Contract Law A Comparative Introduction (Jan M. Smits) (Z-Library)
Contract Law A Comparative Introduction (Jan M. Smits) (Z-Library)
Contract Law A Comparative Introduction (Jan M. Smits) (Z-Library)
Edward Elgar
Cheltenham, UK • Northampton, MA, USA
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted
in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical or photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the
prior permission of the publisher.
Published by
Edward Elgar Publishing Limited
The Lypiatts
15 Lansdown Road
Cheltenham
Glos GL50 2JA
UK
Contents in fullvii
List of boxesxi
Preface to the third editionxii
How to use this bookxiv
List of abbreviationsxvi
Table of casesxviii
Table of legislation and international instrumentsxxii
PART 1 CONTRACTS
1 Introduction 3
2 Sources of contract law 16
11 Performance 193
12 Damages for non-performance 209
13 Termination of the contract 229
Glossary261
Index275
List of boxes xi
Preface to the third editionxii
How to use this bookxiv
List of abbreviationsxvi
Table of casesxviii
Table of legislation and international instrumentsxxii
PART 1 CONTRACTS
1 Introduction 3
Why contract law? 3
Types of contracts 4
Contract law as part of private law 7
Main principles of contract law 9
Topics for review 14
Further reading 14
6 Formalities101
Reasons for formalities 102
Types of formalities 103
What type of writing is required? On internet shopping 111
Sanctions if a contract lacks the required form 115
Topics for review 117
Further reading 117
11 Performance 193
A. Civil law: Performance as the routine remedy 194
B. English law: Specific performance as an exceptional remedy 200
C. Unforeseen circumstances 202
D. European principles and the Consumer Sales Directive 206
Topics for review 208
Further reading 208
Glossary261
Index275
Over the last two hundred years or so, contract law has been mainly national
in contents and outlook. This is reflected in the abundance of textbooks on
the contract law of national jurisdictions. These textbooks introduce stu-
dents to the national contract law of their own country in their own language.
Next to these traditional books, there is an increasing number of texts avail-
able that offer a comparative, European or even global perspective on the law
of contract – invariably designed to cater for the needs of students who are
already familiar with the fundamentals of contract law. This book seeks to
combine the two: it introduces students to the field of contract law by way of
a comparative approach. It assumes that contract law is an international disci-
pline that can be taught on the basis of common principles and methods, just
like economics, psychology or any other field of academic study. There are
two reasons why this approach is adopted.
differences between, various legal systems are not discussed. To the contrary:
it is exactly by looking at these similarities and differences among jurisdic-
tions that one learns that much of the law is about exploring and contrast-
ing the implications of conflicting views of what is right. It is this approach,
focusing on arguments and policies that is at the core of this book. National
laws are presented as variations on common themes and as alternative ways
of dealing with some common problem.
This book thus caters to the needs of the international classroom. It was
originally written for use in the first-year contract law course of Maastricht
University’s Faculty of Law. The main materials used in the book come from
German, English, French and Dutch law and from international instruments,
but there is also ample attention for other jurisdictions, including those of
Central and Eastern Europe. Background knowledge of comparative law is
not required. Throughout the book separate textboxes provide information
essential to understanding the background to the substantive law, as well as
on other salient issues.
This third edition takes into account the most important developments over
the past four years. These include the enactment of the new European direc-
tives 2019/770 and 2019/771 (discussed here as if already implemented in
the national laws of the member states) and the consequences of the UK
leaving the European Union on 31 January 2020. A new textbox was added
about the effect of COVID-19 on contracts. The purpose of the book remains
as it was: to be a rewarding and stimulating tool in the study of contract law.
Comments are most welcome at jan.smits@maastrichtuniversity.nl.
Maastricht/Liège, October 2020
An academic textbook like this cannot be read like a novel. Although each
student has their own technique of studying, some suggestions on how to
master this book may be helpful.
This book consists of six parts, each asking a central question of contract law:
Part 4: Can a validly formed contract be ‘avoided’ (set aside) and if so, for
what reason?
Each part of the book consists of several chapters. Both the parts and the
chapters are preceded by an outline that highlights the key themes. It is a
good idea to get acquainted with the topics of a certain part or chapter by
first reading these outlines, followed by a first read of the chapter, skipping
the separate textboxes. After reading the list of Topics for review at the end
of each chapter, reread the chapter more slowly, making sure that you under-
stand each step of the argument. The law is often about structuring a topic (a
problem and its possible solutions) in a certain way; you need to make sure
that you are able to reproduce this structure and it usually helps a lot if you
try to make your own summary of the topic. It can be immensely useful to
make this summary by drawing your own table. You will find ready-to-use
tables in some parts of the book, but is highly advisable to build your own
ones when you go through the materials.
issues. The textboxes will often make the main points fall into place. A glos-
sary with definitions and key points is provided at the end of the book. If you
come across a concept that you are uncertain about, it is likely that you will
find it in the glossary. Remember that studying law is not about memorising
these definitions and key points, but about understanding them. If the glos-
sary does not provide you with an answer, check the index to see where a
concept is discussed in more detail. The table of statutes and table of cases
refer you to legislation and case law.
At the end of each chapter suggestions are made for further reading. If ref-
erence is made to case law or to non-reproduced statutory provisions, it is
highly advisable to consult these yourself. Links to English translations are
provided on the companion website, which is available at https://www.
e-elgar.com/textbooks/smits
Fl Dutch guilder
HGB Handelsgesetzbuch (German Commercial Code)
HL House of Lords
HR Hoge Raad (Dutch Supreme Court)
J Judge, Justice
L Partie législative (of the French Consumer Code)
LJ Lord Justice
NGO Non-Governmental Organisation
NJ Nederlandse Jurisprudentie
OR Obligationenrecht (Swiss Law of Obligations)
p(p) page(s)
PECL Principles of European Contract Law
PICC UNIDROIT Principles of International Commercial Contracts
R Partie réglementaire (of the French Consumer Code)
RG Reichsgericht (highest German court until 1945)
RGZ Entscheidungen des Reichsgerichts in Zivilsachen (Decisions of
the German Reichsgericht in Civil Cases)
TEU Treaty on European Union
TFEU Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union
UCC Uniform Commercial Code (USA)
UCTA Unfair Contract Terms Act 1977
vol(s) volume(s)
ZPO Zivilprozessordnung (German Code of Civil Procedure)
§ Paragraph
France
Germany
Netherlands
United Kingdom
Investors Compensation Scheme Ltd v West Bromwich Building Society [1998] 1 WLR
896�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������124
Krell v Henry [1903] 2 KB 740���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������203, 215
Leeds United Football Club v The Chief Constable of West Yorkshire Police [2013] EWCA
Civ 115������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 82
Liston v Owners of the SS Carpathian [1915] 2 KB 42���������������������������������������������������������������������������199
Liverpool City Council v Irwin [1977] AC 239�����������������������������������������������������������������������������������133–4
Lloyd’s Bank Ltd v Bundy [1975] QB 326������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������171
Lord Napier and Ettrick v R F Kershaw Ltd [1999] 1 WLR 756����������������������������������������������������������125
Lovell & Christmas Ltd v Wall (1911) 104 LT 85�����������������������������������������������������������������������������������124
Lumley v Wagner [1852] EWHC Ch J96�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������200
The Moorcock [1889] LR 14 PD 64����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������132
Nicolene Ltd v Simmonds [1953] 1 All ER 822���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������214
Paradine v Jane [1647] 4 KB�����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������214
ParkingEye Limited v Beavis [2015] UKSC 67����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������226
Partridge v Crittenden [1968] 1 WLR 1204����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 45
Pascoe v Turner [1979] 1 WLR 431����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������117
Pharmaceutical Society v Boots [1953] 1 QB 401������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 51
Printing and Numerical Registering Co v Sampson [1875] 19 Eq 462��������������������������������������������������� 12
Proform Sports Management Ltd v Proactive Sports Management Ltd [2007] 1 All ER 542������������� 93
Radmacher (formerly Granatino) v Granatino [2010] UKSC 42��������������������������������������������������������� 77
Raffles v Wichelhaus (Peerless) [1864] 2 H&C 906��������������������������������������������������������������������������������162
Read v J Lyons & Co [1947] AC 156������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 9
Shirlaw v Southern Foundries Ltd [1939] 2 KB 206��������������������������������������������������������������������������������132
Smith v Hughes [1871] LR 6 QB 597������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 66, 172
Spice Girls Ltd v Aprilia World Service BV [2002] EWCA Civ 15�������������������������������������������������������175
Spring v Guardian Assurance plc [1994] 3 All ER 129���������������������������������������������������������������������������133
Spurling Ltd v Bradshaw [1956] 1 WLR 461�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������151
Stilk v Myrick [1809] EWHC KB J58�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 82, 83
Taylor v Caldwell [1863] 122 ER 309����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������201, 215
Thornton v Shoe Lane Parking [1971] 2 QB 163�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 47
Tinn v Hoffman [1873] 29 LT 271�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 56
Tsakiroglou & Co Ltd v Noblee Thorl GmbH [1962] AC 93 ����������������������������������������������������������������201
Walford v Miles [1992] 1 All ER 453��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������142
White v Jones [1995] 2 AC 207������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������250
Williams v Roffey Bros & Nicholls (Contractors) Ltd [1990] 2 WLR 1153�������������������������������82–3, 86
Yam Seng Pte Ltd v International Trade Corp Ltd [2013] EWHC 111�����������������������������������������������146
Yates Building Co Ltd v R J Pulleyn & Sons (York) Ltd [1975] 237 EG 183����������������������������������������� 56
Other
United States District Court for the Southern District of New York, 200 F 287 (Hotchkiss v National
City bank of New York)���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������123
United States Court of Appeals, 572 F.3d 677 (9th Cir. 2009) (Doe v Wal-Mart Stores)�������������252
Supreme Court of New Jersey, 109 N.J. 396 (N.J. 1988) (Baby M)��������������������������������������������������185
International
Convention on Contracts for the International Sale of Goods (CISG) see in Index, UN Convention
on Contracts for the International Sale of Goods (CISG)
Draft Common Frame of Reference of European Private Law (DCFR) see in Index, sources of
contract law, European law, Draft Common Frame of Reference of European Private Law (DCFR)
European Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms (ECHR)
97, 182
Principles of European Contract Law (PECL) see in Index, sources of contract law, European law,
Principles of European Contract Law (PECL) (Lando Principles)
UNIDROIT Convention on International Factoring, see in Index, UNIDROIT Convention on
International Factoring
UNIDROIT Principles of International Commercial Contracts (PICC) see in Index, UNIDROIT
Principles of International Commercial Contracts (PICC)
European Union
France Switzerland
Contracts
Part 1 of this book discusses two main issues: what is contract law and what
are its sources.
CHAPTER OVERVIEW
A contract is usually associated with a piece of paper through which one buys
a house, takes up a job or ensures access to a mobile phone network, for
example. Although these transactions can in most cases indeed be qualified as
binding contracts, the law uses a broader definition. In any given jurisdiction,
contracts are defined as legally binding agreements, irrespective of whether
they are written down or not. This means that, in law, people conclude con-
tracts when they buy products in a supermarket, take out insurance, download
Contract software, are treated by their doctor or go to the hairdresser. Contracts can
even come about in cases where no word is spoken at all, as in case of putting
money into a machine to buy a cup of coffee and of computerised derivatives
trading. Each agreement that qualifies as legally binding – and therefore as a
contract – needs to meet certain requirements, that are discussed in Part 2
of this book. This chapter discusses the concept of a contract in general and
seeks to introduce the main principles of contract law.
ensure that supply and demand correspond to each other. Such a market
economy – no matter if it comes in the version of continental Rhineland, the
Nordic social model, Anglo-American capitalism or China’s socialism –
Contract law cannot do without contracts. Contract law in turn ensures that these con-
tracts are binding, and can therefore be enforced in the courts in case the
other party does not perform. This turns contract law – the rules and princi-
ples that govern transactions among parties – into the cement of modern
society: it enables market actors (individuals and companies, but also gov-
ernment bodies, municipalities, NGOs, charities, etc.) to participate in eco-
nomic and social life. A manufacturer would not be able to run its business if
customers could simply renege on their orders. I would not be able to lead a
normal life if my landlord were allowed to evict me from my apartment any
time she received a better offer from a potential tenant. Contract law thus
allows planning by individual members of society. Aristotle, in his Rhetorics
(I, 14, 22), already saw this: ‘… so that if you destroy the authority of con-
tracts, the mutual intercourse of men is destroyed’. This does not mean that
no alternative ways of organising society are available (see Box 1.1), but
they are difficult to reconcile with today’s views of what a society must look
like.
Types of contracts
Most rules and principles of contract law are designed to apply to any con-
tract, regardless of the type of party and the type of obligations the parties
take upon them. In principle, it does not matter whether the contract con-
cerns the purchase of a pen or a one billion euro takeover: as will become
clear in this book, both transactions are governed by the same principles
General
character of (such as the freedom to decide what the conditions are) and rules (notably
contract law on the formation of the contract through offer and acceptance, interpreta-
tion, performance, damages, etc.). This is not just a matter of systematic
rigidity: the implicit assumption behind it is that the law must treat all con-
tracts and parties equally, no matter what they contract about or who they
are. What one party is entitled to, must also be afforded to the other party.
Classification Despite this general character of contract law, lawyers usually distinguish
between different types of contracts. One can classify contracts on basis of
the parties involved, the main characteristics of the contract, and the reason
why parties want to be bound.
It is obvious that not all contracting parties are the same. A multinational
company aiming to build a new factory does not have much in common with
a student looking for a new pair of shoes. This is why contracts are usually
BOX 1.1
The law of contract, tort and restitution are often lumped together under
Law of
obligations the heading of ‘law of obligations.’ This is because they can all give rise to so-
called ‘obligations’, a legal term indicating that a (usually) enforceable duty
exists of one person vis-à-vis another person or several other persons. In a
bilateral contract, such as sale, typically two obligations come into being:
the obligation of the buyer to pay the price and the obligation of the seller to
deliver the good. While in case of a contract, this obligation arises voluntarily
because a party intends to be legally bound, in case of a tort the obligation
is imposed upon a person independent of its intention, usually because the
law wants to attach consequences to wrongful behaviour causing damage
to the victim. Typical tort cases concern victims claiming damages for per-
sonal injury (as in case of assault, medical negligence or liability for defective
products such as exploding iPhones) or for defamation (think of publishing
false statements damaging someone’s reputation). This distinction between
voluntary (self-imposed) and non-voluntary obligations is as old as the civil
law tradition itself: it was already set out as the summa divisio (ultimate parti-
tion) in the Institutes, a textbook for law students written by the Roman jurist
Gaius around the year 160.
This classification of different areas of law into one system of private law,
as well as of different types of obligations into one law of obligations, is
typical for the civil law tradition. German, French or Polish textbooks, for
example, only tend to deal with contract law as part of book series on the law
English law of obligations, if not on private law as a whole. This is different in the English
BOX 1.2
common law, in which such academic rationalisation has long been absent.
The first comprehensive book on the English law of obligations was only
published in 2010 and is seen as an outlier. What one does find, however, are
separate textbooks on contract law, the law of torts, property law, etc. This
different mentality was well captured by the English judge Macmillan who
in 1947 called upon his fellow-judges not to rationalise the law of England:
BOX 1.3
arguments ‘based on legal consistency are apt to mislead for the common law
is a practical code adapted to deal with the manifold diversities of human life,
and as a great American judge has reminded us, “the life of the law has not
been logic; it has been experience”’ (Read v J Lyons & Co).
the French and the Dutch Constitution lack an explicit provision on the
rule of law, while the German Civil Code does not codify the binding force
of contract. As principles all refer to fundamental standards, it is difficult to
prioritise one principle over another: they can contradict each other. In addi-
tion, principles are so broad that they are never without exceptions. Given
this meaning, we can say that contract law is governed by four principles:
freedom of contract, binding force, the absence of formalities and contractual
fairness.
It must be clear that this principle can never be applied across the board. In
General
the messy reality of daily life, many parties do not have the bargaining power
conditions needed to choose the terms they like best. The reality is that consumer-
buyers, insurees, tenants, employees and smaller businesses often simply
have to accept the terms dictated to them by their economically stronger
and more experienced counterparts. Often, these terms come in the form of
general conditions (see Chapter 8) that the other party is indifferent about
and simply accepts without bothering to read them. This is why legislators
and courts tend to intervene to protect the interests of the weaker party:
contracts like employment, residential lease, consumer credit and con-
sumer sale are governed by a myriad of mandatory laws that set limits to the
freedom of the professional party. This means that sometimes so little is left
of the freedom to contract that one speaks of regulated contracts (see Box 1.5
below).
The second main principle of contract law is that the contract is binding
Binding force
upon the parties (binding force). Each party has to perform the obligations it
took upon itself and if it fails to do so, the court can intervene at the request
of the other party. We will see in Part 5 that the law can react in different ways
to ensure the binding force of the contract: it can force the defaulting party
to perform the contract (as is the normal remedy in civil law jurisdictions),
or it can prefer to have the debtor pay damages (as in the common law).
Both reactions, however, are evidence of the principle that a contract must be
upheld. No one is forced to enter into a contract, but if one does, one is bound
by it in the same way as if the rules therein had been made by the legislator.
The French Civil Code of 1804 – drafted at the peak of the autonomy of
the individual citizen – encapsulates this succinctly in its famous Art. 1103:
‘Agreements lawfully entered into have the force of law for those who have
made them.’ This elevates a contract to the same level of bindingness as a
democratically enacted statute. However, as no principle is without excep-
tions, here too it is possible that the binding force might be set aside, for
example if the contract contains a clause that the law considers to be unfair or
prohibited (Chapters 8 and 10).
The third principle is that contracts do not require any particular form (prin-
Informality
ciple of informality). This is the necessary corollary of the rule we briefly
encountered before: if parties are legally bound to the contract because they
intend to be bound, their intention is apparently sufficient and there is, as a
matter of principle at least, no need to put the contract into writing, to utter
solemn words, to visit a notary, to have a witness present, or to hand over the
good in order to make it binding. Lawyers speak of the mere agreement that
suffices for a contract to exist, or consensus ad idem. Although this principle
may be self-evident to us, it has taken 2000 years of legal history to accept
that most contracts can do without formalities (see Box 1.4). Throughout
this book, we will encounter exceptions to the principle (see also Chapter 6).
The fourth and final main principle of contract law is that of contractual fair-
ness (Vertragsgerechtigkeit; justice contractuelle). Of the four principles dis-
cussed in this chapter, it is the one that is the least precise. This is because
views of what is ‘fair’ fundamentally differ. One extreme is to apply the idea
that a fair contract consists of simply following what the contracting parties
agreed upon when they exercised their autonomy. If an individual is in a better
position than anyone else – including a judge – to decide what is in their own
interest and they conclude a contract conscious of its consequences, it is fair
to hold this individual to what he or she agreed upon. The famous French
aphorism to describe this view is: ‘Qui dit contractuel dit juste’ (‘the contrac-
tual is fair out of itself ’). In this view the law is not concerned with the fair-
ness of the outcome or with the extent to which a contract is in line with the
public interest. The English judge George Jessel in 1875 explained it like this:
‘if there is one thing more than another which public policy requires, it is that
men of full age and competent understanding shall have the utmost liberty of
contracting and that their contracts, when entered into freely and voluntarily,
BOX 1.4
shall be held sacred and shall be enforced by Courts of Justice’ (Printing and
Numerical Registering Co v Sampson, 1875).
This view still largely forms the basis for our present-day contract law, be it
Two types of
that even the most liberal of contract lawyers accept that the conditions under
fairness which contractual autonomy is exercised are often flawed, and that the law
therefore needs to intervene to protect one party against the other. It could be
that a party misleads another by lying about the qualities of the sold product,
preventing the latter from forming his intention in the right way (Chapter
9). It could also be that a party is presumed to lack the necessary judgment
BOX 1.5
REGULATED CONTRACTS
Although the main principles of contract shortage of labour and housing – and most
law discussed in this chapter adequately jurisdictions therefore lay down detailed
describe the great majority of commercial rules aiming to protect the employee (on
(B2B) contracts and contracts among indi- dismissal, sick leave, safety at the work-
viduals (C2C), it is beyond doubt that most place, etc.) and the tenant (on access to
contracts relevant to the average person are the property, notice, maintenance, etc.) In
heavily regulated by the public authorities. some cases the law sets maximum prices (as
There is a good reason for this: despite the in some jurisdictions with public housing,
presumption that everyone is free to con- health care, certain insurance contracts,
clude the contract he or she wants, reality electricity and gas), or even forces people
is different. Economic and societal factors to enter into a contract (as in countries that
can have a grave impact on the freedom to require their citizens to have mandatory
choose. Some contracts are even so much health insurance). In particular the liberalisa-
constrained by mandatory laws that one tion of markets for energy, infrastructure
can speak of ‘regulated contracts’. In these (such as railways) and telecom in the 1990s
contracts the main decision to be taken by opened up a wide potential for the use of
parties is whether to enter into the contract, contracts as regulatory instruments: what
while the freedom left to decide upon its used to be public law was turned into
terms is severely curtailed. Good examples (heavily regulated) private law. The regula-
are employment contracts and residential tion aims to ensure access to these basic
leases. Both contracts are characterised by services and to avoid abuse of position by
the strong bargaining position of employer suppliers.
and landlord – in particular in times of
Distributive At the other extreme, we find the view that a contract should also be an
function instrument to (re)distribute wealth in society. It should help the poor and
the weak at the expense of the rich and the strong. If a contract clearly favours
one party over the other, the law should intervene and either declare the con-
tract void or adapt it to meet requirements of social justice. This would first
require a political choice that best reflects the collective goals of society, but
once this choice is made the courts should apply it when being confronted
with ‘unfair’ contracts. It is not difficult to criticise this view. Redistribution
of wealth is traditionally the domain of politics, which does so by way of
progressive taxation. But when it comes to a contract, it is difficult for a judge
to assess whether it contributes to social justice or not. It would turn the
court into a highly political institution. What is more, it is probable that no
‘stronger’ contracting party will still be willing to conclude a contract with a
weaker one if its bindingness is debatable. As Kötz states:
Of course some people will fare better than others. A person is obviously going to
prosper if nature has endowed him with greater abilities and talents, if his parents
provide him with more capital or superior education, or if Lady Luck smiles on him
more frequently. But the adjustment of differences in income and wealth in a manner
consonant with standards of fairness and social justice is surely the role of tax laws and
the social services which taxes pay for, rather than the mission of the law of contract.
This does not mean that no elements of substantive contractual fairness can
be found in contract law. We will encounter some of these in Chapter 8.
FURTHER READING
– Frances Quinn, Elliott and Quinn’s Contract Law, 12th ed., Harlow (Pearson) 2019.
– Hein Kötz, European Contract Law Vol. 1 (translated by Tony Weir), Oxford (Oxford University
Press) 1997 (2nd ed. 2017).
– Anthony Kronman, ‘Contract Law and Distributive Justice,’ Yale LJ 89 (1980), 472
– Henry Sumner Maine, Ancient Law, London ( John Murray) 1861.
– Study Group on Social Justice in European Private Law, ‘Social Justice in European Contract
Law: A Manifesto,’ European Law Journal (2004), 661.
– Reinhard Zimmermann, The Law of Obligations: Roman Foundations of the Civilian Tradition,
Cape Town ( Juta) 1990 (paperback edition with Oxford University Press, Oxford 1996).
CHAPTER OVERVIEW
This chapter examines where to look for the rules and principles of con-
tract law. It shows that contract law flows from a variety of sources:
National jurisdictions differ with regard to the hierarchical place they give to
each of these sources. The main rift in Europe is the one between civil law,
which places legislation (in particular codification) at the top of the pyramid,
and common law, which gives a predominant role to judge-made law.
Contract law is the set of rules and principles that governs transactions
among parties, thereby establishing those parties’ enforceable rights and
obligations. This chapter investigates where we find these rules and princi-
ples. It is obvious why this is an important question: if one is not able to dis-
tinguish between the relevant contract law and other types of norms, either
every norm could be enforced in the courts (including, for example, the rule
that one must eat with knife and fork and rules and customs of the Mafia), or
none at all (with a lawless society as a result). It will be seen that, while each
jurisdiction recognises the same sources of law, the relative weight of these
sources differs from one jurisdiction to another.
The various rules of contract law are widely diverse in nature. This chapter
Sources
presents these rules on the basis of their origins. Such a categorisation on
the basis of sources allows us to distinguish between three types of rules
relevant to contract law: rules that are made by the contracting parties them-
selves (the party agreement), rules that emerge from the official national,
European and supranational sources (official sources) and, finally, informal
rules that are made by others than the official institutions, including non-
Contractual rules need not be made for one contract only. In practice com-
mercial parties often make use of standardised sets of rules that are suited to
their own interests. These so-called general conditions, or standard forms, are
used by almost all professional parties (including supermarkets and retailers)
for the contracts they conclude with consumers or other professional parties.
The advantages of this are clear: it saves a party from having to negotiate and
draft contract conditions for every new contract it wants to conclude. When
used in a B2C-contract the law has always been suspicious of standard terms.
In so far as the consumer is even willing to read and understand the standard
terms, he is hardly ever in the position to renegotiate them: it is a matter of
accepting the conditions or not contracting with this party at all. This is why
legislators and courts have developed mechanisms to avoid that the consumer
is confronted with general conditions that are too one-sided (Chapter 8).
Official sources
It is clear that in most cases the party agreement alone cannot set all rights and
obligations under the contract. Often, parties only discuss those elements of
the contract that they consider essential (such as the price and the time of
delivery), not saying anything about other aspects (such as the place of deliv-
ery or what will happen if the other party does not perform the contract). In
so far as such matters are not covered by general conditions, the law should
provide so-called default (or ‘facilitative’) rules that are automatically appli-
Default rules cable if the parties have not made any other arrangements. Default rules are
thus rules that parties can deviate from: they are applicable subject to agree-
ment otherwise and fill the gaps left open by the parties (see Chapter 7). It
may also happen that parties would like to contract in a way that is considered
contrary to law, public policy or good morals (such as hiring someone to steal
a painting, or – to give a more disputed example – paying someone to give
birth to a baby, discussed in Chapter 10). In such cases, the law may have to
intervene with so-called mandatory rules that declare such a contract void, or
Mandatory at least avoidable by one of the parties. Both facilitative and mandatory laws
rules can flow from the ‘official’ national, European and supranational sources.
National law
Official contract law at the national level is primarily produced by the legis-
lature and the courts. In civil law countries, general rules on contract law are
typically found in the Civil Code. Thus, the French Code Civil (CC) of 1804
places contract law in its Book III on the different ways of acquiring property,
whereas the German Bürgerliches Gesetzbuch (BGB) of 1900 has general pro-
visions on juridical acts (see Box 1.3) in Book 1 and specific rules on contracts
in Book 2. The Dutch Burgerlijk Wetboek (BW) of 1992 places the provisions
on juridical acts in Book 3, on contracts in general in Book 6 and on specific
contracts in Book 7. To get a better picture of the central place of contract law
in these three codes, their tables of contents are reproduced below.
French Code Civil
Preliminary Title: Of the Publication, Effect and Application of
Laws in General (art. 1–6)
Book I. Of Persons (art. 7–515-13)
(…)
Book II. Of Property and of the Different Modifications of
Property (art. 515-14–710-1)
(…)
Book III. Of the Different Ways to Acquire Property (art.
711–2279)
Title I Of Successions
Title II Of Donations
Title III Of the Sources of Obligations
Title IV Of the General Regime of Obligations
Title V Of the Contract of Marriage and of Matrimonial
Regimes
Title VI Of Sales
Title VII Of Barter
Title VIII Of the Contract of Hiring
Title VIII-bis Of the Contract of Real Estate Promotion
Title IX Of the Contract of Partnership and Companies
Title IX-bis Of Agreements Relating to the Exercise of
Undivided Rights
Title X Of Loans
Title XI Of Deposit and Sequestration
Title XII Of Contracts of Chance
Title XIII Of mandate
(…)
Book IV. Of Securities (art. 2288–2488)
(…)
Title 17 Co-Ownership
Title 18 Life Annuity
Title 19 Imperfect Obligations
Title 20 Suretyship
Title 21 Settlement
Title 22 Promise to fulfil an Obligation; Acknowledgement
of Debt
Title 23 Order
Title 24 Bearer Bond
Title 25 Presentation of Things
Title 26 Unjustified Enrichment
Title 27 Torts
Book 3 Law of Property (§§ 854–1296)
(…)
Book 4 Family Law (§§ 1297–2385)
(…)
These tables of contents of three major European civil codes reveal a number
of differences in their treatment of contract law. The oldest code, that of
France, is sometimes referred to as ‘the code of the owner’: the fact that it
places contract law in the book on ways to acquire property is clear evidence of
the post-revolutionary focus on property (a right ‘sacred and inviolable’ as the
French Constitution says) as the most important right of the citizen. Until the
grand reform of 2016 (see below), the French Code lacked a general part on
the law of obligations. The French lawmaker sought to repair this deficiency
by revamping and renaming Titles III and IV of Book III. However, it would be
an overstatement to say that this led to a whole new system of French contract
law: the reform was more the work of a carpenter than of an architect.
The German and the Dutch Code are much more systematised: they are
Layered drafted as a coherent whole with a high level of abstraction. They both have
structure a so-called layered structure, which means that the more general provisions
precede the more specific ones, thus avoiding repetition. The reverse of this
internal economy of the Code is that only trained lawyers are able to find
their way through the scattered provisions. In the Dutch Code, for example,
a contract of sale is governed by the provisions in Title 2 of Book 3 on juridi-
cal acts, by Title 5 of Book 6 on contracts in general, and by the provisions
specific to the sales contract in Title 1 of Book 7 (with even more specific
rules on consumer sales within this Title). A similar need to go through the
entire Code exists in the German case, where one finds the juridical act in
the General part of Book 1 (containing rules relevant for all areas of private
law, including the law of obligations, property, succession and family law)
and a whole range of different rules on the law of obligations in general
(Divisions 1–7) and on specific contracts (a large part of Division 8) in
Book 2.
The French, German and Dutch Civil Codes have undergone significant
Reforms
changes in the last two decades. The German Schuldrechtsmodernisier-
ungsgesetz (Act on the Modernisation of the Law of Obligations) of 2002
incorporated doctrines developed by the courts and academia (such as
precontractual liability) and made important changes to the law of con-
tractual remedies and consumer protection, partly to incorporate law of
European origin. In the Netherlands, the change was even more radical as
the country adopted a whole new Civil Code that replaced the old Code
of 1838, which was based on the French Code Civil. The nine books of the
new Code have gradually entered into force since 1970 when Book 1 was
introduced (Book 10 on Private International Law became law in 2012;
Book 9 on Intellectual Property is yet to be introduced and the same is
true for some specific contracts that are still covered by the Code of 1838
and that are brought together in the provisional Book 7A). Partly inspired
by these modernisation efforts, as well as by the wish to re-establish the
French Code as an attractive model abroad, the French Ministry of Justice
introduced a major reform of French contract law in 2016. Next to a
reformulation and renumbering of existing provisions, this reform brought
some changes in the existing law. These changes will be dealt with in the
subsequent chapters.
Next to the civil code, many civil law countries have more specific statutes in
Specific statutes
which contract law can be found. France, for example, has adopted a separate
Consumer Code (Code de la Consommation) that collects and consolidates
laws on consumer protection, as well as a Commercial Code that provides
additional rules on B2B-contracts. Germany also keeps some laws outside
the BGB, such as the Product Liability Act (Produkthaftungsgesetz) of 1989
and statutory implementations of recent European directives (see below).
The dominant source of contract law in the common law family is not legis-
lation but the case law developed by the courts. The primary reaction of an
English judge or lawyer when confronted with a contract case is to consult
the decisions of the Supreme Court of the United Kingdom (until 2009
the judicial division of the House of Lords) and of the Court of Appeal of
English law England and Wales. This does not mean that specific statutes on contract
law are absent in England. They just do not aim to comprehensively sys-
tematise the existing law, nor do they make it redundant to consult judicial
decisions. In most cases statutes only attempt to amend the common law on
a particular point. The most important statutes on contract law are the Sale
of Goods Act 1979, the Misrepresentation Act 1967, the Unfair Contract
Terms Act 1977 and the Contracts (Rights of Third Parties) Act 1999. In
2015 the Consumer Rights Act (CRA) was introduced. This statute, essen-
tially consolidating the English implementations of EU directives, is gener-
ally considered as the biggest overhaul in consumer law in a generation. It
remains to be seen how the CRA will be affected by Brexit. The rules of
European origin laid down in the CRA are completely part and parcel of
UK domestic law and will continue to be in force. The UK government
may choose to repeal or amend the CRA, for example in case it regards its
consumer-friendly rules as burdensome, but it is too soon to say whether
this will happen.
BOX 2.1
to the benefit of the (democratic) legislator, that the dominant role of the Civil Code in
but it may still make use of the substantive civil law jurisdictions means that case law is
rules, arguments and principles of the pre- not important. This was the naïve view of
codified time. eighteenth-century legislators that indeed
A third essential element of the civil tried to cover every possible situation, the
law tradition is its overall mentality. This is Prussian civil code of 1794 (the Allgemeines
well captured in Schlesinger’s textbook on Landrecht) being a frightening example
Comparative Law: ‘The very idea of codifica- with no less than 19,000 articles. We still
tion rests on the (…) belief that the human find a reminiscence of this in Art. 5 of the
mind could use reason to project the solu- French Code Civil stating that ‘The courts
tion of future controversies in a systematic shall be prohibited from issuing rules which
and comprehensive manner. (…) … a true take the form of general and binding deci-
code [is] a systematic, authoritative and sions on those cases which are submitted
direction-giving statute of broad coverage to them.’ Reality is different. The Code is
(…).’ The civilian mentality is thus one of sometimes not only silent, but also needs
trying to systematise the law by developing interpretation in the light of the circum-
principles and concepts with a view to stances of the case and changed views in
their application in future cases. If there is society of what is right. The older the Civil
any jurisdiction in which this comes out, it Code, the more important it therefore is to
is German law, on which the comparatist take note of the decisions of the highest
Markesinis once wrote: national court in civil law matters, such as
the German Bundesgerichtshof, the French
German private law is a meticulous piece of
Cour de Cassation and the Dutch Hoge
legal engineering which, by use of concepts,
Raad. Art. 1 of the Swiss Civil Code (1907)
attributes legal solutions to legal problems as
well reflects how important the task of the
precisely and mercilessly as a Swiss chronom-
court can still be as it assigns to the court
eter ticks away the years, hours, and seconds
the task of acting as a substitute legislator:
of a human life from the cradle to the grave.
German law, it has been suggested, is forever The Code governs all questions of law which
prepared to sacrifice notions of justice to the come within the letter or the spirit of any of
altar of the concept. its provisions. If the Code does not furnish an
applicable provision, the judge shall decide in
In line with this, academic writing has great
accordance with customary law, and failing
persuasive authority in Germany and is
that, according to the rule which he would
often quoted by the courts (in contrast to
establish as legislator. In this he shall be
England, where at least until recently only
guided by approved legal doctrine and judicial
deceased authors could be cited under the
tradition.
rule: ‘Better read when dead’).
It would be a grave mistake to assume
BOX 2.2
European law
Contract law also flows from European sources. In the last 25 years, the
European legislature has promulgated over 15 ‘directives’ with relevance for
contract law. Article 288 of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European
Directives Union (TFEU) describes a directive as a European legislative instrument
that ‘shall be binding, as to the result to be achieved, upon each Member
State to which it is addressed, but shall leave to the national authorities the
choice of form and methods’. This means that, unlike the name suggests, a
Rationale directive obliges each of the 27 EU-Member states to implement its rules into
national law. After this implementation, the directive’s rules are in force as if
they had been created by a national legislator, be it that the Court of Justice
of the European Union (CJEU) is competent to interpret the directive at
the request of a national court (in the so-called preliminary reference proce-
dure). The reason why the EU is active in the field of contract law is directly
BOX 2.3
jurisdictions were merged procedurally: the social conduct than as a set of rules of deci-
common law and equity courts were com- sion for the relatively few disputes that cannot
bined in one and the same court that from be settled extra-judicially. (. . .) Those ex-
then on had to apply both sets of rules. barristers who occupy the bench are close to
The plaintiff was also no longer required to the course of affairs and know how to decide
indicate whether he was seeking a common a concrete case that is presented to the court
law or equitable remedy. Substantively, in oral contradictory trial by the members of a
however, both systems have continued to highly experienced bar.
exist beside each other. This is for example
Unlike their civil law colleagues, English
clearly visible in the law of contractual
judges are often prepared to discuss and
remedies: while the action for damages is
balance the policy considerations that
a common law remedy, the claim for spe-
underlie a particular rule in all openness.
cific performance is an equitable one (see
By doing so the court gives insight into the
Part 5).
reasons for making a particular decision.
Also in its overall mentality, the common
English judges often adopt a personal,
law is different from the civil law. English
sometimes even literary, style, which is natu-
lawyers do not tend to look at the law as a
rally promoted by the possibility of deliver-
coherent system, but rather as a set of prac-
ing dissenting and concurring opinions. This
tical rules. The German-American compara-
is consistent with the scepticism in England
tist Max Rheinstein once put it like this:
concerning the proposition that there is
policies are not always followed with consist- only one outcome logically considered to be
ency, nor are concepts always clean-cut; the correct.
law is thought of less as a body of norms of
related to the main aim of the EU: the development of a European single
market in which the free movement of goods, services, capital and persons is
ensured and in which European citizens are free to live, work and do business
wherever they want. However, unlike national legislators, the EU can only act
in so far as a competence to do so is provided in one of the European treaties.
For contract law the source of this competence is usually found in Art. 114
TFEU, which allows the European legislator to adopt measures harmonis-
ing national provisions ‘which have as their object the establishment and
functioning of the internal market’. The European Commission has always
been keen to argue that differences among the contract laws of the Member
States hinder this internal market. In the words of the Commission itself in a
Communication it issued in 2001:
For consumers and SMEs in particular, not knowing other contract law regimes
may be a disincentive against undertaking cross-border transactions. (…)
Suppliers of goods and services may even therefore regard offering their goods
BOX 2.4
By harmonising at least some of these rules, the EU hopes that more busi-
nesses and consumers will be willing to contract across borders. If a Spanish
trader would like to buy goods from a party in Germany, it may refrain from
doing so because it does not know German law. A diligent party will in any
event have to obtain expensive legal advice before entering into the contract.
Creating a level playing field of one harmonised law must help to avoid this.
Likewise, a consumer in Liège wishing to buy a TV at the Mediamarkt in
Maastricht may be less inclined to do so because of diverging laws – or at
least this is how the European Commission reasons.
BOX 2.5
Supranational law
A third source of official contract law consists of supranational rules. Long
before the EU had such a pervasive influence on national contract laws
by issuing directives, there have been efforts to unify parts of the law on
a regional or even global scale. A successful example is the unification of
conflict-of-laws rules in the context of the Hague Conference on Private
International Law (established in 1893). Also parts of substantive trade law
have been unified, led by the United Nations Commission on International
Trade Law (UNCITRAL). Its most important achievement is the Convention
CISG on Contracts for the International Sale of Goods (CISG), concluded in Vienna
in 1980 and in force since 1988. The CISG has been ratified in 94 states and
contains rules that apply to commercial cross-border sales contracts. If both
contracting parties are a business and they reside in a country that has ratified
the CISG, the rules of the convention are applicable to the contract unless
the parties have explicitly excluded it. For example: because Israel and the
Netherlands are both a party to the CISG, an Israeli company selling oranges
to a Dutch business is governed by the rules of the convention on, e.g. forma-
tion of contract and remedies in case of non-performance.
Just like the European directives discussed in the above, the CISG is inspired
by the idea that the adoption of uniform rules promotes the development
of international trade. This is in fact facilitated by the fact that the CISG
is applicable in the world’s largest economies, including the United States,
China, Japan, Germany, Brazil and Russia. The most notable European
trading country where the CISG is not applicable is the UK. It is said that
the main reason for this lies in a lack of interest of domestic business and in
the fear that London may lose its edge as one of the world’s leaders in inter-
national arbitration and litigation if inroads are made on the applicability of
English law. This fits in with the criticism that is sometimes expressed about
the CISG. Critics argue that the CISG does not reach much uniformity in
practice: despite the existence of one uniform text (be it in six authentic
language versions), there is not one international court that is able to give
definitive interpretations of this text. In reality, the national courts of the 94
ratifying countries all adopt diverging approaches to interpretation of the
CISG, even though Art. 7(1) of the Convention requires that ‘regard is to be
had to its international character and to the need to promote uniformity in its
application.’
Informal rules
As is the case in many other areas of law, contract law is increasingly influ-
Soft law
enced by rules that are not officially binding, but have the status of soft law.
Soft law can take the form of, for example, guidelines, codes of conduct, reso-
lutions, action plans, principles and model rules. Although it is by definition
not binding ‘hard’ law, it is important in practice for various reasons. One is
that soft law is often a first step towards adopting a binding instrument: legis-
lators tend to look at soft law as a blueprint for future statutory rules. Another
is that soft law often reflects the more progressive opinio juris, the direction
in which the law is to develop according to the cutting-edge opinion makers.
This aspirational aspect of soft law can make it a very useful source in inter-
preting and criticising existing laws as well as in teaching the law. In the field
of contract law, it can also be a reference point for parties having to draft a
contract.
The best-known soft law rules in the field of contracts are so-called ‘prin-
Principles ciples’. Unlike the four substantive principles of contract law identified in
Chapter 1, these principles aim to identify rather detailed commonalities
among different jurisdictions and put these down in the form of a rule. In
so far as commonalities are difficult to find, the principles make a choice for
what their drafters consider to be the ‘best’ rule. The three most important
examples of such ‘restatements’ of the law are the UNIDROIT Principles
of International Commercial Contracts (PICC), the Principles of European
Contract Law (PECL) and the Draft Common Frame of Reference of
European Private Law (DCFR).
PICC The PICC are drafted by UNIDROIT (International Institute for the
Unification of Private Law), an intergovernmental organisation founded in
1926 and located in Rome. The UNIDROIT Principles (originally published
in 1994, but now in their third edition of 2010) are intended to provide a
system of rules especially tailored to the needs of international commercial
transactions by offering rules designed for use throughout the world ‘irre-
spective of the legal traditions and the economic and political conditions
of the c ountries in which they are to be applied’. The Preamble to the PICC
makes clear how they can be used:
These Principles set forth general rules for international commercial contracts.
They shall be applied when the parties have agreed that their contract be governed
by them.
They may be applied when the parties have agreed that their contract be governed
by general principles of law, the lex mercatoria or the like.
They may be applied when the parties have not chosen any law to govern their
contract.
They may be used to interpret or supplement international uniform law
instruments.
They may be used to interpret or supplement domestic law.
They may serve as a model for national and international legislators.
(1) These Principles are intended to be applied as general rules of contract law in
the European Union.
(2) These Principles will apply when the parties have agreed to incorporate them
into their contract or that their contract is to be governed by them.
(3) These Principles may be applied when the parties:
(a) have agreed that their contract is to be governed by ‘general principles of law’,
the ‘lex mercatoria’ or the like; or
(b) have not chosen any system or rules of law to govern their contract.
(4) These Principles may provide a solution to the issue raised where the system or
rules of law applicable do not do so.
BOX 2.6
The third set of principles worth mentioning consists of the Draft Common
DCFR Frame of Reference of European Private Law. The so-called Study Group on a
European Civil Code, the main drafter of the DCFR, sees itself as the suc-
cessor body to the Commission on European Contract Law that drafted the
PECL. The DCFR published in 2009 builds upon the PECL, partly because
it covers other fields of private law (mainly torts and property) and partly
because it deals with a range of specific contracts that are not dealt with in the
PECL (sale, lease of goods, contracts for services, mandate, agency, franchise,
distributorship, loan contracts, personal security and donation). Much more
than the PICC and PECL the DCFR aims at being a model for the European
legislator. This is evident from the – German law inspired – structure of the
DCFR that consists of ten books, including a general part. The DCFR can
easily be read like a civil code. But much more important is the use that can
be made of the DCFR and other sets of principles in teaching the law: it is
now common practice in many European countries to compare the national
law with PECL and DCFR, thus providing a true common frame of reference
for European teaching.
FURTHER READING
– Hugh Beale et al, Cases, Materials and Text on Contract Law, Ius Commune Casebooks for the
Common Law of Europe, 3rd ed., Oxford (Hart Publishing) 2019, Chapter 3.
– Raoul van Caenegem, Judges, Legislators and Professors, Cambridge (Cambridge University
Press) 1987.
– James Gordley and Arthur Taylor Von Mehren, An Introduction to the Comparative Study of
Private Law: Readings, Cases, Materials, Cambridge (Cambridge University Press) 2006.
– Basil S. Markesinis, Hannes Unberath and Angus Johnston, The German Law of Contract: A
Comparative Treatise, 2nd ed., Oxford (Hart) 2006.
– Ugo A. Mattei et al, Schlesinger’s Comparative Law: Cases-Text-Materials, 7th ed., New York
(Thomson Reuters) 2009.
– Matthias Reimann and Reinhard Zimmermann (eds.), Oxford Handbook of Comparative Law,
2nd ed., Oxford (Oxford University Press) 2019.
– Max Rheinstein, Gesammelte Schriften Vol. 1, Tübingen (Mohr) 1979.
– Jan Smits, The Making of European Private Law, Antwerp-Oxford-New York (Intersentia) 2002.
– Jan Smits and Caroline Calomme, ‘The Reform of the French Law of Obligations: Les Jeux
Sont Faits’, Maastricht Journal of European and Comparative Law 23 (2016), 1040.
– Omar Salah, ‘Islamic finance: the impact of the AAOIFI Resolution on equity-based sukuk
structures’, Law and Financial Markets Review (2010), 507.
– Konrad Zweigert and Hein Kötz, An Introduction to Comparative Law (translated by Tony
Weir), 3rd ed., Oxford (Oxford University Press) 1998, Part B.
CHAPTER OVERVIEW
Civil codes, legal doctrine and case law of any jurisdiction in the world define
a contract as a legally binding agreement. The two following definitions of
the French Code Civil and the European DCFR express the same thought:
Art. 1101 CC: ‘A contract is an agreement of wills among two or more persons
intended to create, modify, transfer or extinguish obligations.’
Art. II-1:101 (1) DCFR: ‘A contract is an agreement which is intended to give rise
to a binding legal relationship or to have some other legal effect. (…)’
BOX 3.1
acceptance one party (in case of a unilateral contract) or both parties (in case
of a bilateral contract) are bound. This offer is often made explicit, as when
Adelina tells her twin sister Viorelia that she can buy her wedding dress for
€150, but it can just as often be inferred from the circumstances of the case,
as when a supermarket puts products on the shelf in order to be bought by its
customers.
There are five important issues that need to be discussed concerning offer
and acceptance:
What is an offer?
A. General
Article 2:201 (1) PECL states the following:
This provision represents what all European systems have in common when
Invitation
defining an offer. The offer must be such that it creates a contract if accepted
by the other party. This requires that the offer indicates both the intention of
the offeror to be bound and the terms by which the offeror is willing to be
bound (think of the price of the goods and possibly the time of delivery).
If both these requirements are not met, there is no offer at all, but at best
an invitation to the other party to enter into negotiations (also called an
invitation to treat in England, an invitatio ad offerendum in Germany, an offre
de pourparlers in France and a uitnodiging om in onderhandeling te treden in
Dutch). Only if the invitee finds such an invitation attractive enough, it can
decide to make an offer itself, leaving it to the original invitor to either reject
or accept it.
It is not difficult to tell an offer from an invitation if the proposal itself indi-
Binding offer
cates that it is to be seen as a ‘binding offer’. Things are also easy if the offer
contains the clause that it is made ‘subject to agreement’, ‘subject to confirma-
tion’, ‘without any obligation’, ‘freibleibend’ or ‘sans engagement’, or makes
use of similar wording. Often, however, the statements made by the offeror
are more vague and may incite the other party to think that an offer was
made. In such a case, it is decisive how the proposal would be understood
by a reasonable person in the position of the offeree: could such a reason-
able person believe that an offer was made? It cannot be denied that this
is a vague criterion. As the English legal historian John Baker once wrote:
‘Despite many judicial expeditions to find him, the reasonable man has not
been reduced into captivity.’ This means that the criterion needs to be sub-
stantiated by reference to case law.
bad condition of the path to the house, the Council replied it did not want
to change the price. On 18 March 1971 Mr. Gibson wrote to the Council to
‘carry on with the purchase as per my application’. Shortly after, the politi-
cal winds in Manchester changed and the Council decided to no longer sell
municipal property. Mr. Gibson claimed that the letter of the Council consti-
tuted an offer that he had accepted on 18 March. However, the court did not
find an offer in the Council’s letter: this was only an invitation to the tenant
to make an offer. Mr. Gibson had subsequently done so on 18 March, but
the Council had not accepted it. A reasonable person in the position of Mr.
Gibson could not have believed that the Council’s letter, only containing the
price of the house, was an offer that only needed to be accepted by the offeree
in order to form a contract.
The offer must also contain sufficiently definite terms. This is the logical
Definitiveness
consequence of the very nature of an offer: if an offer can bring about a
contract by a simple ‘Yes, I accept’, it must contain all essential elements by
which the parties will be bound. If I propose to sell you three paintings from
my art collection, this would usually not qualify as an offer: we will first need
to know which specific paintings you are interested in. Any agreement that is
too vague or incomplete will therefore not be regarded as a binding contract.
This does not mean that the parties need to have reached agreement on all
possible details, but they do need to agree on what they consider as vital. In
case of a sales contract, this will include the good to be sold and the price
(Art. 1583 of the French Code Civil even requires this explicitly). For the
rest, Art. 6:227 of the Dutch Civil Code well expresses what any jurisdiction
would accept: ‘The obligations the parties take upon them, must be deter-
minable.’ If Julieta sells Argentinian beef to William, they will have to agree
on the quantity and the price and anything else they find essential (such as,
perhaps, that the meat emanates from eco-friendly cows). But they are free to
say that they leave for example the place and time of delivery to be decided
upon by a third party (‘Delivery on future dates as indicated by the restau-
rants mentioned in the annex to this contract’).
sonably believe that an offer was made, the outcome of this test differs from
one jurisdiction to another. Some jurisdictions regard an advertisement as an
offer, others only as an invitation to treat.
French and In French and Dutch law, an offer to the public is binding in the same way as
Dutch law
if it had been made to a particular person. In one of the leading French cases
(Maltzkorn v Braquet of 1969), a Mr. Braquet placed an advertisement in a
local newspaper advertising a plot of land for sale for FF250,000 (€ 38,000).
Mr. Maltzkorn saw the advert and accepted the ‘offer’, as he said. Mr. Braquet
denied that he was bound, arguing that an advertisement can never be a
binding offer. However, the Cour de Cassation could not find any legal basis
for this rule and considered it possible that an advertisement is a binding offer
to the public that binds the offeror to the first person who accepts it. This does
not mean that any advertisement is an offer. If the personal qualities of the
other party are of interest to the offeror, as is undoubtedly the case in employ-
ment contracts and credit agreements, but also in case one wants to rent out
an apartment or buy a house (or indeed a plot of land, as in the French case),
these are usually contracts intuitu personae. An illustration of this is provided
by the Dutch case of Hofland v Hennis (1981), in which a house in the Dutch
town of Bussum was put up for sale in a local newspaper. The advertisement
contained the address, the price and details of the layout of the house. When
Mr. Hennis had visited the house, he told the seller that he accepted his offer.
However, when the sale had to be closed, the seller refused to cooperate with
the transfer of the house, arguing that no contract had come into being. The
Netherlands Hoge Raad denied that an offer had been made:
English and Contrary to French and Dutch law, English and German law do not accept
German law that an advertisement to bring about a bilateral contract can amount to an
offer. It merely invites potential customers to make an offer to the seller to buy
the good. In the curious case of Partridge v Crittenden (1968), Lord Parker of
the High Court put it like this: ‘I think when one is dealing with advertise-
ments and circulars (…) there is business sense in their being construed as
invitations to treat and not offers for sale.’ This conclusion was beneficial to
the advertiser Mr. Partridge, who had put on sale in a magazine ‘Bramblefinch
cocks, Bramblefinch hens, 25 s. each.’ As it happened, these birds were pro-
tected by law and Mr. Partridge was charged by the Royal Society for the
Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (RSPCA) with unlawfully offering the
cocks and hens. However, as the advertisement was only seen as an invitation
to treat, he could not be convicted. German law adopts the same position.
No matter how one appreciates these different policy arguments, there is one
Unilateral
important practical difficulty with the English-German approach. In some
contract cases the advertiser simply wants to be bound to its proposal by the mere
acceptance of somebody else without the need to negotiate. The police may
wish to offer a reward for information that can lead to the arrest of a criminal,
or a driver may wish to park her car in car park with a ticket machine. Buying
a Coca-Cola can from a vending machine falls in the same category of cases.
In such cases French and Dutch law have no trouble finding an offer that
is accepted when the other party performs the act for which the reward,
service or product was offered. If these were only invitations, a binding con-
Reward tract would not emerge from providing information, parking one’s car or
quenching one’s thirst. It lies in the very nature of these announcements
that the advertiser demonstrates a serious intention to be bound to potential
respondents. This is why English law regards these as offers for a unilateral
contract. In the case of parking one’s car, the Court of Appeal held in the case
Thornton v Shoe Lane Parking (1971), per Lord Denning:
The customer pays his money and gets a ticket. He cannot refuse it. He cannot get
his money back. He may protest to the machine, even swear at it. But it will remain
unmoved. He is committed beyond recall. He was committed at the very moment
when he put his money into the machine. The contract was concluded at that time.
It can be translated into offer and acceptance in this way: the offer is made when
the proprietor of the machine holds it out as being ready to receive the money. The
acceptance takes place when the customer puts his money into the slot.
This provision places the reward outside contract law. It regards the
announcement of a reward as an independent juridical act that out of itself
creates the legal effect that whoever undertakes what is necessary is entitled
to the reward. Interestingly, this means that even if the finder of a lost laptop
was not aware of the €1,000 reward announced by the owner, she can still
claim the money. However, the advertiser may withdraw the offer for the
reward before the necessary act is performed (§ 658 (1) BGB).
The above rules are not any different in cases where goods are offered for sale
Website on a website. Although European directives require online sellers to supply
the consumer with extensive information on the product, giving them the
possibility to withdraw from the contract within 14 days after delivery (see
Chapter 6), the offer and acceptance question is governed by the respective
national laws. German and English law therefore regard advertising goods on
a website as non-binding invitations to treat. This proved convenient when
in 1999 Argos accidentally put Sony televisions up for sale at a price of £2.99
instead of £299: orders of customers were not acceptances but offers to buy
that could easily be rejected by the UK retailer.
BOX 3.2
in UK history was caused by forgetting to big success: Hoover had 200,000 extra cus-
consult the in-house lawyer on this impor- tomers (with not surprisingly a high interest
tant point. When in 1992 the British division in the Turbopower Total System vacuum
of electronics manufacturer Hoover wanted cleaner, priced just over £100). However,
to get rid of its surplus stock of washing the collateral damage consisted of Hoover
machines and vacuum cleaners, it promised Britain having to pay £50 million on air
free airline tickets to continental Europe and tickets, leading to such financial difficulties
the US to anyone buying more than £100 that the company had to be taken over by a
worth of their products. The action was a competitor in order to survive.
The question is whether the consumers at the moment they accepted the offer –
thus at the moment they ordered over the internet – could reasonably assume in
the circumstances of the case that this offer was correct. (…) The answer to this
question is dependent on what an average consumer, i.e. a consumer who is as
informed as the average person, can expect. One can expect from a consumer who is
planning to buy an LCD TV that they prepare themselves generally on the prices of
LCD TVs. If this consumer subsequently sees that the Otto website offers for sale:
Even if the consumer does not immediately recognise the error, the difference in
price is so considerable that in any case there must have been doubt. In case of
doubt about the correct price, the consumer should have further investigated the
matter. (…)
In order to address this problem, many websites provide specific rules to the
consumer on how to order, avoiding the situation where the online seller is
bound too soon. A website could for example state that the prospective buyer
only becomes bound if he submits a form and that the seller is to confirm the
order. A common clause is that ‘By completing and submitting the following
electronic order form you are making an offer to purchase goods which, if
accepted by us, will result in a binding contract.’ It follows from European law
that in cases where the online seller makes use of such a special procedure, it
must communicate to the consumer the technical steps to follow in a clear,
comprehensible and unambiguous way prior to the order being placed (Art.
10 of EU Directive 2000/31 on electronic commerce). This explains why
many websites require the consumer to click his way through several ‘I agree’-
boxes before the contract is finally formed.
Policy The policy arguments behind the choice that the various jurisdictions make
arguments are identical to those in case of a public offer by way of an advertisement. It
therefore does not come as a surprise that French and Dutch law consider
the display of goods in a shop as an offer, while English and German law in
principle do not. The customer at a Tesco in Bath actually makes an offer to
buy to the cashier (acting on behalf of the shop) at the checkout and it is up
to the cashier whether or not to accept this offer. The cashier’s colleague at
the Casino supermarket in Bourg d’Oisans, however, cannot but conclude
that the customer has accepted the offer by the time the latter has reached
the till.
the sale takes place as soon as the customer, seeing an item marked with a price
the client is prepared to accept, places the item in the basket or bag made available
to her and which she is required to use until the goods are checked out by the
employee at the till.
This leaves as the main policy reason for the English position – as we saw
before with the advertisement – that it reserves to the shop the right to do
business with whom it wants, possibly putting it in a better position to nego-
tiate. But while this may be true for the bespoke tailor, the antiques shop
and the art dealer, it is difficult to see the argument in a world dominated by
Sainsbury’s, Kaufhof and H&M. In addition, the freedom of a business not to
accept a customer is limited by anti-discrimination rules, not only in the UK
but in any other European country.
Germany German law is at one end of the scale (and the same is true for other coun-
tries in the German legal tradition such as Austria, Switzerland and Greece).
§ 145 BGB reads as follows: ‘One who has offered to conclude a contract
with another is bound by that offer unless he states that he is not bound.’
This provision leaves no doubt that the offeror cannot revoke his offer. If
Jonas offers for sale to Bild some private pictures of Kim Kardashian and
receives a better offer from Express a few days later, he cannot run away from
the offer he made; the only thing he can hope for is that Bild will reject his
offer. But Jonas is bound if it is accepted. Of course, he does not have to wait
indefinitely: if a reasonable period has expired during which he does not hear
anything from the offeree, Jonas is again free to offer the pictures to anyone
else (see below). To avoid this uncomfortable position, he can of course limit
the validity of the offer by telling Bild that it is only made freibleibend (subject
to change) or that he reserves the right to revoke it. This follows from the fact
that the rules on offer and acceptance are only default rules and can be set
aside by the parties if they wish (see Chapter 2).
England English law is at the opposite end of the scale. Revocation is always allowed: an
offer can be revoked at any time before it has been accepted, even if the offeror
included a deadline for acceptance in the offer. If Adele offers her veterinary
practice for sale to James and tells him that ‘a definite answer needs to be given
within six weeks’, she can still revoke it regardless of the time limit. The reason
for this extreme view lies in a peculiar requirement of English contract law
called the doctrine of consideration. Consideration will be explained in detail
in Chapter 4, but at its core lies the idea that a promise can only be enforced
if the other party does or promises something in return. In the case of an
offer, the offeree does not provide any consideration and therefore the offer
is not binding. This sounds harsh on the offeree and indeed English law is
exceptional in adopting this position in the common law world. The Uniform
Commercial Code (UCC), the uniform law that governs commercial transac-
tions in almost the entire US, has for example abandoned the English view
and provides that ‘firm offers’ are not revocable ‘during the time stated or if
no time is stated for a reasonable time’ (Section 2-205). If an English offeror
is determined to give the other party the right to accept the offer within a set
time, it can always make an ‘option contract’, for which consideration does
exist, but this may be too complicated in normal day-to-day transactions.
France French law and most other jurisdictions that stand in the French legal tradi-
tion such as Belgium adopt an intermediate position. It is settled case law of
the Cour de Cassation since 1919 that any offer is revocable before acceptance,
but that this revocation is abusive (and therefore a tort under Art. 1240 Code
Civil) if it frustrates the legitimate expectations of the offeree. This is the case
if the offer contains a time period within which it is to be accepted (offre avec
délai), or if the offeree could reasonably believe that the offer would remain
open for a reasonable time (offre avec délai raisonnable). This does not mean
that revocation does not have effect in these two cases, but the offeror must
compensate the damage the offeree suffers as a result (for example the costs
of travel to inspect the goods or the lost profits on other deals the offeree
turned down). The new Art. 1116 CC contains a rule to this effect.
(1) An offer may be revoked if the revocation reaches the offeree before it has
dispatched its acceptance (…).
(2) An offer made to the public can be revoked by the same means as were used to
make the offer.
(3) However, a revocation of an offer is ineffective if:
(a) the offer indicates that it is irrevocable; or
(b) it states a fixed time for its acceptance; or
(c) it was reasonable for the offeree to rely on the offer as being irrevocable and the
offeree has acted in reliance on the offer.
allowed to do so, and the offeree does not accept it either? Does this mean that
the offer stays open forever? It is clear that this would be too great a burden on
the offeror. Commercial intercourse would come to a near standstill if an offer
remains open until the offeree is so good to give a definitive answer. The law
therefore provides rules on when an offer ceases to exist. This so-called lapse
(caducité, Erlöschung, verval) of an offer exists in the following circumstances.
In case Caroline’s initial reaction were that she was willing to lease the car
Counter-offer for €100, this is seen as a counter-offer that also terminates Brahim’s original
offer. It does not make a difference whether the time fixed for acceptance has
expired or not. In the English case of Hyde v Wrench (1840), Wrench offered
to sell his farm to Hyde for £1,000 and two days later Hyde offered £950,
which was rejected by the seller. When Hyde then told the seller that on
second thought he agreed to buy for £1,000, the seller was no longer bound
to his offer: the offeree’s counter-offer had terminated it.
§ 147 (1) An offer made to a person who is present may only be accepted
immediately. This also applies to an offer made by one person to another using a
telephone or another technical facility.
(2) An offer made to a person who is absent may be accepted only until the time
when the offeror may expect to receive the answer under ordinary circumstances.
§ 148 If the offeror has determined a period of time for the acceptance of an offer,
the acceptance may only take place within this period.
These provisions reflect what any jurisdiction would accept (see also Art.
Circumstances
2:206 PECL). The offer lapses if the time that the offeror has set for accept-
ance expires. An offer ‘valid until 30 April 2014’ can no longer be accepted
on 1 May. If no time has been fixed, acceptance must take place within a
reasonable time. How long this is will depend on the circumstances of the
case. As the German Code implies, an answer can be expected in the very
same conversation if the offer was made face-to-face or in any other type
of real time (instantaneous) communication (such as telephone, Skype and
online chat). If the offer is made inter absentes (for example by post, e-mail
or WhatsApp), much depends on the speed of the means of communication
(someone who sends his offer by regular mail cannot expect an answer on
the next day: the offeree can generally be expected to make use of the same
means of communication for transmitting his answer) and on the subject
matter. An offer to buy fresh fish, or any other perishable good, will usually
last for a shorter period than an offer to buy a painting. If the price of the
product is susceptible to market fluctuation (as in case of shares on the stock
market), a reasonable period may even be a matter of seconds.
It is not uncommon that the offer specifies the method of acceptance. This
Prescribed
means that it indicates, for example, in what form the acceptance must be
method sent and to whom it must be addressed. For example, the offer could pre-
scribe: ‘Acceptance must take place by returning the attached form’, or indi-
cate that any replies are ‘to be sent by registered delivery’. This raises the
important practical question what happens if a disobedient offeree simply
sends an e-mail containing his acceptance. Does this mean that the contract
is not concluded? In other words: is the specified method of acceptance
exclusive or not? The answer naturally depends on how the offer should
be interpreted. Normally, the offeree will have to comply with the specified
method of acceptance. But if the only reason why the offeror prescribed a
The consumer shall be exempted from the obligation to provide any consideration
in cases of unsolicited supply of goods, water, gas, electricity, district heating or
digital content or unsolicited provision of services (…). In such cases, the absence
of a response from the consumer following such an unsolicited supply or provision
shall not constitute consent.
BOX 3.3
ditions. German case law firmly states that if the other party does not agree with
the document, it must quickly reject it at the risk of being bound.
c ommunicate the acceptance to the offeror or whether the latter can already
reasonably infer from the circumstances that his offer was accepted.
On 1 May, Brad offers for sale to Amélie the Golden Bear he won at last year’s
Berlin film festival. On 2 May, Amélie saves in her ‘drafts’ folder a draft e-mail in
which she accepts Brad’s offer. On 3 May at 23.58, she sends the message to Brad,
who receives it in his mailbox on 4 May at 00.03. On 5 May, Brad checks his e-mail
and reads Amélie’s acceptance.
In this example there are four possible moments at which the acceptance
takes effect:
Four theories (a) the moment the message containing the acceptance is written (2 May),
known as the externalisation theory;
(b) the moment the message is sent or posted (3 May), the expedition or
dispatch theory;
(c) the moment the message is received by the offeror (4 May), the receipt
theory;
(d) the moment the offeror reads the message (5 May), the actual notice
theory.
Only two of the four mentioned theories are serious candidates to be short-
Shortlist
listed in an economically viable jurisdiction. Both the externalisation theory
and the actual notice theory suffer from a lack of practicability. In the above
example, it will be difficult to establish when Amélie wrote the e-mail or
when Brad actually read it. If the actual notice theory was applied, it would
also open the door to unscrupulous manipulation by the offeror. All he
needs to do to prevent the contract from being concluded is to leave his mail
unopened.
It is therefore not surprising that all jurisdictions adopt either the expedi-
tion or the receipt theory. The clearest proponents of the latter are German,
French and Dutch law, all three followed by the PECL.
Art. 1121 CC: ‘A contract is concluded as soon as the acceptance reaches the
offeror. (…)’
Art. 3:37 (3) BW: ‘A declaration addressed to a specific person must have reached
(‘bereikt’) this person in order to have the sought legal effect. Nevertheless, if
such a statement has not reached this person or it did not reach him in time, and
this is merely a result of his own actions, of the actions of other persons for whom
he is responsible, or the result of other circumstances which justify that he is
accountable for any disadvantage caused by it, then this statement will still have its
originally intended legal effect.’
Art. 2:205 (1) PECL: ‘If an acceptance has been dispatched by the offeree the
contract is concluded when the acceptance reaches the offeror.’
This is a sensible approach: the acceptance (or any other declaration) takes
effect when it reaches (zugeht, bereikt) the addressee, meaning that it has entered
into his sphere of influence. This puts the risk of the message getting lost before
arrival in the hands of the sender (which seems right because he has chosen the
medium and route of communication), while the risk of the message not being
read after arrival lies with the recipient. This is also what the clumsily formu-
lated second sentence of Art. 3:37 (3) Dutch Civil Code aims to express. The
example mentioned in the well-known textbook by Zweigert and Kötz is that
of the bird lover who chooses not to empty the letterbox in his garden for fear of
scaring the birds within: then, the declaration is treated as having arrived. Other
examples are not regularly checking one’s e-mail or simply deleting unread
e-mails out of fear that the sender has indeed accepted the offer.
Is the receipt theory so sensible that all jurisdictions accept it? The outlier in
Europe is English law (other common law-jurisdictions, including the US,
English law adopt the same position). English law makes a sharp distinction between
instantaneous and non-instantaneous communication. In the former case,
if parties sit opposite each other or speak to each other over the phone, the
receipt theory is applied. The famous example given by Lord Denning is the
following:
Suppose, for instance, that I shout an offer to a man across a river or a courtyard
but I do not hear his reply because it is drowned by an aircraft flying overhead.
There is no contract at that moment. If he wishes to make a contract, he must
wait till the aircraft is gone and then shout back his acceptance so that I can hear
what he says. Not until I have his answer am I bound.’ (Entores Ltd v Miles Far East
Corporation, 1955)
The motivation for this is that the offeree will know when his acceptance
was not communicated to the other party, and can try again. This reasoning
can also be applied to other instant methods of communication, such as the
use of telex (as the Court of Appeal held in the Entores case), and probably
also fax and online chatting. In all these cases, the acceptor is likely to know
whether its communication has reached the other party or not: fax machines
and chat services tend to indicate a failure in sending the message. An inter-
esting question is whether communication by e-mail must also be seen as
instantaneous. The problem with e-mail is that the moment the ‘send’ button
is pressed is not always the same moment the message is received at the other
end (as in the above example). During busy times e-mail servers tend to store
the message and deliver it later without the sender necessarily noting this.
Sometimes, e-mail even gets lost in cyberspace. Although the English courts
have yet to decide on the question, it seems likely that they will not treat
e-mail as a form of instantaneous communication.
First, the postal rule implies that the contract is formed even in cases where
the letter containing the acceptance never arrives at its destination, for
example because it gets lost in the post. Contrary to the receipt theory the
Policy reasons postal rule thus favours the offeree by putting the risk of a late or lost accept-
ance on the party that made the offer. The historical reason for this is that the
rule was formulated in a time when the post was not too reliable and it was
easier to prove that one posted a letter than it is to prove that it was received
by the other party.
Second, the practical effect of the postal rule is that it limits the possibility of
revocation by the offeror. It was seen above that under English law revocation
is always allowed before acceptance. If the acceptance has already taken effect
when it is posted, the effective time left to revoke the offer is restricted. This
is even more so as the revocation of an offer must reach the offeree before it
becomes effective. The classic illustration of this rule is provided by the High
Court case Byrne & Co v Leon van Tienhoven & Co (1880). Van Tienhoven
posted a letter in Cardiff on 1 October, offering tinplates for sale to Byrne
in New York. Byrne received the letter on 11 October and immediately tel-
egraphed acceptance. But on 8 October Van Tienhoven had posted a letter
revoking its offer because of the fact that tinplate prices had risen by 25 per
cent. The court found that the postal rule should not be applied to a revoca-
tion, leading to the result that a contract had in fact been formed. Lindley J
considered that any other conclusion would lead to extreme injustice and
inconvenience:
The practical relevance of the now almost 200 years old postal rule is some-
times questioned. In today’s world less and less communication takes place
by regular mail, and even where it does postal services tend to be more reli-
able than they were in the nineteenth century. However, the postal rule is still
applied and has even found new applications with the rise of modern tech-
nology. Telemessaging (which has replaced the use of telegrams), e-mail and
texting through mobile phones are also likely to qualify as non-instantaneous
forms of communication and are therefore governed by the postal rule – even
though the highest courts of England have not yet had the opportunity to
decide as much.
Consensus ad idem
Offeror and offeree
The importance of the offer and acceptance model
Offer and invitation to enter into negotiations
Offers to the public
Rewards
Goods on display in shops
Revocation of an offer
Withdrawal of an offer
Rejection and counter-offer
Lapse of an offer
Acceptance
Battle of the forms
Time of conclusion of the contract
Acceptance theories
Postal rule
FURTHER READING
CHAPTER OVERVIEW
•
when the intention to be legally bound exists;
•
how the test of earnestness is applied in different types of agreements
(commercial, gratuitous and disadvantageous as well as social and
domestic agreements).
business. A contrary view would make society unliveable and would flood
the courts with futile cases.
All modern jurisdictions accept the intention to create legally binding rela-
tions as the criterion to distinguish binding promises or agreements from
statements that do not qualify as such. The PECL put this succinctly in Art.
2:101 (1) by stating that a contract is concluded ‘if the parties intend to be
legally bound’ and ‘reach a sufficient agreement’. As we saw before (Chapter
1), this provision is the end result of a long historical process in which the
law of contract moved from accepting the binding nature of only certain
contracts towards the general principle of pacta sunt servanda. Of course,
the exact formulation may differ from one legal system to another, but they
all adhere to the same thought. While the Dutch Art. 3:33 BW plainly states
that ‘a juridical act requires an intention to create legal relations, which inten-
tion becomes manifest in a declaration’, the well-known English textbook of
Treitel on The Law of Contract requires a similar ‘intention of creating legal
relations.’ In K Speditionsgesellschaft (1956), the German Bundesgerichtshof
spoke of the ‘intention to create a legal commitment’ (‘Rechtsbindungswille’)
while the French analyse a contract as a ‘meeting of intentions’ (‘rencontre
des volontés’).
Despite this common core of the world’s legal systems on how to separate
binding from non-binding agreements, one cannot say that the criterion is
without its problems. This chapter looks into three main questions that can
be asked about the intention to create legal relations:
Three z What is the intention of the parties and when does it lead to agreement?
questions
z What test of earnestness is to be applied in problematic cases in which
there is doubt about a party’s intention?
z How does the legal intention relate to another requirement that some
jurisdictions pose for the valid formation of a contract, namely the
common law requirement of consideration and the French requirement
of cause?
message from being received accurately. If you rent ‘the first floor’ of my
house and I understand this to refer to the rooms on the first level above the
ground, while you believe to have rented the ground floor, our intentions
differ. Likewise, if we agree that you will ‘clean my house’ for €50 and you
believe this only means to clean the inside, while I meant you would also
wash the windows on the exterior, what have we agreed upon, if anything?
These examples show that it is not always clear what the intention of the
parties is when making a contract. But there are not the only cases in which
Dissensus a so-called dissensus of intention and declaration exists. Next to the misun-
derstandings mentioned above (parties disagree as a result of their use of
vague terms), parties can also fall prey to a slip of the pen or the tongue (they
say ‘40’ in their offer but they mean ‘4’) or send their message to the wrong
person (your e-mail to book a room in a B&B is not sent to zimmer@gmail.
com as intended, but to its more expensive competitor zimmer@hotmail.
com). It can also happen that someone declares he wants to conclude a con-
tract while being under the influence of stress, alcohol or drugs, or being
hypnotised or mentally ill, and later argues this is not what he intended.
The law has to deal with this problem of diverging intention and declaration
in various stages of the life of the contract. In the stage of formation, differ-
ent intentions may stand in the way of the parties actually having reached an
agreement (discussed in this chapter). Once this hurdle is overcome, and
the consensus ad idem is present, it may be that the parties still quarrel about
what they could expect as to the qualities or the value of the good that they
bought possibly leading to avoidance of the contract (a question of mistake,
discussed in Chapter 9), or about what it is that they actually agreed upon in
their contract (a question of interpretation, discussed in Chapter 7).
BOX 4.1
The classic English case is Smith v Hughes (1871), in which Blackburn J held: ‘If,
whatever a man’s real intention may be, he so conducts himself that a reasonable
man would believe that he was assenting to the terms proposed by the other party,
and that other party upon that belief enters into the contract with him, the man
thus conducting himself would be equally bound as if he had intended to agree to
the other party’s terms.’
a question of how the actions of the person providing the service appear to the
objective observer.’
Art. 3:35 BW: ‘The absence of intention in a declaration cannot be invoked against
a person who has interpreted another’s declaration or conduct in conformity with
the sense which he could reasonably attribute to it in the given circumstances, as a
declaration of a particular meaning made to him by that other person.’
The French textbook of Terré et al, on Les obligations states: ‘Since the consent
of the parties is a psychological phenomenon, it can only lead to a contract if it is
externalised in order for the other party to be understood.’
What this means in practice only becomes clear in the circumstances of each
Factors
individual case. Courts apply the objective approach by looking at factors
such as:
employee understood that he was asked to agree with ending the employ-
ment contract’ because of the severe consequences this can have for the
employee (such as losing one’s job without any claim to social security).
z What is customary in a certain branch or location. The stock example is
someone who visits an auction and waves to a friend sitting at the other
end of the room. It is customary at auctions that raising one’s hand means
that one bids on the object. If the auctioneer could reasonably believe
that the visitor was making a bid, a contract has come about.
z The meaning of the disputed term in everyday speech. This meaning
will prevail unless special circumstances dictate that the term should
be understood differently by a reasonable person in the position of the
addressee. If a person, when talking to friends, constantly refers to her
old Lada as her ‘Mercedes’, and then decides to sell this ‘Mercedes’ to one
of these friends, the buyer cannot claim that the contract does not exist
arguing that he did not intend to buy a Lada. In contract law, the literal
meaning of words as contained in the dictionary is never decisive. So if a
party uses a technical term, it is relevant whether this party could expect
the other party to know of its meaning. If parties are in the same line of
business, the meaning a term has in that context prevails.
z The place of contracting. If the seller intended to get paid in US dollars,
but the buyer had in mind Canadian dollars, the place where the contract
was made or the location of the bank may reveal to a reasonable person
what was agreed upon.
z The expertise and experience of the parties. A more sophisticated party,
or one that is assisted by experts, should make greater effort to make sure
that the other party understands what its intention is than a layperson. A
municipality buying land from an individual will have a hard time invok-
ing the technical meaning of terms in the contract if it has not made any
effort to inform the seller about these terms at the time the contract was
made.
The effect of the objective approach to agreement is that the party who jus-
tifiably relies on the contents of the other party’s unintended declaration can
claim that the contract has come into being. Only in cases where it is impos-
sible to find one meaning of an ambiguous term on an essential point of the
agreement (meaning that a reasonable person would find more than one
meaning plausible), is there no agreement. A nice example of this is provided
by the French case of Société Tirat et Cie v Société Orazzi et Fils (1961). Orazzi
intended to buy 2,000 hectolitres of wine to be transported to Algiers. Tirat
offered to sell the wine at FF60 per hectolitre. Orazzi found this too much
and sent a telegram that it was willing to buy for FF30, but due to a mistake
the text read ‘FF300.’ The seller naturally accepted and delivered the wine.
BOX 4.2
When the contract was later disputed by Orazzi on the ground that he did
not intend to buy the wine for a price five times as high as the original offer,
the court held that no contract had come into being as the parties’ intentions
differed. This so-called erreur-obstacle (‘mistake-obstacle’) literally expresses
that the mistake a party has made prevents the meeting of the minds.
Some comparative lawyers assert that French law gives more weight to the
Difference?
subjective intention of the parties than other jurisdictions. If a party can
prove that it did not intend to declare as it did, the internal will would prevail
and the contract is not seen as validly concluded. It is true that legal doctrine
in France puts more emphasis on the will of the parties, but it is hard to say if
this is also reflected in court practice. If it is, it would mean that French courts
would be less willing to uphold a contract in cases where a party’s intention
and declaration diverge. If this were so, it would not mean that the reason-
able expectations (confiance légitime) of the other party are not protected. It
only may take place in a different way, for example by forcing the party that
recklessly made a declaration that did not accord with his intention to pay
damages in tort for the losses suffered by the relying party.
A. Commercial agreements
Parties to commercial contracts are assumed to have the intention of being
legally bound. The reason for this is that it lies in the very nature of com-
mercial parties that they make contracts, and that if they do not wish to be
bound, they should take appropriate measures to prevent this from happen-
ing (for example by agreeing on a ‘subject to contract’ clause: see below).
This assumption exists in all jurisdictions, but it is perhaps the strongest in
English law in which there is even a legal presumption that a commercial
agreement is legally binding. Such a presumption means that it is for the
other party to prove that it did not intend to be bound, which is difficult in
practice. In the English case of Bear Stearns Bank plc v Forum Global Equity
Ltd (2007), Forum Global was one of the creditors of the insolvent Italian
dairy company Parmalat. When it became clear that Forum Global would
receive back some of the money it had lent to Parmalat, it sold the title to this
loan to investment bank Bear Stearns in New York for almost €3 million. This
agreement was made over the phone and the parties decided that the details
would be worked out later by their lawyers. When Forum Global refused to
finalise the transaction, Bear Stearns brought a successful claim in the High
Court. Smith, J held:
Forum Global was not able to rebut the presumption that it intended to be
bound.
The deliberate intention not to be bound can also be put in different wording.
Parties could for example agree to be bound only ‘in honour’ (a so-called
honour clause) or conclude a ‘gentlemen’s agreement’. The result is the same:
there are no legally enforceable rights if the other party does not do what it
promised. This led an English judge to define a gentlemen’s agreement as ‘an
Under English law, a gratuitous promise is equally unenforceable, but for the
reason that it does not have any consideration. Consideration requires that
there is a quid pro quo (‘something for something’): as we shall see later in
this chapter, a promise must always be given in return for a counter perfor-
mance by the other party, or at least the promise thereof. This requirement is
clearly not met in case of a gratuitous promise. If businessman and owner of
the New England Patriots Robert Kraft promises to donate his Super Bowl-
ring to Vladimir Putin, this is not a binding promise as Putin does nothing
in return. In the absence of a notary as exists on the European continent,
English law therefore requires the donative promise to be put in a deed. This
written and signed document that is attested by a witness may not offer the
same security as a notarial deed on the continent, but it does make the donor
reflect upon his plan to perform an act of altruism and forces him to put his
promise into precise writing. One could say that the law’s suspicion about an
intention being present in case of a donation is made good by satisfying the
formality.
is whether the promisee could reasonably expect from the words and the
conduct of the promisor that the latter intended to be bound, which is prob-
ably dependent on what the reasons for making the promise were and what
the consequences would be for the promisee if the promise were to be held
unenforceable. If the promisee has acted to its detriment in reliance upon the
promise, the presumption against an intention may be rebutted. Thus, in the
examples above, if I immediately gave notice to my landlord after hearing my
neighbour’s generous offer, thereby leaving me without a home if she should
renege on her promise, or if the deli owner had already sold her own car in
reasonable reliance on my promise, these are strong arguments to claim that
there is a binding contract.
This is not any different in a third category of cases. A promise need not be
purely gratuitous for it to raise suspicions about the earnestness of the inten-
tion. I can sell my Tesla X for €10 or agree to provide legal services to coffee
shop Easy Going on the sole condition that its owner regularly comes over to
my house to water my plants. Neither civil law nor English law requires these
Disadvantageous disadvantageous transactions to be put in any particular form, but whether
transactions
or not they are enforceable depends again on how likely it is that the court
will find an intention to be legally bound on the part of the promisor. As
these transactions are not particularly beneficial to the promisor, there must
be clear evidence that he was really willing to commit himself beyond the
boundaries of the ordinary. The same factors as just mentioned will play a
role here.
C. Social agreements
The third type of situation concerns promises in the social sphere, usually
among friends or people who know each other well enough to enter into an
agreement without realising the consequences. Again, such an agreement is
not assumed to be legally binding, unless clear and unequivocal evidence
exists for the contrary. Particularly in the social sphere the law tends to
protect the ‘freedom from contract’: in their private lives, citizens should be
protected from unnecessary interference by the courts.
Social agreements often lack any money value. The understanding of two
No money
friends to go on holiday together, to organise a barbecue next week, or that
value one of them will be the designated driver on a night out are in principle not
relevant to the law. Even if parties explicitly want to make this promise legally
binding by putting it in writing, it would be difficult to find a court willing to
enforce it. So it is highly unlikely that the dinner host will be able to force her
friend to come over or claim back the costs she incurred in preparing the meal.
A type of promise that lies even more in the economic sphere is the agree-
ment to share costs. Car-pooling in particular is a fertile ground for court
Cost-sharing
cases. If parties agree that one of them will drive one day and the other the
other day, no problems occur. But this is different if one of them pays the
other. Courts concur that a cost-sharing agreement can be enforced, but it is
not likely that the parties’ intention is also directed at the duty of the driver
to ensure the safety of the passenger, or at a contract of carriage to give lifts in
the future. As Upjohn LJ held in the English case of Coward v Motor Insurers
Bureau (1963):
D. Domestic agreements
A lesson to be drawn from the above is that the context in which a promise is
made makes a lot of difference. The situation in which I promise to put away
your car when you come over to my house for dinner, differs fundamentally
from the one in which you trust a fancy restaurant’s valet service to park your
car. The importance of context is also clearly visible in the final group of
cases discussed here. These concern domestic or family agreements. A father
can promise his daughter to pay for her driving lessons if she does not smoke
until she is 18 years old and a husband can promise his wife that he will no
longer visit the local bars. No sensible lawyer would advise these promisees
to take their relative to court for not keeping their word. The law is reluctant
to deal with what people agree upon in a family context. Most legal systems
assume that people in one household are not legally bound to their promises
unless the contrary is proved. The emphasis must here of course be on the
word ‘legally’: socially and morally close relatives are arguably more obliged
towards each other than anyone else.
BOX 4.3
law that does recognise the agreement. Famous cases include ex-Beatle Paul
McCartney who had to pay £24 million to Heather Mills and Formula I
boss Bernie Ecclestone who is supposed to have settled with his ex-wife
for £750 million. However, the English position changed with the decision
Domestic agreements can also relate to matters that the law does not see as
Public policy
suitable for contracting because they violate public policy (see Chapter 10).
When an 18-year-old woman agreed with her boyfriend that she would use the
pill, but stopped taking it without his ‘consent’ and gave birth to a child, the
court did not allow the father to claim for breach of contract or to be relieved
of the duty to pay alimony for the child. In the pill case (1986) the German
Bundesgerichtshof did not consider her promise legally binding because of a
lack of intention. The policy argument behind this somewhat clinical reason-
ing was of course that the law regards it as a violation of one’s personal freedom
if one could make binding contracts about having a child or not.
A similar development took place in the common law. The actions a party
could bring in case of non-performance of a contract were at first limited,
but by the sixteenth century a claim for damages (as we shall see in Part 5 the
main action in common law in case of breach of contract) could be brought
on basis of assumpsit in any case in which the promisor did not perform.
But in England too this was seen as a principle too wide to be accepted
across the board. The English courts therefore also developed a device to
keep the expansion of binding contracts under control. This was found in a
The observant reader will comment that on this account causa and consid-
eration must have become superfluous when the criterion of the intention
to create legal relations rose to prominence in the nineteenth century. As was
seen earlier in this chapter, it is after all this intention that now fulfils the role
of separating binding from non-binding agreements. Put differently: the only
good reason (causa, consideration) why a party is bound to its promise is
because it seriously and deliberately intended to be bound. This is a sharp
comment that has a lot of merit. It is exactly the reason why the Dutch decided
to abandon causa when they introduced their new Civil Code in 1992 and it
also played a role for the French lawmaker when it decided to get rid of causa.
However, the law does not always develop in a logical way and sometimes
suffers from historical accidents. We already encountered the saying of the
great American judge Oliver Wendell Holmes (1841–1935) that ‘The life of
the law has not been logic: it has been experience.’ The explanation for why
causa and consideration are still requirements for the formation of a valid con-
tract is therefore mostly historical. This helps us to understand why both have
an uneasy relationship with the intention to create legal relations and why in
jurisdictions that require causa or consideration, constant pleas are made –
sometimes successful – to abolish the requirement.
B conclude a bilateral sales contract with delivery and payment seven days
from now), this is called executory consideration. In contrast, executed con-
sideration exists when a promise is made in exchange for an act and the
act is performed (the moment A delivers the goods to B, A’s consideration
becomes executed).
The above makes clear that the core of consideration lies in a bargain, an
Reciprocity element of reciprocity. This comes out in the classic definition in the case
Currie v Misa (1875): ‘a valuable consideration in the sense of the law may
consist either in some right, interest, profit or benefit accruing to one party,
or some forbearance, detriment, loss or responsibility given, suffered or
undertaken by the other’. It does not require much imagination to see the link
with consideration as a good reason for being bound: the badge of enforce-
ability is given only if there is a quid pro quo and not in case of a gratuitous
promise. However, things are not that straightforward. Over the course of
centuries, English courts have developed a complex body of rules not all of
which easily match the picture of ‘only enforcement in case of counter perfor-
mance or a promise thereof ’: sometimes courts simply find or ‘invent’ con-
sideration only to reach a just result. It is impossible to give a full overview
of the whole consideration doctrine (its treatment in Chitty on Contracts,
the leading English contract law textbook, takes 150 pages), but it is useful
to have a closer look at some main points. These can be summarised in four
rules.
Existing public The rule applies both to cases in which there is an existing public duty and
duty
to cases in which there is a contractual duty. A case in which a public duty
existed is Glasbrook Brothers v Glamorgan County Council (1925). When
the employees of a coal mine went on strike, the owners of the mine asked
the authorities for protection by quartering police officers on the premises
of the mine. When the police refused and said that visiting patrols were suf-
ficient, the coal mine owners offered to pay the police £2,200, which they
accepted. When the strike was over the police requested payment. The
owners, however, refused to pay arguing that there was no consideration for
the promise to pay for the police protection as there was already an existing
duty to protect the mine. The House of Lords reasoned that the police had
provided an extra service that went beyond the normal public duty to main-
tain law and order. The police was therefore able to claim the £2,200 from the
mine owners.
More modern applications of the ‘existing duty’ rule are to be found in cases
in which the courts have to decide who has to pay for the costs of police
services in and around football stadiums. In line with the Glasbrook Brothers
case the courts then ask whether these are special police services provided
to football clubs, or mere existing duties to maintain law and order. Thus, in
Harris v Sheffield United Football Club Ltd (1988), it was found that the police
officers had to attend inside the stadium itself, clearly a special service at the
request of the club. But law and order sometimes also need to be maintained
in the direct vicinity of the stadium. In Leeds United Football Club v The Chief
Constable of West Yorkshire Police (2013), the Court of Appeal held that police
authorities can only charge for the costs of policing in areas owned, leased or
controlled by the football club. In public areas the policing also benefits local
residents whose properties may otherwise be vandalised: the existing duty
of the police towards the general public to keep the peace prevents the police
from claiming back the costs from the club.
Existing An existing duty does not necessarily follow from public law. Consideration
contractual is also absent if the duty already follows from a pre-existing contract. The
duty
classic case is Stilk v Myrick (1809). On a trip from London to the Baltic and
back, two sailors deserted their ship in Kronstadt. The captain failed to find
replacements for them and promised the eight remaining seamen that the
wages of their two disappeared colleagues would be divided between them
if they worked the ship back to London. However, after the ship had safely
arrived in England the captain refused to pay the sailors the extra salary.
The court agreed, arguing that the sailors had not provided any considera-
tion for the promise the captain had made: they had only done what they
had already promised to do in the initial contract, namely sail back the ship.
There is much to be said in favour of this outcome. A different decision
would open the door for ‘contractual blackmail’: a party could threaten not
to perform the contract, and make unreasonable demands, in every case in
which the other party is in distress (which could be a reason for invalidation
of the contract on basis of threat). On the other hand, it is debated whether
this outcome should be reached on basis of the consideration doctrine. This
seems misplaced as in fact there was a benefit to the promisor (it allowed
Myrick to have the ship sailed home) and a detriment to the promisees (who
had to work a bit harder than otherwise). This explains why the ‘existing
duty’ rule has been under heavy attack.
The most important inroad on it was made in the landmark case Williams
Williams v
v Roffey Bros & Nicholls (Contractors) Ltd, decided by the Court of Appeal
Roffey Bros in 1990. Building contractors Roffey entered into a contract with a housing
association to refurbish a block of 27 flats. The contract contained a so-called
damages clause (see Chapter 12): if Roffey did not complete the work on time,
they were liable to pay a fixed amount in damages. Roffey sub-contracted the
carpentry work to Williams for a price of £20,000. When Williams ran into
financial difficulties because he had under-priced the job and had trouble
supervising his employees, a meeting was held with Roffey, who was obvi-
ously concerned about completing the contract on time. Roffey agreed to pay
Williams an additional £575 per completed flat. Williams managed to finish
eight more flats, but was then refused the promised extra money by Roffey
who argued that he had not provided consideration for the promise of extra
payment. However, the Court of Appeal did find good consideration for
Roffey’s promise in a decision that is generally seen as pragmatic and aimed
at reaching a just result, rather than being a proper application of the ‘existing
duty’ rule. The court found that Roffey had obtained a practical extra benefit
by Williams’s promise to complete the work on time against extra pay. This
practical benefit consisted of Roffey avoiding having to pay a penalty in their
contract with the housing association and of having to go through the trouble
of finding an alternative carpenter to finish the job. English contract layers
have spilt much ink on how to reconcile this case with Stilk v Myrick, but it
seems now clear that an additional practical benefit makes good considera-
tion. This is generally seen as a clear example of the ‘watering-down’ of the
consideration doctrine.
Having set out the main rules of the consideration doctrine, a further ques-
Circumventing
tion arises: is consideration always needed as a requirement for the valid
consideration formation of a contract? English law indeed recognises two techniques to set
consideration aside. One method is to put the agreement in a deed, some-
thing that is possible with any agreement. The other method is to invoke the
doctrine of promissory estoppel, which is only available in a limited number
of cases.
1. Agreement by deed
Parties can escape from the requirement of consideration by putting their
agreement in a so-called deed. Unlike a ‘simple’ contract, a contract made up
in the form of a deed is a formal contract. The requirements a deed must meet
are laid down in section 1 of the Law of Property (Miscellaneous Provisions)
Act 1989. The written document must indicate that it is a ‘deed’, be signed by
the maker, and the signing must be attested by a witness (which means that
the witness watches the maker sign the document and signs his own name as
a witness of this). Although since 1989 a deed no longer needs to be sealed
(which originally took place with real wax and later by simply adding the
letters LS for loco sigilli, ‘place of the seal’), it will in practice often still contain
the traditional words ‘signed, sealed and delivered’. A deed provides an easy
way for a party to make a gratuitous promise enforceable. If Bill wishes to
donate £10 million to the London Wildlife Trust, the law must make this
possible even in the absence of consideration. One way to realise this would
of course be to make a binding contract by having the charity do or give
something in return (such as create a ‘Bill Fund’ or give Bill £1 in return for
his promise), but to make a deed would be another possibility.
2. Promissory estoppel
A principle accepted in any legal system is that no one is allowed to act in
a manner contrary to one’s own previous conduct, particularly not when
another person has acted in reliance on this. German law calls this the pro-
hibition of venire contra factum proprium (literally ‘to go against one’s own
behaviour’). In English law, the principle is reflected in the doctrine of estop-
pel that is often described as providing a legal bar to alleging or denying a fact
in contradiction of one’s own previous conduct. If a municipality enters into
a contract and tells the other party that the contract is approved of by the city
council, the city is usually ‘estopped’ from claiming that the contract is invalid
if it turns out that the council made all kinds of reservations. Estoppel thus
prevents a party from going back on what it said or did. However, English law
lacks one uniform principle of estoppel: its exact conditions are dependent
on the field to which it is applied (property law, procedural law, etc.). In the
context of contract law we must examine the doctrine of promissory estoppel
that was developed in equity (see Chapter 2).
occupy the building. In 1940 Central London therefore agreed to reduce the
rent to £1,250. In 1945 the London property market was again in full swing
and Central London demanded that High Trees resume payment of the full
rent. This was not a problem for the period from 1945 onwards as the waiver
by Central London was assumed to only cover the period in which the flats
were unlettable as a result of the war. But it was not clear that the same was
true for the period between 1940 and 1945. A sound application of the con-
sideration doctrine (more in particular of Pinnel’s case) would have meant
that the claim by Central London to be paid the full rent had to succeed: its
promise to accept a lower yearly amount was not supported by consideration.
Nevertheless Denning J made clear that if Central London had claimed the
rent for 1940–45 its claim would have been rejected. After a survey of old
judicial decisions that most lawyers had long forgotten about, he stated:
They are cases in which a promise was made which was intended to create legal
relations and which, to the knowledge of the person making the promise, was
going to be acted on by the person to whom it was made and which was in fact so
acted on. In such cases, the courts have said that the promise must be honoured.
(…) The courts have not gone so far as to give a cause of action in damages for the
breach of such a promise, but they have refused to allow the party making it to act
inconsistently with it. It is in that sense, and that sense only, that such a promise
gives rise to an estoppel. (…) In my opinion, the time has now come for the
validity of such a promise to be recognized. The logical consequence, no doubt is
that a promise to accept a smaller sum in discharge of a larger sum, if acted upon, is
binding notwithstanding the absence of consideration (…).
The revolutionary aspect of this High Court decision is that it recognises that
a promise lacking consideration (and not laid down in a deed) can still be
binding on basis of promissory estoppel. The doctrine can only be applied if
strict requirements are met:
[Consideration has no] place in the laws of France, Italy, Spain, Germany,
Switzerland and Japan. These are all civilised countries with a highly developed
system of law; how then is it possible to regard the common law of consideration as
axiomatic or as an inevitable element in any code of law? (. . .) I cannot resist the
Despite these forceful attacks it is not very likely that the English courts will
be willing to eradicate an age-old doctrine like consideration. But the conclu-
sion that probably anyone can agree with is that in the course of the last three
centuries, the consideration requirement has moved away from its original
function of providing a good enough motive for why a promisor must be
bound.
The first function of causa is that it allows courts to prevent contracts from
Objective causa
taking effect if the goal that the parties pursue cannot be realised. A text-
book example of a missing (objective) causa in a sales contract is if the good
in reality does not exist: the contract then misses the essential element of
the counter performance. At a time when causa was still a cornerstone of
French law, the Cour de Cassation applied this reasoning for example in the
Chronopost cases (1996 and 2006). Here, the courier service Chronopost
failed to deliver on time an important letter containing a bid in a tender pro-
cedure, despite Chronopost marketing itself as a specialist in swift transport
and guaranteeing the reliability of its service to customers. The courier tried
to escape from liability by invoking an exemption clause in the contract, but
to no avail. The court saw a speedy and reliable service as a fundamental obli-
gation (une obligation essentielle) under the contract and therefore the exemp-
tion clause could not be invoked as this would have deprived the contract
of causa. Put differently: in a contract like this the counter performance of
paying the price lies in a quick and reliable delivery of a letter. A clause limit-
ing liability would obstruct this and leave the contract without causa.
A contract could also lack the subjective causa. In the case Vidéo-club (1996),
Subjective
a couple rented 200 videocassettes at a price of FF40,000 (€6,100) for a
causa period of eight months with a view to starting a videoshop in their little village
of only 1,300 inhabitants. When the rental company asked for payment the
couple invoked the nullity of the contract for lack of causa. Interestingly, the
Cour de Cassation agreed and held that ‘the performance of the contract on
the economic scale envisioned by the parties was impossible’. This is a clear
example of a search for the subjective goals that the parties envisioned with
their contract – even though the outcome can be criticised for being at odds
with legal certainty. The only way to rationalise the decision is to assume that
the rental company knew about the plans of the couple, but failed to warn
them as a professional and experienced party that exploitation was not eco-
nomically viable. A final example of a missing causa is where a party believes
it has a debt towards another person, which turns out to be untrue. In the
case Manuela (1985) someone maintained a child on the assumption that
he was the father; when he found out that the statements made to this effect
by the child’s mother were incorrect, the court held that his payments were
made without causa.
The field of application of causa does not end with these types of cases.
In reality French courts applied causa in very diverse circumstances.
Unfortunately, this did not help in finding a proper place for the doctrine.
Despite fierce resistance of French lawyers who hailed causa as a unique
characteristic of the French legal tradition, it was abolished with the grand
reform of French contract law in 2016. The argument for this was that the
exact function of causa was not very clear and overlapped with other doc-
trines, such as formation and mistake. Indeed, in all the cases mentioned
above, it would have been possible for the court to decide the case in the
same way using other rules. In addition, the French lawmaker reasoned that
causa is absent in the Principles of European Contract Law (PECL) and the
Draft Common Frame of Reference (DCFR).
FURTHER READING
– John Austin, How to do Things with Words?, Cambridge Mass. (Harvard University Press) 1962.
– Hugh Beale et al, Cases, Materials and Text on Contract Law, Ius Commune Casebooks for the
Common Law of Europe, 3rd ed., Oxford (Hart Publishing) 2019, Chapters 10 and 11.
– Hugh Beale (ed.), Chitty on Contracts, 33rd ed., London (Sweet & Maxwell) 2020, Chapter 3.
– Andrew Burrows, A Restatement of the English Law of Contract, Oxford (Oxford University
Press) 2016, Art. 8.
– Charles Fried, Contract as Promise: A Theory of Contractual Obligation, Cambridge Mass.
(Harvard University Press) 1981.
– James Gordley, The Philosophical Origins of Modern Contract Doctrine, Oxford (Oxford
University Press) 1991.
– James Gordley (ed.), The Enforceability of Promises in European Contract Law, Cambridge
(Cambridge University Press) 2001.
– Steve Hedley, ‘Keeping Contract in its place’, Oxford Journal of Legal Studies 5 (1985), 391.
– Hein Kötz, European Contract Law (translated by Gill Mertens and Tony Weir), 2nd ed.,
Oxford (Oxford University Press) 2017, Chapter 4.
– Law Commission, Matrimonial Property, Needs and Agreements, 26 February 2014, Law Com
No. 343.
– Ewan McKendrick, Contract Law, 12th ed., Basingstoke (Palgrave Macmillan) 2017.
– Jörg Neuner, Larenz-Neuner, Allgemeiner Teil des Bürgerlichen Rechts, 12th ed., München
(Beck) 2020.
– Edwin Peel, Treitel on The Law of Contract, 15th ed., London (Sweet & Maxwell) 2020.
– Richard A. Posner, Economic Analysis of Law, 9th ed., (Wolters Kluwer) 2014.
– Frances Quinn, Elliott and Quinn’s Contract Law, 12th ed., Harlow (Pearson) 2019, Chapter 6.
– Stephen A. Smith, Atiyah’s Introduction to the Law of Contract, 6th ed., Oxford (Oxford
University Press) 2006, Chapter VI.
– Francois Terré et al, Droit civil: les obligations, 12th ed., Paris (Dalloz) 2019, Book 1, Title 1
– Robert Wright, ‘Ought the Doctrine of Consideration to be Abolished from the Common
Law?, Harvard Law Review 49 (1936), 1125 ff.
– Reinhard Zimmermann, The Law of Obligations: Roman Foundations of the Civilian Tradition,
Cape Town ( Juta) 1990 (paperback edition with Oxford University Press, Oxford 1996),
Chapter 18.
CHAPTER OVERVIEW
A contract (or any other juridical act) can only be validly concluded by
someone who has the legal capacity to do so. The law does not consider
everyone fit to have this capacity. Two categories of people qualify for not
being legally capable: certain minors (in particular young children) and
people with mental disorders. This chapter examines both categories.
Second, the law has to balance the interests of the incapacitated person with
those with whom they deal. In particular in the case of mentally ill persons,
it is not always apparent to the outside world that a party is not capable of
making a rational decision. If Mac, on his weekly trip to the town close to
the mental institution in which he lives, buys a new car, it may not be clear
to the local Mercedes dealer that he is dealing with a patient suffering from a
psychiatric disorder. The question then is whether the dealer’s reliance that
Mac was perfectly able to form his own will should prevail over the need to
protect Mac against himself. As we saw before, the law tends to protect the
objective reliance of a party: should this reliance be made subordinate to the
protection of the mentally weak?
Each jurisdiction balances these interests in its own way, but the starting
point is the same everywhere: every natural person has the legal capacity to
perform legal transactions. Article 1145 of the French Code Civil, a provi-
sion practically unchanged since 1804, well reflects this universal princi-
ple by saying: ‘Any person may enter into a contract, unless he has been
declared incapable of it by law.’ It is also generally accepted that the two
categories of persons mentioned before may lack legal capacity for their
incapability of rational decision-making. But the extent to which minors
and adults in need of protection are indeed unable to enter into valid trans-
actions differs from one country to another. This chapter looks at these
different approaches.
Minors
All European jurisdictions set the age of legal capacity at 18. But this does not
mean that a transaction entered into by someone below that age is necessar-
ily invalid. Although in principle the contract of a minor is not binding upon
him (meaning that the adult other party cannot claim enforcement), each
jurisdiction allows exceptions to this rule.
English law allows a minor to validly enter into a ‘contract for necessaries.’
English law According to section 3 (3) of the Sale of Goods Act 1979, which reproduces
the case law on this issue, necessaries are ‘goods suitable to the condition in
life of the minor or other person concerned and to his actual requirements
at the time of the sale and delivery’. This includes food, clothing, accom-
modation and anything else that the minor requires at the relevant certain
point in time and that is reasonable to acquire in view of his ‘condition in
life’. The latter means that this particular minor’s income and position need
to be taken into account. If a 17-year-old student orders ten pairs of Jimmy
Choo handmade shoes, this may be suitable to her position in life (as she is
the daughter of a Lincoln’s Inn barrister), but it is not in conformity with her
actual requirements as she already has 25 pairs of shoes in her wardrobe. In
case the contract for necessaries would be binding, the minor is only bound
to pay a reasonable price (Sale of Goods Act 1979, s. 3 (2)).
English law lacks the institution of a statutory representative who can repre-
sent a minor when making a contract. The only relevant question is whether
the contract meets the requirements that were just discussed. In so far as an
English parent does act in the name of his or her children (for example in
litigation), this is usually not because a statute says so, but because the court
has appointed the parent for this specific purpose (while it could also have
appointed another person as a so-called ‘next friend’). In civil law jurisdic-
tions on the other hand, parents do have the general power to represent their
children, which also means that they are able to ‘consent’ to the contract that
a minor entered into. This clearly influences the way civil law countries deal
with contracts made by minors.
French law French law does not differ from English law in accepting as a main principle
that contracts entered into by minors can be invalidated (Arts. 388, 1145 and
1146 Code Civil). However, instead of the minor themself, it is the administra-
teur légal (usually a parent) who acts on behalf of the minor. Article 388-1-1
Code Civil states: ‘The statutory administrator acts as an agent for the minor
in all civil transactions, except cases where the law or usage authorises minors
to act for themselves. (…)’
There are two important exceptions to the main rule that contracts by minors
are invalid. First, as Art. 1148 CC indicates, minors do have capacity if law
or usage says so (capacité usuelle). This is the case in normal transactions of
which it is customary that a minor of a certain age performs them alone. One
must think of contracts of daily life that pose no risk to the minor’s financial
position and are in line with the lifestyle the minor is used to. Purchasing a car
surely does not qualify, but buying a CD surely does. This is confirmed in Art.
1149: even a day-to-day act can be annulled in case it brings an economic dis-
advantage (lésion) to the minor. Second, in the nineteenth century the Cour
de Cassation had already decided that the ratio behind legal incapacity is not
that the minor is not allowed to contract, but that he is not allowed to damage
his own position. The minor (or his statutory representative) can therefore
only invalidate the contract if he proves that he would otherwise suffer an
economic disadvantage (lésion). This rule can now also be found in Art. 1151
Code Civil, which states that: ‘A contract cannot be invalidated if it was useful
to the minor and he did not suffer any economic disadvantage from it, or
profit from it.’ As a result of this French courts will have to ask themselves the
same question as their English colleagues when they have to decide about a
minor’s demand to invalidate the contract: is it beneficial to the minor or not?
Unlike English and French law, which ultimately attach great importance
German law
to how beneficial the contract is for the minor of whatever age, German law
(and the same is true for other countries in the German legal tradition such
as Austria and Greece) adopts a different approach. It puts much greater
emphasis on the consent of the parents as a necessary requirement for a valid
contract. In addition, it distinguishes between two different age categories.
These are the relevant provisions of the German BGB:
§ 106: ‘A minor (Minderjähriger) who has reached the age of seven has limited
capacity to contract under §§ 107 to 113.’
§ 107: ‘For a declaration of intent as a result of which he does not receive only a
legal benefit, a minor requires the consent (Einwilligung) of his legal representative.’
§ 108 (1): ‘If the minor enters into a contract without the necessary consent of the
legal representative, the effectiveness of the contract is subject to the ratification
(Genehmigung) by the legal representative.’
§ 110: ‘A contract entered into by the minor without the approval of the legal
representative is deemed effective from the beginning if the minor effects
performance under the contract with means that were given to him for this
purpose or for free disposal by the legal representative, or by a third party with the
ratification of the representative.’
§ 113(1): ‘If the legal representative authorises the minor to enter service or
employment, the minor has unlimited capacity to enter into juridical acts that
relate to entering or leaving service or employment of the permitted nature or
performing the duties arising from such a relationship. (…)’
The German code here distinguishes between minors below seven years old
(§ 104 (1)), who are deemed wholly incapable of making rational decisions
(§ 105 (1)), and minors from the age of seven to the age of 18 who still have
some possibilities to enter into a valid contract by themselves (§ 106–113).
But these possibilities are limited. The first is mentioned, somewhat hidden
in § 107: if the minor obtains ‘only a legal benefit’ from the contract it is valid
without consent of a parent. However, German law applies this exception in a
very strict way: the minor must not incur any obligation. This severely limits
the scope of application of the provision. Even if a plot of land is donated to a
minor, German courts tend to hold that this is a void contract because obliga-
tions will follow from this (such as the duty to pay property tax). The second
possibility is provided by § 110. A contract entered into thanks to the money
that a minor has received from a parent for a specific purpose or for free dis-
posal (for example weekly pocket money, or money to buy a return ticket to
Lloret de Mar) is also valid.
This means that German law puts much emphasis on the consent of a parent
or other legal representative. Without this consent, either given before
(Einwilligung: § 107) or after (Genehmigung: § 108), the transaction can be
invalidated.
Dutch law Article 1:234 of the Dutch Civil Code combines the English-French and the
German approach. It states:
1. In so far as the law does not provide otherwise, minors have the legal capacity
to perform juridical acts, provided they are acting with the consent of their legal
representative.
2. Consent may be granted only permission for a specific juridical act or for a
specific purpose.
3. Consent is presumed to have been granted to a minor if it relates to a juridical
act of which it is generally accepted practice that it is performed independently by
minors of his age.
On the one hand, Dutch law adopts the German approach that a minor needs
parental consent in order to perform a valid juridical act. It even goes further
than German law by requiring consent under all circumstances (sections 1
and 2). On the other hand, consent is presumed to have been granted (a
presumption that cannot be rebutted by the parents) if a minor performs a
juridical act ‘of which it is generally accepted practice that it is performed
independently by minors of his age’. This is reminiscent of the French-
English approach because the potential benefits of the juridical act will be an
important factor in assessing what the societal norms (‘accepted practice’)
bring with them. The innovative aspect of the Dutch approach is that the
Code explicitly allows for taking into account what is customary for minors
of the same age as the minor who performed the juridical act. One can very
well argue that a six-year old who buys the latest issue of Donald Duck at a
nearby store is presumed to have been granted consent by his parents. This
is because it is generally accepted in Dutch society that children of this age
can buy a €2 comic book. There is even less doubt in case a 15-year old buys
books to be used at school or clothing at H&M. But the younger the child,
the bigger the financial burden, and the less the contract facilitates necessar-
ies, the less likely it is that societal norms allow a minor to act independently.
A 17-year old living 20 km from school buying a second-hand scooter is dif-
ferent from a 15-year old ordering a road bike to be handmade by Pegoretti.
BW) can only be taken by an independent court and must meet strict require-
ments in order not to violate the right to respect for private and family life as
protected by Art. 8 of the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR).
In civil law jurisdictions the court will also appoint a legal representative who
is able to perform juridical acts for the protected person (curateur, curator).
The severe consequences of legal incapacity of adults have led several coun-
Betreuung
tries to develop less intrusive regimes to protect the vulnerable. German
law does so by way of Betreuung (§ 1896 BGB), meaning that a custodian
(Betreuer) is appointed by the court to take care of the affairs of the person
in so far as this is necessary. The court can decide that a person can validly
perform certain types of juridical acts with the consent of the custodian (the
so-called Einwilligungsvorbehalt, reservation of consent). But if the person
binds himself to a transaction that only confers a legal advantage or concerns
a trivial matter, he is bound anyway. § 1903 BGB states to this effect:
(1) To the extent that this is necessary to prevent a substantial danger for the
person or the property of the person under custodianship, the custodianship court
orders that the person under custodianship requires the consent of the custodian
for a declaration of intention that relates to the group of tasks of the custodian
(reservation of consent). (…)
(3) Where a reservation of consent is ordered, the person under custodianship
nevertheless does not require the consent of his custodian if the declaration of
intention merely confers a legal advantage on the person under custodianship.
To the extent that the court does not order otherwise, this also applies if the
declaration of intention relates to a trivial matter of everyday life.
English law also shies away from declaring someone completely incapable of
participating in legal life and has adopted special legislation (in particular the
Mental Health Act 1983 and the Mental Capacity Act 2005) to reflect this.
Next to the regime of legal incapacity France also developed less intrusive
Sauvegarde de protective measures to safeguard the interests of adults (such as the tempo-
justice rary measure of sauvegarde de justice that has existed since the 1960s: it does
not take away the legal capacity, but it allows a court to invalidate lesionary
transactions).
(3) BW), but usually the other party is bound: the rationale behind the pro-
tection of an incapacitated person means that only he can avoid the contract.
The argument of the other party that it had no reason to doubt its counter-
part’s age (‘he had a beard and drove a car’) or medical condition (‘she looked
as healthy as Sophie Dahl’) plays no role. In case of legal incapacity, the law
sacrifices legal certainty and the objective approach in order to protect people
not able to exercise their free will. The shop owner who is close to selling a
BeoSound 5 audio system to a young looking customer can always ask for an
ID. Court decisions incapacitating adults are usually published in a national
public register that in some countries is even available online for a quick and
easy check.
B. Other adults
Contracts can obviously also be concluded by people who are not formally
declared incapable or in need of a custodian by a court decision, but who
Interests do suffer from some mental disorder. In particular if this disorder is only
of a temporary nature (depression) or not yet diagnosed (Alzheimer), it is
not likely that the patient is formally incapacitated. In addition, people can
also be prevented from making a rational decision as a result of a psychosis
or blackout, using too much alcohol or drugs, or simply by being stressed or
tired. An important question is whether they deserve the same protection
as their legally incapacitated partners in misfortune discussed in section A
above. A positive answer is clearly not as self-evident as in case of formal legal
capacity: in the cases dealt with here, the other party is not able to check a
public register. This implies that the interest of the other party relying ‘in
good faith’ on the valid formation of a contract and the interest of the disor-
dered person in need of protection may have to be weighed in a different way.
The German solution is clearly stated in § 105 (2) BGB: ‘Also void is a decla-
Germany
ration of intent that is made in a state of unconsciousness or temporary mental
disturbance.’ The text implies that any reliance of the other party is not rele-
vant: German law protects any person who suffers from a disorder against the
other party even if they have no reason to doubt that person’s mental abilities.
But there is a strict requirement, developed in case law, that the disorder must
be so serious that it fully negates the ability to form one’s will. Court prac-
tice is that the adult, who has to prove that his will was affected by a mental
disorder, will provide the judge with expert opinions on his state of mind at
the time of contracting. If the person of unsound mind can indeed prove he
was prevented from rational decision-making, he can choose whether or not
to keep the contract in place. But there is a similar exception as in cases of
Betreuung, making an everyday transaction perfectly valid:
§ 105a BGB: ‘If a person of full age incapable of contracting enters into an everyday
transaction that can be effected with funds of low value, the contract he enters
into is regarded as effective with regard to performance and, if agreed, counter
performance, as soon as performance has been effected and counter performance
rendered. Sentence 1 above does not apply in the case of considerable danger to
the person or the property of the person incapable of contracting.’
France French law starts from a similar assumption as the German § 105(2) BGB.
Article 414-1 Code Civil states:
The French courts take this provision quite literally and usually do not find
a valid transaction in case of a mental disorder (trouble mental). Again, as in
German law, it is not relevant if the other party relied on any intention: the
proof of mental disorder is enough to invalidate the contract.
English law is more generous in protecting the other party ‘in good faith’.
England
Only if the other party knew that its counterpart was not able to appreciate
the nature and effect of the transaction (she saw him drink ten malt whiskies
in one hour), the latter can decide not to be bound by it (Hart v O’Connor,
1985). This is clearly different from how minors are treated: they can escape
the contract even if the other party was not aware of the young age. This may
sound harsh on the mentally disabled – who as a result are left unprotected in
most cases – but this can be explained from the overall desire of English law
to protect reasonable reliance in a contractual relationship. In addition, the
rule mentioned before on necessaries is not only applicable to a minor, but
also to a person who by reason of mental incapacity (in English law the term
is used for anyone having a disturbance in the mind or brain) or drunkenness
is incompetent to contract: irrespective of whether the other party knew of
the disability, a contract for necessaries is valid and will be converted into a
contract for a reasonable price – if needed (Sale of Goods Act 1979, s. 3 and
Mental Capacity Act 2005, s. 7).
This generosity on the other party ‘in good faith’ in case of a not formally
Netherlands
incapacitated person can also be found in Dutch law. On the one hand, the
Dutch legislator has made it easy on a person of unsound mind to prove that
he did not intend to be bound. To this end, Art. 3:34 of the Dutch Civil Code
states that in cases where the juridical act is disadvantageous for the mentally
disturbed person, he is presumed to have acted under the influence of the
mental disturbance. On the other hand, the other party can always invoke his
reasonable reliance on basis of Art. 3:35 BW. If A feels haunted by demons
that tell him to sell his mansion as soon as possible and B accepts A’s offer
to buy the house for €300,000, A cannot invalidate the contract if B did not
know, nor had to know, about A’s mental inability.
FURTHER READING
– Hein Kötz, European Contract Law Vol. 1 (translated by Tony Weir), Oxford (Oxford University
Press) 1997, Chapter 6.
– Ewan McKendrick, Contract Law, 12th ed., Basingstoke (Palgrave Macmillan) 2017, Chapter
16.
– Basil S. Markesinis, Hannes Unberath and Angus Johnston, The German Law of Contract: A
Comparative Treatise, 2nd ed., Oxford (Hart) 2006.
– Francois Terré et al, Droit civil: les obligations, 12th ed., Paris (Dalloz) 2019, Book 1, Title 1.
CHAPTER OVERVIEW
One of the four main principles of contract law is the principle of infor-
mality: contracts can be concluded in any form. However, some contracts
do require a certain form in order to be valid or to prove their existence.
In other contracts there is a duty on the professional party to give the
consumer all kinds of information before entering into the contract. This
chapter discusses:
Chapter 1 showed that one of the main principles of contract law is that con-
Informality
tracts do not require any form. It was explained that this principle of infor-
mality is the end result of a long historical process. By the nineteenth century
the principle had become so self-evident that the French Code Civil and
German BGB have not even codified the principle. The Dutch Civil Code
put it in Art. 3:37 (1), which states: ‘Unless provided otherwise, declarations,
including communications, can be made in any form and can be inferred
from conduct.’ However, this does not mean that contracts, or certain parts
thereof, can always do without formalities. It has always been the case that
some contracts need to be put in writing (such as gratuitous contracts in the
common law), need to be laid down in a notarial deed (such as donation in
the civil law), or are to be preceded by giving notice to the outside world, fol-
lowed by speaking solemn words in the presence of witnesses and of a public
official (marriage). What is more, formalities are on the rise again as a result
of the wish of legislators to balance unequal bargaining strength between
parties by requiring one of them (the professional party) to provide informa-
tion to the other (the consumer).
First, requiring some kind of formality can be useful to warn a party (or
Warning
both parties) that it is entering into an important or financially dangerous
function transaction. This can be called the cautionary (or warning) function.It aims to
prevent a party from inconsiderate action: mere consensus of the parties is
not seen as sufficient because this would bind them too easily. Good exam-
ples are consumer credit and consumer suretyship, in most jurisdictions both
require a written contract before they become binding on the consumer.
Consumer credit is seen as dangerous because the usually high interest rate
could burden the debtor and his family for a long period of time. In case of
suretyship, also known as ‘guarantee’ or ‘personal security’, a party promises
to pay a creditor if somebody else does not meet its obligations, for example
a mother can stand surety for the debts of her child against a bank. Here too,
the debtor is inclined to overestimate its own solvency and what is more, it is
often difficult for the debtor to refuse a family member to stand surety. The
obligation to put things on paper will offer a party a final chance to reflect on
the transaction.
Second, a formality can be motivated by the wish to provide a party with legal
Information
advice or information before it is bound. This is the information function. A
function good example is the notarial deed that a civil law notary must draft in case of
transfer of immovable property. The notary must warn the parties of the legal
consequences of their action. Other examples are the extensive information
duties on professional parties that follow from European directives. In cases
of consumer credit and distance contracts, for example, the credit supplier
and the seller must give extensive information to the consumer at various
stages of the contracting process.
can still be interpreted differently by the parties; see Chapter 7). An example
from English law is suretyship (in England usually called ‘guarantee’). Under
the English Statute of Frauds 1677 a guarantee must be ‘evidenced in writing’,
meaning that the contract itself does not have to be written but the claimant
must be able to prove the existence of the contract through written evidence
(such as a letter signed by the defendant or an e-mail in which the surety-
ship is mentioned). This means that in the absence of written material even
a CEO of a large company, who promises over lunch to guarantee another’s
debt, will not be bound despite the availability of three witnesses present at
the restaurant table. As we will see, German, French and Dutch law do not
require the written form for the validity or proof of a commercial suretyship.
Another example of the need to put things into writing is the so-called ‘holo-
graphic testament’. In civil law countries (see e.g. Art. 970 CC, 2247 BGB,
Art. 4:94 ff. BW) the testator is able to dispose of at least some of his goods
(which goods exactly differs from one country to another) by way of a com-
pletely handwritten document. This ‘do it yourself ’ testament is only valid
if handwritten to ensure that it is really the testator’s well-considered last
will. The Guinness Book of World Records reports as the shortest will ever
written: ‘Vse zene’ (Czech for ‘all to my wife’), written on the bedroom wall
of a man realising his imminent death. English law regards such a holographic
will as invalid if not made in the presence of two witnesses who have signed
the document.
Even if the written form is not legally required, many parties will still put
their contract into writing. This forces them to think through the conse-
quences of the contract and will make it easier to provide evidence of the
binding agreement if necessary. In the English case of Hadley v Kemp (1999),
three members of the pop group Spandau Ballet took the band’s songwriter
Gary Kemp to court claiming that they should receive part of the royalties on
the band’s music. Their claim was that they had orally agreed upon sharing
these royalties, but were not able to prove the existence of such a contract in
the absence of any written agreement.
Types of formalities
A. Contracts to be made by notarial deed
French, German and Dutch law require certain contracts to be made by
notarial deed (acte authentique, Beurkundung, authentieke akte). This can be
seen as the most strict formality available in the civil law. It requires not only
that a deed is drafted by the notary and signed by the parties, but also that
the notary establishes that the parties indeed intend to be bound after having
been warned about the legal consequences of their action (see Box 6.1). Civil
law countries typically require intervention of a notary in case of donation
(also known as the promise to make a gift: Art. 931 CC, § 518 BGB), creat-
Gift ing a mortgage (Art. 2416 CC, § 873 BGB, Art. 3:260 BW), matrimonial
contracts (Art. 1394 CC, § 1410, Art. 1:115 BW), the making of a public
testament (Art. 971 CC, § 2232 BGB) and the establishing of a corporation
(§ 23 Aktiengesetz, Art. 2:64 (2) BW).
But the requirement of a notarial deed should not frustrate daily life. One can
readily see the importance of notarial intervention in the types of transac-
tions mentioned above: they almost all concern complicated acts that people
tend to make only once or twice in their life and therefore require careful
consideration and advice. There is one possible exception to this: giving
something away on the spot. If one presents someone with a birthday present
or hands over goods with the intention to benefit the donee, this is a binding
contract despite the absence of a notarial deed. This is after all not a promise
to make a gift, but the actual giving (Art. H.-1:104 DCFR speaks of an ‘imme-
diate donation’, French law of a don manuel, German law of Handschenkung
and Dutch law of a gift van hand tot hand). § 518 BGB makes this explicitly
clear in section 2:
The sale and transfer of land and immovables are often also subject to notarial
Immovables
requirements. For most people these are the most expensive transactions they
ever enter into during their life. Thus, German law requires that both the sale
of a plot of land (§ 311b BGB) and the later separate transfer of ownership (§
925 BGB) take place through intervention of a notary. Dutch law on the other
hand only requires the actual transfer of ownership in immovables to be made
by a notarial deed (Art. 3:89 BW). Only the previous purchase of a residential
house or apartment is to be made in writing (see subsection B below). French
law in this respect offers the least protection to the buyer. In Chapter 3 the point
was made that under French law (Art. 1583 CC) ownership of a good passes as
BOX 6.1
soon as the contract is concluded. The making of a notary deed and the subse-
quent registration of this deed in the land register is therefore no requirement
for the contract to be valid or for the transfer of the property. The reason why
a notary deed is made in French law is therefore a different one: only after reg-
istration of such a deed is it apparent to third parties who is the owner of the
immovable. If registration did not take place, the owner could therefore not
enforce his rights against a third party who, not in bad faith, also bought the
land from the seller and filed for registration first. So if the seller decides to sell
the house a second time to somebody else, or mortgages the property, the first
buyer needs to have registered his notarial deed in order to prevail against the
second buyer or moneylender. This effect of registration is so important that in
French practice notarial deeds for the sale of immovables are always made and
registered, but the rationale of protection of the seller and purchaser against
their own inconsiderate action does not apply: between seller and buyer the
property of the immovable is transferred even without a notarial deed.
But many national laws also require a contract to be in writing. When exactly
this is the case differs from one country to another and anyone who aims to give
a complete list will rapidly lose its readers. Examples include the following:
z It was seen in Chapter 4 that under English law a gratuitous promise can
English law
be made binding by way of a deed (a document signed by the maker and
attested by a witness). English law also requires a deed in case of a lease
for three years or more (Law of Property Act 1925, ss 52, 54). Contracts
for the sale of land (or other dispositions of an interest in land) do not
require a deed (as in case of a gift), but they must be made in writing
and signed by each party (Law of Property (Miscellaneous Provisions)
Act 1989, s. 2). The contract is void if the document does not state all
the terms to which the parties have explicitly agreed. As in many other
jurisdictions English law also requires the written form in case of a so-
called hire purchase contract (Consumer Credit Act 1974, s. 60). If a
buyer cannot afford to pay the asked price for a product at the moment
of concluding the contract, but can afford to pay a monthly percentage,
hire purchase allows the buyer to still conclude the contract. The hirer
purchaser becomes the owner of the good when the monthly instalments
equal the total price (naturally plus interest). This type of contract is
often used to buy (‘lease’) a new car.
z German law requires the written form (Schriftform) for example in case of
German law
consumer suretyship (Bürgschaft: § 766 BGB and § 350 Handelsgesetzbu
ch), lease (Mietvertrag) for a specified period of more than one year
(§ 550 BGB) and in case of ending an employment contract (§ 623
BGB) or lease (§ 568 BGB).
z In French law writing (écrit ordinaire) is not only required in cases of
French law
an employment contract for a definite period (Art. L 1242-12 Code du
Travail), but also – to give just a few examples – in case of a contract to
build a residential house (Art. L 231-1/2 and 232-1 Code de la construc-
tion et de l’habitation), to obtain life insurance (Art. L 132-5 Code des
assurances) and to engage a real estate agent (Act of 2 January 1970, Art.
6) or a marriage agency (Art. L224-90 Consumer Code). Interestingly
neither French nor Dutch law requires the written form for the validity
of a contract of consumer suretyship. French courts consider the rel-
evant Arts 1376 and 2292 of the Code Civil only as rules of proof, while
Art. 7:859 Dutch Civil Code explicitly says that suretyship can only be
proved against the guarantor by a document signed by him, unless the
guarantor already performed (part of) his obligations.
z The Dutch Civil Code requires the written form (akte) for a range of poten-
Dutch law
tially ‘dangerous’ transactions, including hire purchase (huurkoop: Art.
7:86 and 7:102 BW), ending a residential lease (Art. 7:271 (3) BW), the
contract to build a residential house (Art. 7:766 BW) and several clauses
that can be part of an employment contract, such as the non-compete
(‘restraint of trade’) clause (Art. 7:653 BW), on which, more in Chapter
10. In 2003 the Dutch legislator also introduced protection for the buyer
of a residential house by requiring the contract to be made in writing and
giving the consumer-buyer a three-day period within which he can with-
draw from the contract without giving any reason. Article 7:2 BW states to
this effect:
when entering into the agreement, does not act in the course of his professional
practice or business.
2. The document, drawn up for this purpose between the parties, or a copy of it
must be handed over to the buyer against issuance, if the seller desires so, of a dated
receipt. During three days after the document or its copy has been handed over
to the buyer, the buyer has the right to terminate the purchase. When within six
months after the buyer has used this right, the same parties enter again into a new
sale agreement related to the same immovable thing or part of it, then this right of
termination does not arise again.’
Noe Action shall be brought (…) whereby to charge the Defendant upon any
speciall promise to answere for the debt default or miscarriages of another person
(…) unlesse the Agreement upon which such Action shall be brought or some
Memorandum or Note thereof shall be in Writeing and signed by the partie to be
charged therewith or some other person thereunto by him lawfully authorized.
This evidence can be derived from any written document, for example from
a correspondence (including e-mails) that mentions the oral agreement,
even if only in passing. It is essential, however, that the writing is clearly from
the party against whom the claim is brought (which is easy in cases where its
name is on the document).
French law is in theory much more restrictive in allowing the parties to prove
Evidentiary
the existence of a contract. Some even speak of ‘evidentiary formalism’. This
formalism is because the French civil code clearly prioritises written evidence over any
other type (such as proof by witnesses or experts). The two main provisions
of the Code Civil are the following:
Art. 1359 CC: ‘A juridical act relating to a sum of money or value in excess of an
amount fixed by decree [€1500] must be proved by evidence in writing, whether
privately signed or authenticated.
No proof may be brought beyond or contrary to evidence in writing establishing
a juridical act, even if the sum of money or value does not exceed this amount,
except by other written evidence which is signed or contained in privately signed
or authenticated writing.
A person whose contractual right exceeds the threshold mentioned in the previous
paragraph may not be dispensed from proving it by evidence in writing by reducing
his claim.
The same rule applies to a person whose claim, even if lower than this amount,
concerns the balance of a sum or a part of a right higher than this amount.’
Although perhaps difficult to read for non-specialists, Art. 1359 simply states
that all transactions exceeding the value of €800 and not made in writing (by
a notary or by the parties themselves) cannot be proved by witnesses, but
only in writing. This is a far-reaching provision that would seriously restrict
the binding force of contracts if it were strictly applied. However, two impor-
tant restrictions exist. First, the provision does not apply to commercial
transactions (Art. L 110-3 Code de Commerce). And second, Art. 1361 allows
that proof by witnesses is allowed if there is so-called ‘prima facie’ written
evidence. This means that if some document can be produced (not the con-
tract itself, but – as in English law – for example an e-mail or a document
from which it can be inferred that an oral contract was concluded), further
evidence by witnesses is possible. The courts easily find this ‘commencement
de preuve’, almost turning Art. 1359 into a dead letter. This does of course not
keep knowledgeable parties from writing down their agreement – as they will
also do in any other jurisdiction.
In order to enable consumers to make their decisions in full knowledge of the facts,
they should receive adequate information, which the consumer may take away
and consider, prior to the conclusion of the credit agreement, on the conditions
and cost of the credit and on their obligations. To ensure the fullest possible
transparency and comparability of offers, such information should, in particular,
include the annual percentage rate of charge applicable to the credit, determined
in the same way throughout the Union. As the annual percentage rate of charge
can at this stage be indicated only through an example, such example should be
representative.
Member States shall lay down the rules on penalties applicable to infringements
of the national provisions adopted pursuant to this Directive and shall take all
measures necessary to ensure that they are implemented. The penalties provided
for must be effective, proportionate and dissuasive.
by writing letters, sending faxes or signing forms, but by e-mail and instant
messaging services such as WhatsApp. The question relevant to the law is
whether these means of communication in electronic form also satisfy the
need for ‘writing’. There seem to be two problems with this. The first is that
the warning function of having to sign a piece of paper may be watered down
if it is just as easy to obtain consumer credit by clicking a few buttons on a
website, or text one’s grandmother with the question if she could stand surety
for your debt against a friend. The second problem is that a paper signature
is still seen as more reliable than an e-mail containing one’s name. While a
written signature is unique to a person, a typed name is not.
It will come as no surprise that the EU has a great interest in this matter.
Online
It regards contracts concluded over the internet as the jewel in the crown
contracts of cross-border shopping, and therefore of the European internal market.
Electronic contracts are not hampered by physical borders: presumably it
is just as easy for an e-trader in Hungary to sell to his fellow countrymen as
it is to sell to any other European. This explains why the European legisla-
ture issued two directives particularly aimed at facilitating online contracts.
Directive 2000/31 on Electronic Commerce states in Art. 9 (1):
Member States shall ensure that their legal system allows contracts to be concluded
by electronic means. Member States shall in particular ensure that the legal
requirements applicable to the contractual process neither create obstacles for
the use of electronic contracts nor result in such contracts being deprived of legal
effectiveness and validity on account of their having been made by electronic
means.
1. Member States shall ensure that advanced electronic signatures which are based
on a qualified certificate and which are created by a secure-signature-creation
device:
(a) satisfy the legal requirements of a signature in relation to data in electronic
form in the same manner as a handwritten signature satisfies those requirements in
relation to paper-based data; and
(b) are admissible as evidence in legal proceedings.
The Member States have implemented these provisions in their national laws
(see e.g. Arts. 1125 ff. CC, § 126 ff. BGB and the UK Electronic Commerce
(EC Directive) Regulations 2002). When doing so, some countries took the
opportunity to further clarify which requirements internet shopping should
meet, just to make it even more reliable for the consumer. An interesting
provision in this respect is Art. 6:227a Dutch Civil Code; it mentions four
advantages of putting a contract on paper and then goes on to state that if
these four points are also met by electronic communication the contract is
just as valid:
There is one important aspect of electronic contracts that has not yet been
mentioned. As said before, the quoted provisions do not solve the problem
that electronic communication may not ‘warn’ an interested party of the
dangers of the transaction. This is exactly the reason why, as a counterweight
to facilitating e-commerce, the European legislature requires e-sellers to give
information to the consumer. Directive 2011/83 on Consumer Rights states
Information that in case of ‘distance contracts’ (such as contracts concluded over the inter-
duties net) the trader must provide information, for example on the main character-
istics of the goods or services, the identity and address of the trader, the price
and the mode of delivery (Art. 6). In addition, the trader must provide the
consumer with a confirmation of the contract on a durable medium (accord-
ing to the preamble of the directive not only paper, but also ‘USB sticks,
CD-ROMs, DVDs, memory cards or the hard disks of computers as well as
e-mails’) at the latest at the time of delivery of the goods (Art. 8 (7)). After
delivery the consumer has 14 days to withdraw from the contract without
giving any reason (Art. 9 (1)). The directive contains a model withdrawal
form that can be used by the consumer. The combination of these require-
ments probably provides the consumer with better protection than the old-
fashioned written form.
BOX 6.2
RIGHTS OF WITHDRAWAL
The right of a consumer to withdraw from consumer to acquire the information she
a contract has become a prominent feature needs by inspecting the product before
of European contract law. The most impor- being definitively bound or by assessing
tant contracts in which the right exists are the risks involved in the transaction (as
distance contracts (such as those concluded in consumer credit). To see a photo on a
over the internet), off-premises contracts website is different from being able to actu-
(such as doorstep selling), consumer credit ally touch and feel the product. Withdrawal
and timeshare. In each of these contracts rights thus help consumers to better exer-
the consumer has 14 days after delivery or cise their freedom of contract: their consent
the day of conclusion to end the contract is presumably more free and informed.
without giving any reason. In case the These statutory rights of withdrawal
trader failed to inform the consumer about must be distinguished from so-called rights
the right of withdrawal, the period expires to return. Many retail shops throughout
14 days after the consumer was informed. the world have adopted the policy that
Two different motives exist to allow the customers can return goods at will and
consumer this ‘cooling off-period’ in which receive back the contract price or at least a
she can reconsider her assent to the con- credit note with which they can buy a dif-
tract. The first is that a consumer sometimes ferent product in the same shop. This return
needs to be protected against a lack of psy- policy is often laid down in the general
chological strength. This is a good reason conditions of the retailer. These contrac-
for a withdrawal right if the other party tual rights are even so common that the
makes use of aggressive sales techniques, general public sometimes thinks that there
takes the consumer by surprise or intrudes is a ‘general right to return goods’. But this
into the privacy of her home (as in case of is not the case: the existence of these con-
doorstep sales and timeshare). The second tractual rights is entirely dependent on the
possible motive is when a lack of informa- retailer’s willingness to provide these to its
tional strength prevents the consumer from customers, thus allowing it to distinguish
forming an accurate picture of the product itself from its competitors. This explains why
being sold or of the nature of the transac- different shops use different return periods:
tion (which is typically the case in distance while some shops offer 14 days, others
contracts and consumer credit). A with- allow 90 days, 180 days or even an indefi-
drawal right can then be used to remedy nite period.
the information asymmetry: it allows the
§ 125 BGB: ‘A juridical act that lacks the form prescribed by statute is void. In case
of doubt, lack of the form specified by juridical act also results in voidness.’
Art. 3:39 BW: ‘Unless the law provides otherwise, a juridical act that is not
performed in accordance with formal requirements, is null and void.’
English law adopts practically the same approach by holding the contract
Aim of the rule
‘unenforceable’. But things are not that straightforward. In practice much
depends on the ratio of the formality. It is indeed justified to hold the con-
tract void if the formality not complied with serves the interest of both
parties, or some general interest such as the legal certainty that third parties
must be able to rely on. If for example no notarial deed was made for the
transfer of immovable property in German or Dutch law, it is wholly rea-
sonable to hold the transfer void. The court must note this out of its own
motion. This is different in cases where the formality only aims to protect
one party to the contract. So in case of suretyship, residential lease, employ-
ment and consumer contracts – all contracts where the formality exists only
to protect one party against the other, or against itself – it is often sufficient
to hold the contract only avoidable. This means that the protected party
can decide if it wants to keep the contract in place or not. This approach of
making it dependent on the purpose of the formality whether the contract
should be void or avoidable is not only adopted in France, but also in any
other jurisdiction – even though the text of § 125 BGB seems to suggest
otherwise.
First, it could be that the statute itself indicates that an invalid contract is
converted into a valid one in the interest of the party for whose protection
the formality was introduced. If a residential lease concluded for a period of
more than one year is not made in writing, § 550 BGB simply converts it into
a contract for an indeterminate time. The formal requirement solely exists in
the interest of the lessee and this justifies that the defect of form is cured to
his benefit.
Second, it may happen that one party or both parties actually carry out the
intended contract without worrying about any formalities. In such a case the
performance itself could cure the defect. Sometimes the law explicitly states
this. If the guarantor in a consumer suretyship simply performs (meaning
that he pays the creditor) the contract is valid, despite the fact that the guar-
antee was only made orally (Art. 7:859 BW and § 766 BGB explicitly say so).
The ‘immediate donation’ as discussed above is another example: the gift is
valid despite the absence of a notarial deed.
An example of reliance making good the defect of form in such a case is pro-
vided by a decision of the Bundesgerichtshof in 1967 (Kaufmannsehrenwort).
The buyer of a plot of land was given a document signed by the director
of the selling company containing the details of the sale. The buyer was a
former employee of the seller. In response to the buyer’s request to have a
notary make a deed (as required by § 311b BGB) the seller said that he was
‘used to respect his obligations, no matter whether they were made orally,
in writing or in notarial form’. When the buyer insisted, the seller replied
that ‘the contract was equivalent to a notarial contract’. When the seller later
argued that no valid contract had been formed for lack of a notarial deed,
the court found that he could not invoke this defect, in particular not now
that the buyer had acted in reliance on the seller’s promises. This is another
application of the principle that one is not allowed to go against one’s own
previous behaviour, as encountered before in Chapter 4. This can also be
seen in the English case Pascoe v Turner (1979). Mr. Pascoe owned a house
in Cornwall and Mrs. Turner moved in as his housekeeper, later his mistress.
Mr. Pascoe repeatedly told Mrs. Turner that the house was hers. When he
started seeing another woman, he asked her to leave the house, in which she
had invested all her savings to repair and redecorate it. Despite the absence
of consideration or the promise being put in a deed, the court found that
the house should be conveyed to Mrs. Turner. His assurances, her detriment
in reliance thereon, and the fact that he saw her spend her money on the
house without protesting against this, were sufficient to estop Mr. Pascoe
from claiming the house was his. This so-called proprietary estoppel was
thus used to found a cause of action (unlike promissory estoppel discussed
in Chapter 4).
FURTHER READING
– Hugh Beale et al, Cases, Materials and Text on Contract Law, Ius Commune Casebooks for the
Common Law of Europe, 3rd ed., Oxford (Hart Publishing) 2019, Chapter 12.
– Sjef van Erp and Bram Akkermans (eds.), Cases, Materials and Text on Property Law, Ius
Commune Casebooks for the Common Law of Europe, Oxford (Hart) 2012, Chapter 8.
– Lon Fuller, ‘Consideration and Form’, 41 Columbia Law Review (1941), 799.
– Peter Rott, ‘Information obligations and withdrawal rights’, in: Christian Twigg-Flesner (ed.),
The Cambridge Companion to European Union Private Law, Cambridge (Cambridge University
Press) 2010, 187–200.
– Francois Terré et al, Droit civil: les obligations, 12th ed., Paris (Dalloz) 2019, Book 1, Title 1.
CHAPTER OVERVIEW
The party agreement consists of the contractual terms that the parties
have explicitly agreed upon. This agreement can be unclear, which calls for
interpretation in order to give one meaning to the used terms. The agree-
ment can also be incomplete, calling for gap filling (also known as supple-
mentation of the party agreement). This chapter examines:
First, it can happen that parties did not provide for a certain contingency
because it is such an obvious part of the contract that they did not believe it
necessary to spell it out. If I rent a car from Hertz, the rental company will
have to provide me with the car keys, even though one will not find anything
on this in the contract or in Hertz’s general conditions. If necessary the court
fills this gap in the party agreement by speaking for the parties: although
they did not consider the matter, the court construes what they would have
said. In several jurisdictions this is regarded as a type of interpretation, called
supplementary or constructive interpretation. This is true for Germany (where
it is called ergänzende Vertragsauslegung) and France (interprétation créatrice).
Ad hoc gap English law is a bit more candid by speaking of terms implied in fact. The
filling overall term used in this book for these techniques is ad hoc gap filling: the
party agreement is supplemented with terms that follow from the hypotheti-
cal will of the parties in the circumstances of the case.
is where the second type of gap filling comes in, namely gap filling through
default rules. As was already hinted at in Chapter 2, the gaps in the contract
left by the parties are filled by the default (or ‘facilitative’) rules that are auto-
matically applicable in so far as the parties did not deviate from them. These
default rules (règles supplétives, dispositives Recht, aanvullend recht) provide
standard solutions for problems that typically arise in certain types of con-
tracts. In civil law jurisdictions they can be found in the national civil code.
In English law they are called terms implied in law and are more frequently
developed by the courts.
This chapter discusses all three aspects of establishing the contents of the
contract: interpretation of the party agreement, ad hoc gap filling, and gap
filling through default rules.
law to certain acts of the parties, usually words, which ordinarily accompany and
represent a known intent. If, however, it were proved by twenty bishops that either
party when he used the words intended something else than the usual meaning
which the law imposes on them, he would still be held (…).
The same tension between verba (words) and voluntas (intention) can be
found in English law. The traditional starting point of English law in case
of doubt about the meaning of contractual terms was not to look for the
common intention of the parties, but an extreme version of the objective
approach, namely to interpret a contract according to its literal meaning. In
the case of Lovell & Christmas Ltd v Wall (1911), for example, it was held
that ‘it is the duty of the court (…) to construe the document according to
the ordinary grammatical meaning of the words used therein’. This approach
has been abandoned. According to the authoritative formulation of Lord
Hoffmann in Investors Compensation Scheme Ltd v West Bromwich Building
Society (1998), interpretation is ‘the ascertainment of the meaning which the
document would convey to a reasonable person having all the background
knowledge which would reasonably have been available to the parties in the
situation which they were at the time of the contract’.
two quotes. The first is taken from the seminal case Haviltex (1981) in which
the Hoge Raad formulated the main rule for interpretation in Dutch law:
The question how a written contract regulates the relationship between parties,
and whether this contract leaves a gap that must be supplemented, cannot be
answered on basis of only a purely literal interpretation of the provisions of the
contract. To answer that question, it is decisive what is the meaning that parties in
the circumstances of the case could mutually reasonably attach to these provisions
and what they could in that respect reasonably expect from each other. In this
process, it is inter alia of relevance what the parties societal position is and what
knowledge of the law can be expected of such parties.
The second quote is from Lord Steyn in the English case Lord Napier and
Ettrick v R F Kershaw Ltd (1999). It explains further why Lord Hoffmann
(see above) put so much emphasis on interpretation by a reasonable person:
There is no problem in cases where both parties are mistaken about what
a term means. To give an old example that is now highly politically incor-
rect: if both seller and buyer use the word Haakjöringsköd because they both
believe this means whale meat, while it is actually Norwegian for shark meat,
it is whale meat that needs to be delivered because this is what both parties
had in mind when concluding the contract. The buyer can claim damages if
he only received shark meat, as the German highest court decided in 1920.
This is simply a matter of having the common intention of the parties (one
Falsa
could say: their shared subjective understanding) prevail over the objective
demonstratio meaning of the contract. Lawyers qualify this type of case as falsa demonstra-
tio non nocet (‘a wrong description does no harm’); it would fall under section
1 of the just quoted Art. 5:101 PECL.
Common
Equally simple is the case in which parties are not mistaken about the
understanding meaning of a term (as above), but in which their common understanding of
a word differs from its usual meaning. If a motorcycle fan has always referred
to her Harley Davidson motorbike as her ‘little trike’, and then sells ‘my trike’
for €3,000 to her uncle who knows of this odd habit, the uncle can protest if
he is delivered a child’s tricycle. Article 5:101 s. 2 PECL reflects this.
Ambiguous
Things become more difficult if parties use truly ambiguous clauses. Civil
clauses law jurisdictions allow the court to look at a range of different circumstances
in interpreting such clauses. This is well reflected in Art. 5:102 PECL, which
states:
Even if the plaintiff, when it formulated its terms, deliberately chose wording
that banks regularly use for first demand guarantees, it could not assume, on that
ground alone, that the defendant intended to be bound to such a guarantee. From
the point of view of the creditor, who initiated and formulated the guarantee,
the intention of the guarantor can only have been in accordance with what she
understood the wording submitted to her to mean. This is why the plaintiff
must accept the declaration of guarantee as having the meaning which she can
objectively derive from it in the circumstances of the case.
However, the wording of the agreement in question (‘The guaranteed sum shall
become immediately payable upon demand or upon this deed being first produced
…’) corresponds to the standard formulation as it has come to be used in banking
transactions for demand guarantees. Such circumstances lying outside of the
declaration itself can be taken into account in the interpretation, in so far as they
allow the recipient of the declaration to draw a conclusion as to its meaning. (…)
That is not the case here, as the plaintiff could not assume that the defendant
knew or should have known the meaning of the wording of the agreement in
banking operations. (…) A demand guarantee is a typical banking transaction.
It is little known outside of banking circles. The plaintiff has not argued that the
defendant had experience with respect to credit securities in general or about
demand guarantees in particular; nor did the plaintiff argue that the defendant was
informed of the specificities of a demand guarantee.
The proper interpretation of the guarantee was therefore that it was only a
‘simple’ guarantee and not a demand guarantee. This meant that the surety
could validly invoke the reasons why she did not want to pay the creditor. It
is not difficult to see various elements of Art. 5:102 sub a PECL coming back
in the decision:
a: ‘the circumstances in which the contract was concluded’: the defendant was
talked into the guarantee by her husband;
b: ‘the conduct of the parties’: the creditor did not inform the defendant about the
risks of the guarantee and used only a standard formulation in the contract;
c: ‘the nature and purpose of the contract’: a demand guarantee is a dangerous
transaction that can be very burdensome for the debtor; (…)
e: ‘the meaning commonly given to terms and expressions’: there is a specific
meaning given to a demand guarantee, but only in banking circles. The specific
meaning of the term was not known to the defendant.
A relevant factor not mentioned in Art. 5:102 PECL, but highly relevant in
Expertise
most jurisdictions, is the position of the parties and what knowledge and
experience can be expected of them. This element was mentioned in the
Dutch Haviltex case (see above) and is also relevant for the German court:
the defendant was an inexperienced layperson who did not have to know
about the true meaning of the guarantee and who did not have an expert
present when the contract was made.
BOX 7.1
1268 of the new Romanian Civil Code of 2011). Thus, the interpretation is
preferred that gives an ambiguous clause some effect rather than none at all
(Art. 1191 CC). Clauses must also be interpreted in the light of the entire
contract (Art. 1189). Some of these rules can also be found in the PECL, that
adds the provision that individually negotiated terms take preference over
those which are not (Art. 5:104) and that in case of a discrepancy between
two language versions of one contract the interpretation that accords to the
original version of the contract prevails (Art. 5:107).
In the case of contracts where all or certain terms offered to the consumer are in
writing, these terms must always be drafted in plain, intelligible language. Where
there is doubt about the meaning of a term, the interpretation most favourable to
the consumer shall prevail.
As a result, all European Member States have adopted the contra profer-
entem rule in any event for general conditions in consumer contracts (see
for example § 305c (2) BGB, Art. L 211-1 French Consumer Code, s. 69
Consumer Rights Act 2015 and Art. 6:238 (2) BW). Some of these jurisdic-
tions also apply the rule to commercial contracts (as is also possible under
Art. 5:103 PECL).
(1) The terms of a contract may be derived from the express or tacit agreement of
the parties, from rules of law or from practices established between the parties or
usages.
(2) Where it is necessary to provide for a matter which the parties have not
foreseen or provided for, a court may imply an additional term, having regard in
particular to:
All jurisdictions accept this ad hoc gap filling to give meaning to the contract,
Germany
albeit under different names. It is applied in much less obvious cases than
the car keys example mentioned before. In German law this is ergänzende
Vertragsauslegung (supplementing interpretation of the contract, based on the
general provision on interpretation of § 157 BGB). It entails that in case the
parties have omitted to say something, the court must – in the wording of
the Bundesgerichtshof – ‘discover and take into account what, in the light of the
whole purpose of the contract, they would have said if they had dealt with
the point in question, acting pursuant to the requirements of good faith and
sound business practice’ (Swapping doctors, 1954). In that case, a doctor who
had swapped practices with a colleague was barred from opening a new prac-
tice in the vicinity of his old one for a reasonable period of two to three years.
by the parties, but also those which, according to the nature of the contract,
result from statute, usage or the requirements of good faith (reasonableness
and fairness).’
English law does not regard ad hoc gap filling as a means of interpretation.
England
Instead it speaks of terms implied in fact. Again, these are terms that are not
explicitly laid down in the contract, but of which it is assumed that parties
Tests would have included them if they had directed their minds to it. English
courts have developed two tests to find this unexpressed intention. The
first one is often called the ‘officious bystander’ test and was formulated by
MacKinnon LJ in Shirlaw v Southern Foundries (1939):
Prima facie that which in any contract is left to be implied and need not be
expressed is something so obvious that it goes without saying; so that, if while the
parties were making their bargain, an officious bystander were to suggest some
express provision for it in the agreement, they would testily suppress him with a
common, “Oh, of course!”
The second test is called the ‘business efficacy’ test. The leading case is The
Moorcock (1889). Parties had entered into a contract that allowed the plaintiff
to unload his boat The Moorcock at the wharf of the defendant. The boat was
damaged when the unloading took place at low tide and hit the hard ground
of the riverbed. It was not explicitly stated in the contract that the boat had
to be moored safely, but the Court of Appeal implied such a term arguing
that this ‘must be necessary to give the transaction such business efficacy as
the parties must have intended’. In other words: the defendant should have
warned the plaintiff of the unevenness of the riverbed. Any other view would
have meant that the plaintiff had only bought ‘an opportunity of danger’.
Consequently the boat owner could claim damages for breach of contract.
Both tests largely overlap. They concur in only allowing the court to imply a
term if the contract is ineffective without it, and if the term is so obvious that
it goes without saying that it must be part of the contract. These are strict
criteria that only lead to inclusion of terms in fact if really necessary. Not just
any ‘reasonable’ term can be implied with the argument that it is a term that a
reasonable person would have agreed to; instead it is about the hypothetical
intention of these parties.
ard solutions for problems typical to a certain type of contract. These default
rules exist for all contracts regulated in civil codes, such as contracts of sale,
employment and lease. In the common law comparable standards exist under
the heading of terms implied in law. These sometimes flow from statutes (in
particular the Sale of Goods Act 1979), but are more often developed by
the courts. The different terminology used in English law reveals a deeper
truth: while civil law jurisdictions are happy to say that these rules are simply
imposed by the legislator, English law finds this public interference with the
contract more problematic and prefers to say that they are implied with the
contract. English law thus gives pride of place to the parties.
By providing default rules the legislator or court offers a service to the con-
Ratio
tracting parties. It saves them the expense of time and money to n egotiate
about terms that most probably will not have to be invoked anyway.
Instead they can rely on rules that balance the parties’ interests in a just
way. However, if parties prefer to make their own terms the default law
will yield to this contrary agreement. It is thus extremely useful for parties
to be able to rely on provisions such as: sold goods must be of satisfac-
tory quality (e.g. Sale of Goods Act 1979, s. 14 (2) and Consumer Rights
Act 2015, s. 9); any sold good must be suitable for normal use (e.g. § 434
BGB); the rent is due at the beginning of the lease period (e.g. § 556b (1)
BGB); the employee is entitled to a reference at the end of the employment
(e.g. Art. 7:656 BW and Spring v Guardian Assurance plc, 1994); and the
lender of a thing must tell the borrower about defects that may cause harm
to the person who uses it if he knows of the defects (e.g. Art. 1891 CC).
Each system of national contract law typically has hundreds of such default
provisions.
The difference between statutory default terms typical to civil law jurisdic-
Liverpool City
tions and terms implied in law by the English courts can be illustrated by
Council v Irwin reference to the case of Liverpool City Council v Irwin (1977). Mr. and Mrs.
Irwin were the tenants of a flat on the ninth floor of a 15-storey, high-rise
block in Liverpool. The common parts of the building were constantly van-
dalised with the result that the stair lights failed, lifts did not work and the
garbage chute was usually blocked. Together with other tenants Mr. and Mrs.
Irwin withheld their rent. When the landlord (the city of Liverpool) brought
an action to evict them, they counterclaimed that there was a duty on the part
of the landlord to keep the common parts of the building in a decent state
and properly lit. The City Council denied the existence of such a duty: there
was no contract that listed such an obligation on the landlord. The House
of Lords, however, held that the landlord had ‘an obligation to take reason-
able care to keep the common parts of the block in reasonable repair and
such obligation should be read into the contract as the nature of the contract
itself implicitly requires, no more, no less: a test in other words of necessity. The
relationship accepted by the Corporation is that of landlord and tenant: the tenant
accepts obligations accordingly, in relation inter alia to the stairs, the lifts and the
chutes. All these are not just facilities, or conveniences provided at discretion:
they are essentials of the tenancy without which life in the dwellings, as a tenant,
is not possible. To leave the landlord free of contractual obligation as regards these
matters, and subject only to administrative or political pressure, is, in my opinion,
inconsistent totally with the nature of this relationship. The subject matter of the
lease (high-rise blocks) and the relationship created by the tenancy demands, of its
nature, some contractual obligation on the landlord.
This does not mean that this obliges the landlord to achieve the actual
result that the common parts are always in a state of repair. Damage done
by vandals and possibly by (the children of) the tenants themselves cannot
be prevented at all times or repaired every day. It is therefore sufficient if all
reasonable care is taken (in this case the court found that the City Council
had indeed exercised all necessary care). French lawyers would speak of an
obligation de moyens (in contrast to an obligation de résultat).
Civil law jurisdictions reach the same result by applying statutory default
provisions. These are the provisions that French, German and Dutch courts
would probably use to decide a similar case in their jurisdiction:
Art. 1719 CC: ‘A lessor is bound, by the nature of the contract, and without need
of any particular stipulation:
1° To deliver the thing leased to the lessee and, where the main dwelling of the
latter is concerned, a decent lodging. In case a residential dwelling is not fit for this
use, the lessor cannot claim the nullity of the lease or its termination in order to
evict the resident;
2° To maintain that thing in order so that it can serve the use for which it has been
let;
3° To secure to the lessee a peaceful enjoyment for the duration of the lease;
4° To secure also the permanence and quality of plantings.’
§ 536 (1) BGB: ‘If the leased property at the time of putting it at the disposal of
the lessee has a defect which removes its suitability for the contractually agreed use,
or if such a defect arises during the lease period, then the lessee is exempted for the
period when suitability is removed from paying the rent. (…)’
Art. 7:204 (2) Dutch Civil Code: ‘A defect is a quality or characteristic of the
leased property or another circumstance not attributable to the lessee, as a result of
which the leased property cannot provide the lessee the enjoyment which a lessee,
at the moment on which the lease agreement was concluded, can expect of a well
maintained property of the kind to which the lease agreement relates.’
Art. 7:206 (1) Dutch Civil Code: ‘If the lessee desires so, the lessor must cure a
defect, unless this is impossible or would require expenditures which in the given
circumstances cannot reasonably be expected to be made by the lessor.’
FURTHER READING
– Hugh Beale et al, Cases, Materials and Text on Contract Law, Ius Commune Casebooks for the
Common Law of Europe, 3rd ed., Oxford (Hart Publishing) 2019, Chapter 18–20.
– Claus-Wilhelm Canaris and Hans Christoph Grigoleit, ‘Interpretation of Contracts, in: Arthur
Hartkamp et al (eds.), Towards a European Civil Code, 4th ed. Nijmegen (Ars Aequi) 2011,
Chapter 26.
– Jacques Herbots, ‘Interpretation of Contracts,’ in: Jan M. Smits (ed.), Elgar Encyclopedia of
Comparative Law, 2nd ed., Cheltenham, UK; Northampton, MA, USA (Edward Elgar) 2012,
Chapter 35.
– Nicole Kornet, Contract Interpretation and Gap-filling: Comparative and Theoretical Perspectives,
Antwerp (Intersentia) 2006.
– Hein Kötz, European Contract Law (translated by Gill Mertens and Tony Weir), Oxford
(Oxford University Press) 2017, Chapter 6.
– Francois Terré et al, Droit civil: les obligations, 12th ed., Paris (Dalloz) 2019, Book 1, Title 1.
CHAPTER OVERVIEW
• the central role of the principle of good faith (reasonableness and fair-
ness) in civil law jurisdictions and its absence in English law;
• the legal techniques to restrict the use of unfair contract terms, in par-
ticular with a view to policing exemption clauses and unfair terms in
general conditions in consumer contracts.
Art. 1104 (1) CC: ‘Contracts must be negotiated, formed and performed in good
faith.’
§ 242 BGB: ‘The debtor is obliged to perform in such a manner as good faith
requires, regard being had to general practice.’
Art. 6:248 BW: ‘1. A contract not only has the effects agreed upon by the parties,
but also those which, according to the nature of the contract, result from statute,
usage or the requirements of reasonableness and fairness.
2. A rule binding upon the parties as a result of the contract does not apply to the
extent that, in the given circumstances, this would be unacceptable according to
criteria of reasonableness and fairness.’
Civil law courts have given these articles a wide application, sometimes going
far beyond the original intent of the legislator. Good faith plays a role in the
entire life of the contract, from the very first negotiations until the very last
part of the performance, and is seen by many civil lawyers as the highest
norm of contract law, described by some even as the ‘queen of rules’. The
importance of good faith as a ‘super-provision’ is already more clear in the
Dutch provision, but is best grasped by the PECL that declares good faith
the immediate counter principle of the freedom to contract and dictates that
each contracting party must mandatory respect it across the board:
Art. 1:102 (1) PECL: ‘Parties are free to enter into a contract and to determine
its contents, subject to the requirements of good faith and fair dealing, and the
mandatory rules established by these Principles.’
Art. 1:201 PECL: ‘(1) Each party must act in accordance with good faith and fair
dealing.
(2) The parties may not exclude or limit this duty.’
Standing opposite civil law jurisdictions and the PECL is English law that
does not recognise a general principle of good faith. In this chapter the role of
good faith will first be examined in the civil law (A), followed by an analysis
of why it is much less important in England (B).
In many civil law systems, and perhaps in most legal systems outside the common
law world, the law of obligations recognises and enforces an overriding principle
that in making and carrying out contracts parties should act in good faith. This
does not simply mean that they should not deceive each other, a principle which
any legal system must recognise; its effect is perhaps most aptly conveyed by such
metaphorical colloquialisms as ‘playing fair’, ‘coming clean’ or ‘putting one’s cards
face upwards on the table’. It is in essence a principle of fair and open dealing
(…).
(or ‘not in bad faith’), as in the case where he relies on the apparent inten-
tion of the other party to be legally bound. Objective good faith is some-
thing else, which is exactly the reason why the German Code refers to it
with the different term ‘Treu und Glauben’ and the Dutch Code with the
term ‘reasonableness and fairness’. Unlike subjective good faith, reasonable-
Norm ness and fairness is a norm for the contracting parties: it sets a standard of
conduct that requires each party to take the interests of the other party into
account. This sounds rather vague and thus immediately reveals an impor-
Open-ended tant characteristic of good faith: the norm is open-ended. This means that it
depends on the circumstances of the case how the norm is applied, giving
much discretionary power to the courts. Civil law courts have often used
the good faith provision to ‘break open’ contracts the enforcement of which
they deemed grossly unfair. They have even used the provision as a vehicle to
develop whole new fields of law, such as pre-contractual duties to inform the
other party in French law, rules on hardship (‘unforeseen circumstances’) in
German law, and control of general conditions in both French and German
law and various other jurisdictions. The legislator is never able to foresee all
situations that end up in the courts – and when it is able to, it is seldom on
time or even willing to enact a new statute. Courts can then use the good
faith provision to keep the law in sync with societal developments.
The freedom that the courts allow themselves can of course be seen as being
Danger
at odds with the constitutional separation of powers, and therefore as a threat
to legal certainty and predictability (for which there is no better word than
the German term Einzelfallgerechigkeit, justice in each individual case). In
1933, for example, the German jurist Justus Wilhelm Hedemann launched
an attack on the German § 242 BGB in a famous booklet called Die Flucht in
die Generalklauseln: eine Gefahr für Recht und Staat (‘The escape into general
clauses: a danger for law and state’). This did not prevent the German courts
from using the good faith provision whenever they felt the need for it. At
the risk of generalising too much, courts in Central and Eastern Europe are
more reluctant to lead the way in developing private law through open-ended
norms, perhaps caused by the socialist heritage of a strong administration
and legislator.
Until now nothing has been said about the actual application of good faith.
Three functions
The best way to describe the substantive law is by identifying the three func-
tions that good faith has in civil law jurisdictions: the supplementing func-
tion, the interpretative function and the restrictive function.
‘The party who has information which is of decisive importance for the consent of
the other, must inform the other of it where the latter legitimately does not know
the information or relies on his fellow contracting party.’
Second, parties are also bound by the principle of good faith when they inter-
Interpretation
pret their contract (fonction interprétative, Auslegung nach Treu und Glauben).
Interpretation is not something that only the courts engage in: it is primar-
ily a duty of the parties to give a meaning to the contractual terms that fit
their common goal. The rule that interpretation must be line with how rea-
sonable parties would construe the contract, as was discussed in Chapter
7, also follows from the standard of good faith that parties are obliged to
apply towards each other. If an insurance contract covers theft in case of ‘ille-
gitimate entry’ into the house of the insured, and a thief enters the house by
claiming that he is a telephone repairman, the insurer cannot claim that the
thief was let into the house by the insured and therefore does not have to pay.
The restrictive function of good faith can also come into play in cases other
Hardship
than abuse of rights. The best-known example concerns the doctrine of unfore-
seen circumstances or hardship (imprévision, Wegfall der Geschäftsgrundlage,
onvoorziene omstandigheden), discussed in more detail in Chapter 11. Each
contract is based on the assumption of the contracting parties that the cir-
cumstances under which the contract is concluded will not change too much.
If I buy a quantity of crude oil, I assume that the price at which I can resell
it remains within certain margins. I also expect that transport of the oil will
remain possible and will not be hindered by an unexpected outbreak of war
in the Middle East. However, even if these expectations are not met, it follows
from the principle of binding force of contract that I am still bound to the con-
tract. Only in highly exceptional circumstances do some jurisdictions allow
a party to escape from the contract in cases where its performance would be
excessively onerous because of an unforeseen and unforeseeable change of cir-
cumstances. Although these legal systems now have a statutory basis for this
(see e.g. Art. 1195 CC, § 313 BGB and Art. 6:258 BW), the underlying moti-
vation is again the good faith principle: in case of a truly fundamental change
of circumstances, a reasonable party cannot hold the other to the concluded
contract.
Despite the fact that the doctrine of unforeseen circumstances is not accepted
as such in English contract law (see further Chapter 11), Art. 6:111 PECL
(1) A party is bound to fulfill its obligations even if performance has become more
onerous, whether because the cost of performance has increased or because the
value of the performance it receives has diminished.
(2) If, however, performance of the contract becomes excessively onerous because
of a change of circumstances, the parties are bound to enter into negotiations with
a view to adapting the contract or terminating it, provided that:
(a) the change of circumstances occurred after the time of conclusion of the
contract,
(b) the possibility of a change of circumstances was not one which could
reasonably have been taken into account at the time of conclusion of the
contract, and
(c) the risk of the change of circumstances is not one which, according to the
contract, the party affected should be required to bear.
(3) If the parties fail to reach agreement within a reasonable period, the court may:
(a) end the contract at a date and on terms to be determined by the court; or
(b) adapt the contract in order to distribute between the parties in a just
and equitable manner the losses and gains resulting from the change of
circumstances.
In either case, the court may award damages for the loss suffered through a party
refusing to negotiate or breaking off negotiations contrary to good faith and fair
dealing.
party to the negotiations is entitled to pursue his (or her) own interest, so long
as he avoids making misrepresentations. A duty to negotiate in good faith is as
unworkable in practice as it is inherently inconsistent with the position of the
negotiating parties. (…)
So why does English law not recognise a general principle of good faith? The
usual explanation given is that English law is more morally insensitive than
civil law jurisdictions. English law is designed in the interests of economic
efficiency, while the civil law ranks solidarity higher. This purportedly makes
English law a better law for commercial parties. The comparative lawyer Kahn-
Freund famously said: ‘It certainly seems that the English law of contract was
designed for a nation of shopkeepers. If that be so, the common lawyer might
retort, then the French system was made for a race of peasants.’ This is reiter-
ated in the following quote of the English commercial lawyer Roy Goode:
The predictability of the legal outcome of a case is more important than absolute
justice. It is necessary in a commercial setting that businessmen at least should
know where they stand. (…) The last thing that we want to do is to drive business
away by vague concepts of fairness which make judicial decisions unpredictable,
and if that means that the outcome of disputes is sometimes hard on a party we
regard that as an acceptable price to pay in the interest of the great majority of
business litigants.
BOX 8.1
Much can be said against these arguments. It is, for example, not clear at
all that a liberal ethic is best for a well-functioning economy: trust and co-
operation may be of equal importance. The legal certainty argument can also
be turned upside down: the good faith principle can also provide security
against opportunism and unfair dealing, making a party more willing to enter
into a contract with someone it does not know. Finally, it is not true that good
faith must be applied regardless of context, but rather it equips courts with an
instrument to respond to the different circumstances of the case.
The absence of a general principle of good faith does not mean that good
faith plays no role at all in English law. There are three different ways through
which good faith enters English contract law.
First, English law adopts several doctrines that may not be called ‘good faith’,
Functional
but that comparative lawyers are eager to recognise as fulfilling a similar func-
equivalents tion as in the civil law. The interpretation of a contract in line with how rea-
sonable parties would understand it is one example. Another example is gap
filling through terms implied in fact (see Chapter 7).
BOX 8.2
fiduciary relationships exist between solicitor and client, doctor and patient
and principal and agent (as for example in case of financial intermediaries).
In each of these cases the fiduciary owes a duty to disclose important infor-
mation to the other party.
faith in consumer contracts. The Consumer Rights Act 2015 (which con-
tains the UK implementation of the directive) closely follows the directive
by prescribing that contractual terms, which ‘contrary to the requirement of
good faith’ cause a significant imbalance in the contract to the detriment of
the consumer, are not binding on the consumer, regardless of whether they
were individually negotiated or not. It is understandable that the English
courts have had difficulties in applying this provision which, in the words of
the House of Lords in Director General of Fair Trading v First National Bank
(2001), imports the ‘notion of fair and open dealing’ into English law. This
explains why the UK Competition and Markets Authority published a 140-
page document containing guidance on how to apply the unfair terms provi-
sions of the CRA 2015.
BOX 8.3
This explains why a party only very rarely argues that the entire contract
is unfair. It is much more frequent that someone seeks to invalidate a spe-
cific clause in the contract that is disadvantageous to him. If products are
delivered too late or not at all, the buyer may counter that his contract con-
Exemption tains a clause that limits or excludes the possibility to claim performance or
clauses damages. These so-called limitation or exemption clauses are typically found
in general conditions that the buyer probably did not read before entering
into the contract – and if he had, he would not have been able to change their
contents anyway. This buyer has no interest in the invalidation of the contract
as a whole because this would mean that he would have to return the goods
he was interested in. He only wants to be able to set aside the specific clause,
and subsequently enforce its rights under the contract. The question is to
what extent such a clause can indeed be invalidated. This section therefore
examines what techniques courts and legislators use to police unfair contract
terms. A distinction is made between the general doctrines of private law that
courts have available (A) and the specific controls that legislators have put in
place in the last few decades to police unfair contract terms (B).
A. General controls
General conditions are used in almost any consumer contract and are also
Three problems
very common in commercial transactions. It is not difficult to see why this
standard form contracting is so popular. It saves parties from having to nego-
tiate and draft contract conditions for every new contract. This lowers the
transaction costs, which is not only in the interest of the party using the
general conditions (the ‘user’), but also of the other party, who is subse-
quently able to (for example) buy the product or service at a lower price.
However, the use of general conditions is not without problems. There are
three problems in particular. First, it is not self-evident how a set of rules
drafted by one party can become part of an individual contract with some-
body else who was not involved in the drafting (the incorporation problem).
Second, interpretation of standard terms in line with the parties’ intentions is
difficult if one of the parties was not involved in the drafting of the terms. This
raises the question of how to interpret general conditions (the interpretation
problem). Third, the conditions may be unbalanced and unfairly favour the
party who drafted them (the fairness problem). The latter problem is par-
ticularly cumbersome in B2C-transactions as the standard contracts in those
cases are typically not negotiable and tend to be a take-it-or-leave-it type of
affair: the only alternative to accepting the contract, with all the conditions
attached to it, is to reject it. To speak of a contract of adhesion well reflects this
phenomenon.
A court can tackle the incorporation problem by holding that the general con-
Incorporation
ditions did not become part of the contract, and that the ensuing gap simply
has to be filled with the statutory and judicial default rules. This technique
offers a solution in cases where the other party is simply not aware of the fact
that general conditions are used. This is easy to establish if the user did not
say anything about this at the time of contracting. If Anna gets lost on her
way from Bucharest to Brasov, checks into a hotel, and finds a notice in the
room that the hotel accepts no liability for lost property, this is not a clause
on which the hotel can rely. If Anna finds out the next morning that her Furla
bag has disappeared, the court can easily establish that the exemption clause
did not become part of the contract, which was made at the reception desk
and not at any later stage. But also in less obvious cases courts have often been
willing to help a weaker party by holding that the general conditions did not
become part of the contract in cases where the reference to the general condi-
tions is obscure, e.g. is hidden on the back of a form, or is only in small print.
General contract law can also assist in addressing the interpretation and fair-
ness problems. As it is typical for general conditions to be unilaterally drafted
by one party, the court can choose to interpret the conditions to the detri-
Interpretation
ment of the drafter (contra proferentem, now laid down in Art. 5 (2) of the
Directive on Unfair Contract Terms, as seen in Chapter 7). If a car (that
normally has space for five persons) carries six people and is involved in an
accident, the insurance company cannot rely on the clause that it need not
pay out in case the car carries an ‘excessive load’. An English court interpreted
the term ‘load’ narrowly, only covering goods and not people (Houghton v
Trafalgar Insurance Co, 1954). And if an exemption clause unfairly benefits
Fairness the user, it could – under the restrictive function of good faith – be contrary
to reasonableness and fairness to invoke the clause. Art. 8:109 PECL reflects
this: ‘Remedies for non-performance may be excluded or restricted unless it
would be contrary to good faith and fair dealing to invoke the exclusion or
restriction.’
B. Specific controls
In the 1970s – when the use of general conditions in B2C transactions
boomed as a result of increasing consumption – it became clear that the
above-mentioned general controls were not sufficient to protect consum-
ers. This led in many jurisdictions to the introduction of specific leg-
islation to address the three identified problems of general conditions.
Thus, Germany introduced its Act on General Conditions (AGBG)
in 1976 (its provisions became part of the BGB in 2002), the UK its
Unfair Contract Terms Act (UCTA) in 1977 and Consumer Rights Act
in 2015, and France its Act on the Protection and Information of the
Consumer of Products and Services (‘Loi Scrivener’) in 1978 (now part
of the Consumer Code). The exact scope of these statutes differs from
one country to another: while the UCTA – the title which is a bit of a
misnomer – only applies to exemption clauses (in B2B and C2C con-
tracts and also if individually negotiated) and the CRA to consumer
contracts, the French statute covers any contractual clause, but is also
limited to consumer contracts. The German statute has the widest scope
of application as it deals with any possibly unfair term in both B2B- and
B2C-contracts.
Standard business terms only become a part of a contract if the user, when entering
into the contract,
1. refers the other party to the contract to them explicitly or, where explicit
reference, due to the way in which the contract is entered into, is possible only with
disproportionate difficulty, by posting a clearly visible notice at the place where the
contract is entered into, and
2. gives the other party to the contract, in an acceptable manner, which also takes
into reasonable account any physical handicap of the other party to the contract
that is discernible to the user, the opportunity to take notice of their contents,
and if the other party to the contract agrees to their applying.
This fits in with the English judicial approach of ‘reasonable notice’. English
courts require the user of general conditions to take reasonable steps to bring
them to the notice of the recipient. What is reasonable depends on the con-
tents of the terms: the more onerous or unusual they are, the greater the
Red hand rule degree of notice that is required. Lord Denning’s ‘red hand rule’, which he
defined in Spurling Ltd v Bradshaw (1956), states:
the more unreasonable a clause is, the greater the notice which must be given of it.
Some clauses which I have seen would need to be printed in red ink on the face of
the document with a red hand pointing to it before the notice could be held to be
sufficient.
g overnment committee led the French Cour de Cassation in its famous Minit
France decision of 1991 to change the nature of the protection: in a rare case
of French judicial activism, the highest court allowed the lower courts to
declare unfair terms inapplicable out of their own motion. This is now also
codified in Art. 1171 CC.
In Germany the possibility of the court striking down an unfair term was
already accepted in the 1976 Act. § 307 (1) BGB states:
It is not clear from this provision when exactly there is an ‘undue’ disadvan-
Grey and black
tage. This is why §§ 308 and 309 BGB provide two lists of unfair terms that
list can be relied upon by consumers. § 308 – the so-called ‘grey list’ – lists terms
that are not binding if they contain disproportionate elements. Whether this
is the case or not still has to be decided upon by the court in an evaluation
(‘Wertung’) of the circumstances of the case. § 309 – the ‘black list’ – lists
terms that are considered not binding under any circumstances. For example,
a contract clause is not binding if it excludes or limits the liability for damage
from injury to life, body or health due to negligent breach by the user, or
liability for other damage arising from a grossly negligent breach by the user’
(§ 309, no. 7 BGB). This technique of using grey and black lists was taken
over by both the French (Arts. R 212-1 and R 212-2 Consumer Code) and
the Dutch legislator (Arts. 6:236 and 6:237 BW).
The UK Unfair Contract Terms Act 1977 gives courts wide powers to
Unfair Contract
control clauses that exclude or limit liability. Its exact scope of application
Terms Act is complicated, but the statute essentially distinguishes between exemp-
tion clauses that are ineffective as such, and clauses that are ineffective if
they do not meet the requirement of reasonableness in much the same
way as black and grey lists do. Ineffective as such are for example clauses
that limit the liability of a business for death or personal injury caused by
negligence (s. 2 (1)). Subject to the test of reasonableness are, for example,
clauses that exclude or limit liability for non-performance or for perfor-
mance which is substantially different from what was agreed upon, unless
it is reasonable to do so (s. 3). Since the entry into force of the Consumer
Rights Act 2015, the UCTA no longer applies to consumer contracts. S.
61-76 CRA 2015 now provide the relevant rules for unfair terms used in
these contracts.
Art. 3: 1. ‘A contractual term which has not been individually negotiated shall
be regarded as unfair if, contrary to the requirement of good faith, it causes a
significant imbalance in the parties’ rights and obligations arising under the
contract, to the detriment of the consumer.’ (…)
3. ‘The Annex shall contain an indicative and non-exhaustive list of the terms
which may be regarded as unfair.’
Art. 4: ‘1. (…) the unfairness of a contractual term shall be assessed, taking into
account the nature of the goods or services for which the contract was concluded
and by referring, at the time of conclusion of the contract, to all the circumstances
attending the conclusion of the contract and to all the other terms of the contract
or of another contract on which it is dependent.
2. Assessment of the unfair nature of the terms shall relate neither to the definition
of the main subject matter of the contract nor to the adequacy of the price and
remuneration, on the one hand, as against the services or goods supplies in
exchange, on the other, in so far as these terms are in plain intelligible language.’
Art. 6 (1): ‘Member States shall lay down that unfair terms used in a contract
concluded with a consumer by a seller or supplier shall, as provided for under their
national law, not be binding on the consumer and that the contract shall continue
to bind the parties upon those terms if it is capable of continuing in existence
without the unfair terms.’
Inspired by the German example, the Annex to the directive contains a ‘grey’
list of 17 clauses ‘which may be regarded as unfair’ (see Art. 3 (3) of the
directive). It must be noted that the directive only offers minimum harmoni-
sation: Member States are allowed to grant consumers a higher level of pro-
tection if they deem this fit. This explains why the national implementations
of the directive widely differ. Some Member States (such as Germany, the
Netherlands and the Nordic countries) did not have to change much in their
pre-existing national law, while France was among the countries that had to
adopt a grey list of unfair terms. The UK implemented the directive in the
Consumer Rights Act 2015. Although largely based on European rules, this
Act is UK domestic law and therefore continues to apply after Brexit.
It has already been mentioned that judicial review may not be the most effec-
tive means of policing unfair terms. Consumers often lack the time, money
and energy to go to court over the relatively small amount of money involved
in the average consumer transaction. The same is true for a smaller company
that is confronted with a counterpart with more bargaining power. The
adverse effect of this is that companies may be inclined to continue to use
their onerous clauses, capitalising on the incapacity or unwillingness of the
weaker party to go to court. This explains why Art. 7 of Directive 93/13
obliges Member States to ensure the existence of ‘adequate and effective
means’ to prevent the continued use of unfair terms. As a result, Member
States have introduced various ‘public reviews’ that make the control of
unfair terms not dependent on an individual party taking action. Such public
reviews are for example exercised by the Commission on abusive clauses in
France (see above), the Competition and Markets Authority in the UK, the
Autoriteit Consument en Markt (ACM) in the Netherlands and by a Consumer
Ombudsman in Nordic countries. Such public bodies are usually allowed to
obtain the assurance of a company that it will no longer make use of unfair
terms, and impose fines or even initiate criminal proceedings if they continue
their unfair trade practices.
Relevant factors for the scope of application of specific controls (consumer and non-consumer;
general conditions and negotiated terms; exemption clauses and other terms; B2B and B2C)
Reasonable notice
‘Red hand’ rule
Black and grey lists
EU directive on unfair contract terms
Public review
Collective action
FURTHER READING
– Hugh Beale et al, Cases, Materials and Text on Contract Law, Ius Commune Casebooks for the
Common Law of Europe, 3rd ed., Oxford (Hart Publishing) 2019, Chapter 21.
– Roger Brownsword, Contract Law: Themes for the Twenty First Century, 2000, Chapter 5.
– M.P. Ellinghaus, ‘An Australian Contract Law?’, Journal of Contract Law 1 (1989), 13 ff.
– Roy Goode, ‘The Concept of Good Faith in English Law,’ in: Saggi, Conferenze e Seminari,
1992.
– Martijn W. Hesselink, Towards a European Civil Code, 4th ed. Nijmegen (Ars Aequi) 2011,
Chapter 27.
– Otto Kahn-Freund, Claude Lévy and Bernard Rudden, A Source-book on French Law, 1979.
– Hein Kötz, ‘Towards a European Civil Code: The Duty of Good Faith’, in: Peter Cane and Jane
Stapleton (eds.), The Law of Obligations: Essays in Celebration of John Fleming, Oxford 1998,
243 ff.
– Hans-W. Micklitz, Jules Stuyck and Evelyne Terryn (eds.), Cases, Materials and Text on Consumer
Law, Ius Commune Casebooks for the Common Law of Europe, Oxford (Hart Publishing) 2010.
– UK Competition & Markets Authority, Unfair Contract Terms Guidance, 31 July 2015, CMA
37.
– Thomas Wilhelmsson, Towards a European Civil Code, 4th ed. Nijmegen (Ars Aequi) 2011,
Chapter 25.
– Reinhard Zimmermann and Simon Whittaker (eds.), Good Faith in European Contract Law,
Cambridge (Cambridge University Press) 2000.
Vitiating factors
Once it has been established that the contract is formed through offer and
acceptance, the parties agree on their obligations and it is clear what the con-
tents of the contract are, the contract may still not be binding. The law rec-
ognises two factors that vitiate (invalidate) the consent of the parties. These
vitiating factors are:
1. Factors that made a party form its intention in the wrong way. If someone
is threatened to conclude a contract or mistakenly believes that it buys a
valuable painting while it does not, this could be a reason for invalidation
of the contract. These defects of consent are examined in Chapter 9,
together with the English doctrine of misrepresentation;
2. Factors that make a contract prohibited because their formation or per-
formance is against the law or constitutes a violation of public policy or
good morals. These prohibited contracts are discussed in Chapter 10.
CHAPTER OVERVIEW
law discusses under the headings of defects of consent and (in English law)
misrepresentation.
The civil law usually approaches these questions from the perspective of
Civil law
the party in error. If the intention to be bound is the most essential element
in the formation of a contract, then his intention must be properly formed.
In cases where there is a ‘defect’ in the intention – because it is based on a
wrong assumption – this must affect the validity of the contract. A party must
therefore be able to invalidate the contract in cases where the defect is serious
enough. Civil law countries traditionally accept three defects of consent (vices
du consentement, Willensmängel, wilsgebreken): mistake, fraud and threat. Civil
codes usually group these three grounds for avoidance together in one section
(see for example Arts. 1130 ff. Code Civil and §§ 119 ff. BGB; see however
Arts. 3:44 and 6:228 Dutch BW). In addition to these three grounds, several
jurisdictions also allow avoidance of the contract for undue influence.
The starting point of English law is different. It does not begin with the
English law
(defective) intention of the party in error, but from the party who caused
the error. This party may have made false statements or – exceptionally –
remained silent while it ought to have spoken. English law therefore requires
a so-called misrepresentation in order for the contract to be avoided by the
innocent party. It was only in the nineteenth century that, under continen-
tal influence, English law also carved out a place for avoidance on the basis
of mistake not caused by a misrepresentation (a so-called self-induced mis-
apprehension), but the scope of this possibility has remained very limited.
As the English lawyer John Cartwright puts it: ‘English law rarely allows
a remedy for mistake’ (practically speaking only the ‘common mistake’,
explained below, is accepted). The underlying policy reason behind this dif-
ferent approach is – as we saw before – that English law puts great empha-
sis on protecting the reasonable reliance of the other party who believes an
agreement did come into being. Avoidance for mistake would frustrate this
reliance.
We will now look at these grounds for avoidance in more detail. This chapter
first examines mistake (A), fraud (B), threat (C) and undue influence (D),
and then continues to study misrepresentation under English law (E).
A. Mistake
Rules on the avoidance of a contract for mistake (erreur, Irrtum, dwaling) can
be found in any civil code and soft law instrument on contract law. Some of
these provisions are reproduced below.
Art. 1130 (1) CC: ‘Mistake, fraud and duress vitiate the consent where they are of
such a nature that, without them, one of the parties would not have contracted or
would have contracted on substantially different terms.
§ 119 BGB: ‘(1) A person who, when making a declaration of intent, was mistaken
about its contents or had no intention whatsoever of making a declaration with
this content, may avoid the declaration if it is to be assumed that he would not have
made the declaration with knowledge of the factual position and with a sensible
understanding of the case.
(2) A mistake about such characteristics of a person or a thing as are customarily
regarded as essential is also regarded as a mistake about the content of the
declaration.’
§ 122 BGB: ‘(1) If a declaration of intent is (…) avoided under §§ 119 and 120,
the person declaring must, if the declaration was to be made to another person,
pay damages to this person, or failing this to any third party, for the damage that
the other or the third party suffers as a result of his relying on the validity of the
declaration; but not in excess of the total amount of the interest which the other or
the third party has in the validity of the declaration.
(2) A duty to pay damages does not arise if the injured person knew the reason
for the voidness or the voidability or did not know it as a result of his negligence
(ought to have known it).’
Art. 6:228 BW: ‘1. A contract which has been entered into under the influence
of a mistake and which would not have been concluded had there been a correct
assessment of the facts, is avoidable:
a. if the mistake is caused by information given by the other party, unless this
party could assume that the contract would have been concluded even without
this information;
b. if the other party, in view of what it knew or ought to have known about the
mistake, should have informed the mistaken party;
c. if the other party, at the moment of concluding the contract, has based itself
on the same incorrect assumption as the mistaken party, unless the other party,
even if there had been a correct assessment of the facts, would not have had
reason to understand that the mistaken party would therefore be prevented
from entering into the contract.
2. The avoidance cannot be based on a mistake as to an exclusively future
fact, or on a mistake for which, given the nature of the contract, common
opinion or the circumstances of the case, the mistaken party should remain
accountable.’
Art. 4:103 PECL: ‘(1) A party may avoid a contract for mistake of fact or law
existing when the contract was concluded if:
(a) (i) the mistake was caused by information given by the other party; or
(ii) the other party knew or ought to have known of the mistake and it was
contrary to good faith and fair dealing to leave the mistaken party in error; or
(iii) the other party made the same mistake,
and
(b) the other party knew or ought to have known that the mistaken party, had
it known the truth, would not have entered the contract or would have done so
only on fundamentally different terms.
(2) However a party may not avoid the contract if:
(a) in the circumstances its mistake was inexcusable, or
(b) the risk of the mistake was assumed, or in the circumstances should be
borne, by it.’
The first requirement is that there must be a contract that can be avoided.
Contract
This is not as self-evident as it seems. It transpired in Chapter 4 that a mistake
sometimes prevents a meeting of the minds, namely if parties are the victim
of a misunderstanding as to what the terms of the contract actually mean.
There is, for example, a lack of consent (dissensus, sometimes also referred
to as a mutual mistake) if parties made a contract, but it is unclear who is the
buyer and who is the seller. Another example is if parties agree that goods
will be shipped on the vessel called Peerless, but each party refers to a dif-
ferent ship both named Peerless. Such a misunderstanding can prevent the
contract from coming into being at all, unlike the type of cases discussed here
in which a contract does exist, but can be invalidated by the party in error.
example be to err about the fact that the bought painting used to hang in the
artist’s bedroom, a circumstance that is not likely to be of any relevance.
Third, the contract would not have been concluded under the same condi-
Causal link
tions on a correct assessment of the facts. In other words: there must be a
causal link between the mistake and the conclusion of the contract. So a
party paying €70,000 for a copy of Grotius’ On the Law of War and Peace pub-
lished in 1625 would surely not have paid this price if it had known that it was
not a first edition, but only a reprint from the nineteenth century.
Fourth, it must be clear to the other party that the mistaken party, had it
known the truth, would not have entered into the contract (or at least not
Apparent on the same terms). The other party need not know about the mistake itself,
importance but it must know, or ought to have known, that the mistaken party regarded
a certain quality as vital. If I buy a used car and the seller tells me that the
vehicle is still in good shape, I cannot avoid the contract on the basis of a
mistake if I bought the car with the intended purpose of street racing and
in the process of Tokyo-drifting the engine blows up. I should have told the
seller that I wanted to use the car for this purpose, in which case he may have
told me that the car was not fit for such extreme use. And if I do not tell my
landlord that I wish to use the leased premises to start a restaurant, I cannot
complain that she did not tell me that the property can only be used for resi-
dential purposes. This is simply a matter of protecting reasonable reliance: if
the other party is unaware of my wishes, it should not be confronted with a
claim for avoidance for mistake.
Fifth, the mistake must fall under one of three categories. These are explicitly
Situation
summed up in Art. 6:228 Dutch BW and Art. 4:103 PECL, but also aptly
reflect the law of other civil law jurisdictions.
can avoid the contract for mistake if – unknown to both of them – it turns out
that the house is under the flight path of the recently opened landing strip of
the nearby airport.
A party cannot rely on just any information. A seller may recommend her
Puffs
products as ‘unique’, ‘the best’ and ‘the cheapest’, but such sales talk does
not usually contain statements from which rights will arise. However, more
concrete statements made by the other party can become part of the con-
tract itself: if a seller says that the product is fit for a certain use (‘the crane is
allowed to drive on public roads’) or has a certain quality (a ‘gold’ ring), there
is no reason to bring in the rules on mistake (and some jurisdictions even pro-
hibit this): the buyer can simply bring a contractual remedy, such as a claim
for performance, damages or termination (see on these remedies Part 5).
In English law a false statement as discussed here does not qualify as mistake,
but may constitute a case of misrepresentation (see below, sub-section E).
Before the conclusion of a contract for the supply of goods, other assets or
services by a business to another person, the business has a duty to disclose to
the other person such information concerning the goods, other assets or services
to be supplied as the other person can reasonably expect, taking into account
the standards of quality and performance which would be normal under the
circumstances.
Although it differs from one jurisdiction to another when exactly this crite-
rion is met, it is possible to list the factors that play a role here. Art. 4:107 (3)
PECL provides an illustrative list:
In determining whether good faith and fair dealing required that a party disclose
particular information, regard should be had to all the circumstances, including:
The starting point in any jurisdiction must be that people do not have to
share the information that they have on the qualities or saleability of a good
or service. Often this information is acquired through one’s own efforts, by
When to costly research, by training or by experience and the duty to give it away
disclose would gravely weaken the incentive of people to inform themselves before
entering into a contract. A society that values initiative and education cannot
be of a different view. This explains why a buyer in principle need not tell
the seller about a likely surge in the market for a certain product, and why
an art collector can usually remain silent if he discovers a valuable painting
at a flea market. But things may be different if the knowledge of a party is the
result of chance, in particular if it would be expensive for the other party to
obtain the same information. A car dealer is supposed to give information
about the state of the cars it is selling because it would be much more costly
for the non-professional buyer to inform himself. This is true in particular
if the information relates to the safety of the car. It can be expected from a
What to
professional seller that he investigates the safety of the car (do the brakes still
disclose work?) before he sells it to an average consumer. A layperson selling a car will
have to give such information if she knows about it, as she should also spon-
taneously disclose that the house she is selling suffers from damp – unless
this is easy to discover by the buyer himself. So if construction works are
going on next to the house at the time of concluding the contract, the buyer
cannot avoid the contract for mistake because the seller did not disclose that
a new motorway was being built. In the same vein, German and French case
law firmly hold that the seller of a house must tell the prospective buyer that
there is woodworm affecting the floors unless this is clearly visible to the
buyer.
Although English law does not allow a claim for mistake for non-disclosure,
it is exceptionally possible that non-disclosure qualifies as misrepresentation
(see below, subsection E).
c. Common mistake
In case of a common (or ‘shared’) mistake, both parties have the same mis-
apprehension of reality. It may be that seller and buyer mistakenly believe
the painting to be by Mondrian, or that landlord and tenant are wrong in
thinking that the apartment is not subject to rent control. The law also allows
the parties to avoid such a contract for mistake. This is explicitly laid down
in Art. 6:228 (1) sub c Dutch BW, but it is also true in other jurisdictions.
Practically speaking, common mistake is also the only type of mistake that is
recognised in English law.
The interesting thing about common mistake is that both parties are allowed
to avoid the contract. This calls for an assessment of who should bear the
risk of the wrong assumption. In the German Matchfixing case (1975) a foot-
ball club in the Bundesliga had transferred a player to a club in the lower
Regionalliga. Both parties were unaware of the fact that the player had accepted
a bribe when he played a match for the selling club against Arminia Bielefeld.
When the player confessed and was banned by the national German Football
Association, the buying club avoided the transfer agreement and claimed
back the transfer money. The court reasoned entirely on the basis of who
should bear the risk of the player no longer being allowed to participate in the
German competition. The court held that this risk fell on the selling club as
this was where the player worked at the time of the bribe. The buyer could
therefore invalidate the transfer and claim back the transfer fee.
The sixth, and the final common requirement to establish mistake, is that
the mistake must not come at the risk of the mistaken party. A seller may
Risk have explicitly stipulated that he is not liable for defects in the goods: this
will prevent the mistaken buyer from avoiding the contract (at least in so
far as the exemption clause is upheld by the court). But the mistake can also
come at a party’s risk because it is inexcusable. If it is the mistaken party’s
own fault that its expectations were not met, it has no relief. Whether or not
this is the case, again depends greatly on what can be expected from a party.
Should the seller of a painting first have investigated himself what its true
provenance was before selling it far below the market value? And should a
Duty to buyer of a house bring in an expert to discover any hidden defects such as
investigate a rotten floor? It is clear that the answer to these questions also depends on
whether the other party has a duty to disclose. If the seller must disclose
information about the characteristics of the good, this effectively means that
the buyer need not investigate. Whether a duty to investigate exists depends
on the relative expertise and experience of the parties, as well as on the costs
of the investigation.
The end result of this extensive survey of the requirements for a legally rel-
evant mistake must be that, although mistake has a prominent place in the
civil codes, its practical significance is fairly limited. Not only will a statement
about the quality of a good or a person often give rise to a claim for non-
performance – which is much easier to prove than mistake –, but the mistake
itself will have to meet strict requirements in order for the avoidance of the
contract to be successful.
B. Fraud
Mistake offers relief to a party who is under a misapprehension that is self-
induced or caused by the other party’s statement or silence. It does not
matter whether the other party knew it was not telling the truth. But some-
times the other party deliberately deceives its counterpart. A can sell a car to
B after having turned back the mileage on the car’s odometer from 200,000
km to 20,000 km. And C can sell a house to D after having repainted the walls
to conceal a rotten area. The law qualifies such wilful deception, regardless
of whether it comes in the form of an explicit lie or unpermitted silence,
as fraud (sometimes also called deceit). It regards such trickery as so much
against what is required from a contracting party that it adopts special rules
on this defect of consent. All civil codes and international instruments there-
fore make clear that fraud (dol, arglistige Täuschung, bedrog) is a ground for
avoidance of the contract or other juridical act:
Art. 1137 CC: ‘Fraud is an act of a party in obtaining the consent of the other by
scheming or lies.
The intentional concealment by one party of information, where he knows its
decisive character for the other party, is also fraud.’
§ 123 (1) BGB: ‘Whoever has been induced to make a declaration of will by fraud
or unlawfully by threats may rescind the declaration.’
Art. 3:44 BW: ‘1. A juridical act may be annulled when it has been entered into as
a result of threat, fraud or abuse of circumstances.
(…)
3. Fraud occurs when someone induces another person to execute a certain
juridical act by deliberately making an incorrect statement, by deliberately
concealing a fact that had to be disclosed, or by another artifice. Endorsements in
general terms, even if they are untrue, do not as such constitute fraud.’
Art. 4:107 PECL: ‘(1) A party may avoid a contract when it has been led to
conclude it by the other party’s fraudulent representation, whether by words or
conduct, or fraudulent non-disclosure of any information which in accordance
with good faith and fair dealing it should have disclosed.
(2) A party’s representation or non-disclosure is fraudulent if it was intended to
deceive.’
In practice a party who believes itself to be the victim of fraud will base its
Damages
claim on both mistake and fraud. If the victim can indeed prove that the
other party had the intention to deceive, this allows not only the avoidance of
the contract, but also a claim for damages (in tort, or based on some special
provision such as Art. 4:117 PECL). This is particularly useful if the deceived
party has incurred costs in reliance on the validity of the contract. If the seller
clocked the odometer to deceive the buyer about the age of the car and the
car breaks down shortly after delivery, the buyer can not only avoid the con-
tract (and therefore claim back the contract price), but also sue the seller for
the reasonable costs of a rental car. The situations that qualify as fraud in civil
law systems are likely to fall under fraudulent misrepresentation in English
law, but only if based on a party’s statement: keeping silent usually will not
qualify as misrepresentation (see below, subsection E).
C. Threat
A third reason for avoidance of a contract is threat. If Bonnie puts a gun to
Clyde’s head while telling him to sign a document, every jurisdiction would
allow Clyde to invalidate the contract at a later stage. The threat need not be
physical: if my boss increases my salary after I tell her that I might tell her
husband about her affair with the janitor, she can avoid my new employment
contract. Here the law intervenes to ensure that only truly, freely exercised
autonomy is a source of binding obligations. Threat (violence, widerrechtliche
Drohung, bedreiging) is not only recognised as a ground for avoidance of a
contract in English law (where it is often called duress), but is also accepted
as a defect of consent in civil codes and international instruments. The defect
lies not so much in a misapprehension of the correct situation, but in the fact
that a party concludes a contract out of fear of harm to itself, its property, its
honour, or its family members.
Art. 1140 CC: ‘There is duress if one party contracts under the influence of a
constraint which makes him fear that his person or his wealth, or those of his near
relatives, might be exposed to considerable harm.’
Art. 3:44 (2) BW: ‘Threat occurs when someone induces another person to
execute a certain juridical act by unlawfully threatening him or a third party
with harm to his person or property. The threat must be of such a nature that a
reasonable person would be influenced by it.’
Art. 4:108 PECL: ‘A party may avoid a contract when it has been led to conclude
it by the other party’s imminent and serious threat of an act:
(a) which is wrongful in itself, or
There is a thin line between the illegitimate threat that allows a party to avoid
the contract and claim damages on the one hand, and legally accepted pres-
sure or acting in line with social and economic circumstances on the other.
In times of food shortage a seller is undoubtedly allowed to ask a higher price
than is normal. It is also perfectly legitimate if I threaten my car dealer that I
will go to his competitor if he does not lower the price of the car I am inter-
ested in buying. Conversely, it is always unlawful to threaten to do something
that is against the law, such as to threaten with physical violence or theft. But
things can be more difficult. Is it unlawful harassment if I tell my debtor, long
overdue with her payment, that if she does not accept a low price on a new
contract, I will file for her bankruptcy? And what if I happen to know about
her criminal past or that of her wife: can I threaten to report this to the police
in order to get a more favourable deal? Although the acts I threaten with
are not unlawful in themselves, the law does usually allow avoidance of the
contract in such cases. The reason for this is that the threat is unrelated to the
obligation of the other party. One is allowed to file for someone’s bankruptcy
or to report a crime to the police, but only to ensure a fair insolvency or
criminal prosecution, not to achieve a low price on a contract.
D. Undue influence
Next to the three traditional defects of consent mistake, fraud and threat,
some jurisdictions have in the course of the last century supplemented the
judge’s toolbox with a fourth ground for avoidance of the contract. This was
motivated by the wish to give relief to a vulnerable party that, to its great eco-
nomic disadvantage, is exploited by somebody else. It was seen in Chapter
8 that a disparity in the value of the mutual performances is in itself never
a reason for invalidity of the contract, but this fourth ground for avoidance
allows a party to escape the contract if an excessive disparity is caused by
undue influence. The exact requirements and names differ from one jurisdic-
tion to another. While French law classifies exploitation of a party’s weakness
as a special case of threat (Art. 1143 CC), German law introduced a separate
provision on usury (Wucher) in § 138 (2) BGB. This provision comes close
to the European model provided by the PECL:
§ 138 BGB: ‘(1) A juridical act which violates good morals is void.
(2) In particular, a juridical act is void by which a person, by exploiting the
predicament, inexperience, lack of sound judgement or considerable weakness
of will of another, causes himself or a third party, in exchange for an act of
Art. 4:109 PECL: ‘(1) A party may avoid a contract if, at the time of the
conclusion of the contract:
(a) it was dependent on or had a relationship of trust with the other party,
was in economic distress or had urgent needs, was improvident, ignorant,
inexperienced or lacking in bargaining skill, and
(b) the other party knew or ought to have known of this and, given the
circumstances and purpose of the contract, took advantage of the first party’s
situation in a way which was grossly unfair or took an excessive benefit.
(2) Upon the request of the party entitled to avoidance, a court may if it is
appropriate adapt the contract in order to bring it into accordance with what
might have been agreed had the requirements of good faith and fair dealing been
followed.
(3) A court may similarly adapt the contract upon the request of a party receiving
notice of avoidance for excessive benefit or unfair advantage, provided that this
party informs the party who gave the notice promptly after receiving it and before
that party has acted in reliance on it.’
Both provisions require not only the deliberate exploitation of the vulner-
Double test
able position of one party, but also an excessive advantage resulting from this
for the other. The tests for procedural and substantive fairness (see Chapter
1) are thus combined. If I fancy the house next to mine and do the weekly
shopping for the aged and physically disabled couple living in it because they
have no one else to turn to, this is no doubt noble behaviour on my part.
However, if my neighbour’s husband dies after a marriage of 60 years and
I tell his grieving and lonely widow that I am only willing to continue the
shopping if she moves to a nearby flat and sells her house to me far below the
market value, she can avoid the contract (or claim its adaptation under Art.
4:109 (3) PECL). My conduct would not qualify as mistake, fraud or threat,
but surely it is wrongful exploitation. The same is true if you are involved in
a car accident while in Sardinia and your friend is seriously injured. If, in the
absence of any other means of transport, the only way to get to a good hospi-
tal is with the local taxi, but the driver charges you ten times as much as the
normal amount, your vulnerable position allows the taxi driver to obtain an
excessive benefit. You will almost certainly accept the price, but are allowed
to invalidate the contract in a later stage.
only a manifest disadvantage, but also that the parties have been in a special
relationship of trust (the same type of fiduciary relationship we encountered
before in Chapter 8). This should have allowed them to rely on the other
party’s expertise and advice. Examples are the relationships between child
and parent, patient and doctor, client and lawyer and husband and wife, but a
relationship of trust can also simply follow from the facts of the case. If such
trust is abused, it is open to the court to avoid the contract. An illustrative
case is Lloyd’s Bank Ltd v Bundy (1975). Bundy and his son were both clients
of Lloyd’s Bank. When the son ran into financial difficulties, he asked the
bank for a loan. The bank agreed to this on the condition that the father, who
was a small farmer, would put up his farm for security. The bank employee
did not say anything to the father about the financial problems of the son
and did not give him the opportunity to ask for independent advice. The
court found not only a manifestly disadvantageous transaction for the father,
but also a relationship of trust (on the facts of the case): the father had been
a client of the bank for a long time and could have expected to have been
duly informed. Lord Denning went even further and proposed to introduce a
general principle of English law of inequality of bargaining power. The courts
did not accept this proposal, but in his formulation we can clearly see the
same elements coming back as were encountered in the civil law approach:
The English law gives relief to one who, without independent advice, enters into
a contract on terms which are very unfair or transfers property for a consideration
which is grossly inadequate, when his bargaining power is grievously impaired by
reason of his own needs or desires, or by his own ignorance or infirmity, coupled
with undue influences or pressures brought to bear on him by or for the benefit of
the other.
Art. 3:44 (4) BW: ‘Abuse of circumstances occurs when someone knows or
should understand that another person is induced to execute a juridical act
Art. 3.2.7 PICC: ‘(1) A party may avoid the contract or an individual term of it if,
at the time of the conclusion of the contract, the contract or term unjustifiably gave
the other party an excessive advantage. Regard is to be had, among other factors, to
(a) the fact that the other party has taken unfair advantage of the first party’s
dependence, economic distress or urgent needs, or of its improvidence,
ignorance, inexperience or lack of bargaining skill, and
(b) the nature and purpose of the contract.
(2) Upon the request of the party entitled to avoidance, a court may adapt the
contract or term in order to make it accord with reasonable commercial standards
of fair dealing.
(3) A court may also adapt the contract or term upon the request of the party
receiving notice of avoidance, provided that that party informs the other party
of its request promptly after receiving such notice and before the other party has
reasonably acted in reliance on it. Article 3.2.10 (2) applies accordingly.’
E. Misrepresentation
a. No general duty to disclose information
As noted above, civil law jurisdictions are willing to accept a general duty to
disclose information to the other party. In cases where this leads a party to
conclude a contract under a misapprehension, that party can avoid the con-
tract for mistake. English law is different. Consistent case law since the nine-
teenth century holds that there is no general duty to disclose facts known
to one party but not to the other, at least not in commercial transactions.
The leading case is Smith v Hughes (1871) in which the seller knew that the
buyer (a racehorse trainer) wanted to buy a quantity of old oats, but still sold
him new ones (green oats that horses do not eat). The buyer was bound to
the contract. The court reasoned in the best English tradition of separating
morals from law. Blackburn, J held:
The buyer persuaded himself they were old oats, when they were not so; but the
seller neither said nor did anything to contribute to his deception. He has himself
to blame. The question is not what a man of scrupulous morality or nice honour
would do under such circumstances. (…) Whatever may be the case in a court of
morals, there is no legal obligation on the vendor to inform the purchaser that he is
under a mistake, not induced by the act of the vendor.
This view is traditionally recapped in the maxim caveat emptor (Latin for ‘let
Caveat emptor
the buyer beware’): a purchaser must ask questions, or investigate himself,
in the absence of a duty of the seller to volunteer information. The ratio for
this position is again related to the assumption in English law that it is a good
thing if commercial parties deal at arms’ length – next to the already men-
tioned argument that it would be a disincentive to the acquisition of informa-
tion if it is to be shared with one’s counterpart.
The absence of a general duty to give information does not mean that English
law does not accept the need to inform the other party in some well-defined
situations. It was seen in Chapter 8 that in contracts of the utmost good
faith and in fiduciary relationships, a sometimes far-reaching duty to disclose
could arise. This duty can also follow from statute or from a European rule
(as was seen in Chapter 6). Even more important than this is the effect the
law gives to not informing the other party about any matter that makes the
quality of the goods unsatisfactory. According to s. 14 of the Sale of Goods
Act 1979 (in B2B contracts) and s. 9 (1) Consumer Rights Act 2015 (in
B2C contracts), the uninformed buyer can assume that the supplied goods
are of satisfactory quality and can bring contractual remedies if they are not.
b. Misrepresentation
While mere silence is in principle no ground for avoidance of the contract
under English law, this is different in case of an untrue statement. The phrase
‘silence is golden’ seems to have been invented for English law: a party can
remain silent, but if it does speak it must make sure that it is telling the truth.
If it provides incorrect information, the other party may be able to avoid the
contract (rescission) or claim damages on the basis of misrepresentation.
BOX 9.1
states that the house it is trying to sell is very quiet, it is making a neg-
ligent misrepresentation if the house next door is in fact undergoing a
lengthy and noisy renovation. The agent did not know about this (oth-
erwise this would be a case of fraudulent misrepresentation), but the
statement is made in a careless way because he assumed something that
he should have investigated before saying anything. Negligent misrepre-
sentation allows the other party to avoid the contract and claim damages
under S. 2 (1) of the Misrepresentation Act 1967.
The question when exactly a statement is made in a negligent way can be
difficult to answer, but section 2 (1) of the Misrepresentation Act can be of
great help to the disadvantaged party. The provision reverses the burden of
proof by stating that if a party is induced to conclude a contract by another
party’s misrepresentation, it can claim damages unless the other party can
prove that at the time of concluding the contract it believed its statement to
be true and had reasonable grounds to believe this. This provision proved
helpful in the illustrative case of Spice Girls Ltd v Aprilia World Service BV
(2002). On 6 May 1998 the Spice Girls entered into a contract with the
Italian manufacturer of scooters Aprilia. Aprilia would sponsor the tour of
the Spice Girls (according to the contract consisting of five members) in
return for the right to use Spice Girls’ images and their participation in the
filming of an Aprilia TV commercial. On 29 May, shortly after the conclu-
sion of the contract and the shooting of the commercial, Gerri Halliwell
(‘Ginger Spice’) left the group. As a result, Aprilia refused to pay under
the sponsorship contract and claimed back the costs of making the com-
mercial and plans to launch a ‘Spice Sonic’ scooter, arguing that the group
already knew about Halliwell leaving before the conclusion of the contract
and should have disclosed this to Aprilia. The court agreed and held the
Spice Girls liable for negligent misrepresentation. The representation con-
sisted of allowing Halliwell to participate in the commercial, with which
the group represented that she would stay on as a member for the period
the commercial would be used. It would have been difficult for Aprilia to
prove that the Spice Girls actually knew of Halliwell leaving the group,
but as a result of section 2 (1) of the Misrepresentation Act it did not have
to prove this – the Spice Girls could not prove they did not know about
Halliwell leaving and were therefore liable.
z Innocent misrepresentation exists if an incorrect statement is made
without fault, meaning that a party believed its statement to be true and
could also reasonably believe this to be the case. If you sell your stereo
to somebody else, telling the buyer that ‘it functions well’ (which you
believe to be true because you have not used the stereo in the last few
years), this is an innocent misrepresentation. It allows a party to avoid
the contract, unless the court regards this to be a too severe sanction and
wants to award damages instead (Misrepresentation Act, s. 2 (2)).
Defects of consent
Fundamental mistake
Types of mistake
Mistake in English law
Duty of disclosure
Duty to investigate
Fraud
Threat
Undue influence
Abuse of circumstances
Gross disparity
Terms and representations
Caveat emptor
Misrepresentation
Types of misrepresentation
Remedies for misrepresentation
FURTHER READING
– Hugh Beale et al, Cases, Materials and Text on Contract Law, Ius Commune Casebooks for the
Common Law of Europe, 3rd ed., Oxford (Hart Publishing) 2019, Chapters 14–16.
– John Cartwright, Towards a European Civil Code, 4th ed. Nijmegen (Ars Aequi) 2011, Chapter
23.
– Hein Kötz, European Contract Law (translated by Tony Weir and Gill Mertens), 2nd ed., Oxford
(Oxford University Press) 2017, Chapters 9 and 10.
– Anthony Kronman, ‘Mistake, Disclosure, Information and the Law of Contracts’, Journal of
Legal Studies 7 (1978), 1 ff.
– Ewan McKendrick, Contract Law, 12th ed., Basingstoke (Palgrave Macmillan) 2017, Chapters
12 and 13.
– Frances Quinn, Elliott and Quinn’s Contract Law, 12th ed., Harlow (Pearson) 2019, Chapters 9
and 10.
– Ruth Sefton-Green (ed.), Mistake, Fraud and Duties to Inform in European Contract Law,
Cambridge (Cambridge University Press) 2005.
CHAPTER OVERVIEW
Freedom of contract finds its limits in mandatory law, public policy and
good morals. Even if contracting parties intend to be bound, and their
consent is not affected by mistake, fraud, threat, duress or misrepresenta-
tion, their contract can still be void or unenforceable if its conclusion or
performance violates a statute or fundamental principles of society. This
chapter examines these prohibited contracts.
Despite the great importance the law attaches to the principle of freedom
of contract, parties are not free to enter into any contract whatever its con-
tents. Every legal system puts limits on the freedom of contracting parties by
declaring contracts void or unenforceable if they are contrary to mandatory
law, public policy or good morals (bonos mores). If Marjolein agrees to sell
nuclear arms to a terrorist group, or if Jens agrees to kill someone in return
for a sum of money wired to his Swiss bank account, not many people would
doubt that these contracts interfere with the public interest and should there-
fore not be enforceable. Even if it is unlikely that Marjolein and Jens, or their
counterparts, would sue each other in court, the law cannot do without rules
on prohibited contracts. If a court happens to come across one, it is to declare
the contract invalid out of its own motion.
Art. 6 CC: ‘Statutes relating to public policy and morals may not be derogated
from by private agreements.’
Art. 1162 CC: ‘A contract cannot derogate from public policy either by its
stipulations or by its purpose, regardless of whether the latter was known to all the
parties or not.’
§ 134 BGB: ‘A juridical act which violates a statutory prohibition is void, unless
the statute leads to a different conclusion.’
§ 138 (1) BGB: ‘A juridical act which violates good morals is void.’
Art. 3:40 BW: ‘1. A juridical act that by its contents or implications violates good
morals or public policy, is null and void.
2. A juridical act that violates a statutory provision of mandatory law is null and
void; if, however, this statutory provision is only intended to protect one of the
parties to a multilateral juridical act, the juridical act is only avoidable; in both cases
this applies in so far as the provision does not imply otherwise.
3. Section 2 does not apply to statutory provisions which do not purport to
invalidate juridical acts contrary to them.’
These dry provisions raise two main questions. The first question (A) is
Two questions
when exactly a contract goes against a statutory prohibition, public policy
(ordre public, openbare orde) or good morals (gute Sitten, goede zeden).
Public policy or good morals (taken together in the remainder of this
chapter) are open-ended clauses that leave much discretion to the court.
This is on the one hand a good thing because it allows the courts to deal
with changing conceptions of what should be prohibited. What was seen
as immoral in the 1950s (e.g. to let a house for use as a brothel) may
today be accepted, and what was a hundred years ago perfectly permissible
(e.g. to agree to organise a goose-pulling competition) is seen today as
unacceptable (in this example because it entails intolerable cruelty against
animals). On the other hand, it can be difficult for a court to decide what
public policy or good morals requires. Judges are not allowed to impose
their own standards, but rather must feel out what society as a whole
believes to be morally unjustifiable. And while this may still be possi-
ble within one national society, it is highly improbable that there is one,
uniform, global, or even European, conception of what parties can freely
agree upon. This explains why the PECL only contain a very shallow pro-
vision on prohibited contracts (Art. 15:101), which merely states that a
contract is of no effect to the extent that it is ‘contrary to principles rec-
ognized as fundamental in the laws of the member states of the European
Union’.
The second question (B) is what must be the effect of a prohibited con-
tract if it has already been performed. It seems self-evident that a prohibited
contract cannot be enforced and does not allow a claim for damages in case
of non-performance. This is because State courts must refuse to assist in
upholding prohibited contracts. But what if one party, or both parties, have
already performed under the contract (arms dealer Marjolein and hitman
Jens received their money)? Are their partners in crime then allowed to claim
back the payment, or would this mean that the court unjustifiably lends its
services to parties to a prohibited transaction?
Sanction It was seen in Chapter 6 that not all contracts violating a statutory rule will
be declared void. Sometimes a provision only aims to protect one party to
the contract, as in the case where consumer suretyship is not made on a
written form, which only makes the contract avoidable by the guarantor. This
is explicitly laid down in Art. 3:40 (2) BW, but it is also accepted in the case
law of other jurisdictions. It could even be that a statutory provision prohib-
its a contract, but does not purport to invalidate it in any way (as Art. 3:40
(3) BW states). An example of this is the rule that prohibits shops selling
products after hours, such as the UK Sunday Trading Act 1994 and the Berlin
Ladenöffnungsgesetz. Such statutes do not mean to invalidate the contract
with a customer who happened to be in need of a product at an unusual hour,
but only provide administrative sanctions for the retailer (for example that
she must pay a fine to the authorities).
Art 101 TFEU An important example of statutory illegality following from European law can
be found in Art. 101 TFEU. This provision prohibits agreements between
In the above examples, the formation of the agreement itself is prohibited. But
Performance
it can also be that a contract is legally concluded, with illegality only arising at
illegal the time of performance. If A agrees with B to transport goods from Latakia to
Rotterdam, this is a perfectly valid contract. Nowhere in a statute is it written
that a transport contract is illegal. But if shortly before the transport is to
take place the Dutch Government prohibits the import of any products from
Syria, transporting the goods becomes an illegal act.
A party could also be tempted to waive one of its fundamental rights. Although
Waiver
fundamental rights traditionally only work in the ‘vertical’ relationship
between the State and the citizen, they often reflect common societal stand-
ards that also have value in the ‘horizontal’ relationship between citizens.
It would therefore be contrary to public policy or good morals to make the
purchaser of a house agree to no longer exercise his religion in return for a
lower price on the contract. Similarly, Evy will not be able to enforce Ben’s
promise that he will never marry anyone else but her (which would be a
clear violation of Ben’s right to family life). Also contrary to public policy
is a clause (for example in general conditions) that excludes a party from
access to court in case of a dispute, which is seen as a violation of the right to
a fair trial as protected by Art. 6 of the ECHR. Also other agreements that go
against freedom of religion, freedom of speech or other fundamental rights
are usually unenforceable.
come before the courts in the last hundred years offer a nice perspective on
changing views of morality.
In any event until the Summer of Love – and probably for some time
afterwards – agreements promoting ‘sexual immorality’ were, together with
gambling contracts, a main category of contracts held void for violating good
morals. It was considered immoral to let a house be used as a brothel, or for
cohabitants (if married to somebody else) to agree on their mutual financial
obligations in the common household (or, in the language of times foregone
‘to pay a mistress’). Just at the end of the Victorian era, the English court still
held void a contract under which a person was paid a fee by a lonely single to
find her a marriage partner (Hermann v Charlesworth, 1905).
All these examples have become redundant. The frontiers of today’s sexual
morality lie somewhere else. Not many European jurisdictions would still
disallow a claim of a prostitute or a call girl for the agreed price. The English
Court of Appeal also held a contract to advertise for telephone sex lines in
magazines perfectly valid, arguing that, although ‘distasteful’, sex lines were
generally accepted by society (Armhouse Lee Ltd v Chappell, 1996). In the
same vein, not many people have sleepless nights – at least not because of the
infringement of standards of morality – if they are confronted with so-called
‘casual dating’ sites that actively promote adultery under the slogan ‘Life is
short, have a second love.’
The more important cases today are concerned with topics such as surrogate
Surrogate
motherhood and trading in body parts and human blood. In the last 30 years
motherhood cases of surrogate motherhood have come before the courts in a wide variety
of countries. This is the result of better techniques of artificial insemination,
but the phenomenon itself is as old as the Old Testament. In Genesis 16 the
following story is told:
Now Sarah, Abraham’s wife, had borne him no children. But she had an Egyptian
slave named Hagar; so she said to Abraham, “The Lord has kept me from having
children. Go, sleep with my slave; perhaps I can build a family through her.”
Abraham agreed to what Sarah said. So after Abraham had been living in Canaan
ten years, Sarah his wife took her Egyptian slave Hagar and gave her to her husband
to be his wife. He slept with Hagar, and she conceived.
While Hagar was the child’s genetic mother, surrogate motherhood (a woman
agreeing to bear and give birth to a child for a person or a couple with a view
to that person or couple adopting or taking legal custody of the child) today
often consists of carrying a child that is genetically unrelated to the woman
who delivers it. Jurisdictions around the world differ widely in their approach
to holding such surrogacy agreements enforceable or not. The French Civil
Code, in a chapter on ‘respect of the human body’ introduced by the French
legislator in 1994, explicitly declares void ‘all agreements relating to procrea-
tion or gestation for the sake of somebody else’ (Art. 16-7 CC). If a surrogacy
agreement (maternité pour autrui) was made and the surrogate mother does
not want to keep the child, the intended parents are even excluded from
the possibility to adopt it. German law is equally strict and introduced in
1998 a new § 1591 BGB, which concisely states: ‘The mother of a child is
the woman who gave birth to it.’ The other extreme is India, where com-
mercial surrogacy (meaning that the surrogate mother receives a fee for her
services) is perfectly legal, making it a leading country in so-called fertility
tourism. Clinics in India even offer full packages for foreigners including the
hiring of Indian surrogate mothers, fertilisation and delivery of the baby for a
price ranging between €15,000 and €90,000. In between these two extremes
are the UK and the Netherlands that allow only altruistic surrogacy, which
means that the intended parents and surrogate mother (draagmoeder) can
validly agree on reimbursement of the latter’s medical and other expenses,
but not on an enforceable obligation of the surrogate mother to give the
newborn to the intended parents or to be paid a fee. While this is established
case law in the Netherlands, the UK adopted legislation on this in the form of
the Surrogacy Arrangements Act 1985, which states:
3. Other contracts
The very nature of an open-ended clause such as public policy or good
morals makes it impossible to list all categories of agreements that might fall
under it. When US Supreme Court justice Potter Stewart asked himself how
to define the open-ended term ‘hardcore pornography’, he replied: ‘I know
it when I see it.’
BOX 10.1
• Court: allowing surrogacy probably this would not only remedy the short-
means that the baby will go the highest age of adoption babies, but it could also
bidders, regardless of whether they are lead to fewer children being neglected
suited as parents. Posner: unlike paintings by their parents, and to benefits for a
by Van Gogh, there is no fixed supply mother who may not want to be bur-
of babies. Supply will increase if money dened with the need to carry a baby for
can be earned and the ensuing com- nine months. Moreover, an illegal market
petition among surrogate mothers will for babies probably already exists today
force down the price. The court should and would disappear if one could validly
therefore not be worried that adoption is contract about parental rights.
only available to the wealthy (who, inci- • Court: infertile couples with a low
dentally, are also the first to adopt in case income will not find surrogate mothers.
adoption is regulated by the State). Posner: this argument is the ‘jurispru-
• Court: the shortage of babies for adop- dence of envy’. Even if it were true that
tion will lead to middlemen who get poor couples cannot afford the price of a
paid to increase the supply of babies [so surrogate mother, they are not helped by
the type of surrogacy clinics we saw that a rule that prohibits infertile high income
exist in India, JMS]. Posner: this is cer- couples from hiring one.
tainly true, but this is not an argument • Court: ‘There are, in short, values that
against but for baby brokers. There are society deems more important than
not enough babies offered for adop- granting to wealth whatever it can buy,
tion precisely because middlemen are be it labor, love, or life.’ Posner: it is not
not allowed to bring together demand clear how these values are served by
and supply and are not allowed to be refusing to allow the enforcement of a
paid for this. It must be noted that, in surrogacy contract.
one of the most famous law articles of
One need not agree with all of Posner’s
the 1970s, Posner and his colleague
counterarguments to see that there is
Elisabeth Landes argued in favour of cre-
(much) more to prohibiting surrogacy con-
ating a market for babies. If a mother is
tracts than mere ‘morality’.
allowed to put up her child for adoption,
However, a practical difficulty arises if a party (or both parties) have already
performed the prohibited contract. The normal consequence of a contract
being void or avoided (for example on the ground of legal incapacity or
mistake) is that each of the parties can claim restitution of what it has already
supplied under the contract. So in case of a sales contract the buyer can
recover the money paid and the seller can claim the goods back. But this
is not the self-evident outcome in case of a prohibited contract. The mafia
boss who paid the hitman for his much-needed services should not be able
to recover the paid sum. The Romans certainly thought so. The Digest (the
most important part of the Corpus Iuris Civilis) devotes an entire title (Book
12, Title 5) to ‘The action for recovery if the cause is immoral or unlawful.’
Here we find the views of the great Roman jurists Julius Paulus and Domitius
Ulpianus on the consequences of respectively bribing a judge, sexual immo-
rality and paying hush money to an unwelcome spectator:
3. Paulus (…): Where both the giver and the recipient are guilty of immoral
conduct, we hold that no action lies for recovery as, for instance, where money is
paid in order to pervert a judgment.
4. Ulpianus (…): The same applies where something is given for sexual
malpractice, or where someone caught in adultery buys his way out: no action for
recovery will then be available (…).
This rule of Roman law is still known today as the in pari delicto rule: in cases
In pari delicto
where both parties have unclean hands because they willingly acted against a
statute or against public policy or good morals, they cannot recover anything.
This rule can be found in the German BGB (§ 817) and is accepted in most
other jurisdictions as well. The lucky consequence of the in pari delicto rule is
that if only one of the parties is primarily responsible for the illegality, and the
other party is relatively innocent, the latter’s claim for restitution is allowed.
An example is provided by the limitations that many jurisdictions pose on
the payment of so-called ‘key money’ when renting a house or a room. A
tenant must naturally pay the rent, and possibly a refundable deposit not
exceeding a reasonable amount (for example two or three months of rent),
but the payment of a non-refundable sum to the landlord when the lease
is concluded is a fatal recipe for abuse and therefore often prohibited. Even
if the tenant knew that this practice is illegal when he paid the key money,
he can reclaim the money. His ‘fault’ is only little compared to that of the
landlord.
The extent to which both parties were at fault or intended to infringe upon
Factors
statutory or fundamental norms is not the only factor that plays a role in
deciding whether or not restitution should be granted. Another relevant
factor is the purpose of the rule. One can well argue that a difference must be
made between a contract that amounts to a gross infringement of fundamen-
tal values (the hitman’s agreement to kill someone) and a contract that only
violates an administrative provision (such as a provision on rent control or
the need for a licence). This multi-factor approach, which makes it depend-
ent on a range of factors whether a claim for recovery is possible, is gradu-
ally becoming the accepted view in the whole of Europe. Art. 15:104 PECL
reflects the progressive solution that we need in this complicated matter.
(1) When a contract is rendered ineffective under Articles 15:101 or 15:102, either
party may claim restitution of whatever that party has supplied under the contract,
provided that, where appropriate, concurrent restitution is made of whatever has
been received.
(2) When considering whether to grant restitution under paragraph (1), and what
concurrent restitution, if any, would be appropriate, regard must be had to the
factors referred to in Article 15:102 (3).
(3) An award of restitution may be refused to a party who knew or ought to have
known of the reason for the ineffectiveness.
(4) If restitution cannot be made in kind for any reason, a reasonable sum must be
paid for what has been received.
The provision no longer starts from the in pari delicto rule, but states instead
that a claim for restitution must be available if this is appropriate, which is
made dependent on six factors to be weighed in the circumstances of the
case.
Prohibited contracts
Statutory illegality
Contracts against public policy or good morals
FURTHER READING
– Hugh Beale et al, Cases, Materials and Text on Contract Law, Ius Commune Casebooks for the
Common Law of Europe, 3rd ed., Oxford (Hart Publishing) 2019, Chapter 17.
– Hein Kötz, European Contract Law (translated by Tony Weir and Gill Mertens), 2nd ed., Oxford
(Oxford University Press) 1997, Chapter 7.
– Ewan McKendrick, Contract Law, 12th ed., Basingstoke (Palgrave Macmillan) 2017, Chapter
15.
– Hector L. MacQueen, Towards a European Civil Code, 4th ed., Nijmegen (Ars Aequi) 2011,
Chapter 24.
– Richard A. Posner and Elisabeth M. Landes, ‘The Economics of the Baby Shortage’, Journal of
Legal Studies 7 (1978), 323 ff.
– Richard A. Posner, Economic Analysis of Law, 9th ed., New York (Wolters Kluwer) 2014,
Chapter 5.
– Frances Quinn, Elliott and Quinn’s Contract Law, 12th ed., Harlow (Pearson) 2019, Chapter 11.
Contractual remedies
This part examines the contractual remedies, which are available when the
other party does not perform its contractual obligations. In a normal situa-
tion both parties perform in conformity with what they agreed upon, leading
to discharge of the contract by performance. But it can also happen that a
party is in breach of what was agreed upon. The tenant can refuse to leave
the apartment, the hairdresser can set up shop next to his former employer,
and the ordered products may not be delivered on time, or not at all. This
raises the question of what the disappointed creditor can do. Depending on
whether the exact requirements for each of these remedies are met, there are
five possible actions:
CHAPTER OVERVIEW
• the availability of the action for performance in civil law and common
law;
• how to execute a court order for performance;
• when the action for performance cannot be brought because of impos-
sibility (frustration) or because it requires personal services or constant
supervision of compliance by the court;
• when unforeseen circumstances can be invoked;
• repair, replacement and price reduction in consumer sales as laid down
in the Consumer Sales Directive;
• the solution proposed by the PECL.
The principle of binding force of the contract would be futile in cases where
a party could escape from being bound to its agreement. However, there are
two fundamentally different ways in which one can reason about what it
means to be ‘bound’ to a contract.
First, one can argue that this must mean that the creditor can go to court and
Civil law actually force the debtor to perform in natura; so he can obtain a court order
that the goods must be delivered, that the former employee must refrain from
competition, or that the contractor must build the house. The position of the
civil law is that binding force of the contract means that in principle the credi-
tor is allowed to claim performance in any case. Civil law jurisdictions thus
tend to regard a contract as a moral device: promises must be kept.
Second, one can argue that binding force means primarily that the credi-
Common law tor is allowed to claim monetary compensation where the debtor does not
This difference between the civil law and the common law approach to per-
formance sets the agenda for this chapter. First, several civil law jurisdictions
are examined (A), followed by a survey of English law (B). Separate attention
is paid to the doctrine of unforeseen circumstances (C) and to the European
solution in the PECL and in the European directive 2019/771 on sale of
goods (D).
It is of course dependent on the contract itself at what point such a claim for
performance can be brought. If the parties have agreed that delivery is due
on 1 May, it is only from this day onward that performance can be claimed.
The law supplements the gap in case no time was fixed for performance. For
example, § 271 (1) BGB and Art. 6:38 BW specify that performance can
then be demanded ‘immediately’, which means that the debtor has as much
time as he reasonably needs to carry out his obligations (a similar rule is pro-
vided by Art. 7:102 PECL).
The general availability of the claim for performance implies that it is dif-
Futile defect
ficult for the debtor to argue that the creditor has only little interest in per-
formance compared to the disproportionate efforts that the debtor may have
to go through. The performance must in general entirely match what the
parties agreed upon. In a Dutch case in which the tiles of the façade of a
newly built office building showed cosmetic defects through corrosion the
court still allowed a claim for performance (meaning that the debtor had
to replace the tiles), even though the costs of replacement amounted to Fl.
6 million (€2,730,000) and the defects were hardly visibly from the street
(Multi Vastgoed v Nethou, 2001). French courts also used to allow a claim for
performance in cases where the creditor seemed to suffer only little harm
or inconvenience. In a case in which a swimming pool was built with three
instead of four steps, the contractor could still be obliged to perform correctly
(Piscine, 1984). In the extreme case of Belhadj v Les Batisseurs du Grand Delta
(2005), a family house had been built that was 33 cm lower than agreed upon.
This did not make it unfit for its purpose and use, but still the court allowed
the claim to demolish and rebuild the house. This decision seems contrary
to what reasonableness and fairness require in the contractual relationship,
and it would probably be decided differently today. The new Art. 1221 CC
(introduced in 2016) now requires the court to deny a claim for performance
if there is a manifest disproportion between its cost to the debtor and its inter-
est for the creditor. The German § 275 BGB also offers space for denying the
claim in case of a futile defect. It states that the debtor may refuse performance
‘to the extent that performance requires expense and effort which, taking into
account the contents of the obligation and the requirements of good faith, is
grossly disproportionate to the interest in performance of the creditor’.
2. Impossibility of performance
Even if the claim for performance is in principle always available in a civil law
jurisdiction, without the need for a requirement other than that the obliga-
tion is due, this does not mean that claiming performance is always useful.
The court will naturally deny the claim if performance is impossible. If a
house burns down the day before it has to be delivered to the buyer, it would
be pointless for the court to order the seller to perform. It may be possible
to bring a claim for damages or termination (if the requirements for these
claims are met), but performance is no longer possible. Lawyers distinguish
between different types of impossibility.
BOX 11.1
Absolute
First, the most obvious type of case in which performance is impossible
impossibility is that of absolute impossibility. This means that performance is objectively
(‘logically’) impossible. Apart from the example of the burnt-down house,
one can think of a car dealer who promises to service a car that is wrecked in a
crash just before the agreed day on which the maintenance would take place.
Another example is when a party needs to perform the contract personally,
but is unable to do so (the lead singer of the group dies of an overdose or
the hired architect goes insane). A contract can also require a party to do
something that was already achieved: I hire a plumber to unplug my sink, but
before she arrives a plunger has already done the job. A final example is when
the contract fixes a time for performance and the time has elapsed. A DJ
who is to perform in Amsterdam on King’s Day can no longer perform if the
due date has passed. The classic case is that of ordering a wedding dress. If
Alfredo agrees to deliver a snow-white fairy tale bridal to Liz for her wedding
with Rita on 8 August 2008, performance has become absolutely impossible
after that date (at least if we assume that Liz does not want to use the dress for
her second, third or fourth marriage).
All this is different in case of non-generic (or specific) goods. If I buy a work
Specific goods
of art by Damien Hirst, hire Armin van Buuren to play at my birthday, or have
Santiago Calatrava build my new house, these are obligations that can only
be performed by these specific debtors. Hence, absolute impossibility of per-
formance will follow from the object’s decay and from the DJ and architect
falling ill.
Until a hundred years ago or so, only absolute impossibility was accepted by
Relative
the law as a reason for not being able to claim performance. This was in line
impossibility with the liberal climate of the nineteenth century, in which the bindingness of
a contract was almost absolute and the interest of the creditor in performance
prevailed over that of the debtor to escape if performance would be unreason-
ably difficult. This has changed. A second type of impossibility of performance
is recognised today under the heading of relative impossibility. If Samantha’s
ring slides off of her finger while on a boat trip on the North Sea, the jeweller in
Paris to whom she sold the ring cannot claim delivery. In principle it would be
possible for Samantha to organise a search and rescue operation with pontoons
and divers, but the time and money this would take would be so dispropor-
tionate to the value of the ring that this is not what she is reasonably expected
to do. It may be that the loss of the ring was caused by her careless behaviour,
but this then only allows a claim for damages and not for performance.
It is evident that the law cannot easily accept a case of relative impossibility
as this would violate the binding force of contract. Legislators and courts
throughout the world have tried to find a formula that expresses when per-
formance can no longer be demanded. Article 9:102 PECL requires that
performance would cause the debtor ‘unreasonable effort or expense’, Art.
7.2.2 PICC that performance is ‘unreasonably burdensome or expensive’, the
American Restatement (Second) of Contracts an ‘unreasonable difficulty,
Practical expense, injury or loss’ and the explanatory memorandum to the Dutch Civil
impossibility Code demands ‘a so exceptional effort or sacrifice that performance is prac-
tically impossible’. Finally, § 275 (2) of the German BGB allows the debtor
to refuse performance if this requires expense and effort of the debtor that
is ‘grossly disproportionate’ to the interest of the creditor in performance.
These are all necessarily imperfect formulations that only beget their true
meaning when applied to real cases. These cases show that there is a thin line
between performance that is difficult and performance that is too difficult.
Sometimes a debtor argues that performance of the contract would make him
go bankrupt, or in any event cause great financial difficulty. This is not an
argument that courts are willing to accept. A purely financial reason does not
amount to impossibility. The policy reason behind this must be that there is an
alternative way to deal with financial difficulties of the debtor, namely insol-
vency law. Rather than allow the debtor not to perform his obligations towards
one specific claimant, insolvency will allow the law to consider the interests of
all creditors as well as that of the debtor in a special procedure created for this.
Moral The cases discussed until now are sometimes referred to as practical impossi-
impossibility bility. They concern situations in which performance has become so onerous
that it can no longer be expected from the debtor. Two other categories of
relative impossibility are moral and legal impossibility. In a case of moral
impossibility performance by the debtor is not possible without unreason-
able danger to his own (or another’s) life, health or freedom. The textbook
example is that of an opera singer who refuses to sing at the recital because
his child is seriously ill. In the same vein, an employer cannot oblige her
employees to remain at work if an epidemic disease has broken out or if tem-
peratures at the office are too high to bear. An illustrative case from English
law – which, as we shall see below, also accepts impossibility as a valid excuse
for non-performance – is Liston v SS Carpathian (Owners) (1915). Here, the
claimants were sailors on a trip from England to Port Arthur. Upon arrival
in the port, located in Texas, the sailors heard that the First World War had
broken out and were therefore allowed to refuse to sail back to Europe. In a
German case (Wehrdienst im Ausland, 1983) a Turk living and working in
Germany was allowed to stay away from work due to moral impossibility: he
had to perform his military service in Turkey and failure to do so would have
meant prosecution and possibly even the death penalty.
3. Personal services
Sometimes contracts call for services to be delivered by a party who is the only
one able to provide them. A famous photographer can agree to make a series
of photos of a wealthy businesswoman or a scientist can contract with a pub-
lisher to write a book on the Higgs particle. Can such contracts for personal
services be enforced in the courts? All the world’s legal systems answer in the
negative, allowing the drafters of the DCFR to formulate a common rule in
Art. III-3:302 (3): ‘Specific performance cannot (…) be enforced where:
(…) c. performance would be of such a personal character that it would be
unreasonable to enforce it.’ Three reasons can be given for this. First, to force
the debtor to perform personal services or work is seen as a too-severe interfer-
ence with the debtor’s personal liberty. Second, when compelled to perform
such services, the debtor is not likely to deliver high-quality work. And third,
the court will find it difficult to determine whether the debtor performed its
obligations in the proper way. This means that the likes of David Guetta and
Jürgen Habermas cannot be ordered by the court to show their artistic and
academic talents. If this seems harsh on the organiser of the concert or on the
publisher, one must realise that it may be possible to claim damages (Chapter
12) or terminate the contract (Chapter 13). In addition, the court can help
the creditor by issuing a so-called injunction (an order not to do a particular
thing), which forbids the debtor from performing a similar obligation at the
same time for somebody else. Thus, if Guetta refuses to stand by his original
agreement to perform on Ibiza because he was asked to do a better-paid gig in
Berlin, the court can prevent such opportunistic behaviour by prohibiting his
performance. When the German singer Johanna Wagner broke her contract
to perform at Her Majesty’s Theatre in London’s West End because Covent
Garden offered her more money, Lord Chancellor St Leonards prohibited her
from performing anywhere other than in Her Majesty’s Theatre:
It is true that I have not the means of compelling her to sing, but she has no cause
of complaint if I compel her to abstain from the commission of an act which she
has bound herself not to do, and thus possibly cause her to fulfil her engagement’
(Lumley v Wagner, 1852).
Similar to the civil law, the mere fact that performance has become more
Practical
onerous is not likely to amount to frustration because of practical impossibil-
impossibility ity. In the case of Tsakiroglou Co Ltd v Noblee Thorl GmbH (1962), a contract
had been concluded for the shipping of 300 tons of Sudanese peanuts from
Port Sudan to Hamburg. Both parties assumed that the ship could navigate
through the Suez Canal, but the Canal was blocked as a result of the second
Arab-Israeli War of 1956. The only way to deliver the peanuts within the
agreed upon time was to go via the Cape of Good Hope, a distance three times
as long as what was originally envisaged. The debtor argued that the contract
had been frustrated and refused to deliver the goods. However, the court
found that it was still possible to perform: the fact that it was more difficult
and costly did not amount to frustration.
Even if a claim for damages would not do perfect justice, performance does not
Continuous
duties require personal services and is not impossible, English law is still hesitant to
grant a decree of specific performance in case the execution of the judgment
would be difficult. This is in particular the case if the contract requires continu-
ous duties, as in case of long-term contracts. In Co-operative Insurance Society Ltd
v Argyll Stores (Holdings) Ltd (1997), for example, the court refused to compel
a supermarket to carry on a tenancy. In 1979 Co-op had let the main unit of
the Hillsborough Shopping Centre in Sheffield to Argyll for use as a Safeway
supermarket for a period of 35 years. The contract explicitly stated that Argyll
was ‘to keep open the demised premises for retail trade’ during this period.
This provision (a ‘keep-open covenant’) was motivated by the wish of Co-op
to have one big ‘anchor’ shop in the shopping centre that could attract many
customers and thus also generate business for the smaller shops in the centre.
When in 1995 Argyll decided to close the shop because it was no longer profit-
able, Co-op demanded a court order for specific performance of the keep-open
agreement. Unlike the Court of Appeal, the House of Lords did not grant the
order. It found that an order for specific performance could not be granted in
order to compel someone to carry on a business as this would require constant
supervision by the court. This would be different if the contract is for a certain
result because then the court can easily establish whether this is reached or not.
One of the other arguments used by the court was that it is not in the public
interest to require someone to carry on business at a loss if there is a plausible
alternative way of providing compensation (namely a claim in damages). If a
party were ordered to run a business, it would effectively be locked into a hostile
relationship, which is likely to lead to a flow of complaints, solicitors’ letters and
new court cases. This is, however, not the only way to deal with keep-open cov-
enants. In Scots law, for example, such agreements can be enforced.
C. Unforeseen circumstances
In Chapter 8 the doctrine of unforeseen circumstances (‘hardship’ or ‘super-
vening events’) was mentioned as an application of the principle of good
faith. There is a thin line between these unforeseen circumstances and cases
of practical impossibility. In theory the difference is clear: while practi-
cal impossibility renders performance reasonably impossible (the golden
ring lies at the bottom of the sea), unforeseen circumstances only render it
(much) more difficult or expensive (the market for gold unexpectedly soars).
But in practice the difference is difficult to make. This explains why English
law usually lumps the two situations together under the heading of frustration
(because the purpose of the transaction is frustrated, both in case of impos-
sibility to perform and in case of excessive hardship). Other jurisdictions dis-
tinguish between the two, often leading to difficult questions of demarcation.
English law does not allow the court to amend or put an end to the contract
only because the contract has become more onerous as a result of superven-
ing events. As was seen above in the case of the Tsakiroglou, English courts
are very hesitant to invoke the doctrine of frustration in cases other than
of impossibility. It is only allowed if the supervening event radically or fun-
damentally changes the nature of the performance. For example, the High
Court recently held that Brexit does not frustrate a 25-year lease of premises
in Canary Wharf worth £500 million of a European agency having to move its
Art. 1195 CC: ‘If a change of circumstances unforeseeable at the time of the
conclusion of the contract renders performance excessively onerous for a party
who had not accepted the risk of such a change, that party may ask the other
contracting party to renegotiate the contract. The first party must continue to
perform his obligations during renegotiation.
In case of refusal or failure of renegotiations, the parties may agree to terminate the
contract from the date and on the conditions which they determine, or by a common
agreement ask the court to adapt the contract. In the absence of an agreement within
a reasonable time, the court may, on the request of a party, revise the contract or put
an end to it, from a date and subject to such conditions as it shall determine.’
§ 313 BGB: ‘1. If circumstances upon which a contract was based have significantly
changed since the contract was entered into and if the parties would not have
entered into the contract or would have entered into it upon different terms if they
had foreseen this change, adaptation of the contract may be demanded to the extent
that, taking account all the circumstances of the specific case, in particular the
contractual or statutory distribution of risk, one of the parties cannot reasonably be
expected to continue to be bound to the contract without adaptation.
2. It is equivalent to a change of circumstances if material assumptions that have
become the basis of the contract turn out to be incorrect.
3. If adaptation of the contract is not possible or cannot reasonably be imposed
on one party, the disadvantaged party may terminate the contract. In the case of a
contract for the performance of recurring obligations, the right to terminate with
notice takes the place of the right to terminate.’
Art. 6:258 BW: ‘1. Upon the demand of one of the parties, the court may adapt
the effects of the contract or terminate the contract in whole or in part on the
basis of unforeseen circumstances which are of such a nature that the other party,
according to criteria of reasonableness and fairness, may not expect that the
contract be maintained in an unmodified form. The court may give retroactive
effect to the adaptation or termination.
2. The adaptation or termination of the contract is not granted to the extent that
the party invoking the circumstances, in view of the nature of the contract or
common opinion, should come for account of the party who invokes them.
(…).
The great advantage of the civil law approach is that it allows the court not
only to terminate, but also to amend the contract. Frustration in English law
automatically ends the contract, no matter whether the parties want this or
not. The new French Art. 1195 CC (inspired by Articles 6:111 PECL and
6.2.3 PICC) goes even further and requires that the parties first enter into
negotiations about the adaptation or termination of the contract. The court
is only allowed to step in if they do not reach agreement about new condi-
tions or about how to end the contract.
BOX 11.2
the consumer (think of rental and energy special provisions to prohibit landlords from
contracts) or the economic basis of the evicting their tenants in the case of non-
business. Several countries, including the payment of rent.
UK in its Coronavirus Act 2020, introduced
Meanwhile, the difference between civil law and common law has further
Consumer diminished as a result of European legislation. Directive 2019/771 on sale
The consumer cannot choose at random between these claims for perfor-
mance (repair or replacement) on the one hand, and price reduction and ter-
mination on the contract on the other. The latter two actions are essentially
only available in case the seller did not complete (or outright refused) repair
or replacement, the lack of conformity was so serious it justified immediate
price reduction or termination, or the seller declared he would not bring the
goods into conformity within a reasonable time. With this, the European legis-
lator created a hierarchy of actions, thus balancing the interest of both seller and
buyer. The buyer who is confronted with the breaking down of his washing
machine must first allow the seller to repair or replace it. Only if the seller
is unable or unwilling to do so, or the defect is really serious, can the buyer
terminate or claim an appropriate price reduction. Next to these ‘European’
rights, the consumer is still able to exercise all the rights it has under national
law, in particular the right to damages for non-performance (see Chapter 12).
It is clear why the consumer’s right to repair and replacement brings English
law closer to the civil law. Prior to European intervention, an English consumer
to whom a defective good was delivered had to have it repaired at his own cost
and then claim back the money from the seller by way of damages. The alterna-
tive was to terminate the contract and buy the goods elsewhere, but both rem-
edies are not as effective as a direct claim for repair or replacement (as is now
laid down in the UK Consumer Rights Act 2015, s. 19 (3–4) and 23).
FURTHER READING
– Hugh Beale et al, Cases, Materials and Text on Contract Law, Ius Commune Casebooks for the
Common Law of Europe, 3rd ed., Oxford (Hart Publishing) 2019, Chapters 23 and 28–30.
– Frances Quinn, Elliott and Quinn’s Contract Law, 12th ed., Harlow (Pearson) 2019, Chapter 15.
– Oliver Wendell Holmes, The Common Law, 1881, Mark DeWolfe Howe (ed.), Cambridge
Mass. 1963.
– Ewan McKendrick, Contract Law, 12th ed., Basingstoke (Palgrave Macmillan) 2017, Chapters
14 and 21.
– Reinhard Zimmermann, ‘Breach of Contract and Remedies under the New German Law of
Obligations’, Saggi, Conferenze e Seminari 48, Centro di studi e ricerche di diritto comparato e
straniero, Rome 2002, 17–27.
– Konrad Zweigert and Hein Kötz, An Introduction to Comparative Law (translated by Tony
Weir), 3rd ed., Oxford (Oxford University Press) 1998, Chapters 35 and 37.
CHAPTER OVERVIEW
If a party does not perform the contract in the way agreed upon, or not at
all, the creditor can exercise a contractual remedy. The creditor will, if the
relevant criteria are met, be able to terminate the contract (Chapter 13) or
claim damages for non-performance (this chapter). Jurisdictions differ in
the extent to which they require that the non-performance is not excused
(‘attributable’), a notice needs to be sent, or a second chance to perform
needs to be given to the debtor. Another relevant question is which
damages can exactly be claimed and whether parties can agree upon a
damages clause or not.
It was seen in Chapter 11 that contracts are usually discharged through per-
formance, either voluntarily or through a court order. But it can also happen
that a party does not perform. This chapter and Chapter 13 are devoted to
the rights of the creditor in such a case of non-performance (or ‘breach’) of
the contract. This means that we enter the pathology of contract law: it is not
normal that contracts are not (properly) performed, but if it happens the
law must provide a set of default rules that balances the interests of creditor
and debtor in a fair way. On the one hand, the creditor has a clear interest in
obtaining damages that put him in the same position he would have been
in had the contract been properly performed; on the other hand, however,
it may be that the debtor could not help his non-performance, for example
the seller cannot be blamed for the fact that the object was stolen before
delivery, or where a singer falls ill just before the concert takes place. The
law must balance these interests and different jurisdictions do so in different
ways.
The action for damages for non-performance (this chapter) and the action
for termination of the contract (Chapter 13) have in common that they both
require non-performance: the debtor does not do what the contract requires.
The law classifies non-performance in three different ways:
Types of non-
does not perform? The law distinguishes between the situation in which
performance the non-performance is the debtor’s fault (or attributable to him for another
reason) and the situation in which there is force majeure. If a debtor who is
to install central heating in a house takes a four-week holiday, causing the
works to be delayed, this is a clear case of fault. But it may also be that
the debtor cannot be blamed for the non-performance, but must still bear
the risk (the debtor’s diligently selected employee turns out to have lied
about his diplomas and work experience, making him unsuitable to help
with the performance of the contract). We will see that the distinction
between non-excused (‘attributable’) and excused (‘non-attributable’)
non-performance is relevant for the possibility to claim damages.
z on the basis of the seriousness of the non-performance. If someone is to
deliver 300 laptop computers and delivers only five, the breach is obvi-
ously more serious than in case 299 laptops are delivered. This is relevant
for the availability of the claim for termination of the contract, as will be
seen in Chapter 13.
While the world’s legal systems all agree that non-performance is the main
requirement for claiming damages, they diverge to a greater or lesser extent
when it comes to the answer to four other questions:
Art. 1218 CC: ‘In contractual matters, there is force majeure where an event
beyond the control of the debtor, which could not reasonably have been foreseen at
the time of the conclusion of the contract and whose effects could not be avoided
by appropriate measures, prevents performance of his obligation by the debtor.
If the prevention is temporary, performance of the obligation is suspended unless
the delay which results justifies termination of the contract. If the prevention
is permanent, the contract is terminated by operation of law and the parties are
discharged from their obligations under the conditions provided by articles 1351
and 1351-1.’
§ 276 BGB: ‘(1) The debtor is responsible for intention and negligence, if a higher
or lower degree of liability is neither laid down nor to be inferred from the contents
of the obligation, including but not limited to the giving of a guarantee or the
assumption of a procurement risk. (…)
(2) A person acts negligently if he fails to exercise reasonable care. (…)’
§ 280 BGB: ‘(1) If the debtor breaches a duty arising from the obligation, the
creditor may demand damages for the damage caused thereby. This does not apply
if the breach of duty (Pflichtverletzung) is not attributable to the debtor.
(2) Damages for delay in performance may be demanded by the creditor only
subject to the additional requirement of § 286.
(3) Damages in lieu of performance may be demanded by the creditor only subject
to the additional requirements of § 281, of § 282 or of § 283.’
Art. 6:74 BW: ‘1. Any non-performance of an obligation obliges the debtor to
compensate the creditor for the damage the latter suffers as a result, unless the non-
performance is not attributable to the debtor.
2. In so far as performance is not yet permanently impossible, section 1 of this
Article only applies with due observance of what is regulated in subchapter 2 on
default of the debtor.’
These provisions allow the creditor to claim damages whenever the non-
French law
performance is attributable to the debtor (Art. 9:501 PECL speaks of non-
performance that is ‘not excused’). The key question is of course what counts
as an excusable obstacle to performance, meaning that the debtor is freed
from the obligation to pay damages. It seems rather clear that each jurisdic-
tion draws the line somewhat differently.
Under the French Article 1218 CC, force majeure requires that two condi-
Best efforts and
tions are satisfied: the obstacle must be ‘imprévisible and inévitable.’ This
results means that the event must have been unforeseeable at the time of concluding
the contract and must pose an irresistible obstacle for performance. This for-
mulation still leaves much leeway for the courts in deciding when the debtor
is freed. In the case of La Concorde v Montagnani (1994), Mr. Montagnani
had checked into the Hotel des Lices in Saint-Tropez. Shortly after he had
deposited almost €17,000 in the hotel safe, the hotel was robbed by four
thieves who forced the hotel staff to open the safe. Mr. Montagnani claimed
damages on the basis of non-performance by the hotel. The court did not find
this a case of force majeure. Armed robbery in a luxury hotel is not unforesee-
able and, even if it was impossible for the hotel staff to resist opening the safe
Meanwhile the French position is not always as harsh on the debtor as this
decision suggests. In reality an important role is assigned to the distinction
between the obligation de moyens and the obligation de résultat. In the case
of the first type of obligation, the debtor only needs to show that he carried
out all best efforts that can be expected from a reasonable party (true to its
masculine roots the French Code spoke until 2014 of the bon père de famille –
the good housefather). In case of the obligation to achieve a result, however,
the debtor must ensure that he achieves what is agreed upon in the contract.
This is an important distinction in practice because if the debtor needs to
procure a certain result, it is easy for the creditor to prove that the contract is
not properly performed. It is subsequently up to the debtor to show that force
majeure prevented him from performing. In the case of an obligation to use
best efforts, the debtor is only liable if the creditor proves that the debtor did
not try as hard as can be expected from a reasonable party, which is obviously
more difficult.
This makes it important to know which obligations are for a result and which
are for best efforts. Although this is a matter of interpretation of individual
contracts by the courts, it is consistent case law that for example the seller’s
obligation to deliver goods on time, of the lessor to provide the good to the
lessee, and of the ski-lift operator to keep the user safe, are all obligations
to achieve a result. The same is true for the doctor’s duty to use proper and
clean equipment, while the doctor’s obligation to treat patients, and the law-
yer’s obligation to represent clients, are only obligations to use best efforts.
This is sound reasoning: the doctor cannot be expected to cure the patient or
the lawyer to win his case.
What the German and Dutch Code say explicitly, but what the French courts
No fault also accept, is that the debtor is not only responsible in case he is at fault.
Art. 8:108 (1) PECL aptly summarises the civil law position:
2. English law
English law, unlike civil law jurisdictions, regards any contract as containing
a guarantee. This means that the debtor can in principle not escape liability
in damages in cases where he could not help his failure to perform. The seller
must simply deliver the goods and the contractor must build the house. This
doctrine of strict or ‘absolute’ liability for breach of contract dates back to
the case of Paradine v Jane (1647), in which the lessee was kept to his obli-
gation to pay rent to the landowner, even though he could not access the
land for three years because it had been invaded by hostile forces during the
English Civil War. The inclination of English law is not to be interested in
why a party did not perform. In the attractive language of Sellers, J in Nicolene
Ltd v Simmonds (1953): ‘It does not matter whether the failure to fulfil the
contract by the seller is because he is indifferent or wilfully negligent or just
unfortunate. It does not matter what the reason is. What matters is the fact of
performance. Has he performed or not?’
The only possible way of escaping liability is to invoke the doctrine of frus-
Frustration
tration. The effect of a debtor successfully invoking frustration is that the
contract comes to an end by operation of the law, which also excludes a
damages claim. However, as already seen in Chapter 11 where the claim for
performance was discussed, the boundaries of frustration are very limited.
Frustration exists in cases of impossibility of performance because of the
destruction of an essential element of the contract (such as the music hall in
Taylor v Caldwell) or because of the death of a party who needs to perform
personally (such as an employee). It also exists when performance is in prin-
ciple possible, but nevertheless pointless (as in Krell v Henry). The authorita-
tive criterion formulated by Radcliffe LJ in Davis Contractors Ltd v Fareham
Urban District Council (1956) is the following:
Frustration occurs whenever the law recognises that, without default of either
party, a contractual obligation has become incapable of being performed because
the circumstances in which performance is called for would render it a thing
radically different from that which was undertaken by the contract.
Because it is rare that a claim for frustration succeeds, parties often allocate
the risk themselves by including a force majeure clause in their contract. But
there is still another way in which the harsh position of English law is eased.
Just as in French law, not all contracts require a party to achieve a certain
result. English law is happy to accept that the obligations of doctors, lawyers
and other advisers are only to use reasonable care and skill. Lord Denning
put it like this in Greaves & Co v Baynham Meikle & Partners (1975):
The surgeon does not warrant that he will cure the patient. Nor does the solicitor
warrant that he will win the case. But, when a dentist agrees to make a set of false
teeth for a patient, there is an implied warranty that they will fit his gums (. . .).
damages can be found in the Arts. 1217 (that conveniently lists the available
remedies) and 1231-1 CC, §§ 280, 286 BGB, Art. 6:74 BW, as well as in
English common law.
In French law a claim for damages can only be brought if the debtor is in
French law
default (en demeure). The creditor puts the other party in default by sending
a formal notice (a sommation by a bailiff) or a clear letter demanding that
the debtor performs, but this is not necessary in cases where the contract
itself already indicates a particular time for performance or states that perfor-
mance must take place immediately. A notice is obviously also unnecessary if
it would be futile, as in the case of the debtor already indicating that he is not
going to perform or being simply unable to do so. All this follows from the
Arts 1139 and 1146 Code Civil:
Art. 1231 CC: ‘Unless non-performance is permanent, damages are only due if
the debtor has previously been put on notice to perform (mise en demeure) his
obligation within a reasonable time.’
Art. 1344 CC: ‘A debtor is put on notice to perform (mise en demeure) either by
formal demand (sommation) or an act which gives sufficient warning, or, if this is
provided for by the contract, by the mere fact that the obligation is enforceable.’
(1) If the debtor, following a warning notice (Mahnung) from the creditor that is
made after performance is due, fails to perform, he is in default (Verzug) as a result
of the warning notice. Bringing an action for performance and serving a demand
for payment in summary debt proceedings for recovery of debt have the same
effect as a warning notice.
(2) There is no need for a warning notice if
1. a period of time according to the calendar has been specified,
2. performance must be preceded by an event and a reasonable period of time
for performance has been specified in such a way that it can be calculated,
starting from the event, according to the calendar,
3. the obligor seriously and definitively refuses performance,
4. for special reasons, weighing the interests of both parties, the immediate
commencement of default is justified.
(…)
This means that the debtor must be in default (Verzug) before damages
for delay can be claimed. This default comes about by way of a notice
(Mahnung) and a debtor who then still does not perform. This notice
is simply sent to remind the debtor that he is to perform. It does not
have to meet any form, although the notice will in practice always be
written (by letter or e-mail). Sometimes a notice is not needed, in par-
ticular if a time for performance has been fixed according to the calendar
(‘Delivery before 15 November’, ‘Payment within two weeks after deliv-
ery’). This is in line with the French Code and with the old legal maxim
of dies interpellat pro homine (‘an agreed upon day warns instead of the
creditor’).
The other type of damages mentioned in § 280 BGB are damages in lieu of
performance. Claiming these will lead to loss of the right to performance.
Section III of this provision distinguishes between three situations that all
have their own corresponding provision in the code. First, § 283 refers to the
case in which performance is impossible or where the debtor simply refuses
to perform. It is quite logical that no further requirement needs to be met in
this case: the creditor can claim his expectation interest, unless of course the
debtor proves that the non-performance was not attributable to him. § 283
BGB: ‘If, under § 275 (1) to (3), the debtor is not obliged to perform, the
creditor may, if the requirements of § 280 (1) are satisfied, demand damages
in lieu of performance. (…)’
Second, § 281 BGB sets an additional requirement for damages in lieu of per-
formance in case of delay or defective performance. In that case, the creditor
must first have fixed, without success, a reasonable period for performance or
for remedying the defective one.
§ 281 BGB: (1) To the extent that the debtor does not render the due
performance or does not render the performance as owed, the creditor may, subject
to the requirements of § 280 (1), demand damages in lieu of performance, if he has
without result set a reasonable period for the obligor for performance or cure. (…)
(2) Setting a period for performance may be dispensed with if the debtor seriously
and definitively refuses performance or if there are special circumstances which,
after the interests of both parties are weighed, justify the immediate assertion of a
claim for damages.
(3) If the nature of the breach of duty is such that setting a period of time is out of
the question, a warning notice (Abmahnung) is given instead.
(4) The claim for performance is excluded as soon as the creditor has demanded
damages in lieu of performance.
Third, § 282 BGB allows the creditor to claim damages in lieu of perfor-
mance if the debtor has violated a so-called ancillary duty and the creditor
can no longer reasonably be expected to accept performance. § 282
BGB
states to this effect: ‘If the debtor breaches a duty under § 241 (2), the credi-
tor may, if the requirements of § 280 (1) are satisfied, demand damages in
lieu of performance if he can no longer reasonably be expected to accept
performance by the debtor.’
What the German code means by an ancillary duty is the type of obliga-
tion that follows from the contract although the parties have not explicitly
discussed it and that does not affect the performance as such. A common
example is that of the painter who paints the interior of a house in an excellent
way, but who damages all kinds of objects in the house in the process (a vase
on day one, a door on day two and the television on day three). This is a good
reason for the creditor to lose all reliance on the painter’s ability to continue
work without causing further damage to his property, which then allows him
claim damages in lieu of performance (and terminate the contract).
Dutch law also requires that the debtor be in default before damages can
be claimed. It is again logical that default is not required if performance is
impossible, but if the debtor can still perform or repair his previous defec-
tive performance the creditor is in principle obliged to send a notice to the
debtor giving him a reasonable period to perform. Art. 6:82 (1) BW states
to this effect: ‘The debtor is in default when he is held liable for his non-
performance by a written notice in which he is granted a reasonable period of
time during which he still may perform, and he nevertheless fails to perform
within that period.’ As in French and German law, a notice is not needed if a
time for performance was fixed in the contract (Art. 6:83 BW).
BOX 12.1
English law, finally, does not require a notice to put the debtor in default and
English law
to exercise a remedy. In line with the more strict English approach towards
contractual obligations, the expiration of the time affixed for performance
is reason enough to be able to claim damages. If no time is fixed for per-
formance, performance must take place within a reasonable time. Practice,
however, shows that any sensible party – in England and elsewhere – will first
fix an additional period for performance before resorting to the far going step
of pursuing a legal remedy (if at all: see Box 12.1).
The question that the law must answer is how the creditor is best compen-
sated for his loss. If the suffered loss is caused by delayed or defective per-
formance or consists of collateral damage, as illustrated by the examples
above, this is usually not too difficult to establish. These damages are usually
claimed next to the normal performance. But what if the creditor is no longer
interested in performance and decides to terminate the contract? For this
type of situation lawyers often distinguish between two types of ‘interest’ of
the creditor: the expectation interest and the reliance interest.
As noted earlier a claim for damages in lieu of performance should put the
creditor as closely as possible to the position in which it would have been if
the contract had been duly performed (cf. Art. 9:502 PECL). This expecta-
Expectation tion interest (or ‘positive’ or ‘performance interest’) protects the expecta-
interest tions the creditor had when he entered into the contract, in particular the
expectation to make a profit with the contract. But the creditor could also be
interested in claiming his so-called ‘reliance interest’ (‘negative’ interest). In
that case the creditor’s interest is to be put into the position he was in before
Reliance the contract was made. The creditor may have changed his position in reli-
interest ance on the other party’s promise, for example by incurring costs to conclude
the contract, or by already starting the performance (hiring an employee,
buying materials to construct a house, etc.). While the expectation interest
thus puts the creditor in the position as if the contract is duly performed,
the reliance interest places him into the position as if the contract was never
concluded at all. A contracting party usually has the choice between claiming
either of these two interests.
In this example the expectation and reliance interest are the same because
the paid price is identical to the market value. But this need not be the case.
If Rose has made a good bargain and the flower bulbs only had a value of €17
euro, Boris’s expectation interest would be €17 and he would only be able
to claim €7 per bag (the expected value of €17 minus the real value of €10).
In this case, Boris could better claim his reliance interest, which naturally
remained the same: the paid price (€20) minus the received value (€10),
which equals €10. If, on the other hand, the contract was to Boris’s advantage
because the real value of the flower bulbs was higher than the contract price
(say €23 per bag), Boris would certainly claim the expectation interest of €13
per bag (the value of €23 minus the paid price of €10). It thus depends on
how advantageous the contract to each of the parties is whether one is better
off claiming expectation or reliance damages.
2. Causation
A second limitation to a damages claim lies in the requirement that the
damage must have been caused by the non-performance. It is obvious why
the law would require such causation: the debtor cannot be held responsible
for losses that he did not cause. However, the question whether there is a
legally relevant causal lien between breach and damage is not always easy
to answer. If my taxi to Amsterdam airport is late and I consequently miss
my flight to Rome, a whole range of events can follow from this. Not only
will I have to take the next flight at an extra cost to be paid to the airline, I
also have to buy myself drinks and dinner while waiting. I may get robbed at
the airport. I could also miss an important appointment in Rome at which
I expected to conclude a contract that would have made me €100,000 in
profits. I go bankrupt as a result of missing this deal, which leads to my wife
leaving me. The subsequent divorce makes me so depressed that I end up
in a hospital and lose my job. Now, all these events are ‘caused’ by the non-
performance of the taxi company: had the taxi been on time, all this would
(most probably) not have happened. But the law certainly does not allow me
to claim compensation for all these events. This is because the legal concept
of causation is different from the one used in physics or normal life. German
lawyers speak about ‘adequate’ causation, Dutch lawyers about ‘reasonable’
causation, French lawyers limit compensation to the ‘immediate and direct’
consequences of the breach, and English law asks whether the damage is not
too ‘remote.’ All these expressions aim to denote a similar thing: it must be
reasonable to hold the debtor liable for the damage.
In the above example I will be able to claim the costs of rescheduling to a later
flight and possibly the reasonable costs of a dinner as the loss that the taxi
company could reasonably foresee, but not any of the more remote losses.
Factors other than foreseeability are also likely to play a role when establish-
Factors
ing a causal link between the non-performance and the damage. Article 9:503
PECL explicitly mentions the factor that the breach is intentional or grossly
negligent. If A, as the organiser of a major art fair, hires B to erect stands and
a week before the opening of the event B demands an increase of the contract
price, which A refuses, this may lead to extended liability of A towards the
various art dealers aiming to exhibit at the fair. Some art dealers may hold A
liable for lost opportunities to sell. Even though this type of damage was not
foreseeable for B, he may still be liable for these damages because of the fact
that the breach was intentional. This would have been different if the reason
for not erecting the stands was because of a lack of skilled employees. A must
still bear the risk for this, leading to attributable non-performance, but he is
then no longer liable for any unforeseeable losses.
3. Non-pecuniary loss
A third point of interest is whether only financial loss (such as economic loss
and medical costs in case of physical harm) can be compensated in case of
non-performance, or also so-called non-pecuniary loss. Non-pecuniary loss
(or immaterial damage) cannot be undone with money and is therefore dif-
ficult to quantify. The photo shop that I asked to digitise my wedding photos
accidentally puts them in the shredder, or the veterinarian I asked to vac-
cinate my six-year old dog for rabies kills it when the assistant hands her a
needle with way too much of the vaccine. In both cases my material damages
are low (no one would have wanted to buy my photos and my dog was a
mongrel with low-market value), but I am obviously angry, devastated and
hurt. Should I therefore be able to claim non-pecuniary damages (préjudice
moral, Schmerzensgeld, smartengeld) for mental distress? Unlike their col-
leagues in the United States, European courts (and legislators) are reluctant
to allow this: no matter how much distress the breach of contract is causing,
money is not going to make this good. In addition, there is the fear of a liti-
gation culture: if any form of inconvenience or disappointment would be a
reason for a damages claim, the courts would be flooded with claimants. This
explains why non-pecuniary damages are only allowed in a limited number of
cases and why the awards are usually not very high.
The type of contracts for which courts are often willing to recognise that
Pleasure
non-pecuniary damages must be paid in case of non-performance are con-
contracts tracts of which the main purpose is pleasure, relaxation and peace of mind.
The distress of having lost one’s wedding photographs surely falls into this
category: the whole aim of having a photographer take pictures, or to have
them digitised, is the pleasure of looking at the photographs in the hopefully
many years that the marriage will last. If the taxi does not show up to get the
passenger to a concert of the Rolling Stones, the passenger cannot only claim
the money he spent on the ticket, but also a fair sum of damages to compen-
sate him for his disappointment of not attending the performance. In the
English case of Farley v Skinner (2001), Mr. Farley had bought a house in the
countryside after retirement. The house was 20 km from Gatwick airport,
but a surveyor had advised him that the house was unlikely to be affected by
any noise. After moving in, Mr. Farley discovered that reality was very differ-
ent: airplanes tended to circle above the house in case of congestion. He was
awarded £10,000 for the distress and inconvenience of the noise. The court
acknowledged that this was not a contract whose only object was pleasure,
relaxation and peace of mind (Mr. Farley also simply needed a place to live),
but the peace and quiet of the countryside was surely an important reason for
him to buy the house.
It is no surprise that many court cases on non-pecuniary loss deal with spoilt
holidays. What if one books a first-class seat on the train from Brussels to
Saint-Raphael on the warmest day of the year, but the air-conditioning and
water supply on the train fail and the staff tell the passengers that the train
will not go any further than Metz and that they should find their own way to
the Cote d’Azur? Courts would not find it difficult to allow non-pecuniary
damages. The best-known holiday case is Simone Leitner v Tui Deutschland
CJEU (2002), decided by the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU). The
Austrian family Leitner had booked a two-week, all-inclusive holiday to a
Turkish holiday resort. After one week of unspoilt holiday pleasure, 10-year-
old Simone Leitner (together with many other hotel guests) started to show
symptoms of Salmonella poisoning due to the food offered in the resort. Her
parents had to look after her for the rest of the holiday. The parents brought
a claim against TUI for loss of holiday pleasure. Austrian law had until then
not recognised a claim for non-pecuniary loss for breach of contract. But it
had, as every other European Member State, implemented the EU Directive
on package travel (now Directive 2015/2302). This directive states that
the retailer of a package travel is liable in damages to the consumer for the
proper performance of the contract. This raised the question whether such
‘damages’ could also include a claim for lost holiday pleasure. The CJEU held
that it did, meaning that immaterial damages for breach of a package travel
contract must now in principle be allowed in any EU Member State. Article
9:501 (2) PECL goes much further than this and firmly states for breach
of any type of contract: ‘(2) The loss for which damages are recoverable
includes: (a) non-pecuniary loss (…)’
D. Damages clauses
It has been seen many times before in this book that contract law often only
provides default rules. Within the limits set by mandatory law parties can
make their own clauses if they believe this better suits their interests. The
Two types of such damages clauses can be distinguished. First, the sum speci-
Liquidated fied in the contract can be based on a real assessment of what the likely
damages damage will be in case of non-performance. The big advantage of such a liq-
uidated damages clause (or agreed damages clause) is not only that the creditor
no longer needs to prove what its actual damage is, but also that parties know
in advance for which amount they are liable in case of breach. It does not
matter that the real loss turns out to be higher or lower. If A agrees to build
a house for B and to finish the work before 1 June, the contract can provide
that A has to pay €500 for each week of delay. Consequently, if A completes
the house on 29 June B can claim €2,000 as agreed damages (even if B’s actual
loss is greater or smaller). The law accepts these clauses as valid. Second,
parties can agree on a specified sum to be paid in case of non-performance as
an inducement to a party not to breach the contract. In such a penalty clause
the sum is not a reasonable pre-estimate of the likely damages, but a much
Penalty clause higher amount. A penalty clause thus does two things: not only does it allow
the parties to avoid the difficult calculation of the real damages (as in liqui-
dated damages clauses), but it also serves as a way to pressure the debtor to
perform.
It is clear that a penalty clause can lead to excessive liability and must there-
fore be looked at with some suspicion. For example, if a contract for the
supply of an academic gown (price: €1,000) stipulates that €20,000 must
be paid in case the customer refuses to pay the price and take delivery of
the gown, this is a highly disproportionate sanction. It is likely that a much
lower penalty would be sufficient to coerce the buyer to perform. This is why
the law is reluctant to accept just any penalty clause as valid. Under English
law, for example, only liquidated damage clauses are valid. Penalty clauses
will not be enforced because the courts do not see punishment of a party
in breach as a purpose of contract law. However, this does not mean that a
damages clause cannot validly aim to deter the debtor from breaching the
contract. In the case of ParkingEye v Beavis (2015), a car park had charged Mr.
Beavis £85 for overstaying, by almost an hour, his two hours of free parking.
Even though this was not a reasonable pre-estimate of the likely damages, the
Supreme Court still found this clause valid. It considered that a stipulated
(1) Where the contract provides that a party who fails to perform is to pay a
specified sum to the aggrieved party for such non-performance, the aggrieved party
shall be awarded that sum irrespective of its actual loss.
(2) However, despite any agreement to the contrary the specified sum may be
reduced to a reasonable amount where it is grossly excessive in relation to the loss
resulting from the non-performance and the other circumstances.
Relational contracts
Non-performance
Attributability of non-performance
Force majeure
Obligation to achieve a result and obligation to use best efforts
Absolute contracts
Frustration
Force majeure clause
Notice
Second chance to perform
Default of debtor
Types of damages
Expectation and reliance interest
Causation
Non-pecuniary loss
Liquidated damages clause
Penalty clause
FURTHER READING
– Hugh Beale et al, Cases, Materials and Text on Contract Law, Ius Commune Casebooks for the
Common Law of Europe, 3rd ed., Oxford (Hart Publishing) 2019, Chapter 26.
– Lon L. Fuller and William R. Perdue, ‘The Reliance Interest in Contract Damages’, Yale LJ 46
(1936), 52 ff.
– Charles J. Goetz and Robert E. Scott, ‘Liquidated Damages, Penalties, and the Just
Compensation Principle: Some Notes on an Enforcement Model and a Theory of Efficient
Breach’, Columbia Law Review 77 (1977), 554 ff.
– Ole Lando and Hugh Beale (eds.), Principles of European Contract Law Parts I and II, The
Hague (Kluwer) 2000, Chapter 9.
– Stewart Macaulay, ‘An Empirical View of Contract’, Wisconsin Law Review (1985), 465 ff.
– Ian R. Macneil, ‘Relational Contract: What We Do and Do Not Know’, Wisconsin Law Review
(1985), 483 ff.
– Ewan McKendrick, Contract Law, 12th ed., Basingstoke (Palgrave Macmillan) 2017, Chapters
19 and 20.
– Frances Quinn, Elliott and Quinn’s Contract Law, 12th ed., Harlow (Pearson) 2019, Chapters 14
and 15.
– G.H. Treitel, Remedies for Breach of Contract, Oxford (Oxford University Press) 1988.
– Reinhard Zimmermann, ‘Breach of Contract and Remedies under the New German Law of
Obligations’, Saggi, Conferenze e Seminari 48, Centro di studi e ricerche di diritto comparato e
straniero, Rome 2002, 17–27.
– Konrad Zweigert and Hein Kötz, An Introduction to Comparative Law (translated by Tony
Weir), 3rd ed., Oxford (Oxford University Press) 1998, Chapter 36.
CHAPTER OVERVIEW
Contracting parties not only have the right to claim damages for non-
performance of the contract. If the relevant criteria are met, the creditor
may also terminate a bilateral contract. This chapter lays out the require-
ments that have to be met before a claim for termination can be brought.
It will be seen that the law is reluctant to accept a claim for termination
in other cases than serious non-performance. This is because it is often in
the interest of the mal-performing debtor that the contract is upheld. This
chapter also pays attention to the defence of withholding performance,
which often precedes a claim for termination.
Fundamental
It makes sense to start with the PECL, which poses a clear limit on termina-
non- tion by requiring that the non-performance must be ‘fundamental.’ The rel-
performance evant provisions are the following:
Art. 9:301: ‘(1) A party may terminate the contract if the other party’s non-
performance is fundamental.
(2) In the case of delay the aggrieved party may also terminate the contract under
Article 8:106 (3).’
English law allows termination (in England also referred to as rescission for
English law
breach or repudiatory breach) only in case of breach of a ‘condition’. The term
‘condition’ has different meanings in the law. What is meant by it here is that
not all contractual terms are of equal importance. If you rent a house for the
holiday, the contractual term that you are allowed to make use of it during
three weeks in July is more important than the term that use of the house
includes free access to the local health club. English law makes the explicit
distinction between terms that are ‘essential’ and that, in case of breach, allow
termination (conditions) and terms that only allow a claim for damages (war-
ranties). For example, the Sale of Goods Act 1979 specifies that the implied
terms that the sold goods must be of satisfactory quality, fit for purpose and
comply with the given description are conditions (ss 12–15). These are all
terms that go ‘to the root of the contract’. Parties can of course also explicitly
agree that certain terms are of the essence, turning them into conditions that
allow termination in case of breach. Or, as was held in Hong Kong Fir Shipping
Co. v Kawasaki Kisen Kaisha (1962):
Articles 1224-1230 Code Civil form the basis for termination (résolution)
French law
in French law. The most relevant provisions, all introduced with the grand
reform of French contract law in 2016, are the following:
Art. 1224: Termination results either from the application of a termination clause,
or, where the non-performance is sufficiently serious, from notice by the creditor
to the debtor or from a judicial decision.
Art. 1225 (1): The termination clause must specify the undertakings whose non-
performance will lead to the termination of the contract.
Art. 1226: The creditor may, at his own risk, terminate the contract by notice.
Unless there is urgency, he must previously have put the debtor in default to
perform his undertaking within a reasonable time. (. . .)
The debtor may at any time bring proceedings to challenge such a termination.
The creditor must then prove the seriousness of the non-performance.
Art. 1228: The court may, according to the circumstances, recognise or declare
the termination of the contract or order its performance, with the possibility of
allowing the debtor further time to do so, or award only damages.
Art. 1224 CC provides the disappointed creditor with three options to part
with the other contracting party. First, the parties can agree on a termina-
tion clause (the clause résolutoire of Art. 1225 CC) indicating the conditions
that allow a party to terminate the contract (for example: ‘any breach’) and
preferably how to realise this (‘by letter’). It has become common practice
in commercial contracts to include such a clause, especially because the
old (pre-2016) French law made it cumbersome to terminate a contract in
any other way. Second, a party can turn to the court (Art. 1227 CC) which
will then assess whether the non-performance is serious enough to justify
termination. The court will look at the circumstances, such as the extent to
which the debtor is to blame and the loss to the creditor, and may decide
to order a less intrusive remedy than termination if it deems fit (Art. 1228
CC).
As for the third option, French law recognises that it would be highly
impractical if, in cases where the contract does not contain a termination
clause, only a court order were able to put an end to the contract. It would
Unilateral mean that the creditor would have to wait endlessly before it could get rid
termination of the defaulting debtor and conclude a cover transaction with somebody
else. Art. 1226 CC therefore also allows the creditor to terminate the con-
tract by way of notice. The protection of the non-performing party lies in
the requirement that the breach must be sufficiently serious: if not, the
debtor can successfully challenge the termination in court. This serves as
§ 323: ‘(1) If, in the case of a bilateral contract, the debtor fails to perform or does
not perform in accordance with the contract, then the creditor may terminate the
contract if he has fixed, to no avail, an additional period for performance or cure
(Frist zur Leistung).
(2) The additional period need not be fixed if
1. the debtor seriously and definitively refuses performance,
2. the debtor fails to perform by a date or within a period specified in the
contract and, in the contract, the creditor has made the continuation of his
interest in performance subject to the punctuality of that performance, or
3. there are special circumstances which, when weighing the interests of both
parties, justify immediate termination.
(3) If the nature of the breach of duty is such that it is not feasible to fix a period for
performance, a warning notice (Abmahnung) is given instead.
(…)
(5) If the debtor has performed in part, the creditor may terminate the entire
contract only if he has no interest in partial performance. If the debtor has not
performed in conformity with the contract, the creditor may not terminate the
contract if the breach of duty is trivial.
(…)’
§ 324: ‘If the debtor, in the case of a bilateral contract, breaches a duty under
§ 241 (2), the creditor may terminate the contract if he can no longer reasonably be
expected to uphold the contract.’
The most interesting aspect of these provisions lies in what they do not say:
a fundamental non-performance (as in the PECL) or breach of a condition
(as in English law) is not required. Nor does § 323 BGB require intervention
by the court: the creditor can terminate the contract himself. And yet, also
German law is eager to avoid termination for minor violations of the contract.
A minimum threshold (much lower than the one provided by the PECL,
English and French law) can be found in the second sentence of paragraph
(5): the breach may not be ‘trivial.’ But the real way in which the BGB limits
termination is by summing up the types of situations in which a good ground
for termination exists. Apart from the case mentioned in § 324 (that mirrors
the damages claim of § 282 BGB in case of an ancillary duty, discussed in
Chapter 12 subsection B) and the case in which performance is impossible
(which under German law leads to automatic release from the contract: §§
326 and 275 BGB; Art. 9:303 (4) PECL provides for the same), the three
situations mentioned in § 323 (2) BGB are familiar. The PECL, English and
French law would probably also qualify these cases as fundamental non-per-
formance, breach of a condition or a non-performance that is serious enough
in the eyes of the court.
The real innovation that § 323 BGB brings, lies in the rule that termination is
Nachfrist
allowed in case of any non-performance, provided that the debtor is given a
second chance to perform (para. (1)). We encountered this Nachfrist before
in Chapter 12 subsection B, when the claim for damages based on § 281 BGB
was discussed. § 323 mirrors § 281, albeit that in case a time was specified
for performance (a so-called Fixgeschäft) the creditor is allowed to terminate
the contract on the basis of § 323 (2) 2, while a claim for damages then still
requires a Nachfrist. The main point is that German law thus makes it pos-
sible for the creditor to terminate the contract for any less than trivial breach
by giving the debtor a second chance to perform. This is particularly useful
in case of delay or defective performance. If A is to deliver 50 mobile phones
for use by B’s employees and it is unclear at which exact date delivery is due
(in which case § 323 (2) 2 BGB would apply), or the delivered goods are
defective, all that B needs to do is set a reasonable time for A to perform and
see what happens.
Dutch law Dutch law, finally, makes it the easiest on the creditor. Art. 6:265 BW states:
1. Every non-performance of a party of one of its obligations gives the other party
the right to terminate the contract in full or in part, unless the non-performance,
given its specific nature or trivial importance, does not justify this termination and
its consequences.
2. In so far as performance is not permanently or temporarily impossible, the right
to terminate the contract only arises when the debtor is in default.
BOX 13.1
EFFICIENT BREACH
A thriving field of legal scholarship asks 25,000 widgets. I sell him the widgets and
which rules are the most economically as a result do not complete timely delivery to
efficient. Pioneered by Nobel Prize winner A, who sustains $1,000 in damages from my
Ronald Coase (1910–2013) and Guido breach. Having obtained an additional profit
Calabresi, the discipline of Law and of $1,250 on the sale to B, I am better off
Economics applies micro-economic analysis even after reimbursing A for his loss. Society
to the law. One of the best-known theories is also better off. Since B was willing to pay
in this field is that of efficient breach. This me $.15 per widget, it must mean that each
theory holds that a party should be allowed widget was worth at least $.15 to him. But
to breach (‘terminate’) a contract and pay it was worth only $.14 to A – $.10, what he
damages if doing so would be economically paid, plus $.04 ($1,000 divided by 25,000),
more efficient than performing the obliga- his expected profit. Thus the breach resulted
tions under the contract. This is a far cry in a transfer of the 25,000 widgets from a
from the view that a contract has binding lower valued to a higher valued use.’
force because morality requires it to be so. It
It is difficult to deny the logic of this
is also inconsistent with the existing law on
reasoning. The non-performance towards
when a contract can be terminated. Richard
A is efficient because everyone is better
Posner’s Economic Analysis of Law gives the
off: the promisor profits from his default
following well-known example of efficient
and the promisee is in as good a position
breach:
as he would have been in had the perfor-
‘Suppose I sign a contract to deliver 100,000 mance been rendered. The common law is
custom-ground widgets at $.10 a piece to sympathetic to the idea of efficient breach.
A, for use in his boiler factory. After I have The rule that the creditor is in principle only
delivered 10,000, B comes to me, explains entitled to damages (and not to perfor-
that he desperately needs 25,000 custom- mance) is an incentive to breach the con-
ground widgets at once since otherwise he tract if this is efficient (for example, as in
will be forced to close his pianola factory at the above case, because the seller receives
great cost, and offers me $.15 a piece for a better offer).
law assumes that a seller who receives €19,997 instead of the agreed upon
€20,000 cannot terminate, but this is an essentially different approach
to asking whether the non-performance was fundamental or serious
enough.
reason why the law also allows unilateral termination by a party. But which
requirements must the termination meet? Articles 1226 CC and 6:267 BW
state that the terminating party must send a written declaration, while the
PECL and German law provide that termination can be made by a declara-
tion in any form (Art. 9:303 (1) PECL, § 349 BGB). An English creditor
who decides to terminate (in the terminology of English law, the creditor’s
acceptance of the repudiation by the debtor) must naturally also communicate
this to the defaulting debtor. Again, no form is needed, provided that the
communication clearly and unequivocally indicates that the creditor wants
to put an end to the contract.
It was seen in Chapter 12 that in French and German law (and the same
Notice
is true for Dutch law), a damages claim can usually only be brought if the
debtor is put in default by a warning notice (mise en demeure, Mahnung)
unless this would be futile. Is such a notice also needed in case of termina-
tion? One could reason that if the breach is already serious enough to justify
termination, a formal warning to the debtor that he should perform usually
no longer makes much sense. However, this is not the existing law. French
Arts. 1225 (2) and 1226 (1) CC require in principle that the debtor is put
in default by way of notice. In German law the Nachfrist will usually replace
the notice (see, however, § 323 (3) BGB). The Dutch Art. 6:265 (2) BW
requires default (consisting of a notice unless a time was fixed for perfor-
mance) in case performance is not already impossible. This is quite under-
standable: Dutch law is lenient on the creditor and allows termination also in
case of a less serious breach.
C. Anticipatory breach
It seems obvious that a contractual remedy can only be brought in cases
where the other party fails to perform. A strict application of this rule
would imply that no termination (or damages) can be claimed before
there is actual non-performance. But what if it is clear that the debtor
will not perform or is unable to do so? It would be peculiar if the creditor
must then wait until the date that performance is due. Is the creditor then
allowed to treat the declaration or behaviour of the debtor to this effect as
a breach of contract? Although it seems strange to hold a party in breach
before performance is due, most jurisdictions make this possible by allow-
ing a so-called anticipatory breach. The following provisions are evidence
for this.
§ 323 (4) BGB: ‘The creditor may already terminate the contract before
performance is due, if it is obvious that the requirements for termination will be met.’
Art. 6:80 (1) BW: ‘The effects of a non-performance set in even before the claim
of the creditor is due:
a. if it is certain that performance will be impossible without breach;
b. if the creditor must conclude from a statement of the debtor that he will not
perform in conformity with his obligation; or
c. if the creditor has good reasons to fear that the debtor will not perform in
conformity with his obligation and the debtor does not comply with a written
notice of the creditor in which the debtor is asked to confirm, within a reasonable
time, that he is willing to perform in conformity with his obligation. The grounds
that gave the creditor good reasons to fear a non-performance of the debtor must
be mentioned in this notification.’
Art. 9:304 PECL: ‘Where prior to the time for performance by a party it is
clear that there will be a fundamental non-performance by it the other party may
terminate the contract.’
It follows from these provisions that if, for example, Mary hires Yves to reno-
vate her flat, and two months before the work is to start Yves tells Mary that
due to a busy schedule he will not be able to do the work, Mary can imme-
diately terminate the contract. English law adopts the same position. French
law, however, does not allow anticipatory breach. It is noted that jurisdictions
that allow anticipatory breach will not only permit a premature claim for ter-
mination but also for damages.
‘Remedies which are not incompatible may be combined; damages may always be
added to any of the others.’
The obvious aim that a creditor has with termination is to be freed from the
contract. It is therefore no real question what the effect of termination is
for the future: it releases both parties from their obligations to effect and to
Future receive future performance (see e.g. Art. 9:305 PECL, which speaks for all
other jurisdictions).
Past The more difficult question is what is the effect if one or both parties have
already performed part of the contract before termination. A party who
already paid the price is naturally allowed to recover the money (see e.g. Art.
9:307 PECL). But what if goods were delivered? Is the seller allowed to claim
these back and, if so, on what basis?
The rift in Europe is between jurisdictions that award the termination with
retroactive effect and those that do not. If termination has retroactive effect
(as in Italy, Spain, Bulgaria and Belgium), this means that it is as if the contract
has never been concluded. The property in the goods that a party received
automatically returns to the seller (assuming that the seller was the owner
before delivery). This is highly practical in cases where the debtor becomes
insolvent: if the seller is ‘still’ the owner, he can collect the goods from the
debtor’s home and is not bothered by claims that any other creditors may
have.
BOX 13.2
performance may recover a reasonable amount for the value of the performance to
the other party.
A final exception to the rule that termination leads to the end of the contract
Partial
is when termination is only partial. If a contract is to be performed in separate
termination parts and it is possible to apportion the non-performed part to a counter per-
formance, the creditor can terminate for only this part (cf. Art. 9:302 PECL
which in effect is an adequate description of the European common core). In
other words: a partial non-performance could justify a partial termination.
If the seller delivers 50 copies of the Swiss Civil Code instead of the agreed
upon 200 copies, this is surely a non-performance that justifies termination,
but if the buyer would like to keep the codes he received, he can terminate
the contract for the remaining 150 codes and consequently pay one-quarter
of the price. This is an easy example because the breach lies in a lesser quan-
tity than agreed upon. It is more difficult to apportion a breach as to quality
to a corresponding part of the counter performance. If the delivered bananas
do not meet the expected quality, one must assess what would have been paid
for bananas of the delivered type.
E. Withholding performance
Termination is an extreme remedy that a party will only bring if it is no
longer interested in the counterpart’s performance. This is no small thing:
parties conclude a contract to obtain a performance and the decision to
bring this contract to an end is usually a bitter disappointment. This explains
why a creditor usually prefers to postpone the moment of termination until
he is absolutely certain that the debtor is unwilling or unable to perform.
However, in a bilateral contract the mal-performing debtor is always also
a creditor and may ask for performance himself. If the landlord of an office
building refuses to repair the central heating, the tenant may want to wait to
terminate the lease and hope for better times, but the landlord will still claim
(1) A party who is to perform simultaneously with or after the other party may
withhold performance until the other has tendered performance or has performed.
The first party may withhold the whole of its performance or a part of it as may be
reasonable in the circumstances.
(2) A party may similarly withhold performance for as long as it is clear that there
will be a non-performance by the other party when the other party’s performance
becomes due.
BOX 13.3
FURTHER READING
– Hugh Beale et al, Cases, Materials and Text on Contract Law, Ius Commune Casebooks for the
Common Law of Europe, 3rd ed., Oxford (Hart Publishing) 2019, Chapter 26.
– Dagmar Coester-Waltjen, ‘The New Approach to Breach of Contract in German Law’, in:
N. Cohen and E. McKendrick, Comparative Remedies for Breach of Contract, Oxford (Hart)
2005, 135–56.
– Richard A. Posner, Economic Analysis of Law, 9th ed., New York (Wolters Kluwer) 2011,
Chapter 4.
– Frances Quinn, Elliott and Quinn’s Contract Law, 12th ed., Harlow (Pearson) 2019, Chapter 14.
– Konrad Zweigert and Hein Kötz, An Introduction to Comparative Law (translated by Tony
Weir), 3rd ed., Oxford (Oxford University Press) 1998, Chapter 36.
CHAPTER OVERVIEW
Adding a third party to the equation often makes things more exciting.
Contract law is not any different. This chapter studies a number of situa-
tions in which a person is affected by a contract although he is not a party
to it. This can be the case because he derives a right from other people’s
contracts (in case of so-called contracts for the benefit of a third party),
because he relies on an exemption clause in a contract to which he is not
a party (third-party effect of exemption clauses) or because he can sue
somebody other than his immediate party (in case of linked contracts).
This chapter also investigates whether, next to these ‘third party winners’,
the law must also recognise ‘third party losers’ who suffer a loss as a result
of a contract entered into by other people. Separate attention is paid to
agency, in which a third party is involved in the conclusion of the contract,
and assignment, which leads to the transfer of an existing right to a new
creditor.
Nothing seems more natural than only the contracting parties themselves
Privity incurring rights and obligations under the contract. If contracts are based
on the mutual consent of the parties, how could others ever be affected by
the agreement? Lawyers speak of the doctrine of privity or relativity of con-
tracts: not only can contracting parties not impose a burden on a third party,
a third party is in principle also unable to derive rights from other people’s
contracts. Art. 1199 s. 1 of the French Civil Code well reflects this line of
thinking, where it states: ‘A contract creates obligations only as between the
parties.’ Although this provision is perfectly consistent with the emphasis
that contract law puts on the party agreement, it reflects neither the needs
of commerce to sometimes benefit somebody else through the contract nor
the brutal reality in which a contract can in fact harm others. The law must
take this into account. It does so under the broad heading of ‘contracts and
third parties’, a group of highly diverse situations in which others than the
contracting parties are involved in the making of, or feel the effects of, the
contract. This chapter considers six types of such third-party involvement.
These examples make clear that the benefit to be conferred on the third party
can take a variety of forms. The broadly formulated statutory provisions in
France, Germany and England confirm this:
Art. 1205 CC: ‘A person may make a stipulation for another person.
One of the parties to a contract (the ‘stipulator’) may require a promise from the
other party (the ‘promisor’) to accomplish an act of performance for the benefit
of a third party (the ‘beneficiary’). The third party may be a future person but
must be exactly identified or must be able to be determined at the time of the
performance of the promise.’
§ 328 (1) BGB: ‘Performance to a third party may be agreed by contract with
the effect that the third party acquires the right to demand the performance
directly.’
S. 1 (1) Contracts (Rights of Third Parties) Act 1999: ‘Subject to the provisions
of this Act, a person who is not a party to a contract (a ‘third party’) may in his own
right enforce a term of the contract if –
(a) the contract expressly provides that he may, or
(b) subject to subsection (2), the term purports to confer a benefit on him.’
One characteristic of a contract for the benefit of a third party is that the
Right latter obtains an independent right against the promisor, meaning he can
claim performance as well as damages in case of breach. In the examples
above, the children, the football player and the employees obtain a right at
the moment the contract is concluded. This is important because it means
that the third party is not affected by the insolvency of the promisee, as the
right is no longer part of the promisee’s assets.
It is obvious that the promisor and promisee must have the intention to
Intention create a right for the third party. Art. 6:110 PECL confirms that in all jurisdic-
inferred tions, this intention can also be inferred from the purpose of the contract or
the circumstances of the case. In the German Denied passenger case (1985)
a tourist had booked a charter flight from Frankfurt to Santa Lucia with a
holiday tour operator, but the airline refused to give her a seat on the return
flight. She had to book another flight herself and was able to successfully
claim damages for non-performance from the airline, even though she and
the airline were not in a direct contractual relationship. The court reasoned
that it is typical for charter contracts that the individual holidaymakers are
not known at the time the airline and the charterer conclude their contract,
although the contract is clearly concluded in the interest of these individual
passengers. This justifies that the latter have a direct contractual claim against
the airline. The highest court in France went even further when it held that
a hospital patient who had received blood contaminated with syphilis could
directly sue the blood-transfusion service although this organisation had
only contracted with the hospital in which the patient was treated and not
with the unlucky patient herself. She was rightly considered a third-party
beneficiary of the contract between the hospital and the supplier of the blood
(Centre National de Transfusion Sanguine v L, 1954).
(confirmed by e.g. Art. 5.2.1 PICC and Art. II.-9:301 DCFR) realise this
through the backdoor: they hold that the third party obtains the right at
the moment the contract is formed, but he can renounce it if he wishes. An
explicit acceptance or notification is not needed. It can happen, therefore,
that a right is conferred upon a third party who does not know about the
right and only finds out later that he is able to sue the promisor.
Dutch law is the odd one out. Art. 6:253 BW requires the third party to
Dutch law accept the clause in his favour before it can be enforced (be it that this accept-
ance can be implicit). This is an exceptional requirement from a comparative
perspective. It has the distinct advantage that it is clear at which exact point in
time the right comes into being, but the doctrinal quirk of this construction
is that the beneficiary is no longer a true third party. This is indeed the posi-
tion of Dutch law: Art. 6:254 BW states that after acceptance, the beneficiary
is considered a party to the contract.
It seems obvious that the sub-contractor can rely on the exemption clause if
Himalaya the parties have formulated it in such a way that it also shields third parties
clause from liability. Inspired by the name of the ship in the court decision in
which such clauses were first accepted under English law, these contractual
provisions are usually referred to as Himalaya clauses. Such a clause could
read like this: ‘No agent or independent contractor employed by the carrier
shall be liable to the owner of the goods for any loss or damage resulting
from any act or negligence on his part while acting in the course of his
employment.’
The more interesting question is whether third parties can also invoke an
Third-party exemption clause even if they are not explicitly mentioned in it. This is what
effect most jurisdictions now accept. There is a good argument for this: the shipper
who accepts the clause as part of his contract with the carrier must under-
stand that the carrier will make use of sub-contractors, as this is the common
situation. This is also exactly the argument the Dutch Supreme Court used in
the well-known case of Securicor (1979). Bank Vlaer & Kol had agreed with
Makro wholesalers that it would come to collect the cash money at Makro
at the end of each working day. The bank subsequently contracted with the
transport firm Securicor to carry out this task. One day in November 1972,
Securicor’s employees were robbed, losing some of Makro’s daily proceeds,
and Makro filed a claim against Securicor for negligence. However, the con-
tract between Securicor and the bank contained an exemption clause to the
effect that Securicor would not be liable for any losses while performing the
contract. Even though Makro was not a party to this contract, the court held
that Securicor could invoke the exemption clause; Makro should have under-
stood that it would not be the bank itself that would collect the money and
should have realised that contracts like these typically contain exemption
clauses.
BOX 14.1
information or poorly performs its tasks pointed inheritor: a solicitor (in England) or
under the contract, such as an account- a notary public (in civil law) draws up a will,
ant or tax advisor unjustifiably declaring a but does not do so on time or as instructed,
company financially fit or a surveyor writing leading to the unfortunate result that the
an unreliable valuation report. If the infor- intended beneficiary (a third party to the
mation contained in these statements is contract between the professional and the
inaccurate, the other contracting party can testator) does not inherit. In White v Jones
surely sue for non-performance, but the (1995) the English House of Lords held
question is whether a third party (such as a that the solicitor owes a duty of care to the
bank relying on the false information when intended beneficiary, potentially leading
providing a loan) also has a claim. French, to liability in negligence (a type of tort). In
English and Dutch law would allow a claim German law, the court would hold that the
in tort, but German law regards the third contract between the notary and the testa-
party as being protected under the contract. tor has protective effect towards the third
A well-known situation is that of the disap- party.
Linked contracts
A contract seldom comes alone. As was already seen in the discussion about
the third-party effect of exemption clauses, transport contracts are often part
of a broader network of connected contracts. Other similar examples include
the many contracts required to build a supply chain in the garment industry
(see Box 1.2) or build a house. Typical for these linked contracts (groupe de
contrats, verbundene Verträge, samenhangende overeenkomsten) is that, although
they consist of different contracts among different parties, the contracts are
economically or factually connected. While the natural tendency of the law is
to treat these contracts as separate, it sometimes takes their interconnected-
ness into account. Two questions can illustrate this. The first one is whether
a party to a contract can be held liable for a lack of conformity by a party in
another (linked) contract. The second is whether a contract can share the
fate of another contract in the sense that the end of one (through termination
or withdrawal) automatically leads to the end of another.
Any product being sold is likely to be the subject of many individual con-
Direct action
tracts before it reaches its end user. The manufacturer can sell its products to
a foreign importer, the importer to a distributor, the distributor to a retailer
and the retailer to a consumer. The first question is whether a party can bring
a claim against someone further up or down the chain than his immediate
contracting partner. Only a few jurisdictions accept such a contractual short-
cut. The best-known example is French law, which allows a so-called action
directe of the final purchaser against the original manufacturer or subsequent
Good policy arguments exist in favour of this direct liability of the manufac-
Policy
turer. In the great majority of cases, the seller is nothing but a mere supplier
arguments who is unable to influence the quality of the product. It then makes much
more sense to hold the manufacturer liable. This also puts the incentive
where it belongs: if the goal of contractual liability is to incentivise a person
to minimise possible defects, the manufacturer is the right party to target.
This explains why in recent decades other jurisdictions, including Finland,
Spain and the Netherlands (cf. Art. 7:25 BW), also introduced liability for
a lack of conformity of a party further up the chain. A European variation of
this direct action can be found in Art. 18 of EU Directive 2019/771 on Sale
of Goods, a provision that is rather useless as it leaves Member States the
freedom to implement it or not.
The second question is whether the end of one contract can automatically
Shared fate
imply the end of another contract. A standard situation is when a consumer
buys a car or another valuable object and at the same time concludes a second
contract with a money lender to finance the purchase, possibly with the
lender directly paying the purchase price to the seller, and with this financing
option being offered by the seller on behalf of the lender at the time of the
purchase. What if the buyer discovers major defects shortly after delivery and
successfully avoids the sale for mistake or terminates it for non-performance?
It would be highly undesirable if the buyer would then still be bound to the
credit agreement. Courts around Europe therefore held that in such a situa-
tion, the credit agreement shares the fate of the sales contract, even though it
is concluded with another party. Legislators enacted similar rules for cases in
which a consumer exercises his withdrawal right, as is for example apparent
from Art. 15 s. 1 EU Directive 2008/48 on consumer credit:
Third-party losers
In the three situations mentioned above, persons stand to benefit from being
a third party to the contract: they are ‘third party winners.’ A key question
is whether contract law also allows a claim to ‘third party losers’, those who
suffer a loss as a result of a contract entered into by other people. The tra-
ditional answer is that a contract can never impose a direct duty on a third
party to do something: contracting parties cannot force someone without
his consent to send them flowers every morning or build a wall around their
gardens. However, if one looks beyond legal doctrine, to the reality of con-
tract practice, it becomes abundantly clear that individual contracts can
affect other people in many different ways. The mere fact that I buy a paint-
ing and hang it on my wall deprives many others from enjoying it. When two
business partners agree to open a restaurant, they are likely to lure custom-
ers away from existing eateries in the area. In the same vein, my decision to
buy a Volkswagen or any other car will increase pollution to the detriment
of others. It was seen before (Chapter 8) that parties must to some extent
take into account each other’s interests; however, the law generally does not
require parties to also take into account the interest of third parties. The high
threshold here is that of liability in tort: only the intentional or negligent
infringement of a party’s interest will merit a claim in damages.
A policy question legislators and courts will have to answer in the years to
CSR
come is whether this view of contractual liability is not too narrow in case of
gross violations of labour standards in the supply chain or threats to the envi-
ronment. In one American case, employees of Wal-Mart Stores Inc.’s foreign
suppliers in China, Bangladesh and Indonesia filed a claim against Wal-Mart
to improve local labour conditions. They claimed that they could benefit, as
third parties, from the contract concluded between Wal-Mart and its suppli-
ers, requiring the suppliers to comply with set labour standards. The claim
failed: even though Wal-Mart was eager to advertise to its home market that
it only used responsible suppliers, the California Court of Appeal found it
impossible to regard its foreign suppliers’ employees as third-party benefi-
ciaries of the standards Wal-Mart obliged its suppliers to use (Doe v Wal-Mart
Stores, 2009). This is an exemplary application of existing contract law prin-
ciples, but the question is whether these principles should not be adapted to
better accommodate the externalities the contract entails. One argument in
favour of this is that if a multinational company profits from the use of cheap
labour within the supply chain, it must also be responsible for the working
circumstances of the labourers employed by its sub-contractors. This argu-
ment is even stronger if the company publicly adheres to a code of corpo-
rate social responsibility (CSR) on compliance with fair labour standards.
Fresh thinking is required to translate this argument into a legal rule on when
and how to involve the effects of contracts outside of the direct circle of the
parties.
Agency
Modern economic life requires that contracts be made with the help of
others. As soon as an entrepreneur no longer has the time or energy to buy
all the equipment he needs himself, to carry out his own negotiations or to
sit at the till of the supermarket he owns, the only way to expand his business
is to find people willing to act as intermediaries and conclude contracts for
him. The law facilitates this by recognising that not all persons involved in
the conclusion of a contract are in fact considered contracting parties. Shop
managers, directors, CEOs and cashiers are only some examples of people
acting on behalf of other (usually legal) persons. In addition, one can com-
mission someone to perform a specific task on one’s behalf, as is the case if I
pay a friend on holiday in La Paz to buy me a copy of the Bolivian civil code.
In the English language, the broad term ‘agency’ is used to refer to all cases
in which one person (the principal) agrees that another person (the agent)
contracts on his behalf with a third party.
Civil law recognises two different ways in which one can act on behalf of
Civil law
another person. One method is to simply ask an intermediary (B) to con-
tract himself (‘in his own name’) with a counterpart (C) and then provide
the principal (A) with the benefits of the contract. B himself is then bound
towards the party C, but on the basis of the agreement between A and B, B
also is bound to provide A with the economic benefit of his transaction with
C. The sales commission agreement is the best-known example of this so-
called indirect representation. A commission agent (such as a broker trading
commodities) typically acts in his own name, but for the account of another.
Thus, the agent who receives an order from his client to purchase oranges will
buy these himself (possibly with the money provided in advance) and subse-
quently transfer the oranges to his client. Article 3:102 (2) PECL describes
this situation as ‘where an intermediary acts on instructions and on behalf of,
but not in the name of, a principal.’
Art. 1154 s. 1 CC: Where a representative acts within his authority and in the
name and on behalf of the person whom he represents, only the latter is bound to
the undertaking so contracted.
§ 164 s. 1 BGB: A declaration of intent which a person makes within the scope of
his own power of representation in the name of a principal takes effect directly in
favour of and against the principal. (. . .)
This explains why in civil law, the intermediary is not regarded as a real third
party: he is automatically eliminated from the relationship between the
principal and his counterpart. This obviously requires that the counterpart
knows that the agent is not acting in his own name (regardless of whether the
principal’s identity is revealed at the time the agent acts or later). This repre-
sentation often follows from the circumstances: if one buys something in a
shop, one can safely assume that the employee at the counter does not intend
to bind himself, but only the shop owner. The same is true for the manager
representing her company. In other cases, the agent will explicitly mention
that he is not acting in his own name but was given the explicit power to act
in the name of somebody else. This power is what the Germans refer to as
Vollmacht (cf. § 166 (2) BGB) and the French as procuration (cf. Art. 1984
CC): the full power of the agent to bind his principal. This authority often
coincides with a duty to act (as in case of mandate), but this need not be the
case. The aforementioned commission agent will have to follow the instruc-
tions of the commissioning party, but he does not have the power to act in his
name. Reversely, my wife may have given me the authority to use her credit
card, and although I am much tempted to make use of this power, I am not
obliged to.
It is obvious that the agent himself cannot create this so-called apparent
authority (mandat apparent, Rechtsscheinsvollmacht, schijn van vertegenwoor
dingsbevoegdheid). The counterpart needs to have acted in reasonable reli-
ance on a declaration or conduct of the principal. This is not difficult to
establish if the powers given to the agent are laid out in a publicly accessible
document, as in the case of directors of legal persons whose competences
are registered with the Chamber of Commerce. The counterpart is sup-
posed to know about this information and can therefore never legitimately
rely on a middleman exceeding his competences. However, there is abun-
dant case law showing that things are not always so clear. What if the prin-
cipal does not react to a confirmation of the order by the counterpart who
acted with an unauthorised agent? And what if one lets someone work at
the office, or provides someone with stationery containing the company’s
letterhead? Courts around the world have indeed held that the principal
remaining silent or putting someone in a certain position can induce a rea-
sonable person to think that the agent had the necessary authority to bring
about a contract.
Assignment
A party to a contract not only can decide to provide a third person with an
Transfer of
enforceable right (contracts for the benefit of a third party) or involve an
right intermediary in the conclusion of the contract (agency), it can also transfer
an already existing contractual right to somebody else. Assignment (cession,
Abtretung, cessie) is the transfer of a right (e.g. to the purchase money in a
sales contract) by one person (the assignor) to another (assignee), result-
ing in the assignee being able to claim from the debtor (debtor cessus). If A
sells his car to B for €3,000, A can assign his right to payment (enforceable
against B) to C in a separate contract between A and C. C is not a third-party
beneficiary or an agent, but can claim payment from B simply because he
has taken the place of A as the creditor. B is no longer allowed to pay A: in
case he does, he is not discharged of his obligation and must pay a second
time (to C).
is accomplished only when the new creditor can claim from the debtor, and
the debtor will only be discharged of his obligation if he pays the new credi-
tor. In order to achieve this consequence, it is essential that the debtor be
informed about the change of creditor. Next to the written form for the con-
tract between assignor and assignee in French (Art. 1322 CC) and Dutch
law (Art. 3:94 s. 1 BW), notification of the debtor is therefore a universally
accepted requirement for the assignment to be completed. The requirement
can be found in Art. 1324 CC, §§ 407, 409 BGB and Art. 3:94 BW as well as
in S. 136 of the English Law of Property Act 1925.
On the other hand, one can consider the assignment as completed when the
Between
right to claim has left the assets of the assignor and the assignee is the new
assignor and ‘owner’ of the claim. This other meaning of ‘completed’ is important because
assignee of the role that assignment plays in economic life, where it is often used as
a means to provide security to creditors. The wealth of a company is to a
large extent made up of claims. A moneylender (such as a bank) is usually
only willing to provide credit if these claims serve as collateral security for
payment of the debt. The moneylender will therefore require these claims
to be assigned so that it can turn towards the company’s debtors in case the
company is unable to pay back the loan. However, both assignor and assignee
have an interest in not having to inform the debtor about the assignment:
this is not only impractical in the typical case of an assignor having hundreds
of debtors, but it could also lead to doubts in the market about the solvency
of the assignor. This explains why several legislators hold that assignment is
already complete between assignor and assignee at the time of conclusion
of the contract, without the need for notification of the debtor. While this is
even the main rule for assignment in German (§ 398 BGB) and French (Art.
1323 CC) law, Dutch law accepts – next to the assignment, with notification
of the debtor – a so-called ‘silent assignment’ (stille cessie) in Art. 3:94 s. 3 BW.
It requires either a notary deed or a private deed registered at the tax office.
Only S. 136 of the English Law of Property Act 1925 still requires a written
notice sent to the debtor before the assignment is valid between assignor and
assignee, but this requirement is not important in practice now that the trans-
fer is valid in equity even before notification. Art. 11:202 (1) PECL thus has
no difficulty in stating the following provision as the common core:
BOX 14.2
FACTORING
Assignment plays an important role in com- in this type of work. This explains why
merce, in particular in the financing of a factoring is not only popular among busi-
company’s daily business. One often-used nesses in need of immediate finance, but
technique is factoring, which is a contract also among healthcare providers such as
in which the assignor sells a large amount doctors and dentists – rarely enthusiasts of
(or all) of its claims to a factoring company paperwork.
(factor) at a discount. This allows a The success of factoring stands and falls
company to obtain immediate cash. In par- with the possibility to assign bulk claims.
ticular, small and medium-sized enterprises The instrument would not be very useful if
may lack the cash flow to run their busi- each claim on an individual debtor should
ness while waiting for payment from their have to be separately assigned. It was
debtors. If they do not wish, or are unable, already seen in the main text that legisla-
to borrow money from a bank, they can sell tors facilitate this by relaxing the notifica-
all their present and future claims (known tion requirement. They also allow for bulk
as ‘receivables’ in American terms) to the assignment and even have come to accept
factor. Because the factor buys these claims that the assignment can cover future claims
below their value (that is, the amount due without the need for a new act of transfer
by the debtor), it can make a profit when every time a claim comes into existence. The
collecting the claim. only requirement is that the future rights
Obtaining finance is not the only are identifiable as rights to which the act
reason a business may transfer its claims of assignment relates (cf. Art. III.–5:106
to a factor. Apart from the fact that it also DCFR and Art. 5 of the 1988 UNIDROIT
conveniently shifts the risk of defaulting Convention on International Factoring). For
debtors away from the assignor, factoring example, if metal manufacturer M supplies
allows the assignor to focus on his core pipes to retailers, it can effectively assign
business. He no longer needs to worry factoring company F all its future claims to
about administration and credit control and payment as listed in schedules regularly sent
can leave the sending of invoices and col- to F. This is sufficient to make the claims
lection of claims to the factor specialising identifiable.
Undisclosed agency
Apparent authority
Assignment
Factoring
FURTHER READING
– Hugh Beale et al, Cases, Materials and Text on Contract Law, Ius Commune Casebooks for the
Common Law of Europe, 3rd ed., Oxford (Hart Publishing) 2019, Chapters 31-33.
– Michael Joachim Bonell, ‘Agency’, in Arthur Hartkamp et al (eds.), Towards a European Civil
Code, 4th ed. Nijmegen (Ars Aequi) 2011, Chapter 22.
– Jan Hallebeek and Harry Dondorp (eds.), Contracts for a Third-Party Beneficiary: A Historical
and Comparative Account, Leiden-Boston (Martinus Nijhoff) 2008.
– Hein Kötz, European Contract Law Vol. 1 (translated by Tony Weir and Gill Mertens), 2nd ed.,
Oxford (Oxford University Press) 1997, Chapters 16–18.
– Ilse Samoy and Marco B.M. Loos (eds.), Linked Contracts, Cambridge (Intersentia) 2012
– Hendrik Verhagen and Laura Macgregor, ‘Agency and Representation’, in: Jan M. Smits, Elgar
Encyclopedia of Comparative Law, 2nd ed., Cheltenham; Northampton Mass. (Edward Elgar)
2012, Chapter 3.
– Stefan Vogenauer, ‘Contract in Favour of a Third Party’, in Jürgen Basedow et al (eds.), The
Max Planck Encyclopedia of European Private Law, Vol. I, Oxford (Oxford University Press)
2012, 385.
Acceptance
The unconditional agreement of a party with the terms of an offer, bringing
about the contract.
Agency
A relationship under which one party (the agent) agrees to act as an interme-
diary to conclude contracts on behalf of the other party (the principal).
Apparent authority
The situation where a person is treated as having granted authority to an
apparent agent if this person induced a third party to reasonably believe that
the agent had been granted authority to enter into a transaction.
Assignment
Transfer of a right by one person (the assignor) to another person (the
assignee), resulting in the assignee being able to claim from the debtor.
Assumpsit
A form of action at common law that gives a right to sue someone for damages
who claims that a contract has been breached.
Avoidable contract
A contract that suffers from such a defect that it allows one party or both
parties to invalidate it. See also: void contract.
Avoidance
Invoking a ground of invalidity of the contract.
B2B contract
Business-to-business contract.
B2C contract
Business-to-consumer contract.
Barter
A contract under which each party agrees to transfer the ownership of a good
in return for receiving the ownership of another good.
Bilateral contract
A contract under which each party assumes an obligation in order to obtain
the performance to which the other party obliges itself. See also: unilateral
contract.
C2C contract
Contract between two individuals not acting as a business.
Canon law
The law of the Catholic Church.
Capacity
The ability of a natural person to enter into a valid legal transaction.
Causa
A proper reason to be bound to a promise, codified as a requirement for the
valid formation of a contract in most civil codes in the French legal tradition.
Caveat emptor
A maxim under English law literally meaning ‘let the buyer beware’: the
buyer must investigate the goods himself in the absence of a duty of the seller
to volunteer information. The maxim applies when buyer and seller are in an
equal bargaining position.
Civil code
A comprehensive and systematic collection of the rules of private law that is
promulgated by a formally empowered authority such as a state.
Condition
A type of contractual term that, in case of non-performance, justifies termi-
nation of the contract under English law.
Conflict-of-laws
The rules of law that deal with relations between persons across different
jurisdictions. Conflict-of-laws (also known as private international law) deals
mainly with the question which law applies to a cross-border relationship
and which national court is competent to decide a cross-border case.
Consensus ad idem
The agreement of the parties to a contract (a ‘meeting of the minds’).
Consideration
The requirement for the valid formation of a contract under English law that
each of the parties to the contract must provide or promise something of
value to the other party.
Consumer credit
A contract under which a business (the lender) agrees to provide a private
individual (the borrower) with credit and by which the borrower is obliged
to repay the loan.
Consumer sale
Sale of goods by a business to a private individual for private consumption
or use.
Contract
A legally binding agreement.
Culpa in contrahendo
The violation of a duty to negotiate in good faith about a contract.
Deed
A written and signed document attested by a witness.
Default rules
Contract law rules that are automatically applicable to the contract if the
parties do not provide otherwise.
Defect of consent
A flaw in the contractual consent that is of such a nature that it allows a party
to invalidate the contract.
Directive
A European legislative instrument that is binding on the Member States as to
the result to be achieved, but that leaves the form and method of implemen-
tation to the national legislatures.
Dissensus
The situation in which intention and declaration of a party differ from each
other.
Distribution contract
An agreement under which one party (the supplier) agrees to supply another
party (the distributor) with products on a continuing basis, and the distribu-
tor agrees to pay for them and to supply them to others in the distributor’s
name.
Donation
A contract under which one party (the donor) gratuitously undertakes to
transfer the ownership of a good to another party (the donee) with the inten-
tion to benefit the donee.
Efficient breach
The view that a party is allowed not to perform a contract and pay damages
instead if this is economically more efficient than performance.
Equity
The body of English law that supplements and mitigates the common law
where the latter leads to harsh results.
Estoppel
The English doctrine that precludes a person from denying or asserting any-
thing to the contrary of his own previous conduct.
Exclusion clause
A term in a contract that seeks to exclude liability of a party for non-perfor-
mance of the contract.
Executed consideration
Something given or accepted in return for a promise, where the promised act
is performed.
Executory consideration
Something given or accepted in return for a promise, where the promised act
is still to be performed in the future.
Expectation interest
The interest of a party to be put in the position that it would have been in had
the contract been performed.
Employment contract
A contract under which one party (the employee) is to perform contractually
agreed work and another party (the employer) is to pay a remuneration for this.
Factoring
A contract in which a party assigns its claims to a factor with a view to obtain-
ing finance and/or to outsourcing administration and credit control.
Feudalism
The political and economic system in large parts of Europe between the
ninth and the fifteenth century in which vassals were protected and main-
tained by their lords and received land tenure in return for homage and legal
and military service. The rights and obligations of people primarily followed
from their status and not from contracts voluntarily entered into.
Fiduciary relationship
A special relationship of trust and confidence that requires a higher duty of
care from both parties. Examples include the relationships between bank and
client, solicitor and client, doctor and patient, principal and agent, guardian
and ward, and shareholders and directors.
Franchise
A contract under which one party (the franchisor) grants another party (the
franchisee), for a fee, the right to conduct a business, whereby the franchisee
is to use the franchisor’s trade name, know-how and and business system.
Frustration
A doctrine in English contract law that is used to set aside a contract in case
an event makes performance impossible or radically changes a party’s princi-
pal purpose with the contract.
Good faith
Objective good faith is a standard of conduct prescribing a party to take into
account the justified interests of the other party. Subjective good faith is a
mental state of mind of a party characterised by a justified absence of knowl-
edge about a certain situation.
Gratuitous transaction
A transaction in which one of the parties obliges itself to another without
(the promise of) receiving anything in return.
Heads of agreement
A document outlining the main points of agreement relevant to the contract.
Hire-purchase
A contract under which one party (the ‘hirer-purchaser’) pays the price of
a good in parts (usually every month) while enjoying the use of it, and the
other party (the seller) transfers ownership when the instalments equal the
total price.
Inertia selling
Sending unrequested goods to people, followed by demanding payment if
they do not return them.
Injunction
A court order that requires someone to perform, or to refrain from perform-
ing, a specific act.
Ius commune
The common system of legal thought and practice that was developed in
large parts of continental Europe between the twelfth and nineteenth centu-
ries and that found its basis in Roman and canon law.
Iustum pretium
The idea that a contract should have a ‘just price’.
Juridical act
A declaration or agreement having legal consequences because these are
intended by the person who acts.
Keep-open covenant
The clause in a commercial lease that requires the tenant to keep the prem-
ises (such as a shop or supermarket) open for trade during an agreed upon
period.
Lapse
An offer coming to an end, meaning that it is no longer open for acceptance.
Lease
A contract under which one party (the lessor) grants another party (the lessee)
a right of use for a specific period in return for a periodic payment (the rent).
Limitation clause
A term in a contract that seeks to limit liability of a party for non-perfor-
mance of the contract.
Linked contracts
Contracts that, although concluded separately, are economically or factually
connected.
Minimum harmonisation
The type of European harmonisation of law that sets a threshold which
national legislation must comply with, leaving it to each individual member
state to offer more protection.
Minor
A person below the age of majority.
Misrepresentation
An untrue statement of fact, which induces a party to conclude a contract.
Mistake
The erroneous belief of one or both contracting parties that certain facts are
true and that allows one or both parties to invalidate the contract.
Non-compliance penalty
The sanction that a court can impose on a party for failure or refusal to
comply with a court order.
Obligation
A usually enforceable duty to perform of one person (the debtor) vis-à-vis
another person (the creditor).
Offer
A proposal that is intended to result in a contract if the other party accepts it
and that contains sufficiently definite terms to form a contract.
Offeree
The person to whom an offer is made.
Offeror
The person making an offer.
Party agreement
The terms of the contract that the parties expressly agreed upon.
Past consideration
An act carried out before a promise is given and that therefore forms no good
consideration for the promise.
Penalty clause
A clause in a contract that requires the defaulting debtor to pay a speci-
fied sum to the creditor that is not a reasonable pre-estimate of the likely
damages.
Prenuptial agreement
A contract entered into prior to marriage or civil union, providing for the
division of property and possibly other things in case of divorce or breakup.
Private law
The branch of law that defines the rights and duties of private actors (such as
individuals and companies) as they relate to each other.
Privity
The principle that a contract can only bind the parties and does not confer
rights or impose duties on others.
Procedural fairness
The view that a contract is fair if the parties were free from constraints that
prevented their exercise of freedom of contract at the time of conclusion of
Promisee
The person to whom a promise is made.
Promisor
The person making a promise.
Promissory estoppel
The doctrine in English law that if a party changes its position by acting in
reliance upon a promise lacking consideration, this party can enforce the
promise even though the requirements for a valid contract are not met.
Receipt theory
The theory according to which a contract is concluded when the offeror
receives the acceptance of the offeree.
Real contracts
Contracts which require the handing over of a good in order to be valid.
Regulated contracts
Contracts of which the contents is substantially prescribed by law or regula-
tory measures.
Reliance interest
The interest of a party to be put in the position it was in before it acted in
reasonable reliance on the contract.
Representation
A statement under English law, which asserts the truth of a given state of facts
encouraging a party to enter into a contract.
Representation (direct)
The situation in which an agent acts in the name of a principal and is there-
fore not itself bound to the transaction.
Revocation
The act of recalling an offer so that it no longer has any effect.
Sale of goods
A contract under which one party (the seller) obliges itself towards another
party (the buyer) to transfer the ownership of a good against the payment of
a price.
Services contract
A contract under which one party (the service provider) agrees to supply a
service to another party (the client) in exchange for a price.
Stare decisis
The common law doctrine of binding precedent, obliging a court to respect
the precedent established by previous decisions.
Stipulatio
A form of contract in Roman law based upon a question-and-answer ritual.
Subject to contract
A clause used to avoid that a party is bound to a contract before it is put into
writing and signed.
Substantive fairness
The view that the fairness of a contract must be judged by the extent to which
the outcome of the contracting process is in conformity with some view of
fairness (such as social justice). See also: procedural fairness.
Suretyship
A contract under which one party (the surety or guarantor) obliges himself
in favour of another party (the creditor) in order to secure a right to perfor-
mance of an obligation of a third party (the debtor) owed to the creditor.
Surrogacy
The contract by which a woman agrees to carry and deliver a child for another
person or couple.
Termination
Bringing an end to the contract for reason of non-performance.
Timeshare
A type of contract that allows a party to use the property (usually a holiday
house or an apartment) for a certain period of time, often combined with
shared ownership.
Undisclosed agency
A relationship between an agent and its counterpart where the counterpart
does not know that the agent is acting on behalf of a principal.
Unilateral contract
A contract in which only one of the parties assumes an obligation.
Void contract
A contract that suffers from such a defect that it is of no effect from the begin-
ning (‘ab initio’). See also: avoidable contract.
Warranty
A contractual term under English law, which if broken allows a claim for
damages but not for termination of the contract.
Withdrawal
The overtaking of a declaration by another declaration that reaches the
addressee before or at the same time as the first declaration.
Withdrawal right
The right of the consumer to end a contract within a limited period without
having to give any reason for doing so.
confiance légitime (reasonable expectations of other best efforts and results, obligation to achieve 212–13
party) 70 civil law approach 211–14
consensus ad idem (agreement) model 11, 41, 63–4, 65 employees and subcontractors, involvement of 214
consent defects see defects of consent and English law and guarantee clause 103, 214–15, 220
misrepresentation English law and guarantee clause, doctrine of
consideration doctrine 52–3, 63, 77–89 frustration 214–15
consumer contracts force majeur case 212–13, 214, 215
business-to-consumer (B2C) 6, 17, 34, 110, 149, foreseeable circumstances 212
150, 151, 173, 207 guarantee clause 214
consumer-to-consumer (C2C) 6, 13, 34 obligation de moyens and obligation de résultat,
contractual remedies 23 difference between 213
good faith principle 146–7, 153 damages for non-performance, limitations 221–5
consumer credit 10, 30, 102, 106, 107, 110, 111, 112, causation by non-performance 222–4
114, 251, 263 expectation and reliance interest 221–2
contra proferentem rule 128–30, 149, 263 foreseeability 223
contract classification 4–6 intentional or grossly negligent breach 223–4
contract definition 3, 41 non-pecuniary loss 224–5
contracts for the benefit of a third party 245–8 pleasure contracts 224–5
Corona see COVID DCFR see sources of contract law, European law, Draft
corporate social responsibility (CSR) third parties 252 Common Frame of Reference of European Private
court access, clause excluding party from access in case Law (DCFR)
of dispute 182 debt
COVID 205–6 contracts for the benefit of a third party 246–248
Croatia 27 notice to debtor, damages for non-performance 210,
culpa in contrahendo (fault in contracting) 67, 267 216–17, 220
Cyprus 28 promise to accept part payment as discharge of entire
Czech Republic 27 debt 83–7
deceit (fraud), defects of consent and misrepresentation
damages claims 78, 82, 168 167
damages for non-performance 209–27 defamation cases 7
ancillary duty violation 219 defects of consent and misrepresentation 159–76
clauses 225–7 abuse of circumstances 171–2
collateral damage (consequential loss) 216 assumptions and expectations leading to
debtor in default (en demeure) 217 disappointment 159–60
delay, damages for 215–16, 217–18 caveat emptor (let the buyer beware) 173
expectation interest 216 civil law approach 160
in lieu 216, 217–19, 221 contract avoidance for undue influence 160, 169–72,
liquidated (agreed) damages 226 181
notice to debtor 210, 216–18, 219–20 contract avoidance for undue influence, double test
penalty clause 226–7 170–71
reason for non-performance, non-excused and English law approach 160
excused 210 fraud (deceit) 160, 167–8
relational contracts and litigation avoidance 220 fraudulent misrepresentation 173
second chance to perform (Nachfrist) 219, 234 information disclosure, no general duty 172–3
seriousness of non-performance 210 innocent misrepresentation 175
see also defects of consent and misrepresentation; negligent misrepresentation 173–5
termination of contract party in error 160
damages for non-performance, attributability 211–15 terms as statement which asserts truth of given state
absolute contracts 214 of facts 174
threat 160, 168–9 see also damages for non- contracts for the benefit of a third party 247
performance; termination of contract Contracts (Rights of Third Parties) Act 24
defects of consent and misrepresentation, mistake, and damages for non-performance 214–15, 220, 223,
rules on avoidance of contract 159–60 225
apparent importance requirement 163 defects of consent and misrepresentation 160,
causal link requirement 163 172–5
common (shared) mistake 165–7 dissensus of declaration and intention 65
contract requirements 162 Electronic Commerce Directive 113
duty to investigate 166 EU Directives implementation methods 31–2
fundamental characteristic of the good 162–3 good faith principle, lack of general see good faith
incorrect information given by other party 163–4 principle, lack of general principle, in English
misapprehension of correct situation 162–3 law
non-disclosure by other party 164–5 gratuitous transactions 72–3, 106–7
risk factor to mistaken party 166 guarantee clause 102–3, 214–15
delay, damages for 215–16, 217–18 Hoover and airline ticket offer 48–9
Demogue, R. 139 impossibility as valid excuse for non-performance
Denning, Lord 47, 60, 85, 151, 171, 215 199
direct action linked contracts 250–51 Judicature Act 28–9
disadvantageous transactions 72–3 law of contractual remedies 29
dissensus of intention and declaration 65, 162 law of obligations 7–9
domestic agreements 75–7 Law of Property Act 106
donations/gifts 72, 104, 105, 116 Law of Property (Miscellaneous Provisions) 84,
106–7
e-commerce legal capacity of parties 91–2, 96, 98
e-mail messages and contract conclusion time 59, 60 Mental Capacity Act 98
and ‘written’ contracts 111–13 see also websites Mental Health Act 97
earnestness test and legal relations see legal relations, Misrepresentation Act 24, 174–5
intention to create, earnestness test in problematic misrepresentation, no general duty to disclose
cases information 172–3
efficient breach theory 235 offer acceptance requirements, ‘knock out’ rule 57
Ellinghaus, F. 144 offer acceptance requirements, ‘mirror image’
employees and subcontractors, and damages for rule 55
nonperformance 214 offer lapse and counter-offer 54
employment contracts 13, 45, 107, 168 offer revocation and consideration doctrine 51–3,
England 61
Argos and Sony television sale 47 offers to the public and advertisements 44–50
binding offer 43 ‘officious bystander’ test and party agreement 132
CISG, non-ratification 32 party agreement, ad hoc gap filling 121–2, 130–32
commercial agreements, gentlemen’s agreement party agreement, gap filling through default rules
71–2 132–5
common law and equity, distinction between 29 party agreement, interpretation 123–30
common law origins 28–9 performance in natura and legally binding promise
Competition and Markets Authority 154 193, 194
consideration doctrine 52, 63, 77–89 postal/mailbox rule and contract conclusion time
Consumer Credit Act 107, 111 60
Consumer Rights Act 32, 130, 133, 147, 150, 152, pre-contractual information duties 110–11
153, 173, 208 prenuptial agreements 75–6
contract avoidance for undue influence 170–71 prohibited contracts 186–8
contract conclusion time 58, 60–61 proprietary estoppel doctrine 116
Sale of Goods Act 24, 92–3, 99, 133, 173, 201, expectation interest, damages for non-performance 216,
231, 242 218, 221–2, 265
shop display of goods 50–51 expectations leading to disappointment, defects of
social agreements and cost-sharing 73–5 consent 159–60
stare decisis (binding precedent) 28 expertise and experience of parties 68, 166
Statute of Frauds 103, 108 expression theory 69
Sunday Trading Act 179
Surrogacy Arrangements Act 184 factoring 258
termination of contract 230, 231, 234–6, 241 fairness problem, good faith principle 149, 151–2
Unfair Contract Terms Act 24, 150, 150, 152 falsa demonstratio non nocet (a wrong description does
Unfair Terms in Consumer Contracts Regulations no harm) 126
30, 130, 146–7, 153 fax machines and chat services, contract conclusion
unilateral contract for a reward 46–8 time 60
voidness and avoidability of contract 115 fiduciary relationships, good faith principle 145–6
website advertisements 47 financial difficulties not acceptable, legally binding
written contracts 102, 107–8 promise 198
Estonia 27 force majeure case, damages for non-performance
EU 212–13, 214, 215
Common European Sales Law (CESL) 31 foreseeability, and damages for non-performance
Consumer Credit Directive 2008/48 30, 110, 251 223
Consumer Rights Directive 2011/83 30, 56, 113 formalities 101–18
DCFR see sources of contract law, European law, contract withdrawal rights 114
Draft Common Frame of Reference of European contract withdrawal rights, rights to return
Private Law (DCFR) comparison 114
Electronic Commerce Directive 2000/31 30, 50, 112 as evidentiary function 102–3, 109–10
Electronic Signatures Directive 1999/31 112 informality principle 11, 101
Package Travel Directive 90/314 30 as information function 102
PECL see sources of contract law, European law, internet shopping and ‘written’ contracts 111–13
Principles of European Contract Law (PECL) internet shopping and ‘written’ contracts,
(Lando Principles) information duties 113
Sale of Consumer Goods Directive 2019/771 30, internet shopping and ‘written’ contracts, withdrawal
194, 206–7, 251 rights 114
sanction for breach of an information duty 110–11 notarial deed contracts 103–6, 116
sources of contract law see sources of contract law, notarial deed contracts, civil law notary and Notary
European law Public, difference between 105
TFEU, prohibited contracts and competition notarial deed contracts, gift or donation 104
restriction on internal market 27, 29, 179–80 notarial deed contracts, land and immovables, sale
Timeshare Directive 2008/122 30, 106 and transfer 104–6
Unfair Terms in Consumer Contracts Directive pre-contractual information duties 110–11
93/13 30, 130, 146, 153 sanctions if contract lacks required form 115–17
see also individual countries sanctions if contract lacks required form, validity
European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) 97, question and ‘good faith’ principle 116
182 sanctions if contract lacks required form, voidness
evidentiary function 102 and avoidability of contract, aim of 115
exceptio non adimpleti contractus (exception of a suretyship (guarantee) 102, 103, 107, 108, 112, 115,
nonperformed contract) 241, 264 116
exemption clauses as warning function 102
third-party effect 248–50 written contracts 103, 107, 108–10
transport 248 written contracts, evidentiary formalism 109
written contracts, probationis causa (with an eye to party agreement, gap filling through default rules
proof) 108 132–5
France party agreement, interpretation 123–30
Act on the Protection and Information of the party agreement, interpretation, unambiguous clause
Consumer of Products and Services (Loi (clauses claires et précises) 129
Scrivener) 150, 151 performance in natura and legally binding promise
Code Napoleon 25 193, 194
Commercial Code 23 performance in natura and legally binding promise,
Consumer Code (Code de la Consommation) 23, 32, force majeure (impossibility) case 203, 205
130, 150, 151 pre-contractual information duties 110
France and Civil Code (Code Civil) 18–19, 23, 25, 26, prohibited contracts 177–9, 186
41, 44, 92 sales contract, offer definitiveness 44
acceptance requirements, silence circonstancié surrogacy agreements 184
(circumstantial silence) 56 termination of contract 230–35, 236, 237, 238, 239,
binding principles 10 240
Catala-reform 197 written contracts 103, 108
causa requirement 78, 87–9 fraud (deceit), defects of consent and misrepresentation
contract avoidance for undue influence 170–71 160, 167–8
contract conclusion time 58–61 fraudulent misrepresentation 173
contract definition 41 freedom of contract 5, 10, 17, 71, 114, 177, 256
contracts and third parties 243, 245 freedom from contract 73
agency 253–5 Fried, C. 69
assignments 256–7 frustration doctrine 201, 202, 203, 215
contractual fairness (justice contractuelle) 11–12
damages for non-performance 212, 214, 217, 219, Gaius 7
222, 223, 224, 226 gap filling and party agreement see under party
dissensus of declaration and intention 65, 66, 264 agreement
EU Directives implementation methods 32 generic goods, sale of 197
force majeure (impossibility) cases 203, 205, gentlemen’s agreement 71–2
210–15 Germany
fundamental obligation (obligation essentielle) 88 Act on Actions for Injunctions 154
good faith principle 136–47 Act on General Conditions 150
good faith principle, unfair practices and fairness Act on Modernisation of the Law of Obligations
problem 151–2, 153 23
internet shopping and ‘written’ contracts 111–13 Code of Civil Procedure 196
juridical act (acte juridique) 9 Commercial Code 23
legal capacity of parties 91–6, 98 Pandectists 9
legal capacity to perform legal actions 92 Product Liability Act 23
mistake, rules on avoidance of contract for 160–68 Germany, Civil Code (Bürgerliches Gesetzbuch) 18, 19,
non-performance attributability 211–15 25
non-performance attributability, obligation de moyens assignment 256–257
and obligation de résultat, difference between 213 Berlin Ladenöffnungsgesetz 179
notarial deed contracts 103–6 contract avoidance for undue influence 169, 181
offer and acceptance model, lack of 42 contract conclusion time 58–61
offer invitation (offre de pourparlers) 43 contract validity question and ‘good faith’ principle
offer revocation 51–53 116
offer revocation time period (offre avec délai) 53 contracts for the benefit of a third party 246–247
offer to the public and advertisements 44–51 contractual fairness (Vertragsgerechtigkeit) 11–12
party agreement, ad hoc gap filling 122, 130–32 contractual remedies and consumer protection 23
hardship (unforeseen circumstances) doctrine laesio enormis (substantial impairment) and contract
good faith principle 141–2 avoidance 147
ground for termination of contract 203 landlord’s duty to keep building in good repair 133–4
legally binding promise see performance in natura Lando Principles see sources of contract law, European
and legally binding promise, unforeseen law, Principles of European Contract Law (PECL)
circumstances doctrine (Lando Principles)
Hedley, S. 76 Larenz, K. 69
Himalaya clauses Latvia 27
third parties 248 Learned Hand, Judge 123–4
Hoffmann, Lord 124, 125 legal capacity of parties 91–100
Holmes, O. 79 incapacitated person, balancing interests of 92
honour clause 71 legal incapacity and legal protection 91
human organ trade 179 policy reasons 92
Hungary 27 legal capacity of parties, adults in need of protection
96–100
illegal contracts see prohibited contracts custodian 97, 98
immovable property, transfer of 102, 104–6, 107–8, legally incapacitated adults 96–8
115, 147, 201 legally incapacitated adults, wardship (curatelle)
impossibility of performance see under performance in 96–8
natura and legally binding promise, performance mental disorders 98–100
as routine remedy (civil law) mental disorders, ‘in good faith’ generosity 98–100
in lieu, damages for non-performance 216, 217–18 legal capacity of parties, minors 92–6
in natura performance see performance in natura and age requirements 94
legally binding promise ‘contract for necessaries’ 92–3
in pari delicto rule, prohibited contracts 187 employment, apprenticeship and training contracts
incitement cases, prohibited contracts 179 13, 93, 115
incorporation problem, good faith principle modest transactions and capacité usuelle 94
149–50 parental consent 94–6
India 184 statutory administrator role 93–4
information disclosure 110–11, 113–15, 172–3 legal certainty argument, good faith principle 143, 145
intentional or grossly negligent breach 221, 223–4 legal relations, intention to create 63–89
intentionality consensus ad idem (meeting of minds) 11, 41–2,
contracts for the benefit of a third party 247 63–4, 65
internet shopping see e-commerce legally binding contract 63–4
interpretation problem, good faith principle 149 parties’ intention and objective approach to
intuitu personae contracts 45 agreement, will theory 69
Iran 25, 35 sender/receiver communication 64–5
Ireland 28 legal relations, intention to create, consideration and
Islamic contract law 25, 35 causa requirements 77–89
Italy 111 agreement by deed 83–4
iustum pretium doctrine (immoral not to pay a just causa in French law 78, 87–9
price) 147 circumventing 83–4
common historical roots 78–9 contractual liability basis and will, expression and
confusing elements 86–7 reliance 69
consideration in English law 78–89 court decisions, factors involved in 67–8
consideration must be sufficient but need not be culpa in contrahendo (fault in contracting) 67
adequate 80 customary in a certain branch or location 68
damages claim and assumpsit basis 78 dissensus of intention and declaration 65–70, 162
damages clause 82–3 erreur-obstacle (mistake-obstacle) 69
detrimental reliance 85 expertise and experience of the parties 68
executory consideration 80 expression theory 69
existing duty does not amount to valid consideration national emphases, differences in 70
81–3 place of contracting 68
existing public duty 81–2 reliance theory 69
illegal contracts 87 transaction beneficial for one of the parties 67–8
naked agreement (nudum pactum) 78 Leggatt, Judge 146
pacta sunt servanda 12, 64, 78 life insurance 107, 145, 246
past consideration is not good consideration 81 Lindley, Judge 61
peppercorn theory 80 linked contracts 250–51
promise to accept part payment of a debt as liquidated (agreed) damages 226
discharge of the entire debt 83–7 Lithuania 27
promisory estoppel (going against one’s own long-term contracts 201–2, 239–40
previous behaviour) 84–7, 116–17 lottery prizes 74–5
legal relations, intention to create, earnestness test in
problematic cases 70–77 Macaulay, S. 220
babysitting 74 MacKinnon, Lord 132
car-pooling 74 Macmillan, Lord 8–9
commercial agreements 70–72 Macneil, I. 220
disadvantageous transactions 72–3 Markesinis, B. 26
domestic agreements 75–7 mental disorders see under legal capacity of parties,
donation/gift 72 adults in need of protection
gentlemen’s agreement 71–2 minors see legal capacity of parties, minors
gratuitous and disadvantageous transactions 72–3 misrepresentation see defects of consent and
honour clause 71–2 misrepresentation
as legal question 70 mistakes, effects of 68–9, 160–67
lottery prizes 74–5 moral impossibility 198–9
party does something without asking anything in moral views, prohibited contracts 181–6
return 72–3
prenuptial agreements 75–7 Nachfrist (second chance to perform) 219, 234, 236
public policy violations 77 naked agreement (nudum pactum) 78
social agreements 73–5 negligent misrepresentation 173–5
social agreements, cost-sharing 74 Netherlands, Civil Code (Burgerlijk Wetboek) 18, 23, 32
social agreements, no money value 73 assignment 256–7
‘subject to contract’ clause 71–2 causa abandonment 77
legal relations, intention to create, parties’ intention and contract avoidance for undue influence 171–2
objective approach to agreement 64–70 contract conclusion time 58–61
addressee’s ability to judge declaration’s intention contract validity question and ‘good faith’ principle
67–8 116
ambiguous terms 68–9 contracts for the benefit of a third party 247
confiance légitime (reasonable expectations of other contracts requiring pre-contractual information
party) 70 duties 110–11
contractual liability and will-reliance theory 69 offer and acceptance of a contract 41–62
damages for non-performance 215–20, 223, 227 binding offer 43–4, 51
dissensus of declaration and intention 65, 66 consensus ad idem (agreement) model 41–2
EU Directives implementation methods 32 contract definition 41
good faith principle 136, 137, 138, 140 definition 43–51
good faith principle, unfair practices and fairness intention and terms 43
problem 152, 153, 154 invitation to enter into negotiations 43
informality principle 101 lapse of offer 53–5
internet shopping and ‘written’ contracts lapse of offer, acceptance time expiry 54–5
111–13 lapse of offer, counter-offer 54
juridical act (rechtshandeling) 9 lapse of offer, offer rejected 54
layered structure 22 offers to the public and goods on display in shops
legal capacity of parties 95–6, 99–100 50–51
legally binding contract 63 revocation of offer 51–3
mistake, rules on avoidance of contract for 161–2, revocation of offer, consideration doctrine 52–3
167, 168 revocation of offer, and postal rule 60
non-performance attributability 211–15 revocation of offer, reaches offeree before or at same
notarial deed contracts 103–6 time as offer 52
offer and acceptance model 42 offer and acceptance of a contract, acceptance
offer, acceptance requirements, ‘first shot’ rule 57 requirements 55–8
offer invitation 43 acceptance by conduct 57–8
offer revocation 52, 53 battle of the forms 57
offer to the public and advertisements 44–50 confirmatory notes 56–7
party agreement, ad hoc gap filling 132 ‘first shot’ rule 57
party agreement, gap filling through default rules ‘knock out’ rule 57
133–4 prescribed method 55–6
party agreement interpretation 123–30 problems 57
performance in natura and legally binding promise silence treated as acceptance 56
194 offer and acceptance of a contract, contract conclusion
prenuptial agreements 75 time 58–61
prohibited contracts 184 actual notice theory 58, 59
reforms 23 e-mail messages 59–61
sales contract, offer definitiveness 44 expedition or dispatch theory 58, 59
surrogacy agreements 184 externalisation theory 58, 59
termination of contract 238, 239 fax machines and chat services 60
voidness and avoidability of contract 115 postal/mailbox rule 60
written contracts 102–3, 107–8, 112–13 receipt theory 58, 59
non-pecuniary loss, damages for non-performance offer and acceptance of a contract, offers to the public
224–5 and advertisements 44–50
non-performance damages see damages for intuitu personae contracts 45
non-performance policy reasons 46
Nordic countries 105, 153, 154 proposal to the public 44–5
notarial deed contracts 103–6, 117 unilateral contract for a reward 46–7, 48–9
notice on websites 47–50
to debtor, damages for non-performance 210, ‘officious bystander’ test 132
216–18, 219–20
warning, and termination of contract 236 pacta sunt servanda 12, 64, 78, 269
notification Pakistan 35, 145
assignment 256–7 parol evidence rule 128, 269