Editorial

Welcome to the first issue of Legal Ethics under a new editorial team. The new article editors are Dr Trevor Clark of the University of Leeds and Professor Scott Cummings of UCLA. This issue has taken a little longer to come out as we are all new to the journal and to its editorial management system, which, of course, is steeped in its own traditional culture. As good socio-legal scholars, we are using our anthropological skills to learn its folkways and customs; this takes time.

I would like to thank Professor Lisa Webley for her wonderful efforts in steering the journal, as General Editor, through the past several years and the pandemic (as well as leading the University of Birmingham Law School during that period). Remarkable feats. Her editorial expertise has enabled me and my article editors to inherit a flourishing journal. I will add by way of preview that in one of our upcoming special issues, Lisa has written a fascinating article analysing the past 25 years of Legal Ethics. I will flag it when it is published as it will give us great insights into the history of the journal.

Before I introduce the articles in this issue, I have a few comments on the journal process. These include the review process itself and the use of artificial intelligence (AI) in paper writing and reviewing.

Firstly, I would like to say something about the review process as it often appears opaque. One submits a paper and it disappears into a black hole, it seems. As you are aware, the demands for publication are rising rapidly. This has led to the rise of predatory journals designed to raise money and lower standards. Such leads to intellectual dishonesty and the diminution of standards. Another aspect of the increasing demand for publication is the greater call for and demands on reviewers. Reviewers are not paid; it is a form of institutional civic duty. You want to publish; therefore, your work must be reviewed, so when the reciprocal call is made for you to review an article, we hope you will step up and not ignore the request. I know it's hard and demanding in a world of greater teaching and research burdens and sometimes reviews are forgotten and sidelined but this is our currency, this is how we disseminate our knowledge.

The Legal Ethics process is for the general editor to make an initial decision on a submitted paper. It may be rejected because it is outside the scope of the journal, but I will suggest alternative outlets. More usually, it will be assigned to either myself or one of the article editors depending on subject fit. The paper is then sent blind to two reviewers with a given time frame for their response, but as Harold Macmillan, the former British prime minister, remarked, ‘Events, dear boy, events.’ Very occasionally, we will have to find an alternative reviewer to fill a gap. So, the review time is elastic to an extent. On receipt of the reviews, we send their comments with a proposed recommendation on possible publication. Authors are asked to respond with a new draft and a separate document detailing their answers to the reviewers’ queries. If the reviewers are satisfied with the revisions, we can move to acceptance and publication. If the reviewers completely disagree, then we may have to ask a third reviewer. In addition, if we are not satisfied with the revisions, we may ask authors to undertake another revision, which can lead to acceptance. We want to publish the best articles so be prepared for more than one revision although one revision we would like to remain the norm. All of this means we can't always control the time taken in the review process. I hope this clarifies the procedure for prospective authors. If you have views, criticisms, or comments, don't hesitate to contact me.

The topic of AI has rapidly overtaken us in dramatic ways. A recent Princeton study of occupations affected by large language models or generative AI predicted the most affected group would be the legal profession – and not just paralegals but partners – while the other highly affected cluster is university professors. Neither bodes well for us. We know people are using AI to write articles and it can be hard to detect. Of course, ‘hallucinations’ are a common tell of an AI-generated paper. Legal Ethics will not accept AI-written papers unless there is a prior discussion with the general editor and compelling reasons are given. However, AI is undoubtedly used in research and editing and that's acceptable. We have to rely on the honour system that authors won't use AI.

One other aspect of AI is its increased use by reviewers not only for papers but also for research grant applications. The Australian Research Council explicitly forbids its use. I don't support the use of AI for reviewing. We want your expertise which is why we have reached out to you as the choice of reviewer. We don't want a bland, homogenised mix that will probably say little of interest. There is also the breach of privacy involved. Every time a paper is submitted to AI, it becomes part of the training data set. We do not grant permission for this. This is an emerging field and there will doubtless be changes and developments and I hope we keep abreast of them.

Turning to this issue, we are publishing eight articles that represent the diversity of scholarship in the legal ethics field, broadly defined. We look upon this range of topics as a healthy sign that the field is evolving and growing.

Salvatore Caserta examines the exotic (to Anglo-American eyes) world of the Italian boutique law firm. Through his empirical analysis, we see a closely networked group replete with distinct values from the large law firm as shown by Muzio and Faulconbridge. Caserta reminds us that, although large law firms receive considerable attention most countries’ legal professions are composed of small firms and solo practitioners. Martin Hapla interrogates distinctions between consequentialism and role morality. Their resolution depends on an appropriate theory of normative ethics stemming from utilitarianism. Another way of expressing this is how do we resolve the competing demands of common morality with those of the professional role. Vivien Holmes directs our attention to the pressing emergencies of climate change and loss of biodiversity. Taking as her starting point that the Anthropocene is a distinct period in the world's evolution, how must then lawyers act to preserve humanity? Holmes analyses the issue looking through four lenses: moral activism, responsible lawyering, adversarial advocacy, and the ethic of care. Alvin Hung takes us back a step from Holmes in examining the teaching of legal ethics in Hong Kong. He questions how ethical values can be incorporated into legal education in a country that has been one of the main financial centres of the world. Hung advocates experiential teaching using innovative methods as well as practitioners. In this way, Hong Kong's position in the world can be sustained.

Emma Jones switches our perspective by looking inward to the vulnerability of lawyers caused by the disregard of emotions in the professionalism of the law. She notes that as emotions, wellbeing, and mental health awareness have grown, so has the potential to use these characteristics as competencies in emotional intelligence and soft skills or as commodities. This bifurcation of vulnerability has unfortunately come at the expense of the individual and to the benefit of the profession. Jones argues that we need a new paradigm that combines individual and professional values. Matthew McManus compares and contrasts the arguments of liberal egalitarians with critical legal theorists. In the first camp, we find Rawls and Dworkin who thought deeply about distributive justice but were naïve about the capabilities of law. Critical legal theorists such as Kennedy and McKinnon criticise the other side for their capitulation to extant modes of power and gender normalcy. Rather than trashing the egalitarians, McManus believes the critical theorists could pursue a more conciliatory line that would benefit both.

Jana Stelíkhová provides an analysis of an under-researched area, that of the temperance of judges’ speech. She considers the virtue of judicial temperance to be central to the integrity of the legal system. Stelíkhová teases out from the plethora of codes of judicial ethics, normative ethics, judicial standards, and the good functioning of the courts, appropriate modes of behaviour for judges. To help achieve this, she examines speeches and other comments by judges and measures them against appropriate standards. In our final article, Douglas and Akin Ojelabi examine mediation in Australia through the lens of the Guidelines for Lawyers in Mediation. Their article identifies the absence of emotion in the normative framework provided by the Guidelines. They argue that emotion should be brought in in order to help the movement towards settlement. And, moreover, law school mediation classes should incorporate emotion into their curriculum.

Along with articles, the journal is reinstating reviews, reports and notes. Our reports and notes editor is Professor Richard Wu of the University of Hong Kong. Please contact any of us for information. We welcome all submissions for this section for future issues.

Finally, we have a couple of special issues in progress. If you have ideas for a special issue, please contact me so we can discuss it.