It's "draconian" and "frightening." Anthony Lewis of TheNew York Times finds it "extremely intimidating." The Washington Post says it's a "tremendous" barrier to legal action, and the American Bar Association has fits over its "attack on access to the courthouse."
Almost everyone seems to agree that a loser-pays rule for lawsuits, an idea floated in the GOP Contract with America, would be terrifying. Even in the modified form that passed the House of Representatives in March--which would require some federal litigants to pay a portion of legal costs if they turn down a settlement offer and do less well at trial--the idea has been attacked as overly harsh. How could the middle class--not to mention the lower class--use the courts if people who lost on a fluke had to pay their opponents' legal fees? Wouldn't they drop even valid suits?
A closer look shows that the actual practice of loser-pays abroad bears little resemblance to the bogey version used to frighten Americans around campfires. No system is perfect, and all litigation carries risks for the innocent, which is one of many reasons for society to discourage it. But as millions of well-informed Europeans see it, loser-pays isn't nearly as terrifying as the way we sue in this country, where lawyers can lay your life to waste and the system will leave you no recourse at all.
Loser-pays is the standard in England, so it is sometimes known as the "English Rule." It is thus often spoken of as if it were some Beefeaters-and-warm-beer eccentricity of the Sceptered Isle. But it has no special connection with England. It has prevailed for millennia in Europe, developing early in Roman law and spreading from there to the civil law systems that evolved all over the continent and became codified in France, Germany, and elsewhere around the time of Napoleon. It even developed in the church courts. Scandinavia, like England, does not trace its civil procedure to the Romans but nonetheless has loser-pays.
The rule's ubiquitousness should give its critics pause. If loser-pays is impractical, why has it lasted in so many places for so long? If it's rigid and historically contingent, how has it endured as philosophies of governance have come and gone? If it's just a way for the rich to grind down the poor, what is it doing in such social democracies as Sweden, Denmark, and the Netherlands? If it grips the middle class with fear, how do the burghers of Geneva, Sydney, and Toronto stand it?
Balance out the rule's theoretical vices with its virtues. The first is fairness. If someone drags you to court and costs you plenty in legal fees, and you finally show you were right, why should they walk away? If they'd hurt you in any other way, wouldn't they have to compensate you?
The practical case for loser-pays is equally compelling. Litigants naturally think too well of their cases; loser-pays pushes them to size up their prospects more realistically. It also curbs the brand of extortion, so routine in American law as almost to have lost its ethical taint, by which lawyers use the costs of the process itself, or the risk of a fluke outcome found in any trial, to strong-arm their opponents into settlement. Such abuse runs in both directions: Many plaintiffs with shoddy claims get paid off, while many defendants who are liable as charged get off with paying less than full freight by threatening to inflict the cost of trial. Thus valid legal claims are often paid earlier and more fully in Europe than here. Although the ABA calls loser-pays a "tax on the right to litigate," it could just as easily be called a subsidy for litigating in a rightful cause.
Society has good reason to discourage unnecessary litigation. Aside from their appalling expense, lawsuits are acrimonious and divisive, a breach of the social peace. They may be an inevitable part of life, but they needn't cost as much as here, and in fact they cost far less in Europe. Liability insurance also costs less there, as a share of the economy, by a factor of two-and-a-half or three to one, resulting in big savings for driv-ers, municipal taxpayers, business owners, and so on. Lawyers are far fewer in number and less powerful.
The only other major exception to the general prevalence of loser-pays is famously nonlitigious Japan. Yet Japan curbs suing by even stronger measures. For example, it charges a fee for lawsuit-filing that is proportioned to the claim of damages, so that the more a plaintiff says he deserves, the more he must pay up front. (If the ABA wants a genuine example of a "tax on the right to litigate," there it is.)
Occasionally someone tries to change or get rid of loser-pays abroad, especially in English-speaking countries where American legal academics (and the fabulously successful American bar) are most influential. But thus far such efforts have only pointed up the rule's durability. Scholars in country after country are well aware of the American alternative and consciously reject it. And with reason: Public outcry over litigation rises to the heavens from our side of the Atlantic, not theirs. European parties have not made a stir lately by campaigning on the need to reform civil procedure, as the Republicans did here.
For years the most prominent American voices for loser-pays have not been conservatives at all. They include Editor in Chief Charles Peters of the neoliberal Washington Monthly ("extortion suits would be quashed....This would mean less work for lawyers and fewer of them"); commentator Michael Kinsley ("would actually encourage lawsuits that are clearly meritorious"); Steven Brill of The American Lawyer and Court TV ("simple, and overdue"); and James Fallows, writing in January in the not-exactly-Gingrichite New York Review of Books ("overdue").
Loser-pays is often mistaken for a double-or-nothing bet: If a suit wins, goes this reasoning, it must win bigger than it does in the United States, while if it loses it must crash in flames. The actual practice is far subtler. Most cases turn on more than one issue, and European courts commonly split the fee pot according to who prevailed on what. Thus a fee award may consist of the net of various line items, added to or deducted from the plaintiff's award as the case may be.
One crucial result is that the litigant with a genuine case risks an offsetting penalty if (as is common here) he stretches the case out by adding less-tenable theories. Even a litigant who squarely wins on the merits can pay a fee offset if he has filed losing motions or made the opponent go to other sorts of needless trouble. Hence each side is pressed to fold its weaker positions.
European courts also come down hard on the Yankee practice of blowing up routine injuries into whopping cash demands. The litigant who claims a million marks or francs in damages but proves only a hundred thousand is deemed to have lost at least in part, and some lump of fees will be deducted from his award. (Various rules deal with the special cases where damages cannot be precisely calculated.) England's "pay into court" rule serves a similar function: If a plaintiff turns down a settlement offer and does worse at trial, the plaintiff has by definition not prevailed for purposes of fees incurred after the offer.
Thus (a Swiss law professor explained to me) when a Zurich or Frankfurt accident victim walks into the office with a good case, the first order of business after establishing the case's merit is to figure out what is a reasonable amount of money to request, based on what the courts have given for similar injuries. Asking for more could risk a fee penalty. An American lawyer who handled a case that way would probably be sued for malpractice or disbarred on grounds of insanity.