From the perspective of the 21st Century, we might be forgiven for taking the state of aff airs for granted. But 200 years ago, people (with a little ‘p’) weren’t always People (with a capital ‘P’), when it came to the law. Indeed, the law has had to change substantially, and more than just a few times since then, for the likes of many of us to be able to vote, or to own property or, indeed, to not be someone’s property.

It came about in part because some People (most of them with a capital ‘P’) began to formulate and organise a collection of new ideas about people (with a little ‘p’), which called into question whether the whole ‘p’ thing really made sense at all. Rather than the traditional collection of writhing masses, without much in the way of discrete rights or interests, philosophers of the enlightenment began to argue that even quite ordinary people are individuals deserving of some basic respect and dignity. It took a while, but eventually this notion gathered steam, and here we are today, perhaps still (in some cases) the great unwashed – but with the law on our side.

It needs to be stressed that the agents of this change would not all necessarily be comfortable with all the fruits of their labours. Indeed, some of them might be quietly horrifi ed if they knew, for example, just who is allowed to vote these days. But many of them have, nonetheless, gained the status of heroes for recognising the need for reform, and having had the courage to follow it through.

Indeed, a few names probably spring to mind as you read this. Among them might be people who helped put an end to slavery, or extended the vote beyond the scope of a particular social status, or religious affi liation, or gender. The list might include the names of people who helped put an end to the segregation of races, or called for the dissolution of serfdom, or helped secure Indigenous Australians a right to vote and stand for Parliament.

In any case, given the opportunity to examine the names on your list, there is a fair chance that Peter Burdon is not one of them. At least, not yet.

I hope you are comfortable, because, in a few moments, things might begin to get a little more – unexpected.

That’s because, if you are anything like me, the list of things we have spoken about so far seems, well, fairly obvious. It’s partly the benefi t of hindsight, of course – perhaps supported, if you are a thoughtful kind of person, by some carefully considered philosophical values or beliefs. There is a natural tendency to think that we might have elbowed our way alongside the Suff ragettes, or quietly sat down with Gandhi – if we had been there, if we had known.

And that’s where Peter comes in, and quietly points out that this is what we always tend to think, every time it happens. We just don’t ever seem to notice that we are there, and that we do know, while it’s happening all around us.

A F A C U LT Y O F T H E P R O F E S S I O N SR E S E A R C H P R O F I L E

Peter Burdonpeople are People too, you know

Take, for example, the environment. Or, to put it perhaps a little more forthrightly, the Earth, and Everything In It. It is fair to say that Peter, himself, does not mind the more forthright way. Indeed, this is one of the areas of law and society which interests him the most.

‘Can our law work to protect the environment, or will it continue to facilitate it’s destruction?’, he asks.

We remember those heroes of the enlightenment, and their interests in human rights and dignity. But we might also refl ect that many of them held fi rm convictions that it did not stop there. Their philosophy and beliefs frequently led them to the conclusion that they were part of something much larger than humanity. Humanism, oddly enough, opened the possibility of us being beyond merely human – and instead being earthlings.

Many of our heroes, for example, were not only opposed to slavery, but also to vivisection, or other forms of cruelty to animals. Over the course of the years, this has translated into laws which govern the treatment of animals – especially animals which we use as resources. As a result, our domesticated animal friends are now, at least to some degree, hedged about by laws which govern how we may breed, treat or use them.

In more recent times, we have seen the emergence of heritage laws, which serve to protect particular regions of natural beauty, or areas of signifi cant ecological uniqueness, including, in some cases, individual trees. It is true to say, though, that in the face of strong social or economic pressure, these laws can give way, and we might no longer recognise the protections which many people envisaged, or hoped might be provided.

It is also true to say that heritage laws are essentially human-centred. They do not acknowledge any inherent rights for those regions of natural beauty, or areas of signifi cant ecological uniqueness, or a particular old tree.

But if we fast forward another 200 hundred years, some people see a future where the franchise of inalienable rights might have been further extended to the benefi t of the world as a whole. To a time

where we will perhaps have incorporated the very fabric of nature into a legal sytem which recognises certain fundamental rights to dignity and fair treatment.

It might be surprising, but this very thought is well-underway in spheres of research and philosophical investigation. The concept is often referred to as ‘Earth Jurisprudence’, or even, ‘Wild Law’. As a law researcher, Peter is interested in its legal implications for societies and their environments.

So is this a natural continuum of moral philosophy and legal instruments, or must we pause before we take the matter too far, and elect a forest to Parliament, or get sued by a hedgehog?

‘The legal recognition of nature’s rights is a novel but potentially important step toward an ecologically sustainable human presence on Earth,’ Peter explains, ‘when the legal standing of an entity shifts, so too does our understanding of it. Throughout history, we have seen a continual evolution in the types of things that can be owned, who was considered capable of ownership and the meaning of ownership itself.’

One of the subjects of Peter’s research, Professor Christopher Stone – a pioneer of earth jurisprudence – put it this way, ‘throughout legal history, each successive extension of rights to some new entity has been, thereto, a bit unthinkable ... each time there is a movement to confer rights onto some new ‘entity’, the proposal is bound to sound odd or frightening or laughable.’

But this need not necessarily be the frightening concept it might at fi rst seem. As Peter points out, ‘Achieving the delicate balance between human use and access to nature and its rights would be key.’

In the meantime, it is clear that public sentiment at least acknowledges some need for environmental protection to be enshrined in law, and yet evidence continues to point to an ever-worsening situation, suggesting that current measures fail to meet this need.

Peter’s research focuses on this type of situation – where there is a disconnect between law, and things which many people, perhaps even most people,

would consider to be sensible, or important, or even essential.

He is interested in whether law is something which should be fought against under such circumstances, or whether it is something which can be changed, and put to use by us newly enfranchised people, who now have it at our disposal.

Peter explains this in terms of a Democratic Defi cit – the idea that there can be a gap between the values a society holds, and the laws which govern it.

For some reason, there appears to be a certain toughness, even immutability, to human rule-making, which makes it much harder to change laws than one might think – even when such changes might appear to be absolutely imperative, or fundamental to dignity, or essential for wellbeing, or just plain right.

Of course, everybody’s idea of what is right varies. That’s true and, of course, extremely important. But it is also true, and worth realising, that our earlier list is not really very controversial anymore. It might not be fi nished, it might not be perfect, but there are certainly not mobs of people on the steps of Parliament calling for the abolition of universal suff rage.

It turns out that the idea of universal suff rage was a value held within society, at least to some degree, long before it came into law. Before it was enacted, it was believed, and held to be an important idea. It was talked about, and hoped for. It was a little frightening (who knows what might happen when uneducated people, or even women, get to vote), but it was also strangely quite right, even while it wasn’t yet real.

So now we have the law on our side, what are we going to do with it? Are we going to just feel good about what has changed already, or start to think about what needs to change in the future? Are we going to take a chance that what we believe should be refl ected in our laws, or are we too afraid that something might go wrong, and open the fl oodgates to calamity?

According to Peter, each and every one of us could be a name on that list of people who bridged the gap between what the law is, and what it should be.

To meet more Faculty of the Professions researchers, please visit: adelaide.edu.au/professions/research/

If you would like to contact Peter for more information about his research,please email peter.d.burdon@adelaide.edu.au