The great thing about Philosophy of Law is that we get to
discuss wacky hypothetical situations in order to clarify what we are actually
talking about (or trying to talk about). This week, we found ourselves
discussing demon-possessed dry-erase markers, anarchic salad, and how you can’t
sue a meteorite that falls on you (courts don’t have jurisdiction for that).
The main topic of our class thus far has been philosophical
anarchy, the idea that there is no moral obligation to obey the law. (This is
not the same thing as the political anarchy, which is refusing to obey the law.
) A philosophical anarchist may still obey the law for a multitude of reasons,
he just doesn’t accept any moral obligation in that regard. In our last class,
one of my colleagues presented an extreme anarchist position; this led my
professor to suggest that perhaps he’d done too good of a job on the
philosophical anarchist arguments.
The other philosophical alleys we sometimes get stuck in are
meta-ethical problems. My professor occasionally has to remind us that we have
to accept some basic ideas (that there is such a thing as morality, for
example) in order to have a meaningful discussion about legal philosophy. When
we start heading toward meta-ethical questions, he quickly redirects the
discussion.
My Admin Law professor recently used a more straightforward approach
to instruction. We were discussing due process of law and a Supreme Court case about
corporal punishment in schools. He asked whether we thought corporal punishment
was a silly topic for the Supreme Court to address. When some students said
yes, he pulled out his very own wooden paddle and started rolling up his
sleeves. His paddle is the same size as the one that was at issue in the case, surprisingly
large and heavy. Unlike the original, however, my professor’s paddle is
decorated in W&M yellow and green and says “Due Process” on it. (After
seeing his paddle, we conceded that there could be valid reasons for the Supreme Court to address
scholastic corporal punishment.)
During the next class, my professor told us he’s always sad
he only gets to use his paddle once a year, so he displayed it a second time for
our enjoyment and edification.
Meanwhile in Privacy Law, I can’t help feeling a little
sorry for the plaintiffs in the cases we
read. They brought lawsuits, after all, to protect their privacy; and now
hundreds or thousands of law students are reading those cases and the very
details they sought to protect. Call it a meta-privacy law problem.
Outside of school, I allowed myself the nice distraction of watching
Hamlet one evening. This put me on a bit of a Shakespeare kick and
I later watched Much Ado About Nothing
(while cleaning my apartment in order to feel productive). It was refreshing to
do something literary instead of legal.
Williamsburg also had a taste of the recent big northeast storm,
though it was less boisterous in this part of the state than it was up north. Here,
the snow turned to sleet then back to snow, leaving a thick crust of ice-snow
on everything. I didn’t shovel off the driveway so much as an ad hoc ice rink.
It was a weekend storm, so we didn’t get a whole snow day,
but the college did cancel Monday morning classes. Since then, the temperature has jumped
above sixty degrees, the snow and ice has mostly melted, and I’ve been left
free to ponder meta-legal problems, Shakespeare, and the due process implications
of large wooden paddles.
