Juris

Are we Students, or are we Lovers?

Are we Students, or are we Lovers?

An exploration of the implications of student-teacher relationships

Zhang Chuangzhong

In a student’s journey from the formative to the educated, teachers are the beacons of light illuminating the path before us. Playing such an important role, the teacher-student relationship is inevitably close, and in some situations, almost intimate. The question then arises: when does such a relationship cross the threshold from professional to personal? Is a casual invitation to the tutor’s house, or perhaps a cup of coffee at a nearby café, an illicit affair?

Recent headlines have revealed such a complication, with the relationship between student Darinne Ko and professor Tey Tsun Hang branded as ‘sex for grades’ by the media. Conversely, both parties have alleged that their relationship was born out of mutual attraction, with the gifts given out of affection, not bribery, and the grades awarded out of academic excellence, not partiality. In every teaching contract, there is invariably a clause stating that a teacher must maintain professional boundaries in his or her interactions with students. In NUS, for example, the Code of Conduct mandates staff members to ensure that their private activities are not in conflict with professional obligations. The university enforces this by demanding that their staff declare any personal relationships that result in a conflict of interests, as well as any gifts received from students that are worth more than a hundred dollars.

However, while boundaries of professionalism are demarcated, such clauses are often vague and fail to explicitly and specifically detail the limits of such a relationship. Yet it is admittedly difficult to determine the exact degree of familiarity that begins to contravene a professional relationship, given the infinitely complex nature of interpersonal relationships.

Further, partiality is also punishable as a crime. Under the Prevention of Corruption Act (PCA)1, a person will be found guilty for corruptly giving or receiving from another a gratification as an inducement or as a reward for doing or forbearing to do something. Under this provision, the courts will consider a person ‘corrupt’ if he or she induces another to act dishonestly or unfaithfully. However, it is oftentimes difficult to assess a person’s intention behind a certain gift. Corruption, therefore, is an insidious shape shifter taking many forms, from the innocuous keepsake to the devious seduction. This difficulty was recognized by the courts in Chan Wing Seng v PP2, where they have ruled that a precise definition of ‘corrupt’ should be avoided, given that such a definition may unnecessarily restrict the section and compromise its effect. Further, given that ‘gratification’ encompasses a wide range of acts, it is consequently difficult to determine if a gift or favour is presented under the guise of corruption. The result is that the PCA casts a wide net, which bestows upon the courts a wide discretion to exercise their authority.

Hence, these laws suggest that the scope for a personal student-teacher relationship is extremely narrow. What, then, is to be made of a genuine friendship or relationship blossoming between student and teacher? Friendships, much more relationships, can arise out of the most unexpected of situations, and given the extensive amount of time students spend around teachers, it is not unreasonable to expect a few close friendships developing. To maintain a harmless relationship without risking any misconstruction, the obvious solution will be to keep everything aboveboard, with outings carried out in groups, and gifts kept to simple cards and trinkets. More drastically, the parties can perhaps implement a hiatus to delay any further deepening of the relationship until the student graduates. Then again, who can fathom the intricacies of human relationships? Regulation may not always prove to be the most feasible of solutions. Where relationships grow more and more intense, risks will inevitably be taken, as both parties war with their conflicting emotions. The line between the professional and the personal will be consequently blurred.

However, it should be noted that the consequences of contravening the law are dire. Not only will the teacher lose his job and face criminal punishment, but the student will be implicated as well. Punishment under the PCA entails a fine of up to a hundred thousand dollars or imprisonment of up to five years, or both. Interestingly, even if the person is not convicted, the consequences are catastrophic as long as the charge can be made out. Both parties will have their credibility and moral integrity damaged by the media, which has both the ability and the tendency to gleefully disclose the names and personal details of accused persons. Further, given the social stigma attached to such cases, coupled with the relatively conservative nature of Singaporeans, this damage will be irrevocably destructive to the parties’ social and professional lives. Even a complete acquittal, then, will be of little significance if reputations were shredded in the process. The headlines and media hype over Tey and Ko’s case highlights this very situation, where derogatory comments on the parties’ actions, background and even looks are splashed across every media channel.

One cannot help but wonder if all these could have been avoided. If the school could have implemented a system to manage such relationships at the onset, such controversy could have been avoided. As it currently stands, the university has indeed recognized the inevitability of familial relationships by regulating the extent to which such relationships interfere with professionalism. Professors are required to declare any relatives who have entered the school and are accordingly prohibited from teaching them, setting and even discussing examinations. Perhaps the university could consider extending these measures to student-teacher relationships. Such measures could have allowed Koh and Tey to seek recourse by declaring and subsequently abiding by the accompanying regulations, instead of keeping their relationship in the shadows, only to have the blinding light of the law expose their affairs.

“Let us not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments”. Shakespearean fans will resonate with the idealism in his words, even as cynics scoff. Yet it must be qualified, that there is a proper place and time for a friendship or relationship to be borne to fruition. For two parties who are of one mind, surely a few short years will be a small price to pay. The hasty, however, bears a most burdensome risk, as Tey and Ko are finding out for themselves. Moreover, given that Tey and Ko are no longer seeing each other, one cannot help but wonder if the risks that they took for that short affair were worth such a costly venture.

Taken from the Dean’s Message to the Student body: It was never the prosecution’s case that grades were in fact tampered with. NUS Law is acutely aware that grades and degrees shape the future of the graduates, and the school’s reputation as an institution. The school is conducting a review to ensure the integrity of the grading system and thus far have found no evidence of any irregularities.


[1] Cap 241, 1993 Rev Ed

[2] [1997] 1 SLR(R) 721

When doctors overcharge, what price do they pay?

When doctors overcharge, what price do they pay?

Relooking the decision of Susan Lim Mey Lee v Singapore Medical Council [2013] SGHC 122

Eric Hu*

The decision of Susan Lim Mey Lee v Singapore Medical Council [2013] SGHC 122 (“the present case”) is a significant one as it sets out a clear position in Singapore that doctors have a higher ethical duty which triumphs over all other commercial considerations.

Dr Susan Lim was the principal physician for a member of the royal family of Brunei and she billed a total of approximately $24 million for her services. Dissatisfied with the costs, the Bruneian government sought the intervention of Ministry of Health of Singapore, which started the disciplinary proceedings. The Court thoroughly examined the 94 charges against Dr Lim and found that her fees charged were “grossly excessive and vastly disproportionate to the services actually provided”.1 The Court of Three Judges eventually agreed with the Disciplinary Committee (DC) in finding Dr Lim liable for professional misconduct2.

The decision sets out clearly that there is an ethical obligation on all doctors in Singapore to charge a fair and reasonable fee for their services, given the “immeasurable trust and confidence bestowed on them both by patients and by community at large”.3

A few questions are worthy of consideration.

WHAT IF THE PATIENT AGREED TO THE MEDICAL COSTS?

In the present case, there was no fee agreement between Dr Lim and the patient. However, suppose a doctor clearly communicated with the patient of the medical costs with clear documentation and the patient agreed to the costs. Can the doctor still charge a higher price than the market rate? The Court states a firm no: Overcharging can still occur even if there is a prior agreement on fees4 as ethical obligations of a doctor must “prevail over contractual obligations”5.

WHAT IF THE DOCTOR IS EXPERIENCED OR IS THE BEST IN HIS OR HER FIELD?

The answer given by the courts? The doctor could not overcharge nevertheless. It seems straightforward. However, it may not be easy to tell in practice. This may be more clear-cut for simple procedures, which have a standard fee range for public and private hospitals. In the present case, Dr Susan Lim clearly overcharged over than a few times than the market rate for simple procedures which do not require her expertise or skills. The DC found that Dr Lim was not treating the patient in her specific field of specialisation, i.e. as a general surgeon but instead her treatment was palliative in nature and she was “coordinating treatment rendered by other specialists”6.

However, when it comes to complex surgical procedures which did not arise in the present case, it may not be as straightforward. It is hard to put a price on something intangible yet valuable like an experienced doctor’s skill. Certain factors such as his qualifications and years of practice can only serve as criteria.

Further, it seems imperfect to compare one experienced doctor to another. Do we take reference from the best in the field and adjust downwards? Who then determines what the best doctor in the field can charge?

These are difficult questions to ponder upon, especially when no fee guidelines are given.

SHOULD THERE BE A FEE GUIDELINE?

Fee guidelines have been introduced in 1987, but were scrapped in 2010 after Competition Commission of Singapore (CCS) deemed them to be anti-competitive.7

It should be noted what constitutes a fair and reasonable fee for services rendered depends not only on the relevant facts but also on views of experts in the particular field of practice.8 However, it was argued by Dr Lim that the views of experts were so varied that it would be impossible to determine a fair and reasonable fee, especially without fee guidelines. However, the Court disagreed and stated that it must be at the very least possible to determine the possible range of fees fair and reasonable in a particular set of circumstances.9

The Court suggested an approach of improved pricing transparency to arrive at fair and reasonable fees for medical services.10 This suggestion appears to be taken up by hospitals. From 2 Sep 2013, Ministry of Health has published percentiles of bill sizes for each procedure for public and private hospitals.11

However, many doctors in private and specialist clinics still face a problem: What is this proverbial ‘ethical limit’ decided by the Court? It has led to a number of doctors calling for a revisit for such a guideline. They called for the Academy of Medicine, Singapore Medical Association and the Health Ministry to come together to provide answers to the perplexing question of what the ethical limit is12.

Some doctors have revealed which factors they use to determine the size of their bills, in the wake of this case. Public sector fees, insurance payouts and peer pressure all help them to gauge the ethical limit on how much specific services should cost13. However, as a doctor pointed out, it would be “near impossible” to know where the lines are drawn in the absence of specific guidelines14.

But before we bring back the guidelines, the CCS’s concerns must be addressed. Law don Burton Ong pointed out that the CCS did not condemn all professional fee guidelines per se. He proposed a rephrasing of the guidelines such that it will be structured for patients, not doctors. This could then serve as “an objective and rational benchmark for ascertaining when and if doctors should be sanctioned for overcharging their patients”15. This suggestion can possibly be taken up.

LOOKING FORWARD

However, as the details of an ethical limit are being worked on, we can consider a suggestion. The lawyer profession has been alluded to in the Court judgment. Like doctors, lawyers also have a duty not to overcharge their clients. Similarly, the legal profession does not have written price guidelines. Perhaps the medical profession can consider drawing from the Legal Profession (Professional Conduct) Rules.

For example, Rule 35 of the Rules sets out sub-rules which require the lawyer to inform the client of an estimate of fees and to inform of approximate costs every 6 months. If the final amount varies substantially, the lawyer must advise his client of the change in circumstances in writing. Rule 36 further requires the lawyer to advise the client of costs at the outset of a contentious matter so that the client is aware at the outset of costs and risks of civil litigation.16

Similarly here, doctors can inform patients on their conditions and costs of procedures at the outset, particularly what to expect at different stages of treatments. If there is a change in the patient’s condition, the doctor should likewise advise the patient and his family necessarily. Certainly, this suggestion may not be directly transferable to the medical context and one needs to possibly consider issues such as patient confidentiality and medical ethics.

In practical terms, the above suggestion may work. Often a complaint against a doctor only arises when the patient feels something is amiss or the final costs are far from what he expected. Thus, if the final costs have been communicated right from the start and there was mutual consent, such complaints might not arise in the first place. This is what Dr. Susan Lim has not done satisfactorily, which led to the Bruneian Government launching the complaint.

However, this does not stop cases where a patient changes his mind and turns around to state that the price was outside of the ‘ethical limit’ despite the earlier agreement. After all, this seems to be what the Court is saying: even if there is an agreement, a doctor cannot charge beyond the ‘ethical limit’. The earlier suggestion can do so much as to minimise the numbers of complaints arising. However, doctors in the above scenario need not be overly concerned as the ethical rule is ultimately one rooted in “logic, common sense, justice and fairness … [and] will not be enforced unreasonably”17 as the Court rightfully noted.

When a complaint is launched, a series of investigations will begin. While there is now an ‘ethical limit’, it is submitted that in practice, the SMC will probably only commence disciplinary proceedings if there has been an egregious disregard for the Ethical Code and Guidelines or exaggerated overcharging of fees, as in the present case. As the Court stated, “one’s peers will be slow to find a breach or to find professional misconduct in marginal cases”18.

RELOOKING THE PENALTIES?

A final point is regarding the sanction meted out to Dr. Lim. The DC has found that Dr Lim has breached her ethical obligation by the “widest and clearest margin” and meted out the maximum financial penalty of $10,000 and the maximum suspension period of 3 years. Yet, the DC felt that it was not appropriate to remove Dr Lim from the register as she has displayed exceptional care to the patient and was an “exceptionally skilled doctor who brought credit to Singapore”19. However, the penalty of $10,000 seemed a slap on the wrist considering the huge quantum of fees Dr Lim invoiced. This sentiment is likewise expressed by the Court20. While the maximum penalty has now been raised to $100,00021, it is submitted that the Disciplinary Tribunal can exercise its discretion under Section 53(2)(h)22 to order the disgorging of profits back to the patient in future cases if that proved necessary. The Tribunal may also consider making a Community Service Order, drawing reference from the Community-Based Sentencing (CBS) options provided in the Community Court. This can be useful, following recent calls for more pro bono work in the medical sector23.

In addition, the disparity between a maximum 3-year suspension and a lifelong erasure from the register seemed huge. Thus, the Legislature can consider increasing the maximum suspension period. However, in practical terms, the 3-year period may already have a significant impact to the doctor’s clientele.

CONCLUSION

In all, the decision has been helpful in clarifying that there is indeed an ethical obligation by doctors not to overcharge and that obligation triumphs over all other contractual obligations. However, the ethical limit one can charge still remains arbitrary. It is best that medical associations and boards can come together to clarify this, ideally via fee guidelines. Associate Professor Burton Ong’s suggestions can be considered as we reintroduce the fee guidelines. Finally, the Legislature and the Disciplinary Tribunal can consider relooking the penalties and orders they can make in future cases.


*Special thanks go to Yeoh Jean Ann and Benjamin Kwok for their invaluable comments. All opinions and errors remain solely my own.

[1] Susan Lim Mey Lee v Singapore Medical Council [2013] SGHC 122 at [86]

[2] Under the Medical Registration Act (Cap 174, 2004 Rev Ed). It was the earlier Act which applied instead of the current Act as the misconduct occurred before the amendments were made by the Legislature.

[3] Supra note 2 at [52]

[4] Ibid at [50]

[5] Ibid at [64]

[6] Ibid at [74]

[7] Competition Commission Singapore, Media Release, (19 August 2010). Also see Lim Meng Kin, “Medical fee guidelines anti-competitive”, Health Policy Monitor, October 2010.

[8] Supra note 2 at [53]

[9] Ibid

[10] Ibid

[11] http://www.moh.gov.sg/content/moh_web/home/costs_and_financing/HospitalBillSize.html

[12] Huang Shoou Chyuan, “Revisit need for fee guideline”, The Straits Times Forum (4 July 2013)

[13] Poon Chian Hui and Bryna Singh, “Doctor’s charges: How high is too high?”, The Straits Times (3 July 2013)

[14] Ibid

[15] Burton Ong, “Fee guides: Focus on patients, real charges”, The Straits Times (17 September 2013)

[16] Yashodhara Dhoraisingam, “Understanding a Lawyer’s Professional Duty to Provide Clients Information on Fees”, The Law Gazette (January 2005)

[17] Supra note 2 at [70]

[18] Ibid

[19] Ibid at [142]

[20] Ibid

[21] Section 53(2)(e) of the current Medical Registration Act

[22] This section provides: “make such other order as the Disciplinary Tribunal thinks fit, including any order that a Complaints Committee may make under section 49(1)”

[23] “Time for more to do pro bono work”, The Straits Times (18 December 2012)

Cooking up Legal Theory

Cooking Up Legal Theory

Nicole Carmen Tan Yi

“[T]heory is built on ignorance” (Halpin, 20001). Since it is reasonable to assume that skills attained from practical experience in law will never be rich enough to provide us with what is required from the practice, legal theory endeavours to provide the best understanding of law, by attempting to encapsulate its features: its nature and technical aspects. However, whether legal theory actually does assist in our understanding of law is an entirely different issue, and it is this question that this essay seeks to answer.

To do so, an analogy can be drawn between legal theory and cooking recipes; recipes are instructions that put forth a description of a dish and steps on how to create it. Therefore individual recipes, however general, only cover how to prepare specific kinds of dishes. Similarly, individual legal theories fail terribly in providing a fixed concept of law, as no single theory will be able to provide a framework that will cover the law of every type, in every jurisdiction, and at every era. I am not proposing that legal theory is completely useless, but that the true value of individual theories is in assisting our understanding of law in limited scopes. With this said, before they can be of any practical value, we must first point out the precise role each theory best plays, and apply it accordingly. To do so, two deductions necessarily follow for every theory:

  1. The scope of the theory must be identifiable via the acknowledgment of its limitations.
  2. The theory must be accurately categorised into any of these three kinds: Descriptive, Normative and Prescriptive.

Deduction (1) is cardinal because we want to apply the theory in real-world situations, and not in a vacuum. Because of the complexity of the interactions between law and real-life situations, in order to efficaciously apply any theory to any real-life context, four important factors must be considered: Who is applying it, what type of law it is applied in, when it is applicable, and where (which jurisdiction) it is applied. Correspondingly, Deduction (1) is needed to tells us:

[Who] if the theory can be applied by everyone in the same way; [What] how well fit the theory will be in a specific area of law; [When] whether we are moving towards or away from such a framework; [Where] if any modifications need to be made before the theory can be transplanted from one jurisdiction to another.

The significance of these factors will be elucidated when we reach the specific examples of legal theories. The importance of Deduction (2) will be handled as the essay goes on, and will form the major theme in the essay, to show how theory assists in our understanding of law.

DESCRIPTIVE THEORIES: JUST FOR STARTERS

For a recipe to be effective, it requires only a framework of how to prepare a dish – a list of the ingredients needed and an explanation on how to prepare it. The addition of other information like the precise cooking techniques does not necessarily improve on its helpfulness, as people have different skills and personal preferences even for the most basic steps (like stirring). Imposing methods of such specificity, if unsuitable, may result in the dish tasting different from what it should. Accordingly, there is value in the positivist’s view that the objective description of law is a worthy goal, because one must have an idea of the skeleton of law before any analysis or application of the theory can come into play; the importance of the conceptual separation of law from morality comes across visibly as well, given that our ideas of morality are inexplicably differing.

Austin’s Command Theory: Reflective of Criminal Law In 19th Century England

In the Command Theory, Austin maintained that coercion is an essential and normative aspect of law, and that legal norms comprise threats backed by sanctions. While this has been fiercely criticised because it neglected the non-coercive dimensions of law, it must be noted that the period which Austin put forth his Command Theory was during the 19th century, where a great deal of emphasis was placed on criminal law due to the skyrocketing of crime rates. Therefore, it is understandable why the purpose of law then focused on maintaining order. However, with the expansion of law to cover various other types such as company and intellectual property law, coordinating interests of people is of greater importance. It is thus imperative to recognise that while this theory is likely to represent the law in 19th century England, it is unlikely to represent the current state of law even in England itself, where various areas of law are not coercive in nature. This illustrates the significance of [When], because as societies progress and law gets more advanced, law’s primary functions may change, making it important to recognise the limitations of such theories’ accuracy in this respect.

Nevertheless, the fact that this is a descriptive theory of the past does not render it useless in assisting one’s understanding of today’s law, as long as one can accurately identify the area of the law in which it can be applied [What] and does not apply it as a blanket concept. The Command Theory can still accurately capture many aspects of criminal law in many societies today. Singapore serves as an excellent example, as people here are fined for extremely trivial activities, such as selling chewing gum (as per the Sale of Food (prohibition of Chewing Gum) Regulations2). While these are considered to be perfectly acceptable in other nations, most people who come to Singapore nevertheless adhere to these rules – the most plausible explanation of this, is that the threat of sanctions provides criminal law with normativity that it would otherwise not have.

Hart’s Model of Rules: Focus on Legal Rules and Materials

As a descriptive theory, Hart’s theory attempts to describe the law as it is, and focuses on the idea that a legal system consists of primary and secondary rules. However, it nevertheless covers grey areas of law, such as whether constructive dismissal falls within the definition of “notice of dismissal” in section 84(1)(b)(ii) of the Employment Act3, which he would label as a “penumbra of doubt”. His theory allows us to understand that the issue would be whether there is a primary of obligation imposed on employers to provide statutory compensation to constructively dismissed pregnant employees, and that judges will use their discretion to decide on this (covered in “open texture – this however, is left as a preliminary concept with little development).

Although the lack of emphasis on legal reasoning has been fiercely criticised, placing greater emphasis on legal rules has greater worth than what people would usually credit it for. This is because we can only use legal materials as our reference to what the law is; in attempting to understand the present situation of the law, we can only turn to legal rules and use legal materials to help us ascertain how the law really is, as opposed to thinking processes of lawyers, legislatures or even judges. Therefore, rules play a much larger and more concrete role than legal reasoning. Going back to the analogy, the precise steps taken in its preparation although imperative in preparing the dish, are no longer central to what the dish is once it is served. Steps then become merely norms that the creators of the dish use – thus this belongs not in a descriptive, but a normative theory.

NORMATIVE THEORIES: EACH HIS OWN TASTE

Normative theories describe purported norms relating to law; it is important to differentiate such theories from descriptive theories, because even if a legal rule or decision seems to completely stray from accepted norm, it does not change the fact that it is still valid law. Normative theories are important when one wants a deeper understanding of the process of the creation of law – Legal reasoning, and play a predictive role, to show how an area of law or a specific legal rule is likely to change. However, there is clearly no hard-and-fast rule on the criteria people use in legal reasoning to make a legal decision, for example, one may weigh morality over procedural due process or vice-versa. Thus it is unavoidable that such theories will never accurately predict the outcome of all legal decisions, like how recipes can never describe the exact taste or capture the exact appearance of the dishes created from them.

Dworkin’s Interpretive Theory of Law: Hercules

Dworkin has attracted many critics for his “Right Answer Thesis”, that what people disagree on, is what the right answers to individual cases are, the right answers being how the perfect judge “Hercules” would rule there. While it as a theory providing an interpretive truth is inherently problematic, it forms a completely cogent a normative theory. It is perfectly reasonable to purport that it is a norm that judges would work towards possessing Hercules’ characteristics of “superhuman skill, learning, patience and acumen” (Dworkin, 19774) just as how it is absolutely acceptable to say that all chefs aspire to be a flawless master-chef who cooks the best food.

Furthermore, Dworkin even set the context where his Hercules exists: “some representative American Jurisdiction” (Dworkin, 19775). This serves as an acknowledgment that the process of legal reasoning he purports to be used (with the use of justice, fairness, procedural due process and political morality as primary decision-making factors) may not be as preferable in a different Jurisdiction [Where] – it is highly unlikely that political morality will supersede religious will in Islamic law. Therefore, modifications must be made to these determinative factors in Dworkin’s theory for the theory to accurately reflect legal reasoning processes in such jurisdictions.

Nevertheless, using Dworkin’s theory as a normative framework, it assists in understanding the trend of change that Law in American Jurisdictions undergoes, such as in Adarand Constructors Inc v Pena6, where it was held that race based discrimination, including discrimination in favour of minorities (affirmative action), is subject to strict judicial scrutiny. Evidently, fairness (equal treatment to all) was central to this decision, and a balance between political considerations and inherent morals was struck here.

However, the scope of Dworkin’s Theory is rather limited because it only covers judicial reasoning, and fails to make a conscious effort to look at legal reasoning by lawyers or the legislature, which incontrovertibly play an important part in the making of legal decisions. It is obviously unwise to forcefully apply this theory if one wants to understand the legal reasoning processes of lawyers or the legislature, given how their roles in shaping the law are inherently different [Who]. It would be akin to saying that tasters and gourmets affect how dishes prepared are in the same way that chefs do.

PRESCRIPTIVE THEORIES: DISHING OUT THE IMPROVEMENTS NEEDED

When one already knows how to cook a specific dish, one will no longer need to refer to the specific recipe while cooking. However, when people’s taste change, one will need to make modifications so as to suit this change; otherwise, the dish will fail to achieve its purpose of providing satisfaction to its consumer. Correspondingly, in such situations, a prescriptive theory will be useful, as only by having an idea of what the law should be, will one know understand how the law should be reformed to suit the changing needs of people. There is little doubt that improvements can be done without using legal theory, just as how dishes can be improvised in the process of cooking. However, using theory will result in a more efficient reform process, like how changing the recipe used to an improved one results in less time and food wasted compared to a trial-and-error process. Once accepted as a prescriptive theory, the question on how useful a theory is in understanding the law transforms into the simple issue of “whether the new recipe is better than the old one”, because a prescriptive theory only has value if it indeed shows how the law should be.

Posner’s Economic Analysis of the Law: As a Prescriptive Concept

In his earlier works, Posner stated that wealth maximisation of society’s total wealth is a standard that should guide judges in their decisions. As a prescriptive concept, this is a viable and appropriate theory that should be adopted, as it allows us to work with something of tangible value that people can essentially agree on. This is because monetary value is central to people’s interests and well-being, and order in society. It is also one of the few quantifiers that is as (perhaps more) pervasive in the real world as law itself. Applying this approach in Competition Law, it provides a clear explanation why nations should have anti-monopoly laws that specifically exempt natural monopolies. Generally, monopolies do not maximise wealth, given that the lack of competition results in higher prices of goods, and provides little incentive to improve on products. However, natural monopolies are exceptions to this – hence explaining the need to adhere to the specificity of this suggestion.

Feminism: The Need for Individual Analysis

In the case of feminism, there is great variety within the group itself, such that basically the only common belief held is that the law has been distorted towards the perspective or interests of men. As such, in order to get a better understanding of how a specific law should be changed, one needs to analyse each theory within it individually. It is hardly of any use to apply feminism as a theory in its entirety; just as how a general recipe of “preparing seafood” is not going to be of any help in cooking a crab. Nonetheless, just the fact that the idea “women should not be seen as subservient to men” evidently calls for the lifting of marital immunity for rape (found in Section 375(4) of the Penal Code7) alone is sufficient proof that individual ideas of feminism can show how the law should be changed.

LEGAL THEORY – THE ICING ON THE CAKE OF PROPER APPLICATION

Descriptive, normative and prescriptive theories play inherently different roles, with descriptive theories assisting us in understanding past and current law, normative theories assisting us in understanding the likely developments of law, and prescriptive theories assisting us in understanding preferable directions that the law should head in. While they individually assist in our understanding of law, they require skills for proper application in order to avoid confusion and muddling of one’s understanding from practical experience. What is important to note is that they are only approximations of the law, however close they may be, and that they may ultimately differ from practical experience. As such, when practical experience proves otherwise, one needs to know when to let go of legal theory and return to relying on the knowledge derived from practical experience. After all, what use is a “fried rice” recipe even to a novice cook attempting to make fried rice, if provides instructions on steaming, or does not have rice as one of its ingredients?


[1] Andrew Halpin, “Law, theory and practice: conflicting perspectives?” (2000) 7 Int’l J Legal Prof 205

[2] Cap 283, 2004 Rev Ed Sing

[3] Cap 91, 2009 Rev Ed Sing

[4] Ronald Dworkin, Taking Rights Seriously (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1977) at 105

[5] Ibid, at 105

[6] 515 US 200 (1995)

[7] Cap 224, 2008 Rev Ed Sing

Judicial Review in Singapore

Judicial Review in Singapore

Chan Ying Ling

The recent case of Lim Meng Suang v AG1, where the court was called upon to determine the constitutionality of the controversial statute s 377A2 which criminalizes acts of gross indecency between two male persons, has drawn attention to the process of judicial review in Singapore. This essay attempts to paint a general picture on judicial review in Singapore and the internal restrictions placed by the courts on the scope of judicial review.

Judicial power is vested in the courts under Art 93 of the Constitution. Even though “judicial power” is not expressly defined under the Constitution, it has been described in Huddart Parker Pty Ltd v Moorehead3 as the “power which every sovereign authority must of necessity have to decide controversies between its subjects or between itself and its subjects, whether the rights relate to life, liberty or property”.

Under the Constitution, the three branches of government are established under separate chapters, implicitly endorsing the separation of powers. Under the principle of separation of powers, the power of government is separated between three branches of government: the Executive, the Legislature, and the Judiciary. Each of the three branches of government has control over a different domain and operates independently of each other.

Under Art 4, the Constitution is the supreme law of Singapore. Due to the principle of constitutional supremacy, John Marshall CJ in Marbury v Madison4 stated that any law that is inconsistent with the written constitution as “the fundamental and paramount law of the nation” is, to the extent of the inconsistency, void. This forms the basis for the courts’ jurisdiction for judicial review. In Chan Hiang Leng Colin v PP5 [Colin Chan], the court held that it had “the power and duty to ensure that the provisions of the Constitution are observed”6 by declaring as void unconstitutional laws and administrative acts which exceed the limits of the power conferred.

In Singapore, the written constitution confers upon the Judiciary co-ordinate status with the Parliament. In Mohammad Faizal v PP [Faizal]7, the court noted that the judicial power of the courts is derived from the Constitution and is thus co-equal with the legislative power and the executive power. Due to the principle of constitutional supremacy, the courts in Singapore have the power to strike down unconstitutional laws.

Preliminary requirements have to be met before the courts are willing to conduct judicial review. Under Order 53 of the Rules of the Court, the applicant applying for leave to grant the relief claimed has to show a prima facie case of reasonable suspicion. The case must be real and not a theoretical one8; and it must not be premature9. Also, the principle of res judicata applies such that the courts cannot reopen old cases unless it was to do justice10. The applicant of a case must also have locus standi to bring the case before the court. In Singapore, the “sufficient interest” test is used for judicial review cases in order to sift out claims without merit11.

After preliminary requirements are met, the courts may also decline jurisdiction for judicial review if the issue is not one which is appropriate for the courts to answer or if it falls outside the expertise of the courts. The court in Faizal12 noted that the principle of separation of powers requires each branch of the government to act within the limits of its own powers. In Yong Vui Kong v AG13, Steven Chong J identified three factors which will affect the court’s decision to decline to conduct judicial review. First, the courts will decline to intervene where there is an absence of objective legal standards, such as where the issue is one of political or subjective preference. Second, the courts will decline to intervene where it lacks specialist knowledge. Third, the courts will decline to intervene where the issue is polycentric and involves multiple concerns and perspectives.

In Yong Vui Kong v AG14 [Yong 2010], the court refused to decide on whether the differentiating measures under the MDA are reasonable because that question goes beyond the jurisdiction of the courts and is best decided by the legislature who has the popular mandate of the people. In Chng, the courts affirmed and applied the House of Lords decision of GCHQ15 that courts should step in and exercise judicial review only where there is illegality, irrationality or procedural impropriety in the exercise of administrative authority. Also, in Lee Hsien Loong v Review Publishing Co Ltd16, Menon JC (as he then was) held that there were “clearly provinces of executive decision-making that are, and should be immune from judicial review”. Menon JC further held that a calibrated approach should be taken where the intensity of judicial review is dependent on the facts of the case and the subject matter in question. This approach is based on the doctrine of separation of powers because issues relating to policy are best addressed by the executive rather than the unelected judiciary. In this sense, there is a balance that has to be achieved between judicial review and the principle of separation of powers because there are certain issues which should be left to the executive branch of the government who has the mandate of the people.

It is submitted that the relationship between the Judiciary and the Executive should not be adversarial in nature, but should focus primarily on encouraging public administration which conforms to the rule of law. This is known as the “green-light” doctrine. In Judicial Review, Chan CJ noted that the “green-light” doctrine is likely to be preferred because it allows the seeking of “good government through the political process and public avenues rather than redress bad government through the courts”17.

In conclusion, to give effect to the principle of constitutional supremacy, the courts have to exercise their powers of judicial review to ensure that legislations are not repugnant to the doctrines of rule of law and separation of powers, and are also not inconsistent with the Constitution. The courts have internal restrictions on their scope of judicial powers and will decline jurisdiction where they do not have the requisite expertise or where it is inappropriate for the courts to intervene. Ultimately, the courts should not develop an adversarial relationship with the Executive, but rather, adopt the “green-light” doctrine and focus on the promotion of good administrative practices.


[1] [2013] SGHC 73

[2] Penal Code (Cap 224, 2008 Rev Ed)

[3] Huddart Parker Pty Ltd v Moorehead (1908-1909) 9 CLR 330

[4] Marbury v Madison 5 US (1 Cranch) 137 (1803)

[5] Chan Hiang Leng Colin v PP [1994] 3 SLR(R) 209

[6] Supra at [9]

[7] Mohammad Faizal v PP [2012] 4 SLR 0947 at [16]

[8] The Russian Commercial & Industrial Bank v British Bank for Foreign Trade [1921] 2 AC 438

[9] Wong Keng Leoong Rayney v Law Society of Singapore [2006] 4 SLR 934

[10] Management Corporation Strata Title Plan No 301 v Lee Tat Development Pte Ltd [2011] 1 SLR 998

[11] ACC v CIT [2010] 1 SLR 273

[12] Ibid at [16]

[13] Yong Vui Kong v AG [2011] 1 SLR 1

[14] Yong Vui Kong v AG [2010] SGCA 20

[15] Council of Civil Service Unions v Minister for the Civil Service [1985] AC 374

[16] Lee Hsien Loong v Review Publishing Co Ltd [2007] 2 SLR(R) 453

[17] Ibid at [29]