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Book Review
Christopher J. W. Allen, The Law of Evidence in Victorian England,
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997. Pp. xvi + 205. $59.95 (ISBN
0-5215-8418-3).
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At the beginning of the nineteenth century, those with
the greatest knowledge of the facts relevant to a legal dispute
were often barred from giving testimony in British courtrooms. Defendants,
for example, were forbidden from testifying under oath in criminal
cases. In civil cases, the parties themselves were kept out of the
witness box. Those lacking religious belief were also excluded.
By the end of the century, as numerous statutory reforms gradually
eliminated these exclusionary rules about the competence of testimony,
the landscape had changed considerably. Criminal defendants, interested
parties, and atheists were now welcome to give evidence.
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In its broad outlines, this story
is well-knownindeed, it constitutes the received wisdom about
the transformation of nineteenth-century law of evidence. This dramatic
expansion of testimonial competence has, however, received surprisingly
little sustained scholarly attention. Christopher Allen's The
Law of Evidence in Victorian England fills this void by looking
closely at the statutes that brought about these transformations
and their broader context. |
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Allen provides substantially
more detail than any previous account regarding the various legislative
efforts to remove the different forms of disqualification, including
both successful bills and the many unsuccessful endeavors. His analysis
of the arguments put forward in Parliament for and against the various
bills and his description of how principled support or opposition
for reform combined with practical legislative politics are interesting
and well-executed.
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One of the book's central goals is
to debunk the conventional wisdom that credits Jeremy Bentham as
intellectual godfather of this array of legislative changes. Allen
aims to replace the story of "one man and the legislation that his
writings inspired" (7) with a more complex tale, one in which the
leading roles are played by broader social transformations such
as increasing secularism; heightened concern for the protection
for property; greater attention to individual responsibility; and
growing concern over the potential injustice caused by the exclusion
of key witnesses or innocent defendants. Local politics, a desire
to harmonize procedures across courts, and the increased role of
counsel in criminal trials are cast in supporting parts. Bentham
still has a role in this revised story, but he is no longer the
leading player. |
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Allen succeeds in showing
that Bentham's ideas were not the exclusive, or even the most important,
cause of the evidentiary reforms. Benthamite notions were not accepted
in full by any of the reformers (91). And some of Bentham's most
strongly held beliefs failed to take hold. The privilege against
self-incrimination, for example, which Bentham despised, not only
continued but grew more entrenched (184). Moreover, Bentham's criticisms
were, at root, directed at all technical rules of evidence, all
of which he saw as enriching "sinister interests" and giving power
to "Judge & Co." (54). In fact, as Allen shows, reforms generally
occurred with the consent and approval of substantial portions of
the legal establishment and the judiciary, not against their wishes
(115-18, 152, 181-82). Furthermore, judge-made rules of evidence
grew in complexity and significance over this period, rather than
being replaced by the less rule-based and more commonsensical approach
that Bentham advocated (14-49). Allen thus shows persuasively that
the changes in evidence law cannot be construed as a wholecloth
embrace of Benthamite principles. |
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Finally, Allen suggests some deeper
causes for reform entirely separate from Bentham and his ideas.
He indicates, for example, that the statutes allowing religious
dissenters and atheists to testify were prompted by growing religious
skepticism and a diminishing belief in the need for religion as
social cement (67-76). And Allen identifies the growing commitment
to notions of individual responsibility as spurring reform of the
prohibition against defendants' testimony (173-75). These claims,
while interesting, are explored in a cursory manner, and Allen's
sources remain primarily legal and legislative in nature. His discussions
of broader social causes for these evidentiary changes therefore
remain more suggestive than persuasive. |
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Allen neither replaces Bentham
with some other intellectual spearhead, nor proposes an alternative
intellectual genealogy for the reforms. As a result, the discussion
of Bentham's influence is framed not as Bentham's ideas versus someone
else's, but in terms of Bentham's ideas versus other kinds of causes.
As Allen acknowledges, a great many of the specific arguments marshaled
for reform did have a Benthamite cast, though typically watered-down. |
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Still, Allen succeeds in showing that
the intellectual impetus for the statutory reforms of the late nineteenth
century was not a one-man play with Bentham in the starring role.
The problem, of course, is that Allen is arguing against something
of a straw man. The claim of Bentham's enormous influence has been
made with some frequencyas Allen reminds us, for example,
Holdsworth thought "the age of the law reform and the age of Bentham
were one and the same" (6). Most of these claims, however, consist
of strong but vague assertions about Bentham's influence, not careful
attempts to evaluate it. That is, most of us do not need to read
Allen's book to know that Bentham did not act as an intellectual
prime mover with respect to changes in nineteenth-century evidence
law. Of course there were other influenceshow could it have
been otherwise? How could broader social conceptions about religion;
changing notions of justice, fairness, and individual responsibility;
local politics; and radical transformations in lawyers' roles fail
to influence the way lawyers, judges, and legislators thought about
the law of evidence? Even the staunchest advocates of intellectual
history rarely claim that the ideas of the great are the exclusive
force in history. Enumerating and explaining these other influences
is a worthy enterprise, to be sure, but their mere existence is
hardly a surprise. |
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One of book's most fundamental
and interesting questions is, unfortunately, left unanswered. Allen
notes that the transformation of British evidence law was two-sidedeven
as the legislature slashed away at testimonial incompetence, judges
themselves created ever more technical, finicky rules to govern
competent witnesses' testimony. He remarks that the "main problem
... is how to account for the exclusionary, rule-based system that
began to govern testimony in court and that was in marked contrast
to the moves made in Parliament" (14). In one chapter Allen does
look at contemporaneous common law developments (14-49), but this
discussion is not integrated into the rest of the book, leaving
the reader curious about how the common law developments and the
statutory changes relate. Were these transformations connected,
or was one a response to the other? Do they genuinely represent
opposite tendencies, or do they somehow fit together into a larger
intellectual whole? |
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For a book that claims to tell the
story of the Victorian law of evidence "not ... as a self-contained
system" but as "a part of the Victorian world to which it belongedinfluenced
by a variety of social, political and intellectual pressures" (186),
the attention paid to this broader world is scant. Too often Allen
shows us the arguments employed by members of Parliament, judges,
and legal commentators, but fails to put them effectively into a
broader intellectual or social context. He shows that the fear of
unreliable testimony and perjury diminished (167-70) and that the
reluctance to exclude clearly relevant testimony increased, but
he never fully explores the causes for these changes. Were there
connections between the changes in evidence law and the rise of
the professions or the increasing reliance on science and expertise? |
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Moreover, we are left wondering
about the concrete effects of the myriad statutory changes. How
did they transform actual trials? Was testimony in fact viewed as
more suspect by judges or juries as a result of the inclusion of
witnesses with obvious incentives to lie, as some opponents of reform
predicted? Did concern over unjustified convictions, one of the
central points articulated in favor of allowing criminals to testify,
decrease in any noticeable way after the reforms of 1898? Was the
legitimacy of the legal system or legal process enhanced as a result
of the inclusion of these new classes of witnesses? This is a broad
set of questions indeed, and even if Allen can be faulted for not
tackling them in a more thorough or sustained way, he must also
be lauded for writing a book that raises them. |
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Yet Allen's failure to consider any
of these broader questions narrows the book in both scope and ambition
and restricts its potential audience as well. These limitations,
though, are particularly understandable given how little attention
the history of the law of evidence has received. Allen provides
an able and enlightening contribution to an under-researched area,
and his book should certainly be of interest to those concerned
with the history of the law of evidence, as well as to those concerned
with Jeremy Bentham or Victorian legislative processes. |
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Jennifer L. Mnookin
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University of Virginia Law Schoo
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