From the preceding essays, but also from the general discussion around From Apology, two themes emerge as a constant source of puzzlement, not least to myself. How does the argument in that book affect – if at all – the way we do international law? And what does the claim to be “critical” really mean?  These are, I suppose, aspects of one larger set of problems that permeate the whole of that work. “Oh yes, it does describe the argumentative patterns pretty well. But it does not really change anything, does it?” One might approach this sort of query in different ways. It might be thought of as an expression of the classical theme about the relations of theory and practice in the social sciences. How do academic works influence the social world to which they are addressed? Or one might be more interested in the specific relationship between (academic) doctrines and legal practice – the “outside” and the “inside” of the legal profession.

I tend to think that, overall, the most promising responses to such queries come from some sort of Marxism and that any plausible view ought to recognise the reflexivity of “theory” and “practice” – the way the two co-construct each other. One must also be aware of the stakes that affect, at each level, the choice of alternative (theoretical or practical) orientations – that is to say, the role played by power in academic institutions and the contexts of legal practice. Then there is the analytically different set of questions about how all of this is translated into the distribution of costs and benefits between human groups. The latter problem is particularly difficult in international law owing to the great distance between academia, practice and the lives of men and women that are implicated in the issues lawyers seek to deal with. As David Kennedy writes in his contribution, much could be done to clarify all of this. But I cannot...