Subjectifying the Marine Object

Continuing with a theme from my previous posting, Legal Subjectivity and Artificial Intelligence, I want to touch upon other areas where living objects are given standing or have been increasingly deemed worthy of being treated as subjects under the law. In a recent Times Newspaper article, it is reported that scientists suggest that dolphins should be considered "non-human" persons given their high capacity for intelligence, second only to humans. In so doing, the argument follows that a host of rights would or ought to be conferred upon them. This includes the right not to be used as entertainment which the scientists argue entails a form of imprisonment.

The transition from living object to living subject is far from unique. It is perhaps often related to cultural shifts within a given society that increasingly views certain objects as having some heightened intelligence akin to humans that may warrant an altered (and in some cases - legal) status.

Films have been one source that reflects some of these changed perceptions - if not a source for encouraging a change in perceptions. For instance, in Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, an alien probe is sent to Earth to communicate with humpback whales, an extinct species within the fictional world of Star Trek that transpires in the 23rd century. Given their extinction, the probe is unable to communicate with any humpback whales and results in the probe potentially destroying the planet (by evaporating the oceans and destroying Earth's atmosphere) - unless it is able to communicate with this specific species. The crew of the former USS Enterprise have to travel back in time to a period in Earth's history (the late 20th century) to acquire two humpback whales and return them back to the future in order to communicate with the probe.

During the course of the film, humpback whales are treated as sympathetic beings, intelligent life forms whose eventual and systematic extinction would lead to humans' own near destruction in the science fictional future. They are shown to have a complex but fascinating form of communication through whale songs. Probably most striking in the film's efforts to demonstrate their sentience and value, Spock is able to communicate with one of the two whales that eventually get transported back to the future. Spock conveys the crew's intentions to the whales and the whales inform him of their willingness to help. Yet Spock find himself circumspect about the morality of treating the whales as objects to be used to save human society, even if in self-defense. He articulates to Jim Kirk: "Admiral, if we were to assume that these whales are ours to do with as we please, we would be as guilty as those who caused their extinction." Furthermore the whales communicate to Spock their unhappiness with how their species has been treated by man and for that matter their specific dissatisfaction with being kept in confinement. All this to suggest a mature consciousness and awareness about their mistreatment as a species entailing both mass slaughter and confinement.

In addition to the demonstration of heightened consciousness and intelligence, what is probably significant in the calls for the elevated status for certain types of non-human life such as whales and dolphins is their perceived docility. Unlike sharks which are viewed as largely a danger to human beings - assisted in no small measure by the Jaws films, and others like Deep Blue Sea - in the modern era at least - whales and dolphins are not represented as posing a potential danger to human society (although see the film Orca).

Lastly, and this is similarly of no little importance, whales and dolphins in probably most contemporary societies are not deemed to be a source of food for human consumption. Given their perceived intelligence, dolphins can be trained for use in military exercises. Furthermore, from a commercial perspective, dolphins and killer whales are used for entertainment purposes. Were such intelligent sea life to occupy the same role as cows, chickens and pigs in the human food chain, we would unlikely see such impassioned and positive representations in popular culture about the necessity to alter the legal status of these non-human species.

Legal Subjectivity and Artificial Intelligence

A recent co-authored article in the Globe and Mail written by Princeton University bioethics professor Peter Singer, and Warsaw-based independent researcher Agata Sagan entitled "When Robots Want Rights" raises some thoughts about the legal status and subjectivity of robots and/or other forms of artificial intelligence. Namely, if and when such "life forms" achieve "consciousness" - that is to say - "consciousness" that human society recognizes as such, what might be the legal, social and/or cultural benchmarks for determining this.

Singer and Sagan express reasonable doubts about whether such artificial life forms would be capable of acquiring independent legal status beyond their present status as mere property even if they were able to demonstrate that they had feelings. This is in part based on the experience of animals who are sentient forms of life that are still considered property. With respect to artificial life forms, there might be questions about whether these feelings were genuine or simply feelings that they are programmed to experience. The authors state:

The hard question, of course, is how we could tell that a robot really was conscious and not just designed to mimic consciousness. Understanding how the robot had been programmed would provide a clue: Did the designers write the code to provide only the appearance of consciousness? If so, we would have no reason to believe that the robot was conscious.

But if the robot was designed to have human-like capacities that might incidentally give rise to consciousness, we would have a good reason to think that it really was conscious. At that point, the movement for robot rights would begin.

In various films, books, television shows and even songs, forms of artificial intelligence have become important characters. How and in what way has the concept of legal autonomy for these life forms filtered through these cultural narratives?

A number of science fiction films have anticipated life in the future involving advanced forms of artificial intelligence achieving a high degree of sentience - that is, the ability to feel and perceive subjectively. In the science fiction realm this means the ability of artificial life forms to achieve a certain degree of human-like qualities and the ability to express, amongst other things, desire and insight. The Star Wars films are a perfect example of droids having a number of emotions, attitudes, personalities, wit and it would seem an ability to experience pain upon destruction or injury. Still they are property of their various respective owners and subject to their owners' abuse and/or benevolence.

According to cognitive scientist Steve Torrance (referred to in Singer and Sagan's article), in the event that such conscientious artificial intelligence life forms are not accepted as part of a moral (read: human) community the possibility for abuse is great. Membership in such communities is often socially and culturally contingent regardless of one's status as human beings, animal or artificial life (one can hardly forget that human beings historically had at one time been deemed property capable of being bought and sold - such individuals were deemed to lack legal autonomy or subjectivity).

Perhaps one of the most striking circumstances of an artificially intelligent life form achieving some independent legal status within the narrative of a film or television show was the character Data in the (now defunct) television series Star Trek: The Next Generation and subsequent films. In the Star Trek world, Data is the property of Starfleet, the military branch of the Federation of Interstellar Planets. In an episode entitled "The Measure of a Man", Data is confronted with being dismantled so that a particular Starfleet officer and scientist, Maddox may learn certain aspects about Data's functioning. Data refuses as he believes that Maddox would not know how to perform the procedure correctly and with sufficient care. This would thus endanger Data's ability to operate in the same capacity when reassembled. After Data is ordered to submit to the dismantling at the orders of Starfleet Command, he ponders whether his resignation would avoid his need to submit to Starfleet's orders. Once again he is informed that as property of Starfleet, he must subject himself to their whims. Subsequently, at the urging of Data's commanding officer and friend, Captain Jean-Luc Picard, a hearing is convened to determine Data's legal status - is he merely property to be disposed of at Starfleet's will or is he a type of life form worthy of being conferred an autonomous legal status?

Substantively, the presiding tribunal officer holds that Data is a sentient being given that he satisfies two out of three criteria for determining sentience. Clearly, Data from his depiction on screen has intelligence, and is self-aware. The tribunal officer further concludes that it is unnecessary to determine whether Data has "consciousness" - the third criteria - as the officer determines that this often refers to a spiritual notion of whether an individual possesses a soul (notice here the limited definition ascribed to consciousness in comparison to the broader understanding expressed by Singer and Sagan). Given that there is no available evidence or judicial standards to assess whether human or other anthropomorphic life (on the show) possess this characteristic, it is deemed inapplicable. Thus, Data's legal status is transformed from a type of chattel to that of an autonomous being.

Concurrent with the arguments about whether Data, as an android is capable of (legally determinable) sentience, there is the asserted notion that to rule against Data's claim for legal autonomy would be tantamount to endorsing slavery. This is raised by the character Guinan, played by (African-American actress) Whoopi Goldberg who tries to persuade Picard (Data's impromptu legal counsel for the purpose of these proceedings) that the slavery of a whole class of such life forms presents a significant moral issue for the Federation that imagines itself as guided by benevolent and progressive notions. A whole host of characters on the show might have equally raised this rather valid point, yet the point is probably made more poignant (from the perspective of viewers) when delivered by Goldberg, as a representative of a class of people within United States society whose ancestors were subjected to slavery and deemed chattel by the United States Supreme Court in Scott v. Sandford, 60 U.S. (19 How.) 393 [Dred Scott]. Guinan becomes a conduit to transmit the shameful legacy of the Dred Scott decision into the discourse surrounding Data's worth as a sentient being. In a sense, Data's trial is a science fictional repudiation of the Supreme Court's decision (although that repudiation in the real world was at least formally performed by the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments).

Data's value as a sentient being is also signaled in the series by his ability to fit into the moral community of the USS Enterprise. Although awkward at times in his quest to be more human, Data is a trusted member of the officer class, who engages in combat as part of and for the benefit of the crew and who also socially intermingles with other officers through poker games and other activities.

As an example of the intersection of law and popular culture, "The Measure of a Man" attempts to address two legal concepts that touch upon Data's legal subjectivity. The first concept is the ability of an artificially intelligent life form to achieve (human-like) sentience - as expressed by a sense of self-awareness and demonstrable intelligence. The second concept is that to deny Data legal autonomy is to in effect legally endorse slavery over a recognized form of life. The latter point of course only has resonance if we agree that Data is indeed sentient. But as Singer would point out (returning to our own temporal and terrestrial space), animals are similarly sentient but are clearly still deemed chattel. What perhaps then carries Data over the threshold into legal autonomy is his membership and participation in the moral community, and more to the point that community's willingess to allow him entry. It probably doesn't hurt that Data in most respects looks like a human.

If artificial intelligence life forms are to graduate from forms of personal property to subjects with legal autonomy, what "The Measure of a Man" suggests is that Data might serve as the minimum normative benchmark for achieving this.

Creating Communities

The internet, it is often said, is a democratic medium in which users are free to express themselves and their thoughts directly to the worldwide audience. As in the non-cyber world, there are degrees of consequence associated with such expression. As we have seen all too frequently, at the worst end of the spectrum of consequences are reprisals taken against those who use the internet to speak their minds, particularly in authoritarian regimes, where such dissent would not be tolerated as a physical act of speaking. At the other end of the spectrum of consequences, we see examples of job seekers denied jobs or people fired from their jobs due to questionable postings on social networking sites. Both ends of this consequence spectrum involve the piercing of the internet’s fluid nature by concrete, outside norms, be they state repression or employer concerns over employee activities and behavior.

This piercing is fascinating, yet what is also fascinating is the creation of communities within the internet itself and how these communities then pierce the concrete communities and norms of those who participate in them and vice versa. The recent movie “Julie and Julia” provides insights into these relationships and the process of community and norm building online.

The plot of the movie is relatively simple, and parallels the lives of Julia Child and Julie Powell. While the portions of the movie pertaining to Julia Child are extremely interesting, the focus of this post is on the portrayal of Julie. Julie is a woman in her thirties who moves from Brooklyn to Queens with her husband at the beginning of the movie. While both boroughs are part of the larger City of New York, it is clear that each has its own culture, and that Julie is not pleased with the move, which is justified as allowing her husband to live near his office. Julie’s real passion is writing, however the novel she penned was not successful and so she has taken a bureaucratic job. The movie is set in the year 2002 and, we soon discover, Julie’s job at the Lower Manhattan Development Agency involves taking calls that are primarily related to post-September 11th related questions from the public. The audience hears the calls she receives on a daily basis, which range from idiotic questions to irate callers to truly horrible stories of loss and tragedy. With one exception, Julie’s friends are highly successful and shallow, and her meetings with them seem to make Julie feel inadequate. Indeed, when one of her friends, a writer for a New York magazine, asks to interview her for a story, Julie finds out too late that the real subject of the story is New Yorkers who have lowered their job expectations.

Julie’s one passion is cooking and her icon is Julia Child. Eventually, Julie decides to start a blog which will chronicle her attempts to complete every recipe in Julia Child’s famed cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, over the course of a year. In creating the blog, Julie creates the rules and boundaries for the community she hopes to foster through her project. She will make every recipe – even the difficult recipes or the recipes that are difficult for her, such as those involving the cooking of live lobster – and will tell her readers the results even if the results are not as envisioned in the cookbook. Julie also does not shy away from bringing others, such as her husband, into the blog community through references to his assisting in her culinary endeavors.

The blog starts off with no readership except for Julie’s mother, who sends her messages questioning the advisability of the blog. When Julie starts to question her project she discovers, however, that she has readers and fans, and soon the blog becomes a top-rated blog. From there the fan base continues to grow, with readers offering suggestions and comments online. The boundaries of the online and concrete start to cross, however, when readers begin to send Julie cooking products in the mail and when the blog catches the attention of traditional media. This cross-over continues into Julie’s personal life, when she insists that she has to keep up with the project because of her readers even when her marriage starts to suffer. It continues when her husband tells her not to mention him in the blog and when her boss nearly fires her for calling in sick when it was clear from the blog that she was quite healthy. Further, her boss makes it clear that she would lose her job if any references were made to him in the blog. In the end, Julie completes her project and, in a bittersweet blog posting, also ends the blog despite the national attention that it has gathered throughout the course of the year.

Thus, Julie is faithful to the law she established regarding the duration of the blog. However, it becomes apparent throughout the movie that she cannot enforce some of the other laws and rules she established for the blog community at the beginning of her project. Julie does establish a community in which she and her talents for writing and cooking are validated, and in which she does not shy away from open dialogue regarding her successes and failures. However, she cannot keep this community from crossing over into her concrete, quotidian community and life. The blog becomes a source of tension between Julie and her husband, both in terms of her dedication to the community which sprung up around it and in terms of his inclusion in it. By reading her blog posts, Julie’s boss was clearly able to ascertain that she was not ill when she claimed to be, indicating that membership in the community expanded beyond those who were truly interested in the project, as originally intended. The attention garnered by the blog ultimately demonstrated that, while Julie could set the basic parameters of the community as she envisioned it, her ability to control the community and enforce these parameters was limited given the fluid nature of the internet.

Ultimately, Julie’s blog demonstrates that the internet is indeed a democratic medium in which individual people can not only speak their minds but also create communities around their interests. Julie’s blog also demonstrates the difficulties associated with enforcing the laws and norms of an online community and in keeping this community separate from one’s concrete community.

Interstellar Omissions

In my previous blog posting, "Interstellar Intimacies", I spoke about Star Trek's commitment toward exploring and defying restrictive socio-cultural boundaries, particularly with respect to race. The original Star Trek series in the late 1960s featured the first interracial kiss between a White (Captain James Kirk) and a Black person (Lt. Nyota Uhura) on television - this during the era of still-entrenched racism and bigotry toward African-Americans and people of colour. As the series was also filmed during the cold war, the presence of a Russian crew member, Pavel Chekov, also suggested a visionary collaboration in the future between two then-competing and antagonistic superpowers.

The latest film installment (released earlier this year) in many ways reproduces some of these traditional motifs of the Star Trek universe as it traces the beginnings of the original crew members. Yet it also fails to address one of the more compelling social, political and legal issues today, the struggle for equality and inclusiveness by gays and lesbians - particularly in the context of serving openly in the military.

While the USS Enterprise and other Starfleet vessels operate within a diplomatic and exploratory mandate, they are also armed military ships that engage in combat (afterall, who would realistically watch any Star Trek episode or film if the central focus of each plot was to dramatize the complexities of conducting geological surveys on lifeless moons or uninhabitable planets). Conspicuous by their absence, at least within the latest film, are any mention or inference of openly gay or lesbian characters serving within the ranks of Starfleet.

By mentioning the idea of including openly gay or lesbian characters, I am not speaking of introducing crude caricatures or making any such particular character's sexual identity an explicit part of the plot. Just as the original Star Trek series took it as a given that in the future, people of different races and ethnicities would and could be a part of a cooperative military and exploratory adventure together, the same could be done here with gays and lesbians.

References can be made subtly, perhaps even more more so than a scene that has a young cadet Kirk making out with a green-skinned female alien (no offense to extra-terrestrials intended). For example, as or before Kirk is about to enter a shuttle transporting him to Starfleet Academy, he could have been shown passing a character leaving to attend Starfleet Academy as well who is saying goodbye to their same-sex spouse and in such a manner as to suggest they are more than just "friends". This implicitly would speak both to the acceptability of open same-sex marriages/relationships and to the ability of gays and lesbians serving openly in the military being a given in some future context, without it becoming the central focus of any story.

By not including this or something similar, I am not in any way suggesting that the producers and writers of the recent film did so intentionally or out of malice. In rebooting the original Star Trek narrative, a central focus will naturally be on re-establishing the audience's connection with the new actors who are playing hallowed characters within the science fiction genre. The new film rewrites the history of the Star Trek universe, and thus allows for the introduction of new characters going forward in sequels. Perhaps writers for the next film(s) will take the opportunity to consider how to address the issue of inclusiveness of gays and lesbians in the military and as equal members of civil society. This could serve as as a powerful comment on their present inability to serve openly, not only in the United States but in other polities.

Interstellar Intimacies

The Star Trek universe, whether on television or film has fascinated viewers for decades now. More than just a medium of entertainment, its themes have striking resonance for those studying international law and international relations (see the sources section below). The most recent addition to the science fiction enterprise (no pun intended) is the recent film, simply titled, Star Trek. In addition to exploring (legal) issues related to torture and genocide (as my Jurisculture partner in crime Alexandra examined in her posting "Genocidal Trek" from earlier this year) this film focuses, in part, on the origins of the characters from the original 1960s television series that made the Star Trek industry famous. In so doing, it draws attention to themes that made the original Star Trek series so revolutionary for its time - the breaking of socially-constructed boundaries.

In tracing the origins of one of Star Trek's leading characters, Spock, the film touches upon issues of discrimination and ostracism experienced by individuals of mixed racial parentage. Spock, as many are surely aware, is the progeny of a Vulcan father, Sarek, and a human mother, Amanda. Although a bi-racial child, in the literal sense, Spock is raised (culturally) in the Vulcan way - that is, he is raised to subordinate all personal emotions and subjective feelings to the demands of logic and scientific thinking.

While culturally and by all appearances Vulcan, a young Spock is shown being taunted and ostracized by fellow Vulcan students on account of his mixed parentage, and particularly for being the son of a human mother. Spock gives into his emotions and attacks one of his peers who insults his mother. From the Vulcan perspective, humans are largely derided as emotional, intemperate, undisciplined and most sinfully, illogical beings. This explicit prejudice follows Spock throughout his life. During an assembly where he is granted admission into the Vulcan Science Academy (considered a rather prestigious honour for Vulcans), Spock is given a backhanded compliment by a high official about his ability to succeed notwithstanding his biological deficit. Consequently, Spock declines the offer of admission and instead opts for a seat in Starfleet Academy, situated in San Francisco.

Interestingly, while Spock is derided by his fellow Vulcans as being too human, and not Vulcan enough, he is similarly not fully at ease amongst his human counterparts, except with perhaps cadet Uhura. Indeed, amongst humans and his Starfleet colleagues, Spock identifies himself and is identified as a Vulcan, rather than as biracial. This is usually raised by the emotional and antagonistic Dr. Leonard McCoy who has in previous films and the television series referred to Spock as inhuman, replete with references to Spock's pointy Vulcan ears.

Spock's challenge as a bi-racial child to navigate between two worlds that do not completely accept him is something that many bi-racial children experience today. There are challenges to navigating between two different normative structures each replete with their own set of values and expectations for individuals within their respective systems. Although there are probably few countries that formally prohibit interracial relationships as a matter of state law, there is still a tremendous degree of resistance by members of different civil societies across the world toward such relationships.

This resistance can even impact upon the decisions of legal actors. One need only recall a Justice of the Peace in Louisiana who, this past summer, refused to marry an interracial couple on the basis that he was concerned about the effect that such a relationship would have on the couple's prospective offspring and their acceptance in a racialized society. While the Justice certainly had no legal right to abstain from performing the marriage on this ground, his belief is not completely unfounded as there are certainly parents and families who still evidence significant resistance towards one of their own marrying someone outside of their particular ethnic, class, linguistic and caste group. This isn't to suggest that such barriers and resistance shouldn't be broken or challenged, merely that such resistance is palpable and needs to be addressed. The Justice's decision should have been geared toward confronting those barriers rather than succumbing to them.

But returning to Spock's narrative and its relevance to interracial relationships in our time(s) and place(s) speaks to something far from anachronistic, not only in North America (the cultural backdrop for the creators and writers of Star Trek), but around the world. It speaks to some rather powerful and pervasive non-state legal orders that can have an impact on the decision of interracial couples (or couples who cross distinct cultural boundaries) to pursue their unions or have children. In some cases, the opposition will be limited to mild ostracism while in other extremes, it might lead to physical harm, if not execution. Whatever their forms, these are types of enforcement within socio-legal systems that do not recognize or accept such unions.

The relationship between Sarek and Amanda also speaks to the norms that may govern the raising of children in such contexts. Although half-human, Spock is rather explicitly raised in the Vulcan way. Anything human is derided as clearly inferior and lacking in logical thinking. In many mixed families (whether the mix is on the basis of race, religion and/or other distinction), the cultural values of one spouse may dominate over the other's in the raising of their children. Rather than both cultural frameworks having equal representation, there is perhaps in many instances a pattern of dominance. One of the cultural frameworks, whether explicitly or implicitly is presented as dominant so as to impose some sense of uniformity. One of the spouses "converts" and/or otherwise accepts and assimilates (although perhaps not completely) the other spouse's cultural framework and the norms that come with it. The children are raised within the dominant framework while the other may be diminished. This is of course not the case in every such familial context.

Star Trek, as always presents its viewers with a wide range of norms and normative structures. In this posting, I have focused on what the film has shown. In a subsequent posting, I shall explore what was left out and was such omissions suggest about the limitations of Star Trek's implicit commitment to breaking social, political and legal boundaries.

Sources consulted:

Randall Kennedy, Interracial Intimacies: Sex Marriage, Identity and Adoption (New York: Pantheon Books, 2003).

Michael Scharf and Lawrence Roberts, "The Interstellar Relations of the Federation: International Law and Star Trek: The Next Generation" (1994) 25 University of Toledo Law review 577.

Star Trek (Paramount Pictures 2009).

Janie's Got A Gun and Justified Private Violence

Twenty years ago, Boston-based rock band Aerosmith released its highly successful album Pump. Amongst Pump's various tracks was the Grammy award-winning song (and MTV award winning music video directed by David Fincher) Janie's Got A Gun (JGAG). The song highlighted a significant social and legal issue - sexual abuse and incest. JGAG conveys the narrative of the song's protagonist Janie who kills her father for having raped her (presumably not for the first time).

In this blog post, I want to briefly explore how the song deals with the idea of private violence in a familial context. In JGAG, there are fundamentally two acts of familial violence that transpire:, where one causally leads to the other: 1) a father raping his daughter; and 2) the daughter killing her father, both in response to and in order to stop prospective rapes by him against her.

The father and his acts are accurately characterized for what they are - as unjustifiable and wrongful. The rape of one's own child (and anyone else for that matter) is an act of a troubled and disturbed mind - although not necessarily a product of legal insanity. This is conveyed in the following lyrics:

What did her daddy do?
He jacked a little bitty baby
The man has got to be insane

They say the spell that he was under the
lightning and the thunder knew that
someone had to stop the rain

Although Janie is a teenager (as suggested at least in the music video), the father's death is justifiably violent - as justification for raping a "little bitty baby". It also conveys the power imbalance that exists between a parent and child, even when that child is a teenager.

Janie's violence is justified as more than just an act of retribution. It is also presented as a form of remedial action and prospective self-defence. She is the "someone" who "had to stop the rain." As with many individuals who suffer from private violence, there is a fear of revealing it to others only to be disbelieved or to have no action taken to stop it.

They said when Janie was arrested they
found him underneath a train
But man he had it coming
Now that Janie's got a gun she ain't never
gonna be the same.

...

She had to take him down easy and put a
bullet in his brain
She said cause nobody believes me
The man was such a sleaze, he ain't never
gonna be the same.

Janie in this narrative is not presented as just an object of her father's madness/lust/desire, but she is also an agent who takes control of that which causes her utmost pain. Notwithstanding and perhaps in spite of her father's depravity and metaphorical insanity, her agency is nevertheless manifested through a sense of humanity - by taking him down easy and putting a bullet in his brain. One could easily imagine more painful, deserved and vengeful instantiations.

Janie's actions taken against her father are analogous to those who suffer from Battered Spouse Syndrome, where the act of violence waged against an abusive spouse leading to the latter's death does not take place at the time of or in expectation of an imminent attack. It occurs while the abuser is or might be caught unaware of his/her impending death- perhaps even after an abusive act has transpired. In the music video for JGAG, Janie kills her father while he sits in his study, after having just raped her.

The song does not reveal Janie's ultimate fate following her arrest. The song does however convey, intended or otherwise, a sense of justice, retribution and self-defence through Janie's actions.

Deterring misconduct

Rules are ubiquitous and inescapable. This is what Serena Williams discovered in her semi-final match against opponent Kim Clijsters.

Trailing in what turned out to the final game of the second set, Williams was serving when she committed what the line judge determined to be a foot fault (and because this immediately followed a previous serving fault), she lost the point. This brought the score to 15-40 and match point for Clijsters. Williams argued with the line judge and then returned to the line to serve. However, she returned back to apparently express a few more words to the line judge. This entailed shaking the ball in the judge's face and apparently threatening her.

As reported in the New York Times:

Reporters who were courtside said that Williams approached the line judge and they heard Williams shout profanity at her. Holding a ball, Williams said to the lineswoman that “you don’t know me,” appearing to inject it with profanity. Then Williams added that the linewoman was lucky that Williams was not, according to The Miami Herald, “shoving this ball down your throat.”

After this altercation, the Chair Umpire called the line judge over to her chair to disclose what just transpired. The Chair Umpire then determined that Williams would be assessed a one point penalty for a code violation - "unsportsmanlike conduct". This ultimately resulted in Williams losing the final point of the game and finally the match to Clijsters.

What we observe (as if it weren't evident already) is that different institutions and entities within civil society have applicable rules for human conduct and modes of enforcement over whom they have jurisdiction. While most people don't attend court proceedings, many are often spectators and witnesses at popular cultural and sporting events such as tennis and hockey. Spectators witness how "disputes" are adjudicated by "parties" to the game - in the case of Williams-Clijsters match, enforcement of the rules can lead to an anti-climactic result in an otherwise entertaining and dynamic match.

The dispute that took place at the end of the Williams-Clijsters match was particularly interesting from the point of view of the application of the rules to player conduct. Normally, if there is a dispute in tennis about a technical violation and a judge's call on the violation, there is recourse to technical assistance - i.e. computer-generated reconstructions to assess whether the ball was in or out. Here, there was a dispute over what Williams actually said to the line judge. In ruling against Williams, the Chief Umpire opted to believe the line judge's account about what it was that Williams said. Williams could be overheard imploring the umpire that she didn't threaten the line judge's life. The Chief Umpire's decision to positively view the line judge's credibility was probably helped by the threatening gestures Williams had made toward the latter as she was threatening her (not to mention a reputation for losing her cool on the tennis court).

The episode demonstrates the speed at which justice can (and probably needs to) be dispensed at a live sporting event and the serious consequences for a top-seeded player - both with respect to winnings that can be potentially earned and the prestige to be gained from winning the US Open. As in all systems, some rules are designed to encourage or discourage certain types of conduct - for example rules punishing unsportsmanlike conduct. Whether this will ultimately deter Williams or other players with anger management issues, time will tell. But for now it seems to illustrate that tennis has a type of legal system in operation and it is enforced in such a way as to fell one of its foremost athletes at a critical moment of a match.