38; (2003) 84 SASR 507 at 551)
The New Zealand courts recognise this presumption. In Westco Lagan v
Attorney-General Justice McGechan re-affirmed the orthodox view that
Parliament can enact laws expropriating property without compensation but
acknowledged
that ‘authorities illustrating that the courts lean against
taking without compensation and international norms advanced [by
the plaintiff]
are undeniable in their own right’. ([2001] 1 NZLR 40 at 54) In Te
Runanganui o Te Ika Whenua Inc Society v Attorney-General, the Court of
Appeal acknowledged that ‘there is an assumption that, on any
extinguishment of the aboriginal title [of Maori]
proper compensation will be
paid’. ([1994] 2 NZLR 20 at 24) This comment was made in the context of a
decision which held that
property rights under Maori law subsisted under common
law principles. The Court was thus applying the general common law principle
of
compensation to takings of Maori property. What is good law for Maori property
is good law for all property in New Zealand.
New Zealand’s
constitutional principles are drawn from her common law heritage. Accordingly,
the NZ Parliament’s Legislation
Advisory Committee Guidelines on
Process and Content of Legislation direct that drafters of laws address the
questions whether the legislation complies with fundamental common law
principles, whether
vested rights have been altered (if so, is that essential,
and if so, have compensation mechanisms been included), and whether pre-existing
legal situations have been affected, particularly by retroactivity (if so, is
that essential, and what mechanisms have been adopted
to deal with them.
(Legislation Advisory Committee, 2001: Chapter 3). The Attorney-General also has
a duty under s 7 of the Bill of Rights Act 1990 (NZ) to bring to the
attention of the House of Representatives any provision in a Bill that appears
to be inconsistent with any of
the rights and freedoms set out in the Bill of
Rights. However, the Bill of Rights provides little protection for private
property
against arbitrary state interference.
Regulatory takings and compensation
Planning and resource
management laws, as a general rule, fail to provide compensation for the loss of
property value that results
from the restriction of land use. If the law is
designed to prevent private or public nuisance no compensation is owed in common
law as no one has a right to cause nuisance to others. This is the well known
nuisance exception to the principle of compensation
for takings. The prevention
of nuisance in its various forms falls within the traditional police function of
the state. However,
the nuisance exception can be a serious threat to the rule
of law unless it is grounded in traditional notions of right and wrong
with
respect to property use. My neighbour has a right that I do not pollute his
property by emissions or noise. He may also have
an easement that I do not block
his only source of light by structures that I erect on my land. But he has no
right that I refrain
from building a shed on my backyard that blocks his scenic
view. If he wishes my backyard to be left vacant for his pleasure he should
offer to buy the land or an easement over it. The general public stands in the
same position. If they want me to sacrifice my use
of land for their pleasure or
benefit, it is reasonable that they pay for it. The New Zealand RMA departs from
this principle. Section
6 of the Act authorises the regulation of property use
to protect ‘outstanding natural features and landscapes from inappropriate
subdivision, use and development’ and ‘areas of significant
indigenous vegetation and significant habitats of indigenous
fauna’ and s
7 obliges authorities to have regard to ‘intrinsic values of
ecosystems’. RMA’s mandate is not
limited to the prevention of
nuisance or even to the scientifically supported conservation goals. Even so it
denies compensation
to property owners who are asked to sacrifice their
enjoyment of property for officially determined public benefits that may have
nothing to do with nuisance prevention or reasonable demands of conservation.
The duty to compensate owners for property taken for public purposes is a
principle that Lord Justice Bowen described as ‘part
and parcel of natural
justice’. (London & Northwestern Railway Co v Evans, [1892] UKLawRpCh 152; [1893] 1
CH 16 at 28) Even so, there is a rebuttable counter presumption in common law
that regulation of property use does not amount to taking.
The presumption can
be rebutted. There are judicial indications that regulation may reach such
intensity that an acquisition is the
actual result. In Trade Practices
Commission v Tooth & Co Ltd, Stephen J referred in this regard to the
‘universality of the problem sooner or later encountered wherever
constitutional
regulation of compulsory acquisition is sought to be applied to
restraints, short of actual acquisition, imposed upon the free enjoyment
of
proprietary rights.’. [1979] HCA 47; (1979) 142 CLR 397 at 415) Canadian jurisprudence
recognises that regulation can reach the point where it is a de facto
expropriation without compensation. (Alberta (Minister of Public Works and
Services) v Nilsson (2002) 220 DLR (4th) 474;
Steer Holdings Ltd v Manitoba (1993) 2 WWR 146) The European Court of
Human Rights holds a similar position. (Banér v Sweden No 11763
(1989) 60 DR 128 at 1339-1340) The critical issue is to determine the point at
which regulation becomes a taking. If it is a taking,
in the US and Australia,
the owner has a constitutional right to compensation. In New Zealand, the owner
has a common law right to
compensation unless the authorising statute has
expressly denied compensation. Thus in Smale v Takapuna Council [1930] NZGazLawRp 104; (1931)
NZLR 35, the extinguishment of a right to sea access and the use and sale of
sand and shells gave rise to a right to compensation. This question
has become
particularly important where environmental laws enacted in the presumed interest
of the community as a whole are in many
cases drastically limiting land use and
land management causing a steep decline in land value. The conceptual difficulty
concerns
the notion of taking or acquisition. Is the government taking property
when the law commands an owner to limit the use of his property?
In
Minister of State for the Army v Dalziel ((1944) [1944] HCA 4; 68 CLR 261) the Court
held that the taking of possession and use of ships for defence purposes was an
acquisition of property. In the case of
land use regulations there is no obvious
taking—only a restriction of the owner’s proprietary rights. When
the question
arose in Commonwealth v Tasmania (Tasmanian Dam Case) [1983] HCA 21; (1983)
158 CLR 1, only four of the seven judges addressed the issue, the other three
other judges finding it unnecessary having decided the case on
other issues.
Justices Mason, Murphy and Brennan thought that the restriction of land use,
though limiting Tasmania’s ownership
rights did not result in the
Commonwealth acquiring any property. Justice Deane on the contrary found that
the absence of a material
benefit for the Commonwealth did not prevent the
conclusion that there was an acquisition and determined that in such cases, the
property acquired was the benefit of the prohibition. (at 286-7) In Newcrest
Mining (WA) v Commonwealth, the majority comprising Brennan CJ, Toohey,
Gaudron, Gummow and Kirby JJ (McHugh J dissenting) found that the legislative
cancellation
of Newcrest’s rights to extract minerals under their existing
lease was an acquisition of property within the meaning of s
51(xxxi) although
the Commonwealth did not physically take any property. The cancellation of the
rights under the Conservation Amendment Act followed the extension of the
boundaries of Kakadu National Park in the Northern Territory which swallowed
part of the land leased
to Newcrest by the Crown. Section 7 of the Act stated
that ‘Notwithstanding any law of the Commonwealth or of the Northern
Territory, the Commonwealth is not liable to pay compensation to any person by
reason of the enactment of this Act’. The Act
was made under s 122 of the
Constitution that gave Parliament powers to legislate in respect of the
Territories. Newcrest claimed that the Act was unconstitutional for denying
it
just compensation as required by s 51(xxxi) of the Constitution. The claim
failed as the majority were unprepared to overrule Teori Tau that had
previously decided that s 51(xxxi) did not apply to legislation made under s
122. But all justices except McHugh J rejected the Commonwealth’s
contention that it had not acquired any property. As to the property
taken,
Chief Justice Brennan explained: ‘The property consisted not in a right to
possession or occupation of the relevant
area of land nor in the bare leasehold
interest vested in Newcrest but in the benefit of relief from the burden of
Newcrest's rights
to carry on "operations for the recovery of minerals"’.
[1997] HCA 38; (1997) 190 CLR 513 at 530 Importantly Gummow J clarified that ‘There is no
reason why the identifiable benefit or advantage relating to the ownership
or
use of property, which is acquired, should correspond precisely to that which
was taken’. (at 634; see also Kirby J at 639-40)
In Commonwealth v
Western Australia [1999] HCA 5; (1999) 196 CLR 392, the High Court considered whether
Commonwealth authority to carry out defence practice on land within the State
amounted to an acquisition
of property in the minerals reserved for the State.
The Commonwealth legislation prohibited entry into a designated defence practice
area whenever an authority was issued to conduct practices. Hence no
explorations or mining could take place at these times. The
majority held that
frequent or prolonged authorisations would conceivably amount to an acquisition
of property in the minerals but
dismissed the appeal on the ground that there
was no evidence of the frequency of the authorisations. Justices Callinan and
Kirby
on the contrary considered the frequency of authorisation to be irrelevant
and held that there was an acquisition of property. In
so deciding Justice
Callinan stated that: ‘The Declaration (made in this case) may be compared
to a restrictive covenant; if
one person (for his or her own reasons) wishes to
sterilise or restrict the usages of another person’s land, the latter, in
a free market place, would demand recompense and the former would be expected to
pay it’. (at 488) Given the disposition of
the majority to treat prolonged
deprivation of land use as a compensable taking there is a real prospect that
land use limitation,
at least in the more extreme forms, may attract the just
terms clause. Apart from authority, there is a strong logical argument that
the
restriction of land use is an acquisition. The government is taking away a
property right for its purpose. This need not be direct
material use of the
property. Take the case of land clearing limitations. In sequestering the trees,
the government is sequestering
carbon that offsets the carbon emissions by other
groups of industrialists and consumers. The government acquires the carbon
rights
to the trees that are saved by the land clearing prohibition that it then
tacitly passes on to others.
The US Supreme Court has taken the Fifth
Amendment ban on uncompensated takings much more seriously. Justice Holmes in
his much discussed
opinion in Pennsylvania Coal Co v Mahon stated:
Government hardly could go on if to some extent values incident to property could not be diminished without paying for every such change in the general law. As long recognized some values are enjoyed under an implied limitation and must yield to the police power. But obviously the implied limitation must have its limits or the contract and due process clauses are gone. One fact for consideration in determining such limits is the extent of the diminution. When it reaches a certain magnitude, in most if not in all cases there must be an exercise of eminent domain and compensation to sustain the act. [1922] USSC 193; 260 US 393, 413 (1922)
... The general rule at least is that while property may be regulated to a certain extent, if regulation goes too far it will be recognized as a taking. (at 415)
The question then is how far is too far? Epstein argues that the proper
question to ask is: ‘Would the government action be
treated as a taking of
private property if it had been performed by some private party?’
(Epstein, 1985: 36) This in my view
is a rational answer. The often made claim
that a duty to compensate for regulatory takings will prevent regulation
altogether owing
to the enormous cost of administering the law turns out to be
exaggerated. Takings within the police power are not compensable. Nor
are
regulatory takings under which property owners benefit more than they lose as
when building restrictions enhance property values
of a neighbourhood. As
Epstein points out, ‘if, in fact, the government is well organised, the
kind of large number takings
we are talking about will generate benefits to all
members of society that are equal to or greater than the actual harms
imposed’.
(Epstein, 2004: 8-9)
Under recent judicial doctrine, to avoid
the obligation to compensate, a restriction must bear an essential nexus to a
legitimate
public interest and be roughly proportionate to achieve the end. In
Lucas v South Carolina Coastal Authority 202 US 1003 (1992) the Supreme
Court struck down a construction ban on a Carolina barrier island. In Nollan
v California Coastal Commission [1987] USSC 151; 483 US 825 (1987) the Court held
unconstitutional a condition in a building permit that made the permit subject
to the grant of a public easement
over the land and in Dolan v City of
Tigard [1994] USSC 37; 512 US 687 (1994) the Court struck down a requirement that the owner
dedicate parts of the land to flood control and traffic improvements.
The
just terms clause in s 51(xxxi) of the Commonwealth Constitution is not binding
on the Australian States. However, if a State in acquiring property is acting as
the agent of the Commonwealth to
execute a Commonwealth purpose (such as
observing the Kyoto targets as a matter of foreign policy), it is conceivable
that the just
terms requirement will apply, particularly if the Commonwealth is
granting funds for this purpose under section 96 of the Constitution. (Pye v
Renshaw [1951] HCA 8; (1951) 84 CLR 58 at 83)
It is true that American and Australian
constitutional jurisprudence is not binding on New Zealand courts. However, it
is relevant
to ask of New Zealand statutes, whether they effect regulatory
takings. On this question, the US, Australian and other Commonwealth
decisions
are of great value. If the answer is affirmative, two consequences follow. The
New Zealand courts will inquire whether
the denial of compensation is expressly
authorised by Parliament. If it is not so authorised, the court will award
compensation for
the taking. If the court holds that no compensation is owed
under the statute because of clear language, the public is informed that
Parliament though acting within its sovereign power has abused that power in
violation of one of the most basic constitutional values
that sustains New
Zealand’s liberal democratic system of government.
The RMA pre-empts
claims to compensation by reason of a plan implemented under the Act. Section
85(1) states: ‘An interest in
land shall not be deemed to be taken or
injuriously affected by reason of any provision in a plan unless otherwise
provided for in
this Act’. It is an implied recognition that certain land
use limitations under the RMA can amount to takings but for s 85(1).
However for
the deeming provision to apply the plan must be lawful. A plan can be challenged
if it is likely to result in the land
being incapable of reasonable use and the
restriction places an unfair and unreasonable burden on the owner. Reasonable
use is defined
as use that has no significant environmental effects or effects
on other persons. As Wilkinson highlights, the relief that the Act
offers is the
deletion of the offending provision or rule. If a rule is struck off no question
of compensation arises as there is
no taking by that rule. But the other rules
in the plan or the plan as a whole may effect a regulatory taking but for s
85(1). Does
the language of s 85(1) unambiguously deny compensation? In
Falkner & Ors v Gisborne District Council (1995) NZRMA 462) Justice
Barker found that that the ‘Act contains no such unequivocal
intention’ but observed that the statute ‘deliberately
sets in place
a coherent scheme in which the concept of sustainable management takes priority
over private property rights’.
(p 478) His Honour contrasted the
RMA’s equivocation with the clear compensation provisions in s 19 of the
Coast Protection Act 1949 (UK) and stated:
I commend this section to those responsible for revising the Resource
Management Act as offering some resolution of the residents’
understandable concerns at the prospect of losing their homes without
compensation and without the ability to erect coastal protection
works. (p 479)
Section 185 of the RMA grants a very limited form of compensation to owners
and others having interests in lands that are made subject
to
‘designations’ and ‘requirements’. The situation arises
when properties are designated or required for
public works. In such instances
owners may apply to the Environment Court for an order obliging the requiring
authority to acquire
the land. The amount of compensation payable for an estate
or interest in land ordered to be taken is assessed ‘as if the designation
or requirement had not been created’. (s 185(7)) Despite Justice
Barker’s doubts the RMA seems to override the common
law presumption
except to the extent recognised in s 185.
Economic argument for compensation is also a constitutional
argument
There is not much argument that if the state takes property it
must pay compensation. It is possible for Parliaments such as those
of New
Zealand and the Australian States which are unconstrained by constitutional
limitations to enact laws that authorise takings
without the payment of
compensation. However, a government that systematically takes property in this
manner risks of public backlash,
particularly if the takings affect significant
sections of the population. If not it will bring democracy to a hasty end. If
the
government pays compensation at market value for all takings, it may soon be
bankrupt. Government also may not wish to acquire a
property if it means having
to bear the costs of maintaining the property in the desired state. Take the
example of a parcel of privately
owned land that the government wishes to
dedicate to the cause of biodiversity. One option is for the government to buy
the land
by negotiating with the owner and if the owner resists to acquire the
property and pay compensation. The government will then bear
the costs of
compensation and the maintenance of the land indefinitely, perhaps as a nature
reserve or national park. However, if
it wishes to convert many private lands
from agricultural, industrial or residential uses to conservation it has to find
another
way that will be cheaper and not cause widespread outrage. The ready
solution is to regulate the way the owner can use the property.
The costs of the
taking and the future maintenance of the property in the desired state of
conservation are thereby transferred to
the owner. The true cost is hidden from
the public view by the illusion that no taking has taken place and no burden has
been placed
on the property owner. The situation is analogous to a fiscal
illusion of the type that Italian economist Amilcare Puviani revealed
in his
1903 treatise. Puviani used a model of an authoritarian state where the ruling
class employs fiscal illusion to make exactions
palatable to subjects. Buchanan
argues that the theory is equally applicable within a modern democracy.
(Buchanan, 1999) An illusion
makes the state of things appear different from
what it really is. The public under fiscal illusion may accept measures even if
the
total social cost actually exceeds total social benefit. (Guerin, 2003: 5)
It is a different argument if the persons from whom property is taken are
among the direct beneficiaries from the public work that
results. In that case,
the amount of compensation can be reduced to reflect the owner’s gain.
Wilkinson’s proposition
that compensation may be denied where the costs of
identifying and assessing rights to compensation exceeds the benefits of paying
it, where benefits accrue to the same persons who bear costs and where the
taking is restricting a firm’s exercise of market
power while allowing an
investor to obtain (ex ante) the risk adjusted return of capital seems
logical. (Wilkinson, 2001: 192-193; Epstein, 1993: 203)
The denial of
compensation eliminates the discipline that the price mechanism brings to
decision making. A government that need not
compensate owners has less reason to
‘get it right’ than a government that must. One does not have to be
an economist
to know that in conditions of scarcity free goods and cheap goods
are over-consumed or over-accumulated. If regulators have no price
to pay they
are likely to regulate more. The uncoupling of power and financial
responsibility usually allows governments to seek
short term political dividends
at the expense of facts and science.
Why is this a constitutional problem as
much as it is an economic problem? Uncompensated takings where social benefits
exceed costs
epitomise arbitrary interference in the rights and liberties of the
citizen. Fiscal illusion further subverts the rule of law by
concealing the
arbitrariness of regulatory taking. It is facile to say that there is no
constitutional issue because a New Zealand
court will not invalidate a law that
clearly authorises a taking and expressly denies compensation. The extreme view
of parliamentary
sovereignty is not as fashionable as it once was. Lord Cooke of
Thorndon a major judicial critic of the notion of unbridled sovereignty
puts it
this way. ‘The question of whether Parliament is sovereign cannot receive
any affirmative now or probably ever. It
reflects a common illusion, tidy but
superficial’. (Cooke, 2005: 44. See also on this question Phillips, 2004;
and Wilkinson,
2001: 146-7)
But let us for the purpose of argument assume
the extreme view. Even the most ardent supporters of parliamentary sovereignty
will
concede that if governments use their majorities systematically to abrogate
the rights and liberties of citizens, at some point the
Constitution as we know
it will cease to exist. Their position is that majoritarian democracy is a
sufficient safeguard against such a fate. The
danger in established democracies
though is not dramatic constitutional collapse but constitutional erosion in
ways insensible to
the electorate.
In majoritarian parliamentary systems the electorate is asked to choose between policy packages presented by parties. These packages are designed strategically to appeal to a sufficient number of diverse interests that would deliver victory on the election night. The process is further complicated in New Zealand under the multi-member proportional system of election (MMP). The system frequently fails to produce a clear majority for any party. When this happens a party can form a government only by striking deals with one or more minor parties on terms that may compromise the policies and programs that it offered to the electorate in return for votes. In theory, the electorate will punish the promise breakers at the next election. The problem with this theory is that it overestimates the capacity of the electorate to audit and adjudge a government's term of office in the context of a bargaining democracy. Most governments during their terms of office disappoint the expectations of some groups and fulfil those of others. Although the record in office is an important factor, a government may still win with the aid of a new or modified coalition of interests. Coalition building happens before the election and, as in the case of MMP systems, also in the aftermath of the poll. Except when major errors or abuses are committed, elections are decided by the ongoing bidding process that allows parties to recoup lost support with new promises to the disaffected groups or to alternative groups. The accounting process is further undermined by the fact that a great deal of governmental activity cannot be monitored as it happens outside Parliament within bureaucratic structures that elude parliamentary and judicial scrutiny. These actions affect individuals who have no bargaining power at the ballot box. The electoral process has little to offer individual victims of arbitrary power. The end of constitutional government is not the maintenance of the rule of the majority but the achievement of the rule of law. The former is valued to the extent that it serves the latter. Uncompensated takings constitute a direct breach of the rule of law that majoritarian democracy has failed to restrain.
Parliamentary systems such as those based on proportional representation and mixed member proportionality (MMP) reduce the occurrence of absolute majorities and may weaken executive dominance of Parliament. So does Australia’s powerful Senate that the executive does not always control. However, these arrangements do not necessarily promote the rule of law and in fact may undermine it further because of the unprincipled bargaining that usually follow elections as parties try to form a government. A government so formed is also susceptible to political blackmail by minor parties and independents whose cooperation the government needs to stay in office.
Objections to compensation based on questionable notions of
property
The arguments against compensation for regulatory takings
generally focus on the question whether there is a taking at all and on
the
impossibility of compensating every property owner who is injuriously affected
by regulations made in the public interest. As
discussed previously judicial
opinion and economic theory unite in the view that regulation can reach the
point of taking and that
owners by right (under US and Australian federal
constitutional law or by defeasible presumption (NZ and Australian States) have
a right to just compensation. However, we must consider another line of argument
that questions the case for compensation by challenging
the traditional liberal
conception of property. The argument is that property by its very nature is
something that exists subject
to law and there is nothing unusual in limiting
its use in the public interest. Hence by implication, there is no case for
compensation
for takings authorised by law. (Barton, 2002: 19-23) In the pages
just referred Barton argues at length against the notion of legally
unrestricted
property rights. Laura Underkuffler makes a similar case against ‘the idea
of property as fixed, unyielding, bounded
and protected’. (Underkuffler,
2004) These statements reflect lazy arguments against straw figures. No serious
liberal scholar,
not even the most passionate natural rights theorist, will
argue that property ownership means rights to unconstrained use of property.
Yet, to draw from the premise that property is liable to legal regulation the
conclusion that legal takings need not be compensated
is to make a giant
unfounded leap. From the evolutionary point of view the institution of property
results from emergence of rules
of just conduct towards others. Property is
natural not in the sense of a divine inflexible right but is natural in the
sense of
an institution that is the natural consequence of persons respecting
others’ spheres of personal autonomy. As Hayek observed,
‘In our
efforts to improve the principles of demarcation we cannot but build on an
established system of rules which serves
as the basis of the going order
maintained by the institution of property ... where the boundary ought to be
drawn, however, will
not usually be a decision which can be made
arbitrarily’. (Hayek, 1982: vol 1, 109) Property is inseparable from rules
of just
conduct and property cannot be abolished without also repealing the
fundamental rules of social life. Property is inseparable from
personhood and
individual aspiration. The common law liability rules have evolved over time
shaping the content of property rights.
Common law judges have traditionally
sought to uphold legitimate expectations, not defeat them. Changes in common
law, in theory,
reflect changes in expectations. When they defeat legitimate
expectations the legislature may have to step in to provide statutory
remedies
to those who are affected retrospectively - as the Australian Parliament did
after the decision in Wik Peoples and Ors v State of Queensland and Ors
(1996) 141 ALR 12. The traditional confidence in the common law method has been
eroded in recent times by judges who arrogate to themselves the licence
to
remake the law in the manner of Plato’s philosopher kings. Yet, the
expectation remains that common law courts will not
deliberately defeat
reasonably held expectations without compensating conditions. If courts
routinely defeat these expectations they
will surely and rapidly lose public
confidence upon which their political authority ultimately rests.
The
question is not whether property use can be limited (as Barton suggests) but
what principles should guide limitations. Barton
makes the extraordinary
statement that though economic forces are useful tools in addressing
environmental problems ‘our judgment
about how to reach that end should
not be clouded by an excessively high presumption that economic forces are to be
preferred ...
If regulation has a better chance of producing the results that we
as a community need, then we should be willing to use it even
if no economic
rationale can be produced’. (Barton, 2002: 17) The idea that we have a
choice of accepting or not accepting
economic forces is quite staggering but it
is all too prevalent in the discussion of social policy. Whether we adopt
laissez faire,
command and control or mixed strategies, we cannot eliminate
economic forces. Perhaps Barton meant to say that CAC should be preferred
where
it proves more efficient than MBI. Most economists would agree. If CAC is more
efficient, it provides its own economic rationale.
But how do we find out
whether CAC works better if we disregard costs and benefits and otherwise banish
economic considerations.
Barton does not give us an answer.
Institutions, good governance, good science
Economic science since
Adam Smith has paid attention to the role of institutions in helping individuals
and societies to achieve their
desired ends. Institutions in the economic sense
include all the formal and informal constraints that give structure to social
life.
Institutions range from constitutional rules, statutory provisions and
common law, to the more informal constraints of custom, culture
and morality.
(North, 1990: 3) Institutions are not independent and self-sustaining but exist
as parts of a complex web of interacting
constraints. Constitutional rules work
when they are supported by numerous other constraints including those of legal
culture and
political morality. This is the reason why the constitution works
reasonably well in New Zealand and operates dismally in Zimbabwe.
Institutions
help us cope with the uncertainties of a world of imperfect information and
emergent complexity.
The role of institutions in economic performance is now
widely appreciated but their importance in matters of science has not been
widely discussed.
We admire science for its culture of dispassionate
inquiry, scepticism, theory construction and rigorous testing. The strengths of
science owe much to the institutions of scientific communities comprising the
legal, moral and cultural norms that promote openness,
objectivity, competition
and constant review. No science is perfectly objective or exact but historically
the natural sciences have
insulated their methodologies from emotive debate
better than other disciplines although not without its own struggles. But
scientists
are not angels and their institutions are not invulnerable. It is
said that science and politics do not mix well. Politics tend to
intrude on
science when political decisions depend heavily on scientific theories and
findings. Environmental law and policy are
no exception. The integrity of
science is apt to be compromised at two levels. First, it can be compromised at
the level of investigation
by bias that is hard to suppress when findings have
direct consequences for social policy. Second, and more commonly, science can
be
compromised by policy makers through misunderstanding or misuse of scientific
knowledge.
Where public policy must be informed by good science, disregard
of the important safeguards of due process can produce distortions.
The first
requirement of due process is hearing all sides of a dispute. There is danger
that in environmental policy making this
may not always be happening. The
economic side of the story often gets neglected. There is a danger that even on
the science, not
all views will be equally heard. The House of Lords Select
Committee on Economic Affairs in its Report on the Economics of Climate
Change expressed three major concerns about the IPCC process. One is the
concern about the way experts were chosen to do the work. The Committee
reported:
... It seems to us that there remains a risk that IPCC has become a ‘knowledge monopoly’ in some respects, unwilling to listen to those who do not pursue the consensus line. ... We are concerned that there may be political interference in the nomination of scientists whose credentials should rest solely with their scientific qualifications.’ (House of Lords, 2005: 58)
A second concern arose from the apparent downgrading in the 2001 Report of the economic dimension. The Committee observed: ‘At the moment, it seems to us that the emissions scenarios are influenced by political considerations and, more broadly, that the economics input into the IPCC is in some danger of being sidelined’. (at 59) A third concern was in regard to the preparation of ‘policy-makers summaries’ of the technical chapters. The summaries are drafted by the experts who write chapters but they require line by line approval of government representatives. The Committee had this to say:
We can see no justification for this procedure. Indeed, it strikes us as opening the way for climate science and economics to be determined, at least in part, by political requirements rather than by evidence. Sound science cannot emerge from an unsound process. (at 57)
The dismissal or neglect of regard to alternative scientific views and
neglect of cost-benefit considerations seems common in many
jurisdictions
including those of Australia and New Zealand. The 2004 Report on Impacts of
Native Vegetation and Biodiversity Regulations produced by the Productivity
Commission in Australia highlighted the following serious defects in the current
regulatory systems.
.
(Productivity Commission, 2004: XLVII)
Part 3
RMA – THE WRONG WAY
Apart from the question of compensation which I have discussed previously, the RMA has drawn persistent criticisms from lawyers, economists, academics and industry representatives with respect to the planning and consent processes. (Fisher, 2003; Kerr, 2002, Joseph, 2003; Kerr, 2002, Sharpe, 2002; Guerin, 2002) The complaints cluster around two basic problems. One is the vagueness of criteria that apply to planning and consent decisions. The other relates to the delays and distortions that the RMA procedures admit. I will add my thoughts on the latter problem before turning to the more fundamental question of legal uncertainty.
RMA and procedural law: dangerous departures
The RMA radically
departs from the common law procedural model. There are three principal types of
decisions that occur under the
Act: legislative acts at national level
(including the setting of environmental standards and polices), planning and
rule making
at regional and district level and decisions on consent
applications. It is necessary to have wide public consultation at the
legislative
end of the regulatory system. It is another matter entirely when
decisions are made at the judicial or quasi judicial end of the
process which is
where consent applications are determined.
The common law system of
adjudication has been honed by experience and provides important safeguards of
procedural and substantive
justice. It is not perfect and it displays its share
of contradictions, irrationalities and inefficiencies. Yet, core principles
of
the system are hardly disputable. The requirement of standing and the rules
concerning the burden of proof, costs and vexatious
litigation grew out of the
demands of natural justice. So did the rules of evidence. They apply equally in
private law and public
law. Under common law rules of standing, a citizen can
sue or intervene in an action to vindicate a private right – that is,
a
right that the person has over and above the right that every member of the
public has. (Australian Conservation Foundation v Commonwealth (ACF Case)
[1980] HCA 53; (1979) 146 CLR 493, 526-7) In the past, an action to vindicate a public right
had to be prosecuted by the Attorney-General or by a citizen granted special
standing by the Attorney-General’s fiat. More recently, the House of Lords
has indicated that a citizen who shows a prima facie
case or reasonable grounds
for believing that there has been a failure of public duty should be given leave
to invoke the supervisory
jurisdiction of the superior courts. (Inland
Revenue Commissioners v National Federation of Self-Employed and Small Business
Ltd [1981] UKHL 2; [1982] AC 617 at 641) New Zealand courts have embraced this principle
which is hard to question. However under the RMA, busybodies, vexatious
litigants
and political activists have unlimited licence to intervene in consent
proceedings without the need to show that the tribunal has
acted in breach of a
public duty. The liability to pay costs discourages persons from commencing or
intervening in a case without
reasonable cause. These are not trivial
precautions but basic safeguards of natural justice. The basic interest served
by the rules
of natural justice and procedural fairness is to give a fair and
unbiased hearing to persons whose rights are affected by a proposed
determination. Where a judicial or quasi judicial hearing becomes a ‘free
for all contest’ persons whose rights are affected
have less notice of the
case they have to answer and less opportunity to make their own case. At the
same time, it increases scope
for opportunistic intervention by others sometimes
on questionable motives. Objectors may be motivated by the ‘not in my
backyard
syndrome’ that does not always produce good environmental
outcomes or by commercial opportunism. It is worth noting that in
reality
decisions on consent applications are often made by the elected politicians who
are strongly influenced by constituency opinion.
By some estimates, resource
consent proceedings on average take 24 months from the date of application to
final court decision. (Fisher,
2003: 5) More recent estimates suggest that the
average has been reduced to 15 months, a significant though insufficient
improvement.
Roger Kerr observes:
Newspapers have documented many cases over the years of absurd and
anti-competitive, opportunistic or near-extortionate behaviour
resulting from
the RMA. A December 2001 report for the Business Roundtable catalogued over two
dozen such cases. One supermarket
project in Auckland has now been held up for
12 years. The RMA is unquestionably a deterrent to investment in New Zealand and
thereby
economic development and prosperity. It was identified as a major
problem in last year’s ministerial review of business compliance
costs’. (Kerr, 2002: 6)
RMA and substantive law: command and
control and the fusion of law and policy
The most fundamental defect of
the RMA concerns the legal uncertainties that result from the command and
control system that it installs.
Joseph, Kerr, Sharpe, Wilkinson, Guerin, Fisher
and others have made important contributions in highlighting the constitutional
implications
and economic costs of the system. In his ground breaking work,
Rules and Order (republished as the first volume of Law, Legislation
and Liberty), F A Hayek, drew attention to the long neglected distinction
between two types of order that figure in the social universe. They
are
spontaneous order known in classical Greek thinking as cosmos and made
order or organisation known taxis. (Hayek, 1982) Spontaneous order is
dynamic, non-linear and emergent. They are adaptive systems that change through
endogenous pressures
generated by individual elements adjusting their behaviour
to local conditions. Reliance on spontaneous order (subject to judicious
interventions) is appropriate when we do not have complete command of relevant
knowledge as regards ends and means. Organisations
and organisational methods
are appropriate when we have specific ends to achieve and we have the requisite
knowledge and control
of resources to pursue these ends. Command and control
systems are essentially organisational systems. In the real world, social
systems are neither purely spontaneous nor wholly organised. There are designed
elements in spontaneous systems such as language,
morals and markets. In fact
spontaneous order in human affairs is never free from design inputs. Likewise
spontaneous features are
inevitable in the behaviour of organisations. Just
consider the emergence of internal cultures within government departments and
large corporations. Even so, it is important to know when and to what extent we
should employ organisational methods and when to
allow the dynamism of
spontaneous order to provide solutions to human problems. The environment is a
complex system of which human
habitation is an integral part. Current
environmental policy and law in New Zealand (as in most other countries) are
founded on a
conception of the environment as a condition that is malleable to
human design. I do not argue that we should leave matters concerning
the
environment solely to the people’s good sense and chance. I do not say
that there is nothing we can do to improve or protect
the environment. As
discussed previously there is much that the common law has done to limit
environmental harm. Legislation can
and should strengthen and supplement the
evolved framework of rules to take account of environmental threats. The problem
with the
RMA is that it imposes a command and control system which takes little
account of the complex and evolutionary nature of the environment
and hence
reduces the potential for endogenous solutions to emerge. The whole system is
premised on the unarticulated assumption
that the minister aided by advisory
committees and regional and district planners possess sufficient knowledge to
manage the environment
through resource allocations and control of specific
human activities. It is the kind of synoptic delusion that Hayek attributed
to
central planners.
An effective environmental strategy must address two
challenges. It should aim to reduce depletion of scarce environmental resources
and should seek to limit externalities that result from human activity. Market
processes based on property rights and the law of
contract have proved superior
to CAC as mechanisms for the efficient allocation of scarce resources. The law
of tort supplemented
by statutory rules have been the traditional means of
dealing with externalities. There may be good reason to modify these
institutional
settings in some circumstances. Market processes, for example,
cannot work without a framework of legal rights and duties. With respect
to
environmental resources such as water and air, markets may not work without a
regime of property rights and trading rules. Such
a regime may have to be
constructively developed if it has not spontaneously emerged. As regards
externalities, the liability rules
may have to be strengthened and remedies
adapted to new realities. However, it is common sense that we must not abandon
proven institutional
arrangements without compelling reasons. Hence it is
reasonable to expect the government to do the following.
How does the NZ Resource Management Act measure against these
standards? The RMA departs radically from the common law approach to
establish
a command and control (CAC) system for resource management. The evolving but
predictable rules of conduct under common
law are replaced by a control system
that is a mixture of indeterminate rules, discretions, overarching policies and
unstable judicial
law generated by breadth of discretion bestowed on the court.
The RMA leaves little room for market based initiatives. The minister’s
functions under the Act include: ‘The consideration and investigation of
the use of economic instruments (including charges,
levies, other fiscal
measures, and incentives) to achieve the purpose of this Act.’ (s 24 (h))
Section 32 (3) requires the
minister and other authorities to evaluate
‘(a) the extent to which each objective is the most appropriate way to
achieve the
purpose of [the] Act, and (b) whether, having regard to their
efficiency and effectiveness, the policies, rules, or other methods
are the most
appropriate for achieving the objectives’. These provisions are simply
directive principles that do not establish
a legal framework for MBI to be used
for generating environmental services. Section 134 precludes tradable land use
consents by attaching
them to land, hence limiting transfer only to successors
in title or occupation. Hence it leaves no room for trading in emission
or
pollution rights. Sections 135, 136 and 137 limit the transfer of coastal
rights, water rights and discharge rights to persons
other than owners and
occupiers unless expressly allowed by the regional plan or a consent authority.
In the case of water consumption,
the transfer is allowed only within the
catchment area and in the case of air pollution only within the same air-shed or
region.
Markets develop only where traders have secure rights in the things
traded and there are clear rules of the marketplace. A system
of discretionary
plans and consents creates an unlikely setting for MBI to be used in the service
of environmental protection. Sharpe
observes that the use of MBI, even within
the severe constraints of the RMA, is further impeded by the CAC culture
prevailing within
regional government. (Sharpe, 2002: 57)
There are many law
making authorities under the RMA but Parliament is not the principal source of
law. The Act designates law making,
discretion wielding and adjudicating
authorities, defines their powers in the broadest possible terms and establishes
a system of
penalties for violating the Act and the commands made under it. The
powers are extremely broad and guided only by vague aspirational
statements. The
RMA sets out a truly amazing smorgasbord of legislative purposes in ss 5, 6 7
and 8. They concern sustainable management,
a list of matters of national
importance, other matters including ‘intrinsic value of ecosystems’
and the principles
of the Treaty of Waitangi. The provisions are striking in two
respects. First, they expand rather than constrain legislative discretion.
This
empowerment deepens the constitutional problem given that it is the
Governor-General in Council, the minister and the local
councils and not
Parliament that makes the law under the RMA, Second, the purposes of the Act
stretch well beyond sustainable management
howsoever that concept is understood.
The notion of ‘intrinsic value of ecosystems’ invites subjective and
utopian judgments
to be made on what is to be preserved and in what form to
preserve them.
The competence to set national environmental standards and to
determine national policy statements confers on the minister enormous
discretionary power over resources, industry and economic activity. In fact
‘national environmental standards’ (NES)
is a misnomer as they not
only allow the minister to set standards but also to intervene in specific
activities and even to make
orders directed at specified individuals or firms.
(S 43A (1)) NES may prohibit or limit activities conducted by individuals and
may allow activities otherwise prohibited by regional or district rules. The
various policy statements at national and regional level
are actually statutory
instruments that have controlling force over regional and district plans and
rules. (Ss 67(3), 75(3)) The
rules themselves have the force of regulations (s
68(2)). The regulations, policies and rules do not have to be approved by
Parliament
and there is no evidence that the Regulation Review Committee has
paid any particular attention to the subordinate legislation made
under the RMA.
Under Standing Order 378(2), the RRC must draw regulations to the attention of
Parliament when they, inter alia, ‘trespass unduly on rights and
liberties’ or ‘contain matters more appropriate for parliamentary
enactment’.
Such processes are futile as the parent Act (the RMA)
authorises the makers of regulations, policies and rules to do exactly that
– trespass on rights and liberties and usurp the role pf Parliament. The
2005 amendments granted the minister additional powers
to dictate the actual
content of regional and district plans. (S 25A)
The RMA devolves on the
executive branch at the central, regional and district levels the powers to
determine matters of national
policy and to make law that intrudes on
fundamental rights and liberties. In a law governed democracy such weighty
questions should
be left to the judgment of the national legislature. The RMA
confers precisely the kind of delegation of power that provoked Lord
Hewart of
Bury, Lord Chief Justice in 1929 to publish his sensational essay, The New
Despotism. The Donoughmore Committee on Ministers’ Powers appointed to
investigate Lord Hewart’s concerns endorsed the unwritten
rule of
parliamentary democracy that Parliament must not delegate wide law-making
authority to the executive, particularly authority
to determine the policy and
principle of the law. (UK Parliament, 1932: 30-1) This constitutional principle
was overwhelmed by the
tide of executive law making that accompanied the
construction of the modern welfare state. However, the principle of constrained
delegation has seen a strong revival in countries such as Australia and New
Zealand. In Australia, State and Commonwealth governments
have enacted special
Acts for the making of subordinate legislation and in New Zealand the concern
with unrestrained executive law
making motivated the establishment of the the
Regulation Review Committee under Standing Orders of Parliament and the
enactment of
the Regulations (Disallowance Act) 1989 (NZ).
Notwithstanding these reforms, it is hard to find a statutory scheme that
devolves law and policy making on the scale effected
by the RMA. The act places
agriculture, industry, property development and private land use within the
reach of the vast powers of
the minister and the regional and district councils.
National policy statements follow public consultative processes specified
in ss 47 to 52 (engaging the service of a board of inquiry)
or a similar process
devised by the minister. These are useful devices but they fall way short of the
political check that parliamentary
scrutiny provides. Sound policy making
requires reliable fact finding, identification of strategic choices and
evaluation of the
costs and benefits of available options. Boards of inquiry may
be helpful in these respects but the power to convert policy into
law must
remain with Parliament if the principle of representative government is not to
be compromised. The RMA grants the minister
the power to bypass Parliament in
making law under the guise of policy formulation. The policy statements under
the Act are in fact
legislative instruments.
The importance of the
distinction between law and policy for the rule of law needs stressing. Policy
underlies all statute law. However,
in the common law constitutional tradition
once the law is made policy recedes to the background to be summoned by courts
only on
rare occasions when it can be of assistance in interpreting ambiguous
provisions of a statute. This is a principle of statutory construction
has an
important role in maintaining the rule of law. It promotes clarity and certainty
of the law and upholds the supremacy of the
legislature in matters of law. The
RMA defeats this constitutional principle by elevating policy statements to the
status of superior
norms. This is reminiscent of the communist states where law
and policy were undifferentiated and political committees were final
arbiters of
people’s rights. Currently, there is only one national policy statement,
the New Zealand Coastal Policy Statement.
However, others are being prepared
including statements on ‘the protection of rare and depleted indigenous
vegetation, electricity
transmission and electricity generation’.
(Ministry for the Environment, 2005) These policy statements are likely to
extend
and strengthen the command and control regime of environmental regulation
and accelerate the erosion of the rule of law in New Zealand.
Conclusion
The RMA stays true to its title by making provision for
a system of micro-management of the environment. Human habitation and human
activities are aspects of the environment. The RMA therefore is also a system of
management of human affairs. There is an inevitable
tension between managerial
methods and governance according to law. Management requires command and control
and ad hoc intervention.
Governance according to law is very different. As Locke
observed, government under law is government ‘by established standing
laws
promulgated and known to the people and not [government] by extemporary
decrees’. Qualities such as generality, constancy
and publicity that
Fuller identified with the inner morality of law are not necessary attributes of
good management but they are
essential for the rule of law. The RMA’s
grant of virtually unconstrained discretionary power to the executive represents
a
calculated departure from the rule of law standard and the principle of
parliamentary democracy in favour of command and control.
The problem is that
the care of the environment is not like the prosecution of a military campaign.
The challenge of identifying
and responding to environmental problems requires
much more knowledge than is available to a ministerial commander in chief, even
one aided by committees and local councils. The requisite knowledge is harnessed
more effectively by allowing individuals to go about
their lives within a
framework of clear and fair rules.
The law in liberal societies has
traditionally been concerned with the prevention of harm to persons. The law
prohibits damage to
things only when damage harms persons. In the absence or
serious risk of harm there is no moral justification to limit the freedom
of
people. This is essentially John Stuart Mill’s ‘harm
principle’. Liberal democratic societies entrust the assessment
of harm
and risk to democratic legislatures and independent courts guided by objective
standards. The RMA fails the people of New
Zealand by removing this cardinal
function to an inherently arbitrary system of environmental management.
Acknowledgements
This paper was first presented on 28 June 2006 at
the Conference of the Annual Meeting of the Law and Economics Association of New
Zealand (LEANZ). Most of the work on this paper was done during a fellowship at
the International Centre for Economic Research (ICER)
in Turin, Italy. I thank
ICER and its Director Professor Enrico Colombatto for their generosity and
support for this research. I
gratefully acknowledge a grant made by Property
Rights Australia to support my research in environmental law and policy. I am
indebted
to Alan Dormer, Stephen Franks, Jack Hodder, Professor Phillip Joseph,
Roger Kerr, Jennifer Marohasy, Bernard Robertson and Bryce
Wilkinson, for their
valuable comments and encouragement in the preparation of this paper.
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