Wittgenstein wrote nothing on legal theory or law, so there is no obvious textual basis on which to draw possible connections between Wittgenstein and legal theory. And Wittgenstein abhorred theorizing in philosophy. So the odds are slim that Wittgenstein would have accommodated himself or his work to similar activity in the law. Where does this leave us?

At sea, which is where we normally are in life and, thus, where Wittgenstein wants us to recognize ourselves as being when doing philosophy too. But theory can disguise this fact from us, as it also can make us think that we have unrivalled powers of knowledge and understanding and explanation. Wittgenstein’s criticism of theory, or the activity of theorizing, is meant to get us to see, and to acknowledge, our limits in this respect. But even though his terms and intent are mostly negative in tone and thrust, his criticism of theorizing has positive implications for how we should try to understand what we are doing and what we have done, including what we are doing and have done in the law. So, if understanding the law better is something that legal theory does or tries to do, and Wittgenstein’s later work can help us understand the law better, then Wittgenstein’s later philosophy is connected to the task set legal theory.

Wittgenstein seeks to inoculate us against the lure of metaphors. The conundrums of philosophy are, he implies, often the misbegotten offspring of abused metaphors. How many rooms are needed to house the “furniture of our mind”? With what key do others gain access to my “private” thoughts and feelings?

Jurisprudence has its own syllabus of philosophical puzzles. One of the hardiest is the issue of judicial license and judicial standards. This issue has special fascination for American legal theorists because of the pivotal role played by the Supreme Court in exercising the power of judicial review by interpreting the Constitution. American theorists have taken for granted, and other theorists have seemed to acquiesce in this assumption, that to understand the nature of law is to understand how appellate judges find and/or make law.

Of all the various aspects of legal positivism, it is those bearing upon a theory of adjudication which have prompted its critics’ fiercest attacks. Legal positivism is taken to be committed to the thesis that a distinction exists between (so called) ‘easy’ cases—where the law can be identified and applied straightforwardly—and ‘hard’ cases—where the issue is not determined by the existing legal standards. Most critics are united in their rejection of this dichotomy, but divided by the two main routes they follow. The more familiar one, first outlined by Professor R.M. Dworkin, sets out to deny that hard cases are not regulated by legal standards. The other objection, and the one I wish to consider here, strives to show that the distinction itself is illusory since in all relevant respects, there are no easy cases as the positivist presumes.

The interest of political theory in the acceptance of law is obvious. If one believes that a regime is legitimate only if it governs with the consent of the governed, then the notion of acceptance is deeply linked with the notion of legitimacy, a fundamental concern of political theory. The interest of legal theory in the notion of acceptance is less obvious. I construe it to arise in the following way. One central tradition in legal theory is that of positivistic or content-independent theories of law. Positivism, crudely speaking, is characterized by some form of the Separation Thesis—that the existence of law is one thing and its merit or demerit another. But if it is important for positivistic legal theory to mark the separation of law and the merits of law, then it must also be important to mark the separation between law and the acceptance of law. The existence of law must be one thing and its acceptance as meritorious another. In deference to the separation of existence and merit, positivism tries to find a content-independent account of the validity of law. Equally, in deference to the separation of law and acceptance, positivism tries to find a content-independent account of the acceptance of law. The topic of this paper is whether the separation of law and the acceptance of law is possible. I shall try to suggest, in service of a non-positivistic or content-dependent approach to law, that this separation is not possible. I will attempt to argue on the basis of points which legal positivism itself has acknowledged to form valid constraints on any theory of acceptance. My ambitious thesis is that positivism has presented us with the reasons for rejecting it. Even if that thesis is not made out, I have a less ambitious thesis which I am confident of securing, that the demand for an account of law which permits law to be accepted ‘for any reason whatever’ is not a theoryneutral demand which might decide between positivism and natural law theory. Rather, it is an expression of a prior commitment to positivism. It is the familiar demand of natural law theory that the convergence of attitudes towards law which makes for acceptance of law must be a convergence for the right kind of reasons; ones that have to do with the value of law.

Wittgenstein’s writings on “rule-following” remain an important—and sharply contested—part of his later thought. The reference to “rules” in those writings was both broader and more basic than the use of that term in most discussions of practical reasoning or legal theory. Wittgenstein’s use of “rule” refers to all normative constraints which apply over an indefinite variety of cases, to practices where our actions might be said to be guided, to situations where characterizing actions as “correct” or “incorrect” makes sense. However, “[h]e aimed not to write a book on rules but to examine specific problems arising out of insights into the normative nature of a language, of logic and of reasoning.” He focused in particular on normative practices that on the surface do not seem troubling or difficult to understand: for example, using a word correctly, understanding a signpost, and continuing a simple mathematical series. In such examples, the interesting question is not whether a particular response or continuation is right or wrong; Wittgenstein specifically chose examples where there would be consensus on that issue. Wittgenstein’s question is what is it about the rule or about ourselves which makes our responses right or wrong (or which justifies us in reaching that evaluation)?

When Legal Realism first appeared in American jurisprudential thought in the 1920’s and early 1930’s, it was frequently misunderstood as an attack on the integrity and truthfulness of the American judiciary. After all, wasn’t it a central tenet of Legal Realism that judges did not decide cases by applying preexisting and authoritative legal rules, but merely decided cases in whichever way they thought was best? Such considerations led to the derogatory restatement of the Realist position as holding that the law is determined by “whatever the judge ate for breakfast”.

It is not transparently obvious why legal theorists are increasingly attracted to the ideas and methods of Ludwig Wittgenstein. After all, Wittgenstein’s writings are notoriously difficult and he said almost nothing, and certainly nothing sustained, about law. And why would self-proclaimed legal theorists be attracted to someone who was quite explicitly hostile to “theory”, who viewed philosophy as a sort of therapy, and who said, famously, “philosophy leaves everything as it is”? But a still more interesting question is, why has Wittgenstein received such curious and conflicting treatment at the hands of the critical legal theorists? On the one hand critical legal theory celebrates Wittgenstein’s work as a key to the dismantling of traditional jurisprudence, but on the other hand critical scholars bemoan his alleged debilitating endorsement of the status quo. It is this last question upon which this essay is focussed.

Legal theorists have become increasingly interested in whether or to what extent the later writings of Wittgenstein support scepticism about the possibility of rational objectivity or determinacy in legal reasoning and discourse. Some critical legal theorists have explicitly relied upon Wittgensteinian arguments to support arguments for radical scepticism. More recently, anti-sceptical theorists have argued that reliance by critical theorists upon Wittgensteinian arguments involves a serious misinterpretation. I shall in this essay add my voice to those already making this argument.

Sparked by books by Saul Kripke and Crispin Wright, the last several years have seen a renewal of interest in Wittgenstein’s remarks on rules. A large part of the contemporary discussion centers on what it is to follow a rule, how it is that human beings come to follow them, and what facts, mental or otherwise, determine or explain why some but not other logically equivalent extensions of a rule are deemed to constitute a following of the rule.