By Beatriz Adas; Eleanor Mensah; Leo Johnson

Going Global: A Legal Podcast for Today’s Global Challenges is a collaborative Podcast series between Newcastle Law School and São Paulo State University (Unesp). It is dedicated to discussing contemporary legal issues related to global transformations and the challenges faced by the international (and post national) community. This series comprises three episodes that will explore Extractivism as a global issue. This is Episode 3 ‘Mining in Africa: traceability and global companies’.

Mineral resources play an important role in the global economy, but their extraction often raises complex legal, political, and social questions. This episode of the Going Global podcast explored these issues through the case of Angola’s mining sector with Professor Afonso ‘Mosquito’ Garrido, whose expertise spans governance, technology, compliance, and sustainability. The discussion examined topics including conflict (blood) diamonds, the Kimberley Process Certification Scheme, the Lobito Corridor, and the challenges of regulating global mineral supply chains. Through these themes, both the strengths and limitations of international legal frameworks were examined in addressing issues of conflict, governance, and economic development. The episode primarily explored questions related to international law and environmental governance, highlighting the growing importance of legal mechanisms designed to promote transparency, accountability, and sustainable development within the mining sector.

This episode was developed and presented by Beatriz Adas from São Paulo State University (Unesp) and Newcastle University Global Law students Eleanor Mensah and Leo Johnson. The subject is particularly relevant because mineral resources are essential for global industries, including technology, energy, and infrastructure. However, mining benefits are often accompanied by concerns regarding governance, corruption, environmental degradation, and social inequality. Understanding how legal mechanisms address these challenges helps to explain the broader relationship between natural resources, development, and international justice.

One of the first topics explored was the Lobito Corridor, a major railway and infrastructure project that connects mining regions in Central Africa to the Angolan coast. This project was compared to Brazil’s Grande Carajás Programme, another large-scale mining enterprise . This comparison raised an important question: do these projects promote genuine development for local communities, or do they mainly serve international markets? Professor Garrido explained that while infrastructure can create economic growth, its success depends on how effectively governments ensure that local populations benefit from those investments.

The discussion then moved to the issue of conflict diamonds, often referred to as ‘blood diamonds.’ Using the example of Sierra Leone’s civil war, the ways in which diamonds were used to fund armed groups and prolong conflict were analysed. This led to a wider discussion about the role of international organisations and whether stronger or earlier intervention could have reduced the human cost of the conflict.

A significant part of the episode focused on the Kimberley Process Certification Scheme (KPCS), which was created to prevent the trade of diamonds linked to armed conflict. While the scheme has helped reduce the circulation of conflict diamonds, Professor Garrido discussed some of its limitations. In particular, the Kimberley Process focuses mainly on diamonds that fund rebel groups and may not adequately address issues such as corruption, inequality, or harmful practices carried out by governments and corporations. This raises questions about whether international legal frameworks always reflect the realities faced by local communities.

Finally, Angola’s recent efforts to improve diamond traceability were explored. By tracking the origin of diamonds throughout the supply chain, governments and businesses hope to increase transparency and reduce illegal activity. However, the discussion highlighted that traceability alone cannot solve every governance challenge and must be supported by strong institutions and effective regulation.

Overall, this episode demonstrated that mineral extraction is not only an economic issue but also a legal and governance challenge. The discussion encouraged listeners to think critically about the role of international law in balancing economic development with justice, accountability, and sustainability.

By Aliya Khan; Daniel Nobre Fernandes da Silva; Emma Bickers; Raquel Freitas Colaço

Going Global: A Legal Podcast for Today’s Global Challenges is a collaborative podcast series between Newcastle Law School and São Paulo State University (Unesp). It is dedicated on discussing contemporary legal issues related to global transformations and the challenges faced by international (and post national) community. This series comprehend three episodes that will explore Extractivism as a global issue. This is episode 2 ‘Posthumanism as a new standard for responsible extractivism?’. It was hosted by Emma Bickers and Aliya Khan (Newcastle Univerisity), and Raquel Freitas Colaço and Daniel Nobre Fernandes da Silva (Unesp).

Introduction

How can a legal system built on human mastery and resource extraction solve a global ecological crisis? In this episode, we come together to critically evaluate the boundaries of public international law in the face of climate breakdown. Our discussion challenges orthodox environmental frameworks and explores radical alternatives to shift how the law conceptualizes the natural world.

The Speaker

Our guest for this episode is Dr. Emily Jones, a NUAcT Fellow at Newcastle Law School. Dr. Jones is a renowned scholar specializied in Public International Law, Environmental Law, and critical Legal theories, specifically pioneering feminist, queer, and post humanist approaches to jurisprudence. Her groundbreaking work re-examines foundational concepts of sovereignty, exploitation, and legal personhood.

Overview of the Field: Why It Matters

Traditional international environmental law operates within a deeply anthropocentric framework, viewing nature primarily as an inert ‘resource’ destined for human appropriation, property, and capital accumulation. Under this orthodox paradigm, well-established legal principles like permanent state sovereignty over natural resources and the ‘sustainable development’ model often act as legal shields that facilitate, rather than restrict, ecological destruction and global extractivism. Discussing critical jurisprudence is essential since it uncovers how international law historically enabled colonial plunder and continues to reproduce North-South structural inequalities. To confront issues like deep-sea mining or the corporate accountability gap in ecocide, the legal architecture must be destabilized from its core human-centered bias.

What is Discussed in the Episode

Throughout the episode, the conversation flows through three major conceptual pillars:Posthumanism and Critical Architecture: We dive into the definition of (a feminist) posthuman theory, exploring how it dismantles both the hierarchy between humans (along axes of race, gender, and class) and the dangerous split between humans and the non-human world. Dr. Jones answers hard-hitting questions about whether a fundamentally human-centred legal structure can ever genuinely safeguard global supply chains.

• The Rights of Nature vs. The Relational Approach: Moving beyond the ‘Universal Declaration of Mother Earth’, we evaluate the limits of standard legal transfers. Dr. Jones explains the vital need to shift away from granting nature human-like ‘rights’ – which can easily be co-opted by neoliberal interests – and instead adopt an indigenous-informed, relational approach centred on human kinship and reciprocal responsibilities to care for dynamic ecosystems. We also reflect on how the law is evolving following recent regional climate litigation, such as the Klimaseniorinnen case at the ECHR.
• Extractivism and Hope: Finally, we confront the stark realities of sustainable extractivism and international jurisdiction in unregulated areas like the deep seabed. Despite the overwhelming scale of global ecocide, the episode concludes with a profound reflection on ‘queer hope’ and political affirmation, rejecting paralysis to imagine incremental, transformative steps toward structural climate justice.

By Livia Porto; Luísa Sasaki; Ekaterina (Katherine) Iosifova; Candence Willis.

Going Global: A Legal Podcast for Today’s Global Challenges is a collaborative Podcast series between Newcastle Law School and São Paulo State University (Unesp). It is dedicated to discussing contemporary legal issues related to global transformations and the challenges faced by the international (and post national) community. This series comprises three episodes that will explore Extractivism as a global issue. This is Episode 1 ‘Introduction to Global issues: regulating extractivism in a divided world’. Itis hosted by Livia Porto and Luísa Sasaki (Unesp), and Ekaterina (Katherine) Iosifova and Candence Willis (Newcastle University).

In this episode, we welcome Professor Eduardo Saad-Diniz and João Victor Gianecchini to discuss the intersections between extractivism, global geopolitics, environmental governance, and international law. Professor Eduardo Saad-Diniz holds a Habilitation in Criminology and a PhD in Criminal Law from the University of São Paulo (USP) and is also affiliated with the ARC Foundation – Amazonia R&D Center in Manaus, Brazil. João Victor Gianecchini is a PhD candidate at the University of Frankfurt, Germany, supported by a scholarship from the Friedrich Ebert Stiftung Foundation, and holds an LL.M. from USP.

The episode explores extractivism as a central issue in contemporary international debates. Extractivism as a concept surrounds the intensive exploitation of natural resources, especially in environmentally sensitive regions such as the Amazon rainforest. In a context marked by the worsening of environmental crises and the reorganization of international geopolitical relations, discussing extractivism becomes essential to understanding the economic, social, environmental, and legal impacts resulting from these activities.

The discussion examines how extractivist practices in the Amazon Rainforest are shaped by shifting global power dynamics and competing economic interests. The guests analyse the relationship between environmental degradation, resource exploitation, and contemporary geopolitical transformations, including the growing influence of BRICS countries and changing approaches to international cooperation. Particular attention is given to the implications of these developments for environmental governance through green criminology and the future of global responses to the climate crisis.

Another relevant issue discussed in the episode concerns environmental crimes and the limitations of domestic monitoring and investigative mechanisms in Brazil. In this context, the guests reflect on the possible role of international organizations and non-governmental organizations in overseeing extractivist activities and ensuring accountability for environmental harm at the local level and across borders. Furthermore, they discuss whether existing international institutions are sufficient to address such challenges or whether new global mechanisms for environmental protection should be created.

Finally, the episode turns its attention to the future of the Amazon rainforest and the urgent measures necessary to prevent the worsening of environmental degradation. The guests emphasize that the Amazon represents an issue of global relevance due to its environmental, social, economic, and climate impacts. By combining legal, geopolitical, and environmental perspectives, the episode offers a critical reflection on one of the most pressing debates of our time and highlights the importance of expanding international dialogue on sustainability, global governance, and environmental protection.

The North East Law Review (NELR) is now inviting submissions for Volume 11, Special Issue, ‘Law and Global Challenges’, which will be published in Summer 2025. The deadline for submission is 17:00 (UK time) on 14 February 2025 (Friday).

Submission Guidelines

Topic of the special issue: Law and Global Challenges
The world faces numerous challenges, triggered by conflict and war, climate change, technology development, healthcare access, gender inequality, and cultural homogenisation- this list is by no means exhaustive. What role has the law played, or what role can it play, in either alleviating or intensifying these challenges? We invite submissions that explore legal issues related to the topic of Law and Global Challenges. Submissions may focus on any law subject, at international, regional, or national law levels, and take doctrinal, socio-legal, comparative, or other legal research methodologies.

Forms of submission accepted:

Articles: original analyses and examinations of law issues align with the topic, between 3,000 and 6,000 words, including footnotes;

Case Comments: discussions and analyses of recent cases and other influential cases align with the topic, from any jurisdiction, between 2,000 and 3,000 words, including footnotes.
Short or longer submissions may be considered.

Citations: Oxford Standard for Citation of Legal Authorities (OSCOLA), 4th Edition.

Formatting: House Style.

Submission and Review:
•Please email your work in a Microsoft Word document to nelr@newcastle.ac.uk.
•Please include an abstract of no more than 250 words and 3-5 keywords in your submission.
•All submissions will undergo a blind review process by multiple editors on the Editorial Board, comprising academic staff and students at the Newcastle Law School. For blind review purposes, please remove all personal information from the submission document.
•Authors will be notified about the status of their submission by the end of March 2025. Some revisions may be required.
•NELR does not accept submissions that have been published elsewhere, except personal blogs or SSRN pages.

Authors are welcome to contact the Editorial Board for any inquiries at nelr@newcastle.ac.uk.

Bernardo Carvalho de Mello

On December 29, 2023, the Republic of South Africa sued the International Court of Justice, bringing the State of Israel to the Hague Court over allegations of violations of the 1948 Convention for the Prevention and Suppression of the Crime of Genocide (hereinafter “Convention against Genocide” or “convention”). In short, South Africa initiates judicial proceedings to (a) verify that the actions committed by Israel in Gaza constitute violations of different obligations present in the convention and (b) obtain a decision in precautionary proceedings and immediately suspend Israel’s military actions in and against Gaza.

Knowing that proceedings before the Hague Court can take years, a request during the course of the conflict also aims to obtain a precautionary order to influence current events. This even seems to be a trend in recent years in terms of human rights. In this sense, it is possible to verify that the court was recently approached in two cases involving the same convention: the case of Ukraine v. Russia (2022) [1] and the case of Gambia v. Myanmar (2019) [2]. In both cases, the International Court issued precautionary orders demanding specific actions from the requested States to protect the rights present in the convention.

This text technically analyses the case filed by South Africa before the Hague Court in light of existing international rules and the court’s jurisprudence on the matter to clarify the meaning of this legal action for the conflict. Initially (1), it focuses on South Africa’s allegations, thus examining its initial petition. To this end, I will analyse the court’s jurisprudence on matters of genocide and precautionary measures (2) Seeking parallels with the current situation, I will speculate on the possible directions the court might pursue regarding the case.

(1) South Africa’s allegations and the court’s procedural requirements

In its application [3], South Africa argues that Israel is violating the Genocide Convention, among other allegations, by failing to act to prevent the carrying out of genocide, for conspiring to carry out a genocide and for preventing the investigation and punishment of genocide, in accordance with articles I, II, III, IV, V and VI of the convention [4]. According to the South African document, “The acts and omissions by Israel complained of by South Africa are genocidal in character because they are intended to bring about the destruction of a substantial part of the Palestinian national, racial and ethnical group, that being the part of the Palestinian group in the Gaza Strip (‘Palestinians in Gaza’).” Among the different sources it uses to support its arguments, South Africa uses statements from various countries and heads of state (including Brazil) to define genocide as noted in paragraph 12 of the petition [5]. However, if the case proceeds, each act will need to be analysed separately under the terms of the Genocide Convention to verify a violation, demanding a high evidentiary burden from both parties.

One might question the rationale behind South Africa’s decision to initiate the lawsuit and the procedural basis for its legitimacy in doing so. It could appear more straightforward for the State of Palestine to sue Israel, allowing both to directly address and counter each other’s claims.

Despite these considerations, the legal obligations present in the Genocide Convention are obligations of a unique nature in international law: obligations of an erga omnes parte nature. In other words, they are obligations owed to all other parties to the convention and, which it is the legal interests of all convention members to safeguard. As the court itself noted in 2022: “(…) such a common interest implies that the obligations in question are owed by any State application of the genocide convention (judgment) party to all the other States parties to the relevant convention; they are obligations erga omnes partes, in the sense that each State party has an interest in compliance with them in any given case”. In this way, if alleged convention violations are verified, any State that is a party to the convention — including the United Kingdom — would have the legitimacy to sue another State or even intervene in the procedure because it is a party to it and has interests in its interpretation.

South Africa’s request not only aims to discuss the convention’s obligations but also requires as a precautionary measure, that Israel carry out a series of acts. These include (1) that Israel suspends its military activities in and against Gaza (paragraph 144 n. 1); (2) that Israel guarantees that any military action or irregular military groups cease their activities (paragraph 144 n. 2); (3) that all measures available to the State of Israel to prevent genocide are taken (paragraph 144 n. 4 and 5) [6]. In other words, there is a clear intention on the part of South Africa to end the Israeli offensive without damaging the rights protected in the convention, therefore confirming the dual purpose of the action.

(2) The jurisprudence of the International Court on genocide and precautionary measures

Under Article IX of the Genocide Convention, the International Court of Justice is the judicial body responsible for resolving disputes involving its application and interpretation of the convention. The court has already issued a crucial advisory opinion detailing the importance of the convention and made several pronouncements on the nature of the obligations contained therein. Furthermore, two contentious cases have already reached the merits stage and obtained final decisions: the case of Bosnia v. Serbia (2007) [7], in which the court found that Serbia failed to prevent genocide carried out by militias on its territory, and the case Croatia v. Serbia (2015), in which the Court understood [8] that a genocide did not occur, despite the crucial dissenting vote by judge Antônio Augusto Cançado Trindade.

The lessons from previous cases demonstrate that one cannot lose sight of the fact that the times of international justice are as slow as those of domestic justice, and a case like this can even lead to a division within the court (composed of 15 judges from different nationalities, origins, and perceptions of international law). The South African petition is the beginning of a long process. In the two cases in which it finished judging allegations of violation of the convention, the International Court of Justice took more than ten years to issue a final decision, with several procedural incidents throughout the process.

This is because the legal configuration occurs when a particularly high evidentiary standard is reached. In addition to committing specific acts of violence against a national, ethnic, racial, or religious group, genocide as a legal figure requires a special will to eliminate, in whole or in part, the group in question, in accordance with Article II of the convention. As the court itself has established in the past, the intention to destroy a national, ethnic, racial, or religious group as such “is the essential characteristic of genocide, which distinguishes it from other serious crimes. It is regarded as a dolus specialis, that is to say a specific intent, which, in order for genocide to be established, must be present in addition to the intent required for each of the individual acts involved” [9].

In the Croatia v. Serbia decision in 2015, the International Court was particularly demanding when it came to verifying special intent. Consequently, the Court concluded that Croatia had failed to demonstrate and prove special intent, despite the acts committed being provided for in the convention, the volitional element of destruction of the group was missing, which could not be merely inferred from the acts. The case of Gambia v. Myanmar (2019), still without trial before the court, seems to contribute to the South Africa v Israel case; the fact that there are reports from a special fact-finding mission of the UN Human Rights Council that have already attested to the genocidal intent may be particularly relevant [10].

The South African strategy, however, appears to be in line with other recent cases before the court in which the convention was invoked that sought an interim order to cease violations of the convention on an urgent basis. In such situations, the Court is only required to demonstrate its initial jurisdiction (prima facie jurisdiction), the potential for harm, the urgency of the matter, and the plausibility of the violated rights. With these criteria met, the International Court can issue an order that demands less rigorous procedural standards than what would be needed to prove genocide. Specifically, it can mandate a party to refrain from actions that might breach the Genocide Convention, without the stringent requirement to prove genocide has occurred. In this sense, a relevant precedent also appears to be the case of Ukraine v. Russia (2022), wherein the provisional measures focus less on the need for genocidal intent but instead on the risk of violation of rights protected by the convention [11].

(3) What to expect from the proceedings before the International Court of Justice?

The South African action can also be read as an attempt to quickly obtain from the Hague Court an order to cease belligerent acts on the part of Israel. This judicial action has the potential to amplify international pressure, which is not only political but also legal in nature, to halt hostilities and bring the parties to the negotiation table.

Obviously, many procedural requirements need to be met, and the urgency of the case will lead to a series of complex legal arguments in the coming weeks in the Hague in an attempt to make the South African request successful. Suppose the court finds that it has jurisdiction over the dispute (something that is not always obvious in the court’s jurisprudence). In that case, it will begin a long process of discussing the existence or not of genocide and other violations of the convention.

Court proceedings can take several paths, and accurately predicting judicial behaviour in highly complex cases is not always fruitful. However, given the recent jurisprudence on the matter, some questions have emerged, and other situations can be conjectured.

The first question that arises involves Israel’s participation or not in the procedures, which tends to make all the difference in terms of defences and justifications. Israel would have the opportunity to present its procedural and substantial defences, such as contesting the court’s own jurisdiction and contesting the existence of a “controversy” between South Africa and Israel involving the convention. Another more complex issue involving the limits of self-defence in international law could also arise.

A second procedural question would be whether, in the present case, there will also be a tendency for intervention by third States, as happened in the cases of Ukraine v. Russia (2022) and Gambia v. Myanmar (2019). It is unclear which States will be willing to participate procedurally in the debate. Although one can imagine at least Palestinian participation in the procedures, it will be interesting to see which States will actually participate in the procedure and what arguments will be invoked, both in terms of alleging the existence of violations and maintaining the high evidentiary standard for configuring genocide.

While the seriousness of the situation in Gaza calls for international action, due legal process must be respected due to the severity of the accusations made. As mentioned, in the jurisprudence of the International Court, a State has never been effectively condemned for actively conducting a genocide.

The court is guided by the adversarial principle, and it can be assumed that a judicial institution, guided by praetorian impartiality and independence, does not wish to be perceived as endowed with predictions. This means that Israel’s participation and hearing of its arguments constitutes a fundamental point for the process before the court. Perhaps we can expect from the court something similar to previous cases: an order as a precautionary measure, that is, temporary for the duration of the process and seeking to safeguard the rights of pendent lite, ordering the abstention from acts that may harm the rights protected in the Convention against Genocide.

Although there are criticisms of the mobilisation of the International Court merely for precautionary purposes in cases involving human rights violations, this tendency to consolidate itself in the jurisprudence of the Hague — and the case of South Africa does not seem to be an exception. Furthermore, it is vital to have a judicial body that can decide or not on the existence of genocide, avoiding the appropriation of the expression by political speeches. If, in any way, it contributes to preventing the worsening of conflicts and ensuring that the rights of the parties are preserved, the International Court of Justice will be exercising its essential role as the main judicial body of the United Nations and, therefore, of the very protection of rights recognised by the United Nations and the international community.

1 International Court of Justice, 2024. Allegations of Genocide under the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (Ukraine v. Russian Federation: 32 States intervening). Available at: https://www.icj-cij.org/case/182 [Accessed 25 January 2024].

2 International Court of Justice, 2019. Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (The Gambia v Myanmar) [2019] ICJ Gen List No. 178. Available at: https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/178/178-20220722-jud-01-00-en.pdf [Accessed 22 February 2024].

3 International Court of Justice, 2023. Application Instituting Proceedings, Filed in the Registry of the Court on 28 December 2023. [online] Available at: https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/192/192-20231228-app-01-00-en.pdf [Accessed 25 January 2024].

4 United Nations, n.d. Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide. [pdf] Available at: https://www.un.org/en/genocideprevention/documents/atrocity-crimes/Doc.1_Convention%20on%20the%20Prevention%20and%20Punishment%20of%20the%20Crime%20of%20Genocide.pdf [Accessed 22 January 2024].

5 International Court of Justice, 2023. Application Instituting Proceedings, Filed in the Registry of the Court on 28 December 2023. [online] Available at: https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/192/192-20231228-app-01-00-en.pdf [Accessed 25 January 2024].

6 International Court of Justice, 2023. Application Instituting Proceedings, Filed in the Registry of the Court on 28 December 2023. [online] Available at: https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/192/192-20231228-app-01-00-en.pdf [Accessed 25 January 2024].

7 Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (Bosnia and Herzegovina v. Serbia and Montenegro) [1996] Available at: https://www.icj-cij.org/case/91 [Accessed 25 January 2024].

8 Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (Croatia v Serbia) [2015] Available at: https://www.icj-cij.org/case/118 [Accessed 25 January 2024].

9 Ibid.

10 Human Rights Council, 2018. Report of the independent international fact-finding mission on Myanmar. A/HRC/39/64, 12 September. p.19

11 International Court of Justice, 2024. Allegations of Genocide under the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (Ukraine v. Russian Federation: 32 States intervening). Available at: https://www.icj-cij.org/case/182 [Accessed 25 January 2024]

Bernardo Carvalho de Mello is a law PHD student at Newcastle University

Student editor-in-chief (NELR BLOG) – Thea Nord Berget

Academic Editor (NELR BLOG) – Dr Neha Vyas

Thea Nord Berget

This text is interested in discussing Artificial Intelligence, not as a subject of policy and legislation, but as an active participant in legislative processes or political lobbying. Ultimately concluding that if AI fully ascends into politics, it needs to be heavily supervised with awareness and caution.

What could the future of AI within politics look like?

Bruce Schneier and Nathan E. Sanders outline six possible political milestones for AI. One of these milestones is the possibility of AI drafting legislation, and it being submitted under its name. One of the other milestones they predict is that AI could achieve a coordinated policy outcome across multiple jurisdictions. Some minor, inconsequential drafts for legislature have already been introduced in some US states, but these have been heavily edited by humans. An interesting milestone could be the potential acceptance of testimony on legislation, or a comment submitted to an agency entirely drafted by Artificial Intelligence. In other words, AI could become able to submit a draft for legislation that is considered to be legitimate. The second milestone was based on how even if AI does not have human desires or needs, it could be programmed to have a goal such as altering taxes or something of the sort, and actively participate in political lobbying. AI has many of the same tools that we do to achieve policy outcomes. It could for example advocate through promoting ideas through digital channels, it could lobby and direct ideas to policymakers, or it could write and propose legislation. There have also been attempts to create political actors powered by AI, such as the Danish Synthetic party – a party with AI as the lead policymaker, which was programmed on materials from several previous Danish ‘micro-‘parties to create proposals for the party’s policy proposals. It for example proposed that Denmark should, based on ancient Greek Democracy, hold a poll that would make it so that ministers are replaced by random citizens every month. The rationale behind this was most likely that the AI knows that many previous Danish micro-parties have sought direct democracy and are tired of representative democracy. Regardless, the synthetic party did not get enough votes to get a seat in parliament, but the idea behind the party inspired many worldwide. It was arguably a fascinating experiment, nonetheless. Ultimately, it is not unlikely that AI will be more significantly more present in politics, aiding at the very least in drafting policies or being used for advocating such policies through digital channels.

What are the potential issues with AI in politics?

It is argued here that the advancements of AI being more present in politics is not entirely unproblematic. In terms of politics, it is here believed that we should be extra cautious about using AI without constraint, to make sure we are holding our legislators to the standards they should be held to. Most of politics is about governing human citizens, and so human citizens should be responsible for it and AI should not assume a politician’s or legislator’s job. Being a politician is arguably a job that is supposed to be challenging. Perhaps AI can help bureaucratic processes and streamline administrative tasks that normally take a substantial amount of time and resources, but this does not mean AI should have a hand in drafting legislation or policy or be accepted as a legitimate source of such drafts. It is argued here that politics require a certain humanity, and this should be maintained. Currently, there are legislative and policy endeavours undertaken to regulate AI. Such as the first legislation regulating AI that is being proposed in the European Union. According to the AI Act, unacceptable risk AI systems that can be considered a threat would be banned. This would include any model that has to do with cognitive behavioural manipulation of people or specific vulnerable groups, such for example voice-activated children’s toys that encourage dangerous behaviors or social scoring models that classify people based on behaviours, socio-economic status, or personal characteristics. Other ‘high risk’ models that are not completely unacceptable must be registered in an EU database. Such as education and vocational training; management of critical infrastructure; law enforcement; migration, asylum, and border control management; or assistance in legal interpretation and application of the law. As well as this, general purpose models, such as ChatGPT would have to comply with transparency requirements disclosing that everything created by it is created by AI. This Act has been accepted by Parliament and the European Council in a provisional agreement and will very likely become official legislation in the near future.

Some worry that AI is a negative influence on politics, whilst others argue that it can only improve human existence on all levels, including within politics. In my opinion, both could be true, and it is a nuanced issue. Zoltan Istvan, a previous US presidential candidate, is a huge advocate for the advancements of AI and talks about how AI is currently only useful for very basic tasks, but that it advances rapidly, doubling its capacity every two years or so. It is argued by Verdict, that if AI lead our governments, we would be able to trust them to do the right thing. However, there are ethical issues with the notion that AI is an objective, unbiased tool for streamlining political tasks. Purely philosophically, who determines what is the ‘right thing to do?’ Judging by whose morality would the AI be programmed? Considering moral relativism and the notion that humans are incapable of being unbiased, AI could potentially not be able to determine a universal morality to act according to in policy decision-making. In terms of processes that require machinery and algorithms, it is probably entirely fair to say that AI can be better or more efficient than us, but it could be considered unrealistic to comment that AI can create objective truth or be unbiased, because it will always be programmed by humans who cannot be. In my opinion, AI is a tool that can be used to make tasks that require organisation, planning, or distribution of political materials, etc., more efficient. However, it should not replace the human politicians behind the foundational ideas for political campaigns, policies, legislation, lobbying, etc.

Further issues with AI taking a significant role in politics could be that it is becoming entirely too easy to falsify information. Some commentators, such as Robert Chesney, argues that the decline of trust in traditional media and the increase of communications and information delivered across social media platforms along with the increasing believability of AI such as deepfakes, can create an increase of misinformation in terms of politics. For example, technologies that alter images or spread misinformation can be used disproportionately to harm vulnerable populations such as women, LGBTQI+, or POC that are running for office. According to the Council of Foreign Affairs, a report from the Centre for Democracy and Technology found that these groups are more likely to be targeted negatively by misinformation campaigns. Furthermore, the increase of AI in politics could provide politicians with a method of refuting accountability for lies or scandals. As the use of fake images increase, any problematic soundbite or video a political person is involved could be claimed to be AI and misconstrued, thereby denying blame. ‘A get-out-of-jail freecard.’

Conclusion

AI continues to fascinate many of us but let us keep in mind that at the end of the day, humans are involved in programming and supervising AI – ethical considerations arguably need to always be at the forefront of any developments within AI. AI is significantly interesting as an immensely fascinating development in evolution and the history of humankind. However, in terms of politics, a lot of people might prefer policies and politicians to reflect humanity and human interests. Though AI can help with minor administrative tasks and ‘busy work’, it should not replace or render less important, the humanity it takes to govern humanity. It is not unwise to be wary of how AI may be misused, for instance by misinformation – this is not AI’s fault, but people potentially seeking to profit or fulfil ulterior motives using AI. Overall, it will continue to be exciting to follow AI’s development in politics, and the most important argument here is that AI must continue to be regulated according to strict ethical considerations.

Thea Nord Berget is an undergraduate student studying law at Newcastle University.

Final Editor Dr Neha Vyas

Academic Lead Dr Neha Vyas

Bernardo Carvalho de Mello

Background

The 2021 Chilean Constitutional Convention was created after a wave of protests in 2019, where thousands of people took to the streets, resulting in 23 deaths. The popular mobilisation for better living conditions only ended when then-president Sebastián Piñera reached an agreement that allowed the 2020 plebiscite to be held on a new constitutional process. At the time, 80% of Chileans voted for a new Constitution. The new Charter would substitute the current 1980 Constitution, drafted and enacted during the harsh military dictatorship headed by Augusto Pinochet.

The convention resulted in a proposal for a new Magna Carta with 388 articles. The document was the first in the country’s history to be written equally between men and women and, if approved, would have been a landmark not only in Latin-American Constitutionalism but worldwide.

Among the constituents were many leaders who did not participate in conventional political debate. One of the most famous examples is that of Giovanna Jazmín Grandón Caro, known as Tía Pikachu. She gained popularity during the 2019 protests for wearing a famous Pokémon cartoon character costume. A big surprise in the formation of the constituent convention was the 48 out of 155 parliamentarians elected to draft the new constitution who presented themselves independent of political parties, Tía Pikachu being one of them. This wing of constituents channelled popular desires for more social rights during in the text. The inclusivity factor was further exemplified by having had 17 reserved seats for indigenous peoples (elected in a parallel ballot) and six constituents who were members of the LGTBI+ community.

Innovations

One of the significant changes in the new text is that Chile was defined as a social democratic state governed by the rule of law. It may seem like subtle wordplay, but it demonstrated that the State would not have a subsidiary role, instead being responsible for reducing inequalities and promoting social rights.

The Constitution also stated that Chile would be a parity state and that 50% of positions in government bodies and public companies must therefore be held by women. Furthermore, it defined the Chilean State as plurinational — which recognises indigenous populations with land demarcation, political representation and administrative autonomy —intercultural and regional.

Another impactful change proposed by the new constitutional text was the creation of a public health, education, and social security system. It also establishes the guarantee of rights such as decent work and housing, in addition to “equitable, fair and efficient remuneration“.

Environment

The new Constitution paid particular attention to the environment. The plebiscite was held amid a heavy water crisis, and the current Constitution and the Water Code of 1981 created conditions for a kind of environmental market. The proposed Constitution included words that did not exist previously, such as guaranteeing and promoting rights. In environmental matters, there were also determinations for conserving the environment. Animals also become holders of rights as they are sentient beings. Water use becomes a fundamental human right, and its priority use becomes human consumption. Had it been approved; the new Constitution would break the private monopoly on water use in Chile.

A ‘Public defender of nature’ would also be created, whose mission was to preserve the environment in cases where action or omission by public or private bodies occurs to the detriment of the environment. The Justice system and its jurisdictional bodies would also have the duty to protect human and natural rights. It would be a move from an anthropocentric, market-based vision of the environment to one more aligned with human rights, elevating nature itself to an entity that holds rights.

Indigenous rights

In contrast to the current Constitution, the new text recognised 11 ethnicities and indigenous nations: Mapuche, Aymara, Rapa Nui, Lickanantay, Quechua, Colla, Diaguita, Chango, Kawashkar, Yaghan and Selk’nam.

It also recognised indigenous peoples as autonomous communities, with the validation of their languages, symbols, and educational institutions. The limit of autonomy, however, was the non-violation of the “unique and indivisible” character of the State of Chile and Chilean laws.

The new Charter validated the right of indigenous people to maintain their health practices and use their traditional medicines.

Work and Retirement pensions

Concerning labour legislation, the new text established the freedom of union organisation and the worker’s freedom of choice to join a union. As well as this, the very definition of ‘work’ would change, through defining what a fair wage should be, as well as validating the right to work remotely where applicable, and the right to strike for every worker. Another revolutionary aspect was salary parity, which determined that all professionals, men and women of any sexual orientation or gender identity, must be paid equally for equal work.

Furthermore, the proposed constitution would create a public pension system, improving the financial situations of retirees.

Significantly, the new text would have been the first constitution to enshrine access to abortion as a right. Beyond this, article 61 would guarantee the free exercise of sexual and reproductive rights without discrimination.

Article 61 of the Proposed Constitution, brought about by a grassroots feminist movement that obtained 15 thousand signatures, stated that the State would guarantee the exercise of sexual and reproductive rights without discrimination. It would be “with a focus on gender, inclusion and cultural relevance, as well as access to information, education, health and the services and benefits necessary for this, ensuring for all women and people capable of generating conditions for a pregnancy, a voluntary interruption of pregnancy voluntary and protected pregnancy, childbirth and motherhood”.

In 1990 Chile was a country far behind in civil rights. Ultraconservative groups such as Opus Dei had a strong influence on the Catholic population. When in 2017, the discredit in institutions was already felt, and the Church seemed weakened after the paedophilia scandals, Chile approved the decriminalisation of abortion in cases of danger to the mother’s life, foetal malformation, and rape.

Where did it all go wrong?

We must ask ourselves, why was this progressive text rejected by the population in the 2022 plebiscite? How come the same population that one year prior approved the writing of a new constitution with a 78.27% majority could now reject it by a margin of 62% to 38%?

While it is almost impossible to identify one single factor in such a major political event, some lessons can be drawn from the process. The “rechazo” (rejection) was a winner in all regions of Chile. Only in eight of 346 municipalities was a majority in favour of the constitutional proposal. The main message of the result is that the text prepared by the Constituent Assembly was not able to convince voters from the centre and part of the centre left.

Errors in the constituency process can be cited as negligence among independent constituents, which made the Assembly look bad among the population. Among the most striking cases is that of a member who pretended to have cancer or another who voted on a proposal while in the shower. Furthermore, the number and scope of fake news disseminated were abhorrent (something that, unfortunately, seems like the rule in all democratic processes in the world).

The discussion of such impactful and complex issues ended up being polarised and contaminated by a series of false news disseminated by groups contrary to the new constitutional text and its supporters. Resistance to change came from a portion of society concerned about the economic impact of the new provisions and from Catholic and evangelical groups who disagreed on the moral aspects.

One of the biggest pieces of misinformation was that it was necessary to reject this constitutional text so that another one could be formulated. Fake news disseminators alleged that it would be necessary to elect a new constituent. However, a new constituent process was not provided anywhere.

Another lie is that the Mapuche people would be able to sell part of Chilean territory to Argentina. This patriotic component in the debate on the new Constitution is not necessarily linked to the country’s economic elite, gaining much reach among ordinary citizens.

Another much-debated argument is that the new Magna Carta represented a copy of the Bolivian Constitution. In a xenophobic, racist and classicist fashion, part of Chile’s population identified Bolivia as an undeveloped country, linking this negative stereotype to how they observed the new Constitution.

Conclusion – hopeful remarks

In summary, while the drafting process marked a historic innovation for the Chilean government, the primary factor contributing to the failure of the proposed constitution was the pervasive presence of fake news and misinformation.

All this does not necessarily mean a glum future for this innovative and progressive Constitution to be approved by the Chilean population.

The process itself was innovative: it featured equal gender composition, mass participation of independent representatives, seats reserved for indigenous people, popular participation mechanisms and sessions outside the capital – to name just a few.

Nevertheless, as recognised by several experts in the field, the most revolutionary point of the process was gender parity, which led 77 women from the most varied professions to debate in the same spaces historically occupied by men. For comparison purposes, Chile’s Chamber of Deputies (lower legislative house) in 2022 had the highest number of women in its history, with just 55 of the 155 representatives, or 35% of the total.

It was the first draft of a new Constitution in which women participated on par in the history of the world. That, in itself, is a gigantic victory and signals progress in the future for Chile and the region.

BERNARDO CARVALHO DE MELLO IS A LAW PHD STUDENT AT NEWCASTLE UNIVERSITY.

Student Editor-in-Chief (NELR Blog) – Thea Nord Berget

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Special Issue

‘New EU & UK Rules for Regulating Competition in Digital Markets’

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