Devika Hovell’s article is a very welcome and useful contribution to the debate regarding the “accountability” (whatever the term may mean) of international organizations, and the United Nations in particular. The author argues that scholarship has tended to focus on (descriptive) state practice to the detriment of (normative) theoretical appeal, and so the relevant discussion “has received inadequate theoretical attention.” In response, she sets out to tell the story of the United Nations being held to account through a highly theorized (and, if I may venture even at the outset, perhaps a bit stylized) scheme of contrasting “instrumentalist,” “dignitarian,” and “public interest” approaches to due process. This she applies to two case studies, one regarding targeted sanctions imposed by the UN Security Council, mainly in the context of antiterrorism; and one regarding the cholera outbreak in Haiti, where the United Nations has been implicated. Hovell critiques both the instrumentalist and dignitarian approaches, which correspond in broad terms to legal action at the international, and the domestic/regional level, respectively, and argues in favor of a “public interest” approach as better reflecting a “value-based” due process.

Devika Hovell has provided an excellent call to arms for academics to move beyond the question of whether the United Nations has due process deficiencies: By now we all know that it does. She invites us to focus instead on making “the normative case for adopting due process safeguards in UN decision making,” insisting that until now scholars have failed to ask the important theoretical questions underpinning their policy research. Hovell uses two case studies to demonstrate why resort to judicial mechanisms ought not to be the answer when seeking to find ways to ensure due process. She first focuses on targeted sanctions and then turns attention to cholera in Haiti.

Devika Hovell raises deeply significant questions about the role of due process in the legitimacy of the United Nations Security Council (UNSC). Hovell gives us a fine-grained analysis of what exactly makes due process so compelling; in her approach, the reasons why it is compelling will vary in different contexts, depending upon the particular value and function it serves. In particular, she discusses three ways of articulating the values underlying due process, and the models of due process that would follow from each. She then discusses how her analysis would play out in two situations: The Council’s use of asset freezes, and the role of the UN in the cholera epidemic in Haiti. In her case studies, she looks at situations where due process has been insufficient, and discusses some of the UN’s attempts to remedy this, and the organizational difficulties in doing so.

Law abhors a vacuum. Lawyers (including international lawyers) have constructed their profession around the fiction that such a thing is impossible. Where gaps emerge in a legal framework, lawyers face the task of filling it, compromised by the additional hurdle of having to pretend there was no gap in the first place.

The challenge has intensified with the ever-widening and deepening accountability gap that has accompanied the growth of global governance. In the period between H.G. Wells’ writing of The New World Order and the drafting of Security Council resolutions 827, 1267, 1373, and 1540, global governance has evolved from an idea of utopian/dystopian fiction to reality. In a recent article in the American Journal of International Law on “Due Process in the United Nations,” I argue that as legal academics we are justified in taking a more architectural role in proposing a legal framework to fill the good-governance-size hole in this emerging tier of governance. Essayists in the AJIL Unbound Symposium convened in response to my article raised interesting (and fairly fundamental) challenges to the methodology proposed. The hosts of the symposium kindly offered me the chance to respond—I took them up. There may be gaps in international law, but never silences.