The system of norms and institutions of global ordering created in the aftermath of the Second World War can no longer meet modern-day challenges. While it is tempting to search for answers in the world of conceptual categories, such as new treaties or revised legal mechanisms, the perspective grounded in aesthetics invites us to first clarify the lens through which we perceive the existing structures of international justice. There is an invitation to step away from the outcome-oriented search for legal solutions and focus on cultivating the observer’s gaze.
Contemplation of this sort may not yield immediate solutions, but it can reconnect us to the universality of perception, a fundamental human feature. Here, the field of aesthetics offers a distinct entry point. Understood broadly, aesthetics refers to the study of perception, experience, and meaning – not limited to art and beauty but also encompassing how individuals and societies interpret and make sense of what they encounter. This approach invites legal professionals, students, and researchers to work with the ‘unknowns’ by stepping away from the familiar legal binaries of ‘guilty/not guilty’, ‘win/lose’, ‘binding/non-binding’. This exercise of observation uses aesthetic theories as an anchor. It creates necessary space around seemingly fixed legal categories, which is then conducive to building new geometries and relationships within the field of international justice. These are the ideas explored in my recent book Art, Aesthetics and International Justice.
Understanding how today’s international justice system took shape requires looking back to the postwar consensus from which it emerged. The United Nations, the International Monetary Fund, and the ensuing ‘legal scaffolding’ in the form of the UN Charter, as well as the plethora of humanitarian and human rights conventions that came into being at a specific juncture in time. The late 1940s and early 1950s marked a moment of global reckoning, when the impulse to create a framework for co-operation and war prevention materialized in its admittedly imperfect but somewhat functional way.
This is not to brush aside post-colonial critiques of international law, which correctly point to the absence or under-representation of a large proportion of the world’s population during the creation of the current international legal architecture. At the same time, it is fair to say that certain structures emerged and remained effective for several decades. The Preamble of the UN Charter speaks of ‘[w]e the peoples of the United Nations…’, seemingly pointing to the collective destiny of humanity, which is beyond states and their interests.
Yet, over time, the centrality of state consent came to dominate the sources and logic of international law. States and international organizations are – strictly speaking – the only subjects of international law. This view excludes individuals and corporations, which is at odds with the emerging global order. Furthermore, the centrality of the state as a guarantor of individual rights and obligations binds individuals to a particular geographical habitat, often limiting their chances for prosperity and self-determination. Climate-related migration may radically challenge our perception of nationality as an immutable feature of the state-centric paradigm of international justice.
The promise of international justice created in the middle of the twentieth century was undoubtedly to cultivate peace and prevent the recurrence of gross violations of human dignity, such as genocide or aggression. These events still occur in our collective process but at the very least there is a body of international legal norms solidifying the prohibitions and setting reasonable expectations about the need to condemn these crimes. At the same time, the very same system of international justice continuously reinforces inequality inherent in a state-centric system, with the quality of nationalities and life opportunities differing vastly across the globe.
International Justice 2.0
That foundational consensus of the mid-twentieth century has since unraveled. While the formal sources of international law continue to be produced primarily by states, corporations and civil society actors are increasingly engaging in domains once seen as the exclusive terrain of states and inter-governmental organizations. There is thus a distinct trend of privatizing international justice. One manifestation of this phenomenon is blending the values and ambitions of international justice with non-state-centric institutional models. For instance, the Commission for International Justice and Accountability (CIJA) is a non-governmental organization that collects data on mass atrocities committed in Syria, Ukraine, and other countries.
CIJA has been aptly referred to as a model of ‘entrepreneurial justice’ as it uses market-driven strategies to attract donations and cultivate broader acceptance of its work. It has created a new blueprint of engaging with evidence of mass atrocities by normalizing its collection and preservation for the purposes of domestic prosecutions as well as for future international trials. Together with the newly established UN data collection mechanisms, CIJA has helped reinvent international criminal justice by fostering a new form of deterrence – potential perpetrators are now aware that they may be recorded and that punishment may come later. The mere fact of collection is a form of accountability. It also comes, however, with significant costs in terms of data privacy and victims’ rights.
CIJA is just one example of how the landscape of international justice is changing due to technological evolution, a rapid shift to heteropolarity, and an emerging clarity around the limits of neoliberal ideology. The second moment of consensus is often associated with the early 1990s and was famously referred to as ‘the end of history’ by Francis Fukuyama. This was meant to signify the end of ideological struggle, with neoliberalism outlasting competing ideologies such as communism and fascism. It was a relatively optimistic time for international justice, which saw the creation of institutions such as the World Trade Organization and the ad hoc tribunals for the former Yugoslavia and Rwanda, as well as many domestic accountability processes.
Aesthetics offers a way of reawakening the socio-legal imagination.
But the narrative around the collapse of all ideologies into neoliberalism proved to be misleading. The current landscape of collective beliefs is more fragmented than ever, with technology creating isolated information bubbles and polarizing narratives that often drive public opinion at both the local and national levels.
In this context, a new model – international justice 2.0 – is beginning to take shape. It is distinct from its predecessors in that it prioritizes contemplation over chasing predefined outcomes. International justice 2.0 grows out of the seeds of cooperation already planted in the UN Charter, but it goes further to stress the limits of deterrence and the ensuing arms race. The idea is to search for the ‘win/win’ scenarios in global affairs. Rather than discarding the institutional and normative developments of the twentieth century, this model shifts attention to how those structures are perceived and interpreted. It avoids the bureaucratic language of international organizations that often conceals shortcomings and instead embraces multiple and diverse narratives and the growing interconnectedness of global society.
This perceptual shift draws on the language and methods of aesthetics. Engaging with aesthetics in the study and practice of international justice is a process that entails a multisensory engagement with reality. This method is grounded in three distinct components: observation, playing, and building.
The core idea is to first practice non-engaged contemplation – taking time to observe an issue without rushing to define or resolve it. For instance, one can reflect on the concept of state sovereignty, without immediately judging its value. The second stage involves playful interaction with the concept, whether through theoretical or creative exploration. Legal cases from the International Court of Justice could be mapped visually, for example, to show sovereignty as a foundation of state authority in international law as it has been interpreted over time. The final phase involves the generation of a new or revised theory, integrating the normative, empirical, and creative insights that have arisen during the previous two phases. The entire process can be repeated and is open-ended.
The existing international legal order is showing its limitations. Our current moment is defined by fractured institutions and competing narratives – and what this calls for is not necessarily more rules but a different caliber of attention. Aesthetics offers a way of reawakening the socio-legal imagination: to begin to notice again what had become invisible, to hold space for ambiguity, and to ask how justice is experienced – not simply how it is delivered. In a justice system that is increasingly shaped by urgency and legal binaries, perception can become a condition for renewal. What aesthetics makes possible is not an alternative to law, but a deeper understanding of its limits and the human realities it seeks to govern.
© IE Insights.
