 We have two speakers in this session, and I'm going to introduce first Professor Cheryl Saunders. She scarcely needs an introduction. Emeritus Professor at the University of Melbourne, and well known to all of us as a leading scholar particularly in the field of comparative public law. Cheryl. Thank you Lord Reid, and can I begin by saying what a pleasure it is to be involved in this second Cambridge Public Law conference, and to give my thanks to the conveners for having organised this conference and in fact taken this initiative and carried it through in such a splendid way. The subject of my presentation is transplants in public law, a subject that turns out to be so broad that only a very small part of it can be dealt with in 20 minutes. Despite many criticisms of the metaphor of transplants, I'm deliberately using that terminology. The term still has some currency in the literature, in any way the alternatives are open to similar objections. But I use the term broadly to cover any proposal to adopt any aspect of public law for one jurisdiction from another. The only qualification I use for my own present purposes is that the proposal must be relatively deliberate and the aspect of public law that is transplanted relatively concrete. I had multiple reasons for choosing the topic. Most obviously I thought it would fit nicely with the conference theme and that turned out to be true. But more substantively, while there is a considerable literature on transplants in private law, the theme is much less developed in the context of public law. In any event, globalisation has sufficiently changed the environment in which transplants occur to justify revisiting the subject. And there are aspects of contemporary theory and practice in relation to transplants which potentially seem to me to be a cause for concern. So let me begin by setting the scene. There are divisions in the literature on transplants in private law over the extent to which law is embedded in the societies that it serves. Those on what inelegantly has been described as the transferist side point to the volume of transplants that have occurred over time. They tend to downplay the relevance of the context from which a transplant is taken, while accepting that the subject matter inevitably will be altered in its new context. Historically it seems to me that this view also assumed inbuilt constraints on the transplants that will be attempted, shaped by, for example, language and the tendency of legal elites to draw from other legal systems that are relatively familiar. Those opposed to this view emphasise the significance of law in context and deny that adoption of a formal legal form is a transplant of anything worth being called law at all. The literature on transplants typically is not geared to public law. In part this is because whatever the position with private law, public law is assumed to be intertwined with the context of the state in which it is embedded. Nevertheless transplants are as familiar a feature in the development of public as a private law. Absorbing the implications of this reality is complicated however by the current phase of globalisation and that in several ways. In some respects globalisation weakens the bonds between public law and the state. Globalisation is responsible for a degree of convergence of both legal systems and of local cultures. But the impact of both these developments is contested. Nevertheless on any view globalisation as it presently operates is characterised by a veritable tsunami of transplants including in public law. This is driven in part by the information revolution in its various manifestations. Ready access to information about almost any system at any time in turn has broken down some of the natural barriers to the choice of transplants. The phenomenon has attracted particular attention in constitution making and countries in transition where a bevy of international advisers are a catalyst for transplants sometimes of an incongru as kind. But the proliferation of transplants is by no means confined to developing countries and affects public law elsewhere as well. One response to this new reality is Gunter Frankenberg's Ikea theory of constitutional transfers. As the name implies the metaphor on which Frankenberg draws is the global dissemination of pre-packaged standardised furniture in a form that requires assembly by a purchaser at home. The metaphor comes complete with reference to missing screws. Frankenberg sketches a multi-stage process of constitutional transfer in which a legal artefact is taken from its source, stripped of contextual complications, placed on a virtual global shelf and taken down by a consumer for use elsewhere where recontextualisation occurs. While Frankenberg's theory is essentially descriptive others have given it more normative content. Ralph Michaels, for example, has suggested that one size fits all maybe the best we can do and that increasing convergence of cultures makes a new formalism possible in any event. And so the parameters are set. The Ikea theory is still something of a caricature although not to the extent that one might hope. Transplants are commonplace, sometimes with scant attention to jurisdiction or difference. For pragmatists whether this matters depends on the outcomes. Anecdotally these are patchy although opinions differ on where the balance of advantage lies. For theorists whether a contextual transplants are a cause for concern depends also on the accuracy of claims for convergence of systems and cultures on which the jury is still out. For both the answer may depend on whether it's possible to do better. In my paper I argue that context still matters for transplants in public law at three key decision points. When a matter for potential transfer is identified or the point of choice, when a transplant is absorbed into a new jurisdiction or the point of perception and in considering whether the subject matter needs to be adapted in any way before a transplant occurs. For the purposes of the presentation I'll deal only with the first two of these. The literature on transplants is ambivalent about the need to consider the context of the jurisdiction from which a transplant will be drawn. In a sense this is convenient because adequate understanding also is difficult particularly for an outsider although this also is made more feasible by the incidents of globalisation. The case for paying some attention to context at this point seems compelling however. Information about the context of the source of a transplant may be essential for an evaluation of the choice. Evaluation might involve most obviously a decision about the suitability of the choice in the first place but also a decision about the adjustments that might need to be made to the original subject matter or a decision about whether other linked elements need to be transplanted as well or if not how their omission might be handled. There's no shortage of examples of potential transplants to illustrate the significance of understanding the context from which a transplant derives and I give quite a number in the paper. One of those to which I refer without fully developing it is the Chevron doctrine of judicial deference. Deference on the part of courts in statutory interpretation is often portrayed as an obvious good although whether this is so depends on context too. The Chevron label offers an additional cachet but Chevron itself deals with deference towards an agency interpretation through rulemaking procedures a process that takes place in the United States to the extent and in a manner that's not replicated elsewhere. This objection might be overcome by pointing to other Supreme Court doctrines supporting deference to agency interpretations made in other ways but at this point another potentially more interesting question arises about the relevance of the separation of powers, United States style to the suitability of deference to agency interpretations of statutes as a transplant into Westminster style parliamentary settings. Checks and balances operate differently in these two systems. The lines of political accountability are differently configured. Assumptions about what the legislature is likely to have intended or might be deemed to have intended are not the same. Transplanting deference to agency interpretations of legislation from the United States to for example Australia without this contextual understanding would not only seem to rest on a false premise about some of the rationales for the doctrine but would almost certainly further consolidate the hegemony of the executive branch in a way that's not possible in the United States at least without further adjustment. In the written paper I use yet another example of a specialist constitutional court in order to illustrate the usefulness of understanding the immediate source from which a transplant derives. I was initially prompted to do so by a proposal that seemed to attract some attention here earlier this year to establish a constitutional court apparently as a bulwark against European judicial encroachment arguably emulating the German constitutional court. The institution of a constitutional court is a useful example for present purposes in any event however because it's beginning to appear on the international constitutional designer list of measures that constitute international best practice. But constitutional courts evolve to meet particular needs in civil law jurisdictions. They're based on particular assumptions that don't apply in common law systems about the roles of both ordinary and constitutional judges and about the range of sources of law. As it is even in a civil law system constitutional courts encounter difficulties over their relationship with ordinary courts arising out of amongst other things the difficulty of drawing a line between constitutional and other legal questions. These difficulties are greater still in a common law setting. They can be managed as the example of South Africa shows but to manage them it's necessary to be aware of them. The proposal for a constitutional court in the UK was an easy target for criticism given the difficulty of defining the British constitution and the weakness of the case for change. More significantly however for present purposes there was no sign at least to me that his proponents had taken into account either the distinctive features of the German context that contributed to the result that apparently they admired or to the implications for the British system or a British legal system of attempting to segregate one category of legal questions in that way. By contrast on any view local context is accepted as relevant at the point of reception of a transplant into a new jurisdiction. It's generally assumed moreover that contextual understanding is relatively straightforward because the decision makers are insiders with all the knowledge that implies. The challenge may be more complicated than this however in a variety of ways. First it's not always the case that the decision makers are insiders. It's often so for example that the international advisers to constitution making in countries in transition have very little local contextual understanding. But secondly even in the more usual case where decisions to adopt a transplant are locally made there may be disagreement about what local context involves. The current debate in Australia about the term to structured proportionality offers an example. The proportionality test which Chief Justice French described the other day that was accepted by the McCloy majority was adapted to what they perceived and argued to be Australian conditions in the light of considerable understanding of the origins of proportionality in Germany and elsewhere. And more recently in the Murphy decision two members of that majority defended the test against the perception of and I can't risk quoting it again some exotic jurisprudential pest destructive of the delicate ecology of Australian public law. But at least one dissentient Justice Gagler contests the suitability of proportionality for the Australian context. Now admittedly his views may be driven in part by concern that the McCloy constraints on the doctrine will erode over time leaving Australia with a proportionality principle that is inappropriately as he says structured prescriptive and open ended. But underlying this critique it's possible to detect two possibly related views about context. One is that constitutional rights protection in Australia has limited systemic purposes for which an all purpose proportionality test developed for other purposes is not appropriate. And a possible second points to the demands of common law legal reasoning which Sir Anthony Mason has recently argued, has recently described as better served by categorisation allowing for different standards of scrutiny for different kinds of cases along the United States lines. This debate is likely to continue I suspect one can only say watch this space but for present purposes it's useful showing both the potential for disagreement about what local context requires and the depth at which contextual features may lie. A third potential complication of the point at which a transplant is received is that relevant aspects of context may be overlooked or underplay. The perception of statutory bills of rights into my home state of Victoria offers an example. Australian resistance to formal legal rights protection appears to be a product of its inheritance of Westminster style responsible government as this has evolved in Australia. The adoption of statutory bills of rights in New Zealand and the United Kingdom thus attracted considerable interest because they preserved the ultimate authority of parliament that appeared to give the instruments more teeth than ordinary statutes. When the political opportunity arose therefore a charter of human rights and responsibilities was enacted by the Victorian Parliament drawing largely on the United Kingdom precedent but with New Zealand and Canadian influences. Of course there are all sorts of relevant contextual differences that potentially require consideration for this purpose. But one of these was the rigid constitutional framework for lawmaking in Australia at both Commonwealth and state levels which is in stark contrast to the position and the jurisdictions from which the transplant was drawn. At the time public and political discourse at least suggested to me that this wasn't taken seriously enough in the enthusiasm for adopting a model that had worked so successfully in jurisdictions elsewhere. But once the charter was in operation the relevance of the constitutional framework became apparent. A series of constitutional questions about the charter ultimately came before the High Court in the still-leading case of Momsilifage. While the charter narrowly survived challenges to its validity the effect of the reasoning in that case contributed to a variety of factors that have inhibited the impact of the charter on Victorian law and practice. The interpretation section was read down, its relationship to the limitation clause was left uncertain and the power to make declarations was shown to have patchy operation at best. The example of the Victorian charter serves to make one other point about the challenges that arise at the point of perception of a transplant. Like any other innovation in a system of public law if the effectiveness of a transplant requires attention to implementation implementation can encompass anything from technical legal change to adjustment of culture. Implementation of the charter was taken very seriously in Victoria including through the sensitisation of Victorian judges to the kind of issues that might come before the courts in charter adjudication. But there were limits to what could be done for the purposes of implementation in a sub-national jurisdiction in a larger federal order in which only one other small jurisdiction had an instrument of this kind. Thus, for example, the charter has been overridden for inter-governmental schemes to which Victoria is the party in collaboration with other jurisdictions not operating under rights constraints. In the end, moreover, as we've seen, the charter fell to be interpreted by the High Court as the apex court for the whole of Australia with responsibilities and preoccupations of its own. These include the maintenance of a single common law of which the principles of statutory interpretation are part and the application to the whole of Australia of a strict constitutional separation of judicial power on which some Australian checks and balances depend. So, with hindsight, perhaps it was not to be expected that the High Court would come positively to the party in the implementation of a measure that had the potential to diversify Australian law and practice and which lay at the innovative edge of the Australian constitutional framework. So, let me make one disclaimer and one remark by way of conclusion. The disclaimer is this. My position in this paper should not be taken as opposition to transplants or in favour of national exceptionalism of an unthinking kind. On the contrary, in my view, the story of public law transplants is a large and exciting part of the story of the evolution of systems of public law. Transplants have contributed to their dynamism and their capacity for continuing creative change. Rather, my opposition is to practices and theories that encourage transplants divorced from considerations of relevant context. And the examples I have used and used in the paper are intended to suggest what consideration of context might involve. So, it remains only to ask how the unity of the common law of common law public law fits with all this if unity refers to public law in different common law jurisdictions. Relevantly for present purposes, the common law spread around the world with very little reference to context. The initial result was considerable unity, at least on the surface. But once imperial controls were removed, unity gave way to national systems of common law, the diversification of which continues. And further change can be expected, both through the impact of international law, which is entering common law legal systems at different speeds, and through transplants from outside the common law world. Nevertheless, as the proceedings of the conference show, a form of unity also persists. This includes, but is not necessarily confined to, the assumptions, concepts and procedures on which the common law tradition depends. Given the diversification, these do not preclude the need for consideration of context in decision making about transplants, even between common law jurisdictions. But they make it significantly easier to understand some of the more elusive aspects of context on which the public law of each jurisdiction is built. Thank you. I remember as a first year undergraduate being taught by Alan Watson, just after he had published his book, Legal Transplants, and reading it. And I don't think any of us imagined at the time, 40 odd years later, it would prove to be such an enduring metaphor. Very interesting. Our second paper, superficially, is quite different in its subject matter. But I think there are underlying points of convergence which we may bring out later in discussion. It's been written by Professor Eileen Macargue, Professor of Public Law University of Strach Tide, whose work has focused particularly on constitutional and administrative law within the UK and specifically in Scotland. Eileen. Thank you, Lord Reid. I'm delighted to have been invited to this conference, not least because the theme was one which immediately resonated with me, though I think possibly in a slightly different way to many of the other contributors. For quite a long time, I've been interested in the internal diversity of the UK's constitutional order. Ten years ago, I co-edited a book about the distinctive features of public law in Scotland as compared with elsewhere in the UK. Over the past four years, I've been heavily involved in debates around the Scottish independence referendum which took place two years ago this weekend as the explanation for why I didn't come to the last conference. I've been involved in debates around that referendum and the aftermath. Something that struck me very forcibly in that referendum was the divergence in the constitutional conversations that were taking place around the UK. While in Scotland we were having a very intense and vibrant debate about independence or alternatives to independence, people elsewhere in the UK to our chagran were frankly not very interested in that debate. England, Wales, Northern Ireland were having constitutional conversations and we in Scotland were frankly not that much interested in them either. Since 2014, that sense of constitutional divergence has increased. There have been important developments in the devolution arrangements for Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland as well as for England, each of which has been notably different from the others. We've also seen the emergence of major territorial quievedges across cross-cutting constitutional issues. The proposal to replace the Human Rights Act with the British Bill of Rights has met a strong opposition in Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland, and most dramatically, of course, the EU referendum produced very different results across the UK. A majority to leave the EU in England and Wales, but stronger majorities to remain in Northern Ireland and especially in Scotland. Territorial divergence is nothing new in the UK. There have been institutional and doctrinal differences in Scotland ever since the Union of 1707 and very significant differences in the governance of Northern Ireland since the 1920s. But I think there is a sense that divergence has increased in important ways in recent years and that this has become a problem. So just as territorial diversity has increased, so too has a concern for constitutional unity. So the question, in other words, of what mechanisms exist to bind the state together in the face of territorial divergence. Again, it's not an entirely new concern, but it is one which has taken on a particular urgency since 2014 given the constitutional shock to the system that was delivered by the much narrower than expected no vote in the independence referendum. So since 2014, various commentators and organisations have been calling for a more comprehensive reform of the territorial constitution to move it in a more explicitly federal direction. In other words, the concern has been to balance the focus on self-rule through devolution with greater attention to mechanisms for shared rule. Various reform proposals have been made including institutional reforms to improve inter-governmental relations, to enhance territorial representation in UK decision-making, to reduce territorial asymmetry. There have also been proposals for the articulation of common values and common purposes and proposals even for the establishment of a kind of explicit shared constitutional framework to empower and constrain both UK and global government. So the question that I seek to answer in my paper is whether there is indeed a need for greater unity in the UK's territorial constitution. But the major focus of my discussion is methodological. In other words, how do we go about assessing the nature and degree of constitutional unity that's required? In the paper I addressed this from four perspectives, empirical, conceptual, normative and finally political. And I'm going to try and say something briefly about each of these perspectives in turn. Now I start with the empirical perspective not because I am suggesting that this can tell us where we ought to strike the balance between unity and diversity, but rather because it can tell us something important about the nature and degree of diversity that has historically existed in the UK and what, if anything, has changed that might make it more problematic than it's been in the past. In the paper I distinguished three dimensions of difference, institutional diversity, diversity of constitutional values and finally differences in how the state itself is understood. I suggest that in each of these areas, although there are long standing differences, there have been either changes in the nature and extent or else changes in the perception of their importance. So institutional diversity is the most pronounced. As is very well known, the UK has a highly asymmetric form of territorial governance. There are differences both in the extent to which different territories are able to govern themselves and in the models through which they do so. Institutional diversity is nothing new, but it has become more extensive and crucially, I think, more visible since the devolution programme of the late 1990s, which has had a much more significant constitutional impact than the previous experience of devolution in Northern Ireland earlier in the 20th century. What's most significant about devolution, I think, is the creation of new representative institutions and I think that that has had three important effects. Firstly, it's significantly enhanced political pluralisation within the UK, sub-state political identities have strengthened, political behaviour has increasingly diverged and this has enabled a whole range of other policy, institutional and political differences to emerge. Secondly, territorial divergence, particularly over the past few years, has increasingly spilled over from the devolved level to become an important dimension of political decision making in general, even where decisions are formally reserved to the UK level. We've seen this not only on big issues like human rights reform or Brexit, but also on more mundane issues like trade union reform and immigration, where the Scottish government in particular but also to a lesser extent the Welsh government have really been pushing at the boundaries of the principle of territorial consent. Finally, the anomalies arising from asymmetric devolution have also become more visible and therefore harder to ignore. Territorial asymmetries have tended to produce resentment, which has fuelled demand for further changes in a way which further entrenched territorial difference. There was a very explicit example of this immediately after the independence referendum when David Cameron said, Scotland having voted no, you can get as a consolation prize, you can get some more devolution, but this means we really have to address the English question, and this led to the introduction of the delightfully named evil English votes for English law. So, that's institutional diversity. Diversity of constitutional values has been most pronounced in relation to Northern Ireland, where they have for decades been very important differences both in the nature and quality of democracy and in the extent of respect for human rights. The tendency in the rest of the UK, however, has been to treat Northern Ireland essentially as an aberration. These kind of value differences are something explained by the peculiar political problems of Northern Ireland. In recent years, though, the differences have become more difficult to ignore, and one thing that the British Bill of Rights debate has really brought home is the very different constitutional significance and indeed the different constitutional basis of human rights protection in Northern Ireland. As I've said, human rights reform has also been opposed in Wales and Scotland, and although it doesn't have the same constitutional resonance, I think it is more than simply a question of party political differences. I think it's also partly a question of different political cultures. So, in Scotland, for instance, it's not just that the SNP which controls the Scottish Government is committed to the maintenance and indeed the extension of human rights protection, but rather that anti-human rights sentiment is just not a prominent feature of public debate at all. Finally, there are differences in the way in which the state is understood or theorised. Formally, the UK is a unitary state with a single source of sovereignty located in the Westminster Parliament. That theory of the state has come under significant pressure in recent years, but politically at least I would suggest it is alive and well and that is something that the Brexit vote quite vividly demonstrates. But it's also a theory of the state that is internally contested. In Scotland there is an alternative constitutional tradition, some say an invented tradition like many of our other traditions, but nevertheless a tradition, which sees the UK not as a unitary state, but rather as a union state, which means essentially that the existence of the state depends upon the consent of the constituent parts and that sovereignty resides not in Westminster, but rather with the peoples of the constituent parts. That's a theory of the state which has received quite a lot of symbolic recognition over the years without quite managing to dislodge parliamentary sovereignty, but I think again it's become much more difficult to ignore precisely because of the independence referendum, which was a very vivid illustration of the popular sovereignty of the Scottish people. The unitary conception of the state is also challenged from Northern Ireland, which essentially has a transnational constitution founded upon an international treaty, a good Friday agreement, and which involves significant elements of shared sovereignty across the Irish border. And again the significance of that difference has been thrust to prominence by Brexit and the threat of human rights reform, both of which are incompatible with the terms and spirits of the good Friday agreement. So given that level of constitutional diversity, how do we go about deciding whether or not it's too much? The first perspective we might adopt is a conceptual one. So in other words are the conceptual limits to the amount of diversity that can be accommodated within a single state. There's an important theoretical debate here between constitutional monists and constitutional pluralists, which thankfully I don't have enough time to go into. But suffice it to say that I am inclined to accept the monist position. In other words that whilst there may be significant internal pluralism within a constitutional order, this has to be framed by some basic commonality which creates order out of diversity. That said, I don't think that conceptual argument takes very far in deciding how much unity is required or what forms of unity are required. And I'd enter two important conceptual caveats. The first is the point that diversity is not the same as disunity. Diversity and disunity are not the same thing. What matters in other words is not the achievement of homogeneity but rather the avoidance of conflict. So that's point one. Secondly, it is possible that there can be mutual commitment to a constitutional order yet disagreement on what exactly that order is. So there may be significant interpretive conflicts which actually don't necessarily need to be resolved. Again the key is to avoid situations in which those different interpretations might become important in practice. What this tells us I think is that whilst we may think that what is most problematic are divergent values and above all divergent theories of the state actually what might be most important are our institutional arrangements and the extent to which these allow us to successfully avoid or manage conflict. That said there might be other reasons why we're concerned about diversity and we wish to promote homogeneity. So the third perspective I address in the paper is a normative one. There might be normative reasons why you want to identify minimum standards to be complied with throughout the state or issues that must be decided in common or common purposes to guide the allocation and regulation of decision making. And these kind of normative arguments are actually quite a prominent feature of recent reform proposals. The major difficulty I think with these kind of arguments though is to identify appropriate normative standards. What you tend to get in the concrete proposals is either the invocation of very abstract values democracy, the rule of law, human rights which frankly are not all that much use in provising constitutional glue in the specific UK context. But alternatively where there is an attempt to identify specifically British values and purposes or British interpretations of these general values then the difficulty is to do so in a way which is both non-contentious and historically authentic. The problem is that the UK's constitution has never been a teleological one. The purpose of the United Kingdom has never been fixed and the protean and evolving nature of the constitution has been a significant source of its strength. So I think here in paradoxically you can say that this attempt to kind of constitutionalise British values or British purposes is in itself actually an important sense, un British. It also seems to me to be deeply naive to assume that the articulation of common principles will have any kind of cohesive effect. It seems to me to ignore the basic truth which underpins the British preference for political rather than legal constitutionalism that if the political conditions for solidarity across the union are not present then an abstract statement of constitutional principles really isn't going to fill void. So that brings me finally to the political perspective and my argument in the paper is that the problem of territorial diversity in the UK is essentially a political problem. I argue that it's political in two senses. Firstly that constitutional divergence is a symptom of and not merely the cause of political fragmentation across the UK. The demand for devolution was at least in part and at this point I defer to the experts on Welsh and the Irish devolution in the audience I know that the demand for devolution was complex and I know that there's territorial divergence caveat, caveat but having said that I think at least in part is a response to increasing political divergence and the decline of a sense of common purpose and I make the point in the paper that this is not just the result of political change in the devolved nations and regions but actually it's also the product of behaviour by successive UK governments and I think the human rights reform at Brexit are really good illustrations of a way in which common constitutional commitments can be undermined from the centre just as much as they can be from the peripheries. The second way in which the problem is political is that I think territorial conflict has been exacerbated by the lack of what some people refer to as a federal spirit at the centre of the constitution which I think is a consequence of the a consequence of the double asymmetry of devolution by which I mean the lack of separate representative institutions for England so the centre and English government are the same thing but also the failure to reconfigure the central state in response to devolution. The crude assumption often seems to be that devolution has kind of solved the problem of territorial difference and if it hasn't solved the problem the answer is more devolution. So devolution solved the problem and therefore if matters are reserved to the centre they can unprobably be decided according to a UK-wide majority not withstanding the overwhelming numerical dominance of England. It's that kind of crude majoritarianism which is quite clearly produced the territorial dimension of the problem of Brexit a problem which I don't think can be resolved on dates the territorial differences and the result. So if the problem of territorial divergence is essentially political then it seems to me that it also requires a political solution. In other words, a solution which promotes political inclusion rather than which seeks to impose uniformity. That would mean institutional reform I think to address the double asymmetries of devolution to deliver meaningful self-government for England along with reform of the central state apparatus to give due recognition to territorial diversity and enable the better management and if possible the avoidance of territorial conflict. Unfortunately I recognise that there are very significant obstacles to reforms of this kind. The basic asymmetry of the state both in terms of its population and its historical development makes attempts to federalise the state to any significant degree really very problematic indeed. And nor do I see, and especially not now nor do I see any political appetite for written branch reform of central state institutions. So in conclusion I think that in answer to my own question I think that there is a need for greater unity in the UK's territorial constitution but I'm pretty pessimistic that appropriate solutions can actually be delivered in practice. Thank you.