Negotiation Anatomy™

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Culpa in contrahendo” — literally “the failure to select Jordan Henderson in the Euros”[1] or, failing that, the “fault in conclusion of a contract”,

or for the more plainly-minded, “negotiating in bad faith” is, we gather, a key concept in the civil law of contracts (you know, that odd Continental way of sorting out arguments) in which the law of places like Germany sees a clear duty when negotiating — so before there is a contract to sue under — not to mislead or induce one’s counterparty to act to its detriment before the contract is concluded.

Pedants like to observe there is no common law equivalent, and while that may literally be true, in practice it is stretching things a little. Misrepresentation, the basic principles of equity and restitution, and the constructive imaginations — not to say trusts — of the Queen’s Bench and Chancery Divisions throughout the ages will ensure the plain common law is applied so as to ensure little old ladies, Welsh hoteliers etc., don’t get the sharp end of the stick.

In practice, the fellow who insists upon, or denies, duties created (or avoided) thorough her own nefarious conduct can expect short treatment should she come before an English court.

Nevertheless, we saw it recently argued in relation to the simple, free, standard OneNDA, of all things — that its failure to disclaim the obligation to enter into a further agreements might come in handy in a civil law jurisdiction where the principle of culpa in contrahendo applies.

But — and knowing squarely nothing about the civil law beyond what one can glean from Wikipedia — this strikes us as rather obtuse.

Firstly, you either do have a contract or you don’t. The use — or risk? — of contrahendo to negotiations that are not concluded surely cannot be solved by a non-existent agreement. Nor, if the point of contrahendo is to undo the vicissitudes of an oppressive contract one has signed, under unjust misapprehension, is sticking something in that oppressive contract going to help either.

And anyway, when all you are promising to do is keep a secret, what kind of additional agreement would you hope — or fear — in any case? This is an NDA, for crying out loud. People don’t sue on NDAs.

In its baffling, obscurant esoterism, culpa in contrahendo captures neatly what legal eagles most love, and everyone else most despairs, about space they take up in the world.

Culpa in contrahendo? I don’t know what that means. Nor do I care. But life is too short, and the foreground too full of more pressing questions for me to wrap my tiny mind around than what this might mean in the dim, purblind future of my commercial relationship,” a muggle will think, “But I am no fool. I can see this smug so-and-so does care, and isn’t going to let this go, and this godforsaken negotiation will carry on until he has his knee-slide.”

Precisely the kind of aggravating carry-on that the OneNDA was designed to end.

We suspect a lazy effort to chase away the cheeky scallywags who would play knock-down-ginger at your door.

The JC likes cheeky scallywags, and enjoys the odd round of knock-down-ginger, as you may know.

See also

References

  1. ©July 2021. This gag shall quickly grow old, as we who are left grow old, so enjoy what there is to enjoy of it — precious little, I grant — while you can.