Category Archives: international law

All-Star Superman II: The Trial of Lex Luthor

As we previously discussed, Lex Luthor is arrested and put on trial for his actions which result in the death of Superman. In the first issue of All-Star Superman, the arresting officer says that the warrant is for “attempted murder and crimes against humanity.” In issue 5, we see the conclusion of the actual trial, and it seems that at some point the attempted murder charge was seemingly dropped, as when the judge hands down the verdict, he says “Guilty on all counts, of crimes against humanity.”

This is interesting, because there isn’t actually indication of what court we’re in, and “crimes against humanity” aren’t actually crimes in most jurisdictions, in part because the term is at least as much a political term as it is an actual offense. Be that as it may, you will not find “crimes against humanity” listed in any criminal code in the US, state or federal (Well, technically it’s a crime in Puerto Rico (a first degree felony!), so maybe Luthor got busted while returning to his vacation home in San Juan, but we doubt it.). So right off the bat, there’s something we need to talk about. More than that, there’s also the question of what court, if any, would have jurisdiction over such charges. Lastly, we’ll look more generally at the issue of prosecuting supervillains, which as we’ll see is far from simple. Continue reading

Daredevil #5

We last wrote about Daredevil back in September, when we discussed the story of Austin Cao, a blind translator who overheard some Latverians talking at the investment firm where he worked—and got fired for his trouble.  In Daredevil #5 we learn just what it was the Latverians were up to.

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Holy Terror

Frank Miller’s latest work, Holy Terror (not to be confused with Batman: Holy Terror) is… problematic. We’ll leave aside the fact that it is self-described propaganda with perhaps the least nuanced view of Islamic terrorism on record. Other people have covered that.

And we’re not even talking about the things which the book knows are illegal, e.g. having the police commissioner assassinated or shooting down medevac choppers with heat-seeking missiles. Remember, where a story knows something is illegal and says so, we basically give it a pass.

No, what’s really problematic for our purposes here is the fact that we’ve got individual citizens engaging in not just vigilante justice, which is a problem for pretty much all comic books which involve superheroes, but vigilante geopolitics, which is actually kind of unusual. Sure, politics exist in other comics stories, e.g. the whole Genosha storyline, the possibility of war with Atlantis or the Inhumans (or both at once), the emergency of Wakanda on the world scene, and Reed Richards’s (inadvertent?) conquest of Latveria. But most of those involve superheroes dealing with supervillains or the unique problems caused by superpowers or the existence of beings like Mutants. What we don’t usually see, and indeed, what several stories have actually gone to fairly great lengths to avoid, is superheroes—or, at least, masked adventurers—from intervening on their own authority into mundane politics.

It’s worth mentioning that Captain America and Dr. Manhattan don’t count, as both of them were acting on behalf of sovereign governments in their respective stories. What we’re talking about here is a masked adventurer essentially inserting themselves into an otherwise mundane geopolitical situation and pursuing their own agenda. This is problematic for two reasons.

First, though it goes without saying that the nation against whom a superhero is fighting is likely to be kind of upset, so is the nation who purportedly benefits. In one of the one-off stories in Action Comics #900, Superman complains that he’s tired of his every action being construed as part of US foreign policy. But you know what? The State Department was probably just as pissed about that! Here they are, trying to present something like a coherent face to the world, a unified and consistent policy position, and Superman’s running all over the place doing Bob-only-knows what, only to have his actions, over which the US government has absolutely zero control, interpreted as representing the American take on a particular event. So when he goes and maybe violates Iran’s sovereignty, Tehran gets pissed at Washington, which can’t even promise that it won’t happen again.  One of the problems with having powerful people running around who aren’t accountable to voters is that the people who are accountable to voters are likely to wind up with the responsibility for it. This is bad for representative governments, as it makes it inestimably harder for them to respond to world events.

This is basically what Fixer and Natalie are doing here. They decide they’re going to save Empire City on their own, independent of the state forces which are responsible for that job. Sure, Miller makes it seem like only they can do it, because the government is some undesirable combination of corrupt and incompetent, but the proposed solution basically makes it impossible for an honest, competent government to exist, so even if we were to admit that ends can justify means, these ends don’t.

Second, having loose cannons with apparent sovereign authority is really, really bad for geopolitical stability. One of the biggest concerns in the Persian Gulf right now is that junior officers in Iran’s Revolutionary Guard Corps Navy, in command of small gunboats, might inadvertently—or deliberately—set off a conflict which could escalate out of control without general officers on either side having any say in the matter. In this story, Fixer winds up doing… something to a huge, Saudi-funded mosque in downtown Empire City. Not entirely clear what, but it’s probably biological and definitely No Fun At All. It’s not totally clear whether it’s actually an embassy, which would raise issues we’ve talked about earlier, but even if it isn’t, we’re still likely looking at the deaths of dozens if not hundreds of Saudis and just Muslims in general who were on site. Even if this isn’t an actual act of war, it’s still going to be a major diplomatic incident, involving countries with which the State Department doesn’t really need anything else going on at the moment. We’ve got two major military operations ongoing in the Middle East, both of which require significant cooperation from neighboring governments. If they decide to protest our actions by limiting access to their airspace, even temporarily, that’s just going to suck. But even if the wars were over, the fact that OPEC hasn’t declared an oil embargo recently doesn’t mean they couldn’t, and the last time that happened was pretty terrible all around.

So, in general, the existence of masked adventurers running around fighting crime on the domestic front is going to be hard enough for governments to deal with, and even superheroes taking care of superhero-related international crises is potentially manageable, but masked adventurers intervening in otherwise-mundane political events? Really, really problematic.

Of course, the main problems with Holy Terror is that it’s boring and hard to read. So consider this something less than a ringing endorsement.

The Trial of Captain America, Part 2

Back in June we discussed some of the legal and ethical issues presented in The Trial of Captain America.  We also promised to follow-up with another post, since there were more issues to talk about.  It’s a little belated, but here we go.  Spoilers ahead for those who haven’t read the series.

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Torchwood: Miracle Day Episode 1

(Update: we have discovered  a case on point for one of the issues raised in the post.  Check out section II of the post for more.)

Torchwood: Miracle Day is the fourth “season” of the British sci-fi series Torchwood, itself a 2006 spin-off of the ever-popular Doctor Who revival. The basic premise is that, all of a sudden, people stop dying. This is not as much fun as it sounds.

Interestingly enough for the purposes of Law and the Multiverse, the series so far has more than its fair share of legal issues. So we’re going to take a look at each episode as it comes out. We’ll leave reviews of the episodes for others, as always, but hope to be your source for legal analysis for the series. Spoilers will follow. You have been warned. Continue reading

Marvel Civil War V: International and Interplanetary Law

We’re nearing the end of our series on Marvel’s Civil War event. This time we’re talking about the fact that the conflict spills outside of US territory and implicates aspects of international law even within US borders.

I. Extraterritorial Conflicts

A. Foreign Nationals

As in the real world, the United States in Earth-616 is watched fairly closely by other countries as something of a weather vane for world events. So when the federal government passed the SHRA, all eyes were keenly fixed on the US to see how that was going to play out, not only in the international superhuman community, but by foreign governments. Things get really interesting where the two overlap, such as with Dr. Doom and T’Challa.

For starters though, the writers seem largely cognizant of the fact that the SHRA’s effect outside of the US is pretty limited. When Ben Grimm realizes that he can’t support either side of the conflict in good conscience, he relocates to Paris under the correct assumption that it will be difficult for federal agents to make him do much of anything if he’s in France. A number of other characters discuss fleeing to Canada. But it should be noted that Grimm did register with the government before he moved, whereas a superhuman who did not could theoretically be in violation of the SHRA in the same way that a draft dodger might escape punishment but still be in violation of the law. So Grimm’s registration and subsequent self-imposed exile does not necessarily violate the law (unless participation in The Initiative is mandatory, which some stories suggest may be the case).

Beyond that, the writers raise the question of whether a superhuman temporary visitor (who wasn’t a head of state or otherwise qualified to diplomatic immunity) would be required to register. This is never resolved in-universe, but it would stand to reason that this would work in much the same way as similar laws interact with immigration status. In general, when the government requires someone to register, that duty only attaches when permanent residence (or employment of some kind) is established. So a vacationing or exchange student would probably not be required to register, but someone seeking refugee status, permanent residency (a “green card”) or citizenship (naturalization) would. Requiring temporary visitors to register would not only be an absolute hassle, but would probably piss off other nations by imposing arguably unnecessary and burdensome obligations on their citizens. Even given the anti-super fervor which swept the country, one can imagine Congress taking a measured approach here.

Finally, there is also the issue, mentioned above, that certain characters are both superhuman and highly placed in foreign governments. Victor Von Doom is the head of state of Latveria. T’Challa is the king of Wakanda. There’s also the Atlanteans, who in at least one case are diplomatic envoys (though their spies probably don’t count, as spies can be detained). All of these will be entitled to diplomatic immunity, and attempting to abrogate that—as War Machine does late in the series—would constitute an act of war which should probably have caused a far bigger international incident than it seems to have. Even more, a foreign head of state actively taking sides with an insurrection, as T’Challa does with the Anti-Registration forces, is just completely out of bounds. This would be on the same level as France assisting the American Colonies or Britain coming in on the side of the Confederacy in the American Civil War, i.e. it would immediately lead to a state of warfare between the US and the offending foreign power (NB: the Union threatened war if Britain recognized the Confederacy but Britain did not actually do so). The fact that T’Challa is a former Avenger is given far more weight to the resolution of this situation than seems appropriate, and why the US and Wakanda aren’t completely at each other’s throats is never adequately explored. Granted, it takes two to tango, and if T’Challa wants to let the thing slide, that’d help, but there’s no reason that US State Department would want to do that.

Then we come to Storm, aka Ororo Munroe, aka T’Challa’s wife and the reigning Queen of Wakanda, who happens to be a US citizen—in theory, anyway. It seems unlikely that she would be permitted to retain her citizenship after taking up her office in the Wakandan government, even though her official status is never worked out in any great detail. But as the Wakandan monarchy appears hereditary, it would seem that marrying T’Challa would invest her with at least some official political authority. So when federal troops attempt to arrest her when she returns to the US as part of their honeymoon political tour… it’s not entirely clear that 1) she is still subject to the SHRA given her questionable citizenship, or 2) why her status in the Wakandan government does not grant her diplomatic immunity. T’Challa certainly seems to take a dim view of the attempt.

Why the US should care about this is significantly less a question of law than practice. Ultimately, laws really are just customs that society has decided to enforce, but the fact that so few of us have any role in that process tends to make us forget this. But in international law, because there is no sovereign to enforce the laws, custom and practice are pretty important. So if the US is seen to be flouting international law by attempting to arrest foreign dignitaries… that’s going to cause a wide range of problems not only with the dignitaries in question but with just about every other country in the world. The State Department is going to have one hell of a time trying to explain to other countries why the government decided that any domestic political issue trumped long-established international law, and why it isn’t going to happen again.

B. Embassies

The other main international law issue here is that of embassies. Embassies are generally subject to a limited form of extraterritoriality under the Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations, of which the US is a member. Essentially, while still technically the sovereign territory of the host nation, embassies remain under the jurisdiction of the represented nation, and the host nation may not enter without permission. This is why so many intelligence operations are centered around embassies: the host nation cannot come and go as it pleases. So if simply setting foot in an embassy without permission is a big deal—and it is—how much more is completely leveling one, as happens during the final battle of the series? Again, Wakanda seems to basically shrug this off, as T’Challa decides not to make a big deal out of it, but it’s remarkable that no other countries would say anything. We’re talking about the destruction of a foreign embassy on US soil which the government does not seem to have been able to prevent. That’s not going to give the international community warm and fuzzy feelings, and it’s entirely possible that other governments could use this incident as a pretense to beef up security at their own embassies in the US without the State Department being able to object as much as they otherwise might.

II. Interplanetary Law

We talked about this one back in Mailbag XIII. US jurisdiction extends to spacecraft outside the Earth’s atmosphere which are operating under the US flag, but not really much beyond that. However, the Inhumans, who live in the Blue Area of the Moon would probably be treated mostly like a foreign country, despite their extraplanetary location. They certainly seem to talk as if they should be treated as a foreign country. Black Bolt has imposed what amounts to a universal ban on earthlings hanging around the moon, which seems to amount to a territorial claim. While the US might not be all that happy about this—The whole moon? Really?—there doesn’t seem to be all that much that they can do about it, nor ultimately all that much incentive to either. The Inhumans don’t exactly have representation at the UN or any other international bodies, don’t seem to spend all that much time dirtside, and the US doesn’t have any ongoing presence on the moon, even in Earth-616. So really, Inhuman/US relations seem analogous to any other nation with which the US does not have formal relations. The fact that it takes a spacecraft to get there seems of little import.

III. Conclusion

So the SHRA and Civil War stories do seem to have a lot to do with international law, though again, such issues are frequently matters of custom (and politics) as much as law. The issues related to foreign nationals are not very well worked out, and the way the stories are told seem to make some of the more obvious solutions to those issues problematic. The stories seem to take the destruction of an embassy pretty lightly. But as in other contexts, the fact that some of the people with whom the stories deal are located outside Earth’s atmosphere doesn’t make as much difference as it might seem at first.

X-Men: First Class

There’s a new X-Men movie out, and it’s actually pretty great. But you don’t come here for detailed discussions about the merits of the movie as a movie or about the fidelity or creativity of the adaptation. No, you come here to read about the legal implications of the various plot devices. So let’s get down to it. Given the plot, most of what we’ve got here is going to be international law, with an added civil rights / employment law bonus. As always, we’ve got spoilers.

I. Nazi Gold

In his quest to find the Nazi “doctor” that killed his mother, Erik Lensherr used an ingot of Nazi gold as a pretense to get an appointment with a high-ranking Swiss banker. This has a certain realism to it, as a vast amount of Nazi gold disappeared into European banks by 1945, and much of it probably remains there. The banker comments that possessing such gold is illegal. He’s right. In September 1946, the United Kingdom, United States, and France formed the Tripartite Commission for the Restitution of Monetary Gold with the mandate to identify those persons or institutions with claims that gold had been looted from them by the Nazis and the goal of restoring that gold to its rightful owners. The Tripartite Commission was created as part of the Paris Peace Treaties which brought about the end of the war. The Commission’s task took a long time, and it was only dissolved in 1998 with something like 65% of the claimed gold returned. Congress addressed the issue with the “Holocaust Victims Redress Act, Pub. Law No. 105-158 in 1998. The Act basically authorizes the US representative to the Commission to dispose of what assets remained in the Commission’s possession at that time.

Still, there’s one little wrinkle. Lensherr, being a Jew and victim of the concentration camps, could in theory have a valid claim to the gold in question, which would make the legality of his possession of the ingot less clear. But as this issue was dealt with on a really high level, it’s doubtful that law enforcement would care much one way or the other. The Commission was mostly concerned with the gold possessed by sovereign governments, not individuals.

II. Acts of War

First, there’s the operation to nail Shaw when he meets with the Russian general. This is a CIA-directed op, with CIA agents on the ground, leading a group of what amounts to mercenaries—other than Moira and the other agent, it isn’t clear that anyone else involved was a federal agent—in attempting to infiltrate a sensitive military compound to assassinate a high value target. Several major wars have been sparked because of the assassination of a high-ranking official, so this is kind of a big deal. Granted, in most cases where a war follows an assassination, the actual death is a pretense for armed conflict really motivated by more serious underlying tensions, but this kind of thing is dramatic enough to push things over the edge.

But the appearance of the X-Men on the scene at the climax of the Cuban Missile Crisis? That might not be, because the government had not authorized them to do anything. They were not acting under anyone’s orders (or at least anyone with the authority to give those kinds of orders), and it’s far from clear that the CIA even knew what they were up to. So Professor X causing the Russians to fire on their own ship could plausibly have been disavowed by Washington as rogue agents acting without authority. The fact that the Russians had already ordered the ship to turn around means that they’d probably be willing to grasp at any excuse not to go to war, so this explanation may well have been accepted, whether Professor X was acting under orders or not.

Magneto springing Emma Frost from the CIA holding center wouldn’t count either, as he wasn’t acting on the authority of any sovereign entity. At the time, it probably would have been classified as a criminal act, because the government’s rush to classify everything it doesn’t like as “terrorism” did not really get its start until the events of 2001. But it is plausible that, if apprehended, he could have initially been charged with espionage. Granted, Magneto does not seem to have any particular interest in working with any human government, and his little trip into the facility did not appear to include the acquisition of any information. Still, he damaged a bunch of property and may have killed some agents at a highly classified facility, so the feds would be understandably upset about that. They might not be able to make a charge of espionage stick in the absence of any connection to a foreign power though: the Espionage Act generally requires that one transmit or intend to transmit something to someone. Acquiring classified information and doing nothing with it isn’t espionage.

III. Employment Discrimination

At one point in the film, Moira’s CIA boss states in a meeting that “there’s no place for a woman in the CIA.”  Today that kind of comment might well give rise to a discrimination claim, but what about in 1962?  As it turns out, an employer—even a government employer—could probably have gotten away with it because the Equal Pay Act of 1963 and the Civil Rights Act of 1964 (specifically Title VII) had not been enacted yet.  Without those important Acts in place the courts were generally pretty tolerant of both de facto and de jure discrimination against women.  For example, it wasn’t until 1971 that the Supreme Court first struck down a state law on the basis that it discriminated on the basis of sex.  Reed v. Reed, 404 US 71 (1971).  And fully equal participation in jury service was not mandated until Taylor v. Louisiana, 419 U.S. 522 (1975).  So kudos to the writers for working in that accurate (if depressing) “sign of the times.”

IV. Conclusion

X-Men: First Class isn’t exactly a courtroom drama, but the legal issues that are there were treated pretty well.  We’re looking forward to the all-but-inevitable sequel.  In the mean time, check it out.  It’s a pretty good flick.

The Trial of Reed Richards

Several readers have inquired about The Trial of Reed Richards (aka The Trial of Galactus), which is a great John Byrne-era Fantastic Four storyline.  There are several legal issues to discuss here, but we’ll start with a brief synopsis of the story line.  Readers who are already familiar with the story can skip to section II.

I. The Story

In Fantastic Four #243-44, Reed Richards saved the life of Galactus, a powerful creature with a nasty habit of devouring inhabited planets.  Later, in Fantastic Four 261-62, the survivors of Galactus’s prior attacks put Reed on trial for the deaths caused by Galactus after Reed saved him, most notably the deaths of 7 billion Skrulls when Galactus consumed the Skrull throneworld.

(Actually, first the survivors sentence Reed to a summary execution, but after a brief fight between the rest of the Fantastic Four and Reed’s would-be executioners, the Watcher intervenes, and then the survivors decide to hold a trial.)

Princess Lilandra of the Shi’ar Empire appoints herself prosecutor.  Apparently Lilandra had appeared to Reed after he saved Galactus and warned him “Should [Galactus] consume any world known to us you will be in part responsible…and will be held responsible for it…to the full extent of Shi’ar law!”

Lilandra first calls a survivor of the destruction of the Skrull throneworld.  Following that, she calls innumerable survivors of prior Galactus attacks to establish that Reed knew full well of Galactus’s pattern of planet-eating.

In the face of the prosecution’s evidence, Reed pleads guilty—but not to a crime, rather to the fact of saving Galactus’s life.  Reed argues that doing so was no crime because Galactus is a force of nature and part of some greater plan for good in the universe.  To this end, the god Odin is summoned by the Watcher to testify as to Galactus’s origin, as told to him by Thor, who was told by Galactus himself.  Odin testifies that Galactus was created at the beginning of the universe, the lone survivor of the end of the prior universe, and thus Galactus is a natural force.

Alas, Odin’s testimony fails to persuade everyone.  And so Galactus himself shows up to testify that Reed’s act was “honorable and good.”  Unsurprisingly, the testimony of an alleged mass murderer whose life was saved by the defendant is unpersuasive.  So the Watcher and Galactus combine powers to summon Eternity, the embodiment of the entire universe.  Eternity links the minds of all of the creatures in the court room, allowing them to see the Cosmic Truth that Galactus is a necessary force in the universe.  In the face of such overwhelming evidence, Reed is exonerated and the Fantastic Four return to Earth.

So that’s the story.  We don’t know anything about Shi’ar law or M’ndavian procedure, so we’ll analyze the case from an earthly legal perspective.

II. The Legal Issues

A. Preliminary Issues

There are a whole host of legal issues here, but we’ll stick to the big ones.  Right off the bat we can say that the appeal of Reed’s summary execution is a kind of habeas corpus petition, essentially a demand that the authorities prove that they have the right to detain (and for that matter execute) Reed.

Next: the issue of Reed’s extradition.  Here we can take some issue.  The alleged crime (saving Galactus) occurred on Earth, Reed is a citizen of a nation of Earth, he was on Earth at the time of his forcible extradition, and it doesn’t appear that the US or UN have agreed to any kind of extradition treaty with the Shi’ar or the ad hoc Galactus-survivor court.  On the other hand, Reed seems to waive the jurisdictional issue and accept the legitimacy of the trial, which by Reed’s choice is conducted under M’ndavian procedures, “the most perfect legal system in the galaxy.”

B. The Prosecution’s Case

Now we get into the trial proper.  Lilandra’s argument is that Reed saved the life of someone he knew would go on to kill others, and therefore Reed is guilty of a crime, though the specific crime is not named.  We can’t speak to Shi’ar law, but under the US legal system Reed’s actions would probably not be a crime.  There are three main theories under which Reed might be liable: conspiracy, accomplice or accessory liability, and facilitation.  However, the first two require a level of intent that Reed did not possess (i.e. he did not intend for Galactus to go on to commit any crimes).

That leaves facilitation.  In New York, where we believe the alleged crime took place, facilitation is, in general, “a kind of accessorial conduct in which the actor aids the commission of a crime with knowledge that he is doing so but without any specific intent to participate therein or to benefit therefrom.” Staff Notes of the Commission on Revision of the Penal Law. Proposed New York Penal Law. McKinney’s Spec. Pamph. (1964), p. 328.  Here’s the definition of the most general form of facilitation:

A person is guilty of criminal facilitation in the fourth degree when, believing it probable that he is rendering aid to a person who intends to commit a crime, he engages in conduct which provides such person with means or opportunity for the commission thereof and which in fact aids such person to commit a felony.

N.Y. Penal Law § 115.00.  At first glance this looks pretty bad, and it is a closer case than conspiracy or accomplice liability.  Again, the answer turns on intent, but in this case it’s Galactus’s intent that matters, not Reed’s.

At the time Galactus’s life was saved, Galactus did not have the required intent to commit a crime.  Sure, at some point Galactus was likely to get hungry and eat a planet, but at that particular moment he did not have the intent to eat any particular planet.  Without that intent element, Reed couldn’t commit the crime of facilitation.

But even supposing Reed’s conduct would have been a crime, he may still offer the defense of necessity, which we’ll discuss below.

C. The Defense’s Case

First off, Reed’s guilty plea is completely backwards.  Rather than pleading guilty to the fact of saving Galactus’s life but arguing that his conduct was not a crime, it would make more sense to say that he stipulates to the facts but maintains a plea of not guilty.  But that’s a pretty technical point.  There are bigger problems with the defense’s case, specifically Odin’s testimony.

Odin’s testimony is a gigantic ball of hearsay problems, and we don’t think there’s any answer to it.  Odin is trying to offer the rare double hearsay: the words of Galactus as spoken to Thor as spoken to Odin.  It would also have been hearsay if Thor had been the one to testify, since there’s no exception that would apply there, either.  What’s more, all of the hearsay issues could have been circumvented since Galactus himself showed up and so could have given the same testimony properly.

Finally we have Eternity’s testimony, which basically amounts to the defense of necessity mentioned above: saving Galactus was a lesser harm to the universe than allowing him to die, even though he would go on to destroy other planets.  So even if Reed’s conduct would have been a crime, he may still claim the defense of necessity.  We’re not so sure that his actions were actually reasonable under the circumstances (i.e. an ordinary reasonable person would probably not have made the same choice), but who’s going to argue with Eternity?

III. Conclusion

The Trial of Reed Richards is a classic and enjoyable Fantastic Four story, and we’ll take John Byrne’s word for it that M’ndavian procedure and Shi’ar law were followed in the comic.  It’s interesting to note, though, that roughly the same result would probably have been achieved under US law, in some cases for the same or similar reasons.

Mailbag for April 1, 2011

Today we have questions about sentient property and Asgard’s extraterritoriality.  As always, if you have questions or post suggestions, please send them to james@lawandthemultiverse.com and ryan@lawandthemultiverse.com or leave them in the comments.

I. Lost Sentient Property?

Both of today’s questions from Wusheng.  The first question is about Alan Scott (i.e. the first Green Lantern) and his ring: “The ring and lantern that Alan uses were carved from a meteor called the Starheart.  This meteor … was sentient.  As a result, the ring and energy within both it and the lantern, are sentient. … [H]ow does that affect the ‘lost property’ label that you gave it?”

This was partly addressed in the comments on the Lost and Found post that Wusheng referred to, but we wanted to take the opportunity to mention another possibility.  For intelligent artifacts that are not legally considered people (e.g. either because the courts don’t recognize non-human intelligences or because the artifact fails whatever test the courts set up), it is possible that a court could treat them as a kind of animal.  So we wondered how the lost property analysis changes if one views the ring as a lost animal (albeit one that doesn’t move around much).

As it turns out, there is a particular body of law dealing with lost or stray animals, which the law calls “estrays.”  (The initial e comes from the Old French estraier. This is a common pattern in old legal terms.  See, e.g., estoppel).

At common law estrays were generally defined as “a beast wandering, or without an owner; one wandering at large, or lost, or whose owner is unknown.”  Walters v. Glats, 29 Iowa 437, 439 (1870).  However, most states (including Iowa at the time of that decision) have specific statutes for estrays.  Importantly for superheroes, the reason the beast was wandering is unimportant: “it is plainly immaterial how the animal escaped from the owner,—whether by his voluntary act, by the act of a trespasser upon his premises, or by a thief.” Kinney v. Roe, 7o Iowa 509 (1886); see also State v. Miller, 41 N.M. 618 (1937).  Relatively recently the Vermont Supreme Court held that estray laws only apply to animals of considerable economic value and so do not apply to dogs.  Morgan v. Kroupa, 167 Vt. 99, 102-03 (1997).

The sentient ring and lantern would seem to fit this definition: they are plainly lost (albeit not wandering), the owner is unknown, and they definitely have considerable economic value.  The next question is, what rights are conferred on the finder of an estray?  The particulars vary from state to state, but the general framework is that the finder acquires a qualified property right that becomes an absolute right if the original owner doesn’t show up and claim the estray after a set time period.  Since the original owner never shows up, Scott would get a complete property right in the ring and lantern.

Since many states have enacted estray statutes rather than rely on the common law, a judge might not be able to apply the estray statute directly (that’s the problem the Vermont court ran into).  However, estray law provides a template or framework that courts can use to apply to things that sit in that “special place somewhere in between a person and a piece of personal property.” Corso v. Crawford Dog & Cat Hosp., Inc., 415 N.Y.S.2d 182, 183 (City Civ.Ct.1979).  So a court could use estray laws as the basis for handling sentient artifacts.

II. Extraterritoriality and the Asgardian Embassy

For his second question Wusheng writes about Thor moving Asgard to Oklahoma (Thor, vol. 3, #2-3).  “He started out just hovering it over farmland, but eventually bought out the farmland for a massively inflated price (he filled the back of the farmer’s truck with gold).  At this point, Iron Man tried to force Thor into declaring it to be under U.S. rule, but Thor knocked him around like a rag doll for a bit and Iron Man agreed to let it remain sovereign.

My question is, if we disregard the attempt by Iron Man to force it under U.S. rule, how would International Law handle something like this?  Or would Iron Man’s response (if heavy handed and more than a bit foolish) have been a more or less appropriate response?”

What the US granted Asgard was extraterritoriality.  As Iron Man explained in the comic, this is indeed a common feature of an embassy or other diplomatic mission.  The bigger issues here are Asgard’s size (i.e. just how much space is being ceded), whether Iron Man really had authority to negotiate on behalf of the US (we’ll assume he did for narrative convenience), and whether the US was willing to give territory to a foreign power that effectively just invaded the US (we’ll assume it was willing to do so because, c’mon, he’s the God of Thunder).

It’s not clear exactly how large Asgard is, but it looks to be at least several acres and perhaps as much as a square mile.  This would be exceptionally large for an extraterritorial space in the US.  The largest such space is the UN headquarters in New York, which sits on 17 acres (.026 square miles).  There are roughly 190 foreign embassies and 1200 foreign consulates in the US.  Assuming they all enjoy extraterritorial status (which is not actually the case) and occupy an average of one acre each (which is being very generous) that amounts to about 2.18 square miles.  So Asgard would likely be the largest extraterritorial space in the US and quite possibly the largest embassy in the world (the current record holder, the new US embassy in Iraq, sits on 104 acres or .16 square miles).

However, while that might be unusual for the US and for embassies, it is not unusual in other contexts.  For example, the US operates hundreds of military bases in dozens of foreign countries, some of which are quite large (e.g. Guantanamo Bay Naval Base is 45 square miles).  So it is not without precedent for a country to cede a large extraterritorial space to another country.  It would be unusual for the US to do so, but given that we’re talking about a God of Thunder here, the result seems reasonable and consistent with how international law treats embassies and similar extraterritorial spaces.

That’s all for this week!  Until next time, keep your questions and post suggestions coming in!

Superheroes and International Law II: Unusual Sovereignties

A little while ago we talked about some international law issues related to S.H.I.E.L.D. This time we’re going to talk about the stories where superpowered characters wind up actually running countries, and some of them quite peculiar countries at that.

The basic question here is “What constitutes a sovereign state?” The answer is basically “What other sovereign states recognize to be sovereign states.” If that seems a little circular it’s because it is: as a defined legal concept, sovereignty dates back to the Peace of Westphalia in 1648, which ended the Thirty Years’ War between just about everybody in Europe. Still, this is definitely know-it-when-you-see-it territory. In fact, territory, literally speaking, is probably something that’s required. Sovereign states may hem and haw over whether or not they recognize a particular institution or set of institutions as being sovereign over a particular piece of real estate, but it’s very, very unlikely that sovereignty is going to be recognized in a government that has no exclusive physical control over a discrete land area. Indeed, having that exclusive control is basically all you need to be a de facto state.

I. “Normal” States

With that said, there are a number of comic book stories that involve sovereign states of one sort or another. Some of these are pretty unremarkable, legally speaking. Latveria, ruled by Doctor Doom, is a fictional nation in the Marvel universe carved out of Romania and Serbia, mostly the former. During Dr. Doom’s rule it was a dictatorship/absolute monarchy, a form of government which, while increasingly unfashionable today, does still exist. Latveria, for all intents and purposes, is just another small European nation unfriendly to US interests. It stands with half a dozen or so other nations in that respect, including Serbia and some of the former Soviet republics, depending on how the winds are blowing on any given weekday. But Latveria is presumably official recognized by the United States and other modern governments, and if Neil Gaiman’s 1602 is any indication, it’s been around as an otherwise normal sovereign state for at least four centuries. So far, there isn’t much to say here. Latveria does not present any legal issues the State Department doesn’t already handle every day. The whole mad-dictator-using-supernatural-powers thing is a bit unusual, but it isn’t a strictly legal problem. This also probably goes for the dozen or so fictional African nations in various Marvel continuities: they may as well be a real country for all the difference it makes.

II. “Hidden” States

But what about Wakanda, the fictional, technologically advanced African nation ruled by T’Challa, aka the Black Panther?  Wakanda is also called “The Hidden Land,” and it is largely closed off from the rest of the world.  The fact that the country has existed for thousands of years without regular contact with the outside world is… problematic because recognition is a big part of what makes a state sovereign.

If Wakanda exists inside the putative borders of at least one other country, then there is a potential for conflict, possibly even war, with those nations if Wakanda’s existence becomes known to the wider world.  Not that the other countries are likely to be able to win that war, but states don’t readily let go of territory where possible, and antagonistic neighbors are inconvenient even if they aren’t a military threat. Even the weakest of countries can make things diplomatically and logistically difficult for their neighbors (see, e.g., Somali pirates).

Alternatively, Wakanda might exist outside the borders of other countries, though that supposes some extraordinary method of concealment to avoid the “hole in the map” problem.  That’s especially hard in the era of satellite mapping.  But if Wakanda reveals itself under those circumstances, then unless some powerful countries promptly recognize Wakanda’s sovereignty, there might be a land grab by neighboring countries fighting over the new territory and its rich natural resources (e.g. vibranium).

Again, this would hold true for almost any state which has hidden its existence from the outside world. As long as they stay hidden, which will require an increasing amount of effort in today’s world of satellite surveillance, they’ll be okay. But as soon as someone learns about them, there could be all sorts of problems.

III. Underwater States

Things are different still with underwater nations. Aquaman and Namor occupy their respective universes’ instantiations of Atlantis, which somehow survived its submersion thousands of years ago. In addition to the problems facing hidden states in general, these pose the additional problems of not actually being on dry land. International waters are a rather fraught issue in international diplomacy, as they represent access to the world’s shipping lanes, an invaluable economic and military resource. Territorial waters, i.e. waters where states exert the full force of their sovereignty, extend twelve miles from the low-tide mark, while contiguous zones, where states may exert some limited authority mostly related to border protection and customs activities, extends twelve miles beyond that. the exclusive economic zone goes all the way out to two hundred miles from shore, and in that range a state may exert exclusive control over economic activities like drilling, fishing, etc., but it may not prohibit or interfere with transit or just hanging around.

But all of these definitions are based on the low-tide mark. What are the territorial waters of Atlantis, which has no low-tide mark, being completely underwater? Even if one were to simply grant the same sorts of rights as land-based nations, where do the borders of Atlantis start and stop? The edge of the city? Some distance beyond? There isn’t exactly a natural feature—on the surface anyway—where one could draw an obvious line, nor are there going to be other countries with which to define a border. Even if a ship were trying to respect the borders, without GPS or a really good navigator, it would be almost impossible to tell when you were trespassing, even by hundreds of miles.

It’s possible that other nations might not recognize that Atlantis has territorial waters at all, as it would be pretty inconvenient to do so. States are accustomed to having pretty much free reign in the Atlantic, so a huge hole in the map defined solely by law created to respect Atlantean territorial claims might not be of much interest to other states. One could always make the argument that Atlantis is free to do whatever it likes on the ocean floor provided it does not interfere with surface traffic, but even then 1) why would Atlantis agree to that, and 2) what about submarine traffic? And given that Atlantis would probably need to be willing to go to war to get what it wants, would it? Could it? Namor has certainly launched an attack on more than one occasion, but that never seems to go very well. No, it would probably be best for all involved if the undersea kingdoms kept to themselves and did not advance any territorial claims. International disputes like this one have historically been solved with armies.

IV. Conclusion

A lot of the fictional nations in comics stories don’t present any particular legal problems: redrawing territorial lines happens with some regularity even in the real world. Even since the Peace of Westphalia, one is hard-pressed to come up with a decade when national boundaries didn’t change somewhere. But adding in the possibility of countries that have been hidden for long periods of time or, even worse, exist under the surface of the ocean, makes things a lot more complicated.