The role of The Cambridge Journal of Law, Politics, and Art in current public discourse
I am often asked what I am trying to do with this journal. The expectation is that in a world full of action, the role of any consequential organisation is to be doing something, to be making a point, to constantly rationalise, to assert control in some way over circumstances or concepts that are within no one’s control. This is in my view one of the great problems with the art world today, and also with the fields of law and politics.
In the art world, we feel a need to turn works of beauty, soul, and craftsmanship into objects whose meaning can be extracted, boiled down, and comprehensively explained. Art History courses today teach students to rationalise the artist’s intention and explain a colour scheme or a brushstroke by reference to a political event or other circumstance. We leave nothing to mystery any more. We do not allow ourselves to be haunted by the blurred, rufescent, august scene of JMW Turner’s Rain, Steam and Speed (below). Instead, we conclude that this is a painting 'about' the Industrial Revolution and its mechanical destruction of natural beauty. Perhaps it is that too, but I suggest that we lose Turner’s genius and the spiritual power of this object through attempts to demonstrate our own intellectual capacity for interpretation. We inappropriately confront mystery with logic.
In the law, the growing recourse to the judiciary for the resolution of essentially political questions is a different disease with the same cause. The law operates—or is meant to operate—in binaries, giving narrow answers to specific questions by reference to strict tests which adhere to clear and established principles. The law is essentially logical. Asking a judge to rule on whether it is in a child’s 'best interests' to continue living, or to interfere with an unpopular government policy, not only demonstrates a failure of the political system and creates an unhealthy constitutional reliance (as Lord Sumption argued so well in his contribution to our last issue), but also pits hard logic against questions of humanity and morality, which are inherently fluid.
Similarly, the increased politicisation of the arts, visible in everything from Fine Arts courses to Arts Council funding criteria, is a similarly dangerous phenomenon. The Arts Council now chiefly awards funding to projects with a political dimension: either the background of the artist or the nature of the work must appeal to a political objective, such as the overturning of colonial legacies. Many Fine Arts courses now require coursework to meet similar criteria. Besides the appropriateness of officials deciding on what is ‘worthy’ art (dare I say, think of the Nazis’ ‘Degenerate Art’), there is also a tragic opportunity cost. Think of the many struggling ‘non-political’ artists that are not supported; of the wealth of artwork born not out of politics but out of soul and personal meaning, that is not created, or ever seen. That is the true cost to our culture and it is the product of this inappropriate interaction.
The three domains of human pursuit that this journal covers—law, politics, and art—of course interact and overlap in fascinating ways. They add new dimensions and important perspectives to one another. However, the corresponding danger is that sometimes those interactions are inappropriate and in fact damaging to the individual integrity and nuances of those fields. Sometimes a work of art need not be more than an object of individual human meaning and power. Sometimes a legal ruling need not be more than a specific, anodyne conclusion on a point of law. Sometimes an artist-in-training or an arts awards body need not look to ticking political boxes but to valuing art that comes from a place of subjective struggle and truth.
Turning back to the original question of what this journal is about: this journal is aware of the opportunities and risks that come with placing these three fields in such close proximity. This journal is also aware of the risks of agendas, particularly political agendas. As such, as an institution the role of The Cambridge Journal of Law, Politics, and Art is to be nothing but a neutral vessel for the free expression of ideas and thoughts: a place of stillness and reflection at a time of constant motion and little self-awareness. Our editorial processes are rigorous and our activities around the world teeming with ambition. But this journal has no ambition or agenda other than to allow others to express themselves truly freely, constrained only by the limitless bounds of the English language.
I set up this journal because I was exasperated with censorship, at home and abroad. Censorship, however labelled, however well-intentioned, however (seemingly) morally-driven, is still a muzzle on free expression and ultimately free thinking, and is the necessary ingredient for the decline of any culture. We are defined by the quality of our thoughts and the quality of our thoughts is often determined by our ability to express them. This journal will never be bullied into taking a view. Nor will it ever tell anyone else to take or not to take a view. An antidote to today’s problems is not to stymie debate but to improve the quality of public discourse and educate everyone, God forbid!, to be able to think for themselves. I want this publication to be the freest and purest forum in the world for the exposure of new, brilliant, daring thought.
In many ways the West is in decline. But if there is anything special left that we can offer the world, let it at least be that feeling of freedom and autonomy that leads to the greatest moments of genius and creativity; that rush of innovation and ideas that comes with feeling like there is nothing in your way, no moral-arbitering-Sword of Damocles hanging over you, waiting for you to make a mistake. That is why our editorial guidelines welcome everything from scientific research to black-letter law to creative writing. That is why the contributors to this journal include everyone from Sixth Formers to Supreme Court Judges, painters to politicians, archaeologists to advocates. That is why this journal has even developed its own technology to safely process sensitive information from political dissidents around the world.
Look once again at Turner’s Rain, Steam and Speed. A mechanised train uncompromisingly steams forward against a mystical, classical background where a rowboat moves slowly by human effort across a quiet body of water. Metallic logical and (perhaps moral) self-assuredness pierce a warm and hazy stillness that used to leave room for the unknown and for a slower, more contemplative pace. This was an atmosphere where truth, subtle thinking, and honest feeling did not have to battle against so much noise to be heard. This new journal is one of the last, determined remnants of that old, if romanticised, atmosphere. We will not stifle certain ways of thinking because we think better. We will observe, ponder, and respect what we see. We will publish all reasoned thinking because we believe that if we have moral courage and genuine openness to difference, then we can nurture and stimulate an improved quality of public discourse.
This second issue of The Cambridge Journal of Law, Politics, and Art is another important step in that direction, and dare I say, another work of cultural significance.
A very special team
The staff of this journal are formidable. This journal started as an idea; then a one-man-band; then a team of six core editors who met in a dusty corner of a Cambridge restaurant; then a group of 36 editors and sub-editors across our three thematic departments; and now an international organisation of editors, designers, business developers, events managers, global ambassadors, and coordinators, only the core of whom can be acknowledged here and overleaf. This group of people, drawn not only from the University of Cambridge but from around the world, share an unreasonable ambition to turn an idea into a major international publication known for its academic rigour, prestige of contributors, and strength of character.
It is humbling to have worked with this remarkable group of people. Every single member of The Cambridge Journal of Law, Politics, and Art has worked hard, shown great skill, and above all has demonstrated enormous creativity and vision in bringing this journal forward.
Some special thanks are due.
Uma-Johanna Shah has stood in the gap during this journal’s most testing periods. As Design Editor, Uma is responsible for the beauty, quality, and structure of this journal.
Stella Maria Sendas Mendes has had the unenviable but vital task of coordinating all of the journal’s operations. As Managing Editor, Stella has energised and organised this journal, showing great leadership, humour, and panache in the process.
Jack Graveney is the intellectual force behind this journal. As Content Editor, Jack has led the Editors—a team that has ensured this journal has an almost unmatched rigour and precision in its editorial processes and the quality of publication we put out.
As her homeland came under attack by Russian forces and refugees fled to her beautiful home in leafy St Albans, Constance Uzywshyn did not flinch. In her capacity as Executive Editor, Constance continued to bring in the breadth and calibre of contributions that allows this journal to call itself world-class. She has also played a valued role in leading this journal’s many talented staff.
William Fulp is the business brain behind this journal. A former New York stockbroker with a special talent for rearing funds and raising horses (or is it the other way around?), William has not only ensured the financial stability of the journal but has also provided and is implementing a vision for long-term growth and international distribution that, I hope, will make this journal a feasible global publication.
I can state with confidence that you would not be holding this journal in your hand had it not been for the extraordinary efforts, through thick and thin, of the five individuals named above. As much as I have been responsible for the birth of this journal, so too have I at times been its greatest liability. The personal friendship, understanding, and integrity of those mentioned above have ensured the life and growth of this journal in spite of that.
I must also warmly thank Michael Sandle RA for his sincerity, warmth, and humour. Sandle is one of the most important artists of our time. It is this journal’s honour to have his work on our front cover.
Additional thanks are due to those who, in an advisory capacity, have influenced the direction of this journal.
Martin Wilson has brought unique insights from industry and art law that will guide the direction for years to come. Sergiu Sall Simmel has provided applied and highly useful advice for the organisational effectiveness of this journal, as well as its future expansion to North America. Eduarda Gasparini’s superb creative ability, inquisitiveness, and moral support have played an important role in bringing this journal to its final stage. Peter Dixon is one of the most remarkable men I will ever meet and this journal is lucky to have his generosity and creative input. Nathalie Edwardes-Ker’s incredible intellect, strength, and warmth have given me the courage and inspiration to push through with this journal during its toughest times, and I will always be grateful to her for this: I owe her far more than can could ever be expressed here.
Lord Sumption, Lady Arden, Professor John Finnis, and Professor Matthew Kramer—some of the greatest legal minds of our time—have played an important role in ensuring this journal retains its moral courage to uphold freedom of reasoned expression, now and into the future.
Alexander (Sami) Kardos-Nyheim
Alexander (Sami) Kardos-Nyheim is the Founder and Editor-in-Chief of CJLPA.