Same-Sex Marriage: The EU is Lagging Behind

Alina Tryfonidou, Associate Professor in EU Law, School of Law, University of Reading

Last Friday, in its much-awaited ruling in Obergefell v. Hodges, the US Supreme Court held that same-sex couples derive from the US Constitution the fundamental right to marry and, for this reason, invalidated State laws which impose a ban on such marriages. The Supreme Court, also, held that marriages lawfully performed in one US State must be fully recognised in all other US States. This is, without a doubt, an historical ruling of immense symbolic and practical importance, since it means that allLGB US citizens are now able to marry a same-sex partner, and to be recognised, together with the latter, as a married couple everywhere in the US.

Given that the first country in the world that opened registered partnerships to same-sex couples was Denmark, in 1989, and that the first country that opened marriage to same-sex couples was the Netherlands, in 2001, one would have expected the EU to be a pioneer in matters regarding the legal recognition of same-sex relationships. Nonetheless, the EU’s stance on these matters and on the protection of the rights of same-sex couples remains disappointingly aloof.

This piece will focus on same-sex marriage and shall seek to examine the EU’s position towards a) same-sex marriage in situations confined within a single Member State; and b) the cross-border legal recognition of same-sex marriages (i.e. when EU citizens who are married to a person of the same sex move to another Member State).

Can the EU Require Member States to Open Marriage to Same-Sex Couples?

The answer is simple and it is ‘no’, at least as things stand at the moment. In its judgment in Römer, the Court stressed that ‘as European Union law stands at present, legislation on the marital status of persons falls within the competence of the Member States’. Moreover, the drafters of the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights seemed to share the same view, when in the Explanations Relating to the Charter of Fundamental Rights, it was pointed out that the Charter Article providing the right to marry (Article 9) ‘neither prohibits nor imposes the granting of the status of marriage to unions between people of the same sex’.

Because matters that fall within the ambit of family law are (usually) matters for which there is no European consensus and for which it is believed that each Member State should be left alone to make its own choices, family law is an area in which the EU has no competence to legislate. Thus, it is the Member States that can decide in situations that fall within their jurisdiction, who can marry whom, the requirements for divorce, adoption issues, the regulation of assisted reproduction, and any other issues falling within the ambit of family law. The legal recognition of same-sex relationships is no exception to this, and, hence, it is up to each Member State to decide whether it will allow in its territory two persons of the same sex to marry. This has resulted in an EU which is divided between the (mostly northern and western) Member States which have opened marriage to same-sex couples,[i]and the (mostly central and eastern) Member States which have not,[ii]with some Member States having a constitutional ban on opening marriage to same-sex couples.[iii]

Does the EU Require Member States to Recognise Same-Sex Marriages Lawfully Performed In Another Member State?

Even when the EU does not have the competence to make legislation in a certain area, this does not mean that the Member States have a carte blanche when exercising their powers in that field. This is because Member States must ensure that when they take action in an area which falls to be regulated exclusively by them, they comply with their obligations under EU law.

The next important question, therefore, is what happens to married same-sex couples comprised of (at least) one Union citizen, who move between Member States? If they move to a Member State which has not opened same-sex marriage to its own nationals, do they lose their status as a married couple and, with it, the automatic EU law right to move and reside to the host State together as a couple? Also, once they are within that State’s territory, are they not treated as a married couple for all legal purposes and, hence, are they refused benefits and advantages that are only available to married couples? Or does EU law require Member States which do not offer the option of marriage to same-sex couples in their own territory, to, nonetheless, recognise the status of same-sex couples who lawfully contracted their marriage in another Member State? The answer to this question is not entirely clear.

The reason behind this uncertainty is that the EU legislation which makes provision for the rights (including family reunification rights) of mobile Union citizens, uses the gender- and sexual orientation-neutral term ‘spouse’, without clarifying that this term – at least in this context – refers to both same-sex and opposite-sex spouses. This has proved problematic, because it has been read by some Member States as a licence to refuse to recognise same-sex marriages contracted in other Member States.

More specifically, Directive 2004/38, which lays down the conditions governing the exercise of the right of Union citizens and their family members to move and reside in the territory of another Member State, provides, in its Article 2(2)(a), that ‘family member’ for the purposes of this Directive means, inter alia, ‘the spouse’, and, thus, Union citizens can be accompanied or joined by their ‘spouse’ in the host Member State. One would have thought that a marriage – whether comprised of persons of the same or the opposite sex – lawfully contracted in a Member State, would be considered valid in all other Member States. After all, Recital 31 of the Directive, provides that ‘In accordance with the prohibition of discrimination contained in the Charter, Member States should implement this Directive without discrimination between the beneficiaries of this Directive on grounds such as … sexual orientation’. This, on its own, should suffice for making it clear to the Member States that when implementing the Directive, they must ensure that they do not act in a way which is (directly) discriminatory on the ground of sexual orientation, and, thus, just as they recognise (all) opposite-sex marriages lawfully performed in other Member States they must, also, recognise (all) such same-sex marriages.

In any event, refusing to an LGB Union citizen the right to be joined or accompanied in the host Member State by his or her same-sex spouse can, without a doubt, constitute an obstacle to that person’s fundamental right to move and reside in the territory of another Member State, which stems from the free movement provisions of the FEU Treaty. The rationale of the EU legislature – and the ECJ – for granting family reunification rights to mobile Union citizens, has always been that the refusal of such rights will give rise to a restriction on the exercise of free movement rights (Singh; Carpenter; Metock). It goes without saying that such a restriction will emerge, whether the spouse of a Union citizen is of the same or the opposite sex and hence it appears entirely arbitrary to treat same-sex couples differently from opposite-sex couples. Although the ECJ has not, yet, had the opportunity to rule on whether the refusal of the host State to admit within its territory the same-sex spouse of a mobile Union citizen amounts to a breach of the free movement provisions of the Treaty, a case is currently pending before it (Cocaj), where one of the questions referred is whether ‘registered partnerships’ under Article 2(2)(b) of Directive 2004/38, include same-sex registered partnerships.

 

Once it is found that the refusal to recognise same-sex marriages contracted in other Member States amounts to an obstacle to free movement, the onus will then fall on the recalcitrant Member State to justify its refusal. It seems, nonetheless, that it will be unable to rely on the public policy exception, which is one of the Treaty derogations from the free movement provisions, and this will be so for two reasons. Firstly, since it is engaging in a block refusal to recognise same-sex marriages contracted elsewhere, the requirement laid down in Article 27 of Directive 2004/38, that the measure which limits the exercise of free movement rights is based on the personal conduct of the individual concerned, will not be satisfied. Secondly, national measures can be justified under the Treaty derogations only if they are compatible with fundamental human rights protected under EU law (ERT) and, as will be explained below, a refusal to recognise same-sex marriages contracted in other Member States seems to amount to a breach of Article 21 of the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights and, in particular, the prohibition of discrimination on the ground of sexual orientation, and of the right to human dignity.

A restriction on the exercise of free movement rights is, also, likely to emerge from the simple fact that a same-sex married couple will lose its status or will have its status converted into a ‘lesser’ one (namely, registered partnership), something which will, obviously, have important (negative) implications once the couple is admitted into the territory of the host State. Apart from the hurt feelings and uncertainty that such a loss or ‘downgrading’ of status will cause, it shall, also, give rise to a substantial degree of (practical) inconvenience which, in turn, can lead to an obstacle to the exercise of free movement rights, since the couple – although lawfully married in another Member State – will not be entitled to benefits and advantages reserved to married couples.[iv] For instance, hospital visitation rights or pensions, and tax, social or other advantages, which, under national law, are only available to married couples, will not be granted to the spouses, since in the eyes of the law of the host State, they are not married.

Apart from Article 21 of the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights (see the analysis below) and/or the free movement provisions of the Treaty, some relief in this context can, also, be offered via Directive 2000/78, which prohibits discrimination on, inter alia, the ground of sexual orientation, in the areas of employment, occupation and vocational training. In particular – and applying in this context the principles established in case-law involving stagnant Union citizens (Maruko; Römer; Hay) – same-sex spouses who move to another Member State where they are ‘downgraded’ to registered partners, can rely on the Directive to require the host State to extend to them benefits reserved to opposite-sex spouses, provided that the benefits relate to employment, occupation or vocational training, and provided that the host State considers the two categories of couples (opposite-sex spouses and same-sex registered partners) to be in a comparable situation for the purposes of the claimed benefit. Nonetheless, this is, only, a partial solution to the problem, since it will not offer any remedy to same-sex spouses who move to Member States which do not grant any legal recognition to same-sex relationships or Member States which do not consider – for the specific benefit that is claimed or more generally – opposite-sex spouses to be in a comparable situation with same-sex registered partners. Furthermore, it will not offer any remedy in situations where the claimed benefit or advantage does not relate to employment, occupation or vocational training.

The refusal of the host Member State to recognise same-sex marriages contracted in other Member States of the EU is, also, in breach of fundamental (human) rights that are protected under the Charter and/or as general principles of EU law.

Article 21(1) of the Charter, provides that ‘Any discrimination based on any ground such as … sexual orientation shall be prohibited’. Since all Member States automatically recognise (opposite-sex) marriages contracted in other Member States, a refusal to recognise same-sex marriages, amounts to (direct) discrimination on the ground of sexual orientation. In its Article 51(1), the Charter provides that its provisions are addressed ‘to the Member States only when they are implementing Union law’. Recent ECJ rulings have interpreted this broadly, by noting that ‘The applicability of European Union law entails applicability of the fundamental rights guaranteed by the Charter’ (Fransson). Accordingly, it would seem that situations which involve measures that lead to an obstacle to the exercise of EU free movement rights can fall within the scope of the Charter. Union citizens can, therefore, rely on Article 21 of the Charter in order to require the Member State to which they move to recognise their same-sex marriage and to admit them within its territory and treat them as a married couple. Of course, Member States may wish to try to justify this instance of differential treatment (e.g. on the need to protect the traditional notion of marriage as a union between a man and a woman), but given that – as made clear in the ECHR context – only ‘particularly serious reasons’ can justify discrimination on the ground of sexual orientation (Dudgeon v. United Kingdom; Smith & Grady v. United Kingdom; Karner v. Austria), they will be faced with an uphill struggle, and, in practice, it is unlikely that they will be able to successfully rely on a justification.

Stripping a same-sex married couple of its legal status seems to be, also, a breach of the right to human dignity of the persons comprising it, which is protected under Article 1 of the Charter and which is, also, a general principle of EU law.[v]Forming intimate relationships with other individuals and choosing to formalise such relationships is an exercise of personal autonomy, which is an aspect of the dignity of every human being. The EU, by prohibiting discrimination on the ground of sexual orientation, (tacitly) admits the equal worth of all individuals irrespective of their sexual orientation, and, with it, the equal moral worth of opposite-sex and same-sex relationships. When a Member State refuses to give effect to the choices of individuals as regards their same-sex relationships and the legal status attached to them, it treats such relationships differently from opposite-sex relationships and it treats them as inferior – and as not having the same moral worth – as the latter. Accordingly, it fails to respect the autonomy and dignity of the individuals who have formed and formalised such relationships. The right to human dignity appears, in fact, to have formed the backbone of the majority Opinion in Obergefell v. Hodges which, taking as its basis that ‘the right to personal choice regarding marriage is inherent in the concept of individual autonomy’ and that ‘[t]here is dignity in the bond between two men or two women who seek to marry and in their autonomy to make such profound choices’, concluded that the US Constitution should be read as granting to same-sex couples the fundamental right to marry in the same terms that this has always been granted to opposite-sex couples.

Accordingly, it is obvious from the above analysis that the refusal of the host Member State to recognise the same-sex marriages of mobile Union citizens, amounts to an unjustified breach of a number of fundamental rights (free movement and residence rights; non-discrimination on the ground of sexual orientation; human dignity) that these individuals derive from EU law.

Conclusion

As things stand, it is clear that the EU cannot require Member States to open marriage to same-sex couples. Nonetheless, a number of EU law provisions appear to require Member States to recognise same-sex marriages lawfully entered into in the territory of another Member State. Accordingly, Union citizens who move to another Member State should be allowed to be accompanied or joined there by their same-sex spouse andshould be treated as ‘spouses’, once they are admitted into the territory of the host State. Accordingly, the EU can no longer stand idle, turning a blind eye to the violation by some Member States of the fundamental rights of a segment of the EU population (i.e. the LGB population). The ECJ (when given the opportunity) and the EU legislature, should make it clear that EU Member States are required by EU law to recognise the same-sex marriages of mobile Union citizens, just as they do in situations involving Union citizens who are married to an opposite-sex partner.

Further Reading

A. Tryfonidou, ‘EU Free Movement Law and the Legal Recognition of Same-Sex Relationships: The Case for Mutual Recognition’ (2015) Columbia Journal of European Law (forthcoming)

C. Casonato and A. Schuster (eds), ‘Rights on the Move: Rainbow Families in Europe: Proceedings of the Conference:  Trento, 16-17 October 2014’ available at http://eprints.biblio.unitn.it/4448/

D. Gallo, L. Paladini and P. Pustorino (eds), Same-Sex Couples before National, Supranational and International Jurisdictions (Springer, 2014)

R. Wintemute and M. Andenas (eds), Legal Recognition of Same-Sex Partnerships: A Study of National, European and International Law (Hart, 2001)

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[i]  The Netherlands (2001), Belgium (2003), Spain (2005), Sweden (2009), Portugal (2010), Denmark (2012), France (2013), UK (2014) (apart from Northern Ireland), Luxembourg (2015), Finland (from 2017), Ireland (popular referendum yielded a positive result; awaiting for the law to be passed), Slovenia (proposal for same-sex marriage currently under discussion).

[ii]  Austria, Bulgaria, Croatia, Cyprus, Czech Republic, Estonia, Germany, Greece, Hungary, Italy, Malta, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Romania, Slovakia. Some of these Member States (i.e. Austria, Croatia, Czech Republic, Estonia, Germany, Hungary, Malta), however, offer to same-sex couples the option of a registered partnership/cohabitation.

[iii]  Bulgaria, Croatia, Hungary, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Slovakia.

[iv]  A parallelism can be drawn here with ECJ case-law where it was held that the refusal to recognise a surname registered in another Member State or in accordance with the practice followed in another Member State leads to a substantial degree of inconvenience which, in its turn, can impede the exercise of free movement rights. See, most prominently, Case C-148/02 Garcia Avello ECLI:EU:C:2003:539 and Case C-353/06 Grunkin and Paul ECLI:EU:C:2008:559. This parallelism was first drawn in G. Biaggioni, ‘On Recognition of Foreign Same-Sex Marriages and Partnerships’ in D. Gallo, L. Paladini and P. Pustorino (eds), Same-Sex Couples before National, Supranational and International Jurisdictions (Springer, 2014), 376-377.

[v] This right was, also, used by the Court (together with other the right to respect for private and family life protected under Article 7 of the Charter and Directive 2004/83) in order to limit the freedom of national authorities to use various practices when seeking to establish the sexual orientation of LGB asylum-seekers – see A., B, C case (for comments on the case see the piece by Steve Peers in this blog here). 

Barnard & Peers: chapter 13, chapter 20

Photo credit: CNN.com

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The CJEU rules on obesity and discrimination law

 

Katharina O Cathaoir

In its judgment today in Kaltoft, the European Court of Justice has confirmed that obesity is neither a protected ground of discrimination under EU employment law nor a disability per se. However, in certain circumstances the EU’s Directive banning discrimination in employment on grounds of disability could apply. (Note that EU law does not ban disability discrimination outside the workplace, so today’s judgment will only be relevant to employment disputes.)

Obesity as a protected ground

The case concerned a man who alleged that he lost his job due to his obesity (for more details of the facts, and a discussion of the opinion of the Advocate General, see here). The Court agreed with the Advocate-General that obesity is not a protected ground under EU employment law. There is no mention of obesity in the TFEU or TEU. Neither is there a general prohibition of discrimination. The protected grounds of religion or belief, disability, age or sexual orientation are exhaustive and it is not for the Court to extend these by analogy (there are also EU rules on sex, race and nationality discrimination). However, Member States may provide for increased protection under national law.

Obesity as a disability

The Court adopted a functionality test whereby obesity can only amount to a disability when accompanied by an impairment of the individual’s ability to work on an equal basis to others. Individuals do not have to be incapable of fulfilling their employment tasks, but their ability to do so on the same basis as others must be impaired. The Court suggested that individuals with obesity and decreased mobility or resulting diseases that hinder work ability or cause discomfort that does so, may have a disability under EU employment law. Thus, it is the effect of obesity, not obesity in itself, which is of importance in deciding whether an individual has a disability.

The Court avoided the AG’s suggestion that individuals at the upper most level of obesity (BMI 40+) could be assumed to have functionality issues and thereby, a disability. The Court instead made no mention of BMI as a measure of disability and concentrated on the effect of obesity, not the degree to which an individual is obese.

It will be for the Danish court, which referred these questions to the CJEU, to decide whether Mr. Kaltoft’s obesity entailed a limitation that affected his ability to do his work on an equal basis to others.

Implications

Although we are may be flooded with inaccurate headlines, the position of individuals with obesity under EU law seems to remain unchanged. Employers are likely to breathe a sigh of relief that a BMI test has been avoided. Indeed, this could have led to an appearance based test whereby employers felt pushed to keep an eye on their employees’ size. How and should an employer have access to this kind of personal information?

The case has brought obesity to the fore. Given the level of obesity in Europe, employers may begin to rethink their work practices. The employer has a role to play in his or her employee’s health. For example, employers may reconsider the food they serve in their canteens or the extent to which they make physical exercise accessible to their employees, if it will have ramifications for their legal obligations under discrimination law.

 

Barnard & Peers: chapter 20

 

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Is obesity a disability?

Katharina Ó Cathaoir, PhD Fellow, University of Copenhagen

Is obesity a disability? Advocate General Jääskinen addressed this loaded question yesterday 17 July 2014, in his anticipated opinion in Kaltoft v. Municipality of Billund. The case has garnered media attention with practitioners and journalists concerned by the implications for employers and health. The AG’s opinion is non-binding. The Court will issue its own judgment in the next few months, which will be binding on EU member states. However, in general, the Court tends to follow the AG’s opinion, although it is free to depart therefrom.

What is obesity?

An adult is classified as having obesity if he or she has a body-mass index (BMI) of over 30 (mass kg/ height m2). In most European states, the rate of obesity has doubled in the last twenty years. On average at least 17% of the adult European population is obese. As a result, the public, and state and interstate bodies increasingly look for solutions to the obesity “epidemic”.  Generally, obesity is linked to lack of physical activity and the consumption of too many calories. However, environmental factors, such as walkability, ability to afford and access healthful food, and opportunities to exercise may contribute. There is evidence of a link between low socio-economic status and obesity. Long term weight loss, although possible, is not maintained by everyone.

Facts of the case

Kaltoft worked as a child minder for 15 years with the Municipality of Billund. For the entirety of this time Kaltoft was obese, weighing no less than 160kg. During a period of one year he was provided with financial assistance by the Municipality to attend fitness and physical training sessions. He also unsuccessfully pursued bariatric surgery. Contrary to what has been reported, it has not been established that Kaltoft was dismissed due to his obesity. This will be a matter for the Danish court to decide following the preliminary ruling of the CJEU. Furthermore, Kaltoft, in a BBC interview, denied that he was unable to tie the children’s shoelaces as had been reported. Instead, both parties appear to maintain that Kaltoft was fully capable of fulfilling his position.

Mr Kaltoft was not formally given reasons for his dismissal although the Municipality contends it was due to a decline in the number of children making use of the service. Mr Kaltoft, however, alleges that his obesity was broached at his dismissal hearing and declared a reason for the decision. As a result, Mr Kaltoft argued that he had been unlawfully discriminated against due to his obesity and sought damages. The Danish court referred four questions to the CJEU for preliminary ruling.

Question 1: Is it contrary to EU law, as expressed, for example, in Article 6 TEU concerning fundamental rights, generally or particularly for a public-sector employer to discriminate on grounds of obesity in the labour market?

The AG succinctly opined that obesity does not fall under any general prohibition of discrimination under EU labour discrimination law. Jääskinen considered that the Charter of the Fundamental Rights of the EU did not apply as Denmark was not implementing EU law as such. The sufficient degree of connection with EU law above and beyond the fact that “matters covered are closely related, or one of those matters has an indirect impact on the other” was not met. Furthermore, as Articles 10 and 19 TFEU, as well as Directive 2000/78 (the employment equality Directive, which bans discrimination in employment on grounds of disability, age, religion or sexual orientation), Council Directive 2000/43/EC of 29 June 2000 (the race equality Directive) etc., address specific, exhaustive grounds of non-discrimination. These could not be seen as establishing a general prohibition against discrimination. Thus, the AG rejected a more expansive interpretation of discrimination in EU law as argued by Kaltoft.

Having swiftly disposed of the first three questions (the second two were nullified by the first answer in the negative), the AG engaged in a detailed analysis of the concepts of disability and obesity.

Question 4: Can obesity be deemed to be a disability covered by the protection provided for in Council Directive 2000/78EC… and if so, which criteria will be decisive for the assessment as to whether a person’s obesity means specifically that that person is protected by the probation of discrimination [on] grounds of disability as laid down in that directive?

The AG excluded the possibility that obesity per se would amount to a disability under Directive 2000/78. However, obesity of a certain severity may amount to a disability, provided it fulfils the criteria laid out in case law.

It should be emphasized that there is limited support for obesity per se as a disability. In the United States, in many states, obesity must be accompanied with a physiological condition to qualify as a disability. However, the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) has stated that “severe obesity, which has been defined as body weight more than 100 percent over the norm, is clearly an impairment” and has succeeded on this basis in a number of federal cases. Thus, obesity must reach a higher, more extreme threshold to be a disability per se.

Classifying obesity as a disability

Disability is not defined by the Employment Equality Directive. However, the Directive must, as far as possible, be interpreted consistently with the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD). The AG followed the definition of disability offered in previous case law:  

“A limitation which results in particular from physical, mental or psychological impairments which in interaction with various barriers may hinder the full and effective participation of the person concerned in professional life on an equal basis with other workers.”

This limitation must be long term. The AG, as in the aforementioned case, relied heavily on the UNCRDP and acknowledged disability as an evolving concept.

Thus, the AG concluded that “mere” obesity is insufficient to amount to a disability, instead “most probably only WHO class III obesity, that is severe, extreme or morbid obesity, will create limitations, such as problems in mobility, endurance and mood”.

The AG also stated that it would be absurd if the individual’s ability to carry out his work excluded him from the Directive. Thus, the long term condition must cause limitations “in full and effective participation in professional life in general on equal terms with persons not having the condition”. This may be due to “physical and or psychological limitations”.

Interestingly, the AG also addressed the issue of the origin of the disability. Whether the person’s obesity can be traced to his own behaviour or an external factor was deemed irrelevant. The AG pointed out that many other disabilities may occur due to negligence or risk taking and avoid the moral spotlight.

The implications of disability

Under the EU Employment Equality Directive, an employer has a duty to reasonably accommodate an employee with a disability. Article 5:

“In order to guarantee compliance with the principle of equal treatment in relation to persons with disabilities, reasonable accommodation shall be provided. This means that employers shall take appropriate measures, where needed in a particular case, to enable a person with a disability to have access to, participate in, or advance in employment, or to provide training for such a person, unless such measures would impose a disproportionate burden on the employer. When this burden is, to a sufficient extent, remedied by existing measures as an element of disability policy in the Member State, it should not be considered disproportionate.”

Thus, the duty is not absolute and the employer may show as a defence that accommodation would impose a “disproportionate burden”. Furthermore, as the AG highlighted, the employer is not required to maintain an individual who cannot “perform the essential functions of the post”. Thus, some of the panic regarding the wide reaching ramifications of the decision appears exaggerated.

Recital 20 of the Preamble suggests such accommodation could include “premises and equipment, patterns of working time, the distribution of tasks or the provision of training or integration resources”. However, the assessment will depend on the particular individual.

The Preamble also gives some guidance with regard to assessing whether any particular accommodation amounts to a disproportionate burden in Recital 21:

"To determine whether the measures in question give rise to a disproportionate burden, account should be taken in particular of the financial and other costs entailed, the scale and financial resources of the organisation or undertaking and the possibility of obtaining public funding or any other assistance."

Comment

In Against Health; How Health became the new Morality, Kirkland and others condemn the use of “health” to make value judgments and moral assumptions on an individual. The approach of the AG, in concentrating on the functionality of the individual, instead of causality and responsibility, avoids this. However, some commentators fear that tackling obesity discrimination may serve to support or normalise obesity. Will large numbers of employers now be subject to costly implications? Is it insulting to deem a potentially “curable” condition a disability? With the “fight” against obesity staunchly declared, is it contrary to public health to describe obesity as a disability requiring protection from discrimination? Will this opinion medicalise obese individuals and further remove their sense of personal responsibility?

The experiences of obese persons should not be ignored. Discrimination in employment and healthcare is well documented and appears to be increasing. The AG has adopted a balanced position whereby only severe obesity could be a disability on its own. In reality, this covers only a small percentage of obese persons, especially considering the long term requirement. The majority of obese persons seek to lose weight but some, like Kaltoft, despite efforts, fail to do so. Factors such as diet and preventability play into other recognised disabilities, such as diabetes.

It is contended that stigma and discrimination should never be in the arsenal of a state’s public health policy. Indeed, it appears that shame is a major factor that inhibits persons with obesity from engaging with health care professionals and exercise. Thus, stigma is unlikely to decrease the number of obese persons. Furthermore, having a disability should not be seen as infantilising but instead encouraging full equal participation.

Conclusion

The opinion will prove too moderate for some and extreme for others. While the AG did not go so far as to declare obesity per se a disability, he did suggest extreme obesity could be a disability. Despite showing an understanding influenced by a rights based approach, labelling people with obesity of a certain severity needs further exploration. It does not seem fully clear as to why the AG in particular identified Class III obesity as the only category per se justifying recognition as a disability. Further explanation as to what limitations separate an individual with a BMI of 39 from a BMI of 40 is needed. Furthermore, employers must avoid stigmatising or insensitive identification of employees on the basis of physical characteristics, no matter how well intentioned. 

Barnard & Peers: chapter 20 

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The French ban on public face-veiling: enlarging the margin of appreciation

Ronan McCrea

Senior Lecturer in Law, University College London; author of Religion and the Public Order of the European Union

The Grand Chamber of the European Court of Human Rights has issued its eagerly-anticipated decision in SAS v France, the challenge to the French law of 2010 banning face-veiling in public spaces.

The applicant, a French national represented by British lawyers, had alleged that the law violated no fewer than 6 articles of the ECHR: Article 3 (inhuman and degrading treatment), Article 8 (privacy), Article 9 (freedom of religion and belief), Article 10 (freedom of expression), Article 11 (freedom of association) and Article 14 (non-discrimination in relation to the rights protected by the Convention).

The claims under Articles 3 and 11 were easily dismissed with the Court noting that the applicant’s treatment fell well short of the severe treatment needed to constitute the “inhuman and degrading treatment” prohibited by Article 3 and that no evidence had been provided to substantiate a claim to breach of her freedom of association.

More narrowly and more controversially, it held, by 15 votes to 2, that there had been no violation of Articles 8, 9, 10 or 14. Despite the large majority, the decision was finely balanced. The Court rejected three of the four justifications offered by the French authorities for the law and accepted the fourth only with some hesitancy and with heavy reliance on the need for the Strasbourg Court to defer to the judgment of democratically-legitimated national authorities on these matters.

The Court treated the challenge under Articles 8, 9 and 10 as raising substantially similar issues; namely whether the restriction of the Applicant’s ability to dress in accordance with her beliefs and desires, could be justified by need to protect public order or the rights and freedoms of others.

The judgment reaffirms the Court’s conceptualisation of freedom of religion and belief as an individual right. Rightly shying away from the theologians’ task of adjudicating on what Islam does or does not require, the Court declared that it was “of no relevance” that most Muslim women do not see the face veil as necessary. The fact that the Applicant herself wished to wear the veil for religious reasons was, for the Court, sufficient to bring her actions within the scope of Article 9.

The French authorities put forward four arguments in defence of the prohibition: public safety (related to the need for individuals to be identifiable), the protection of equality between men and women, the protection of human dignity, and the protection of the minimum requirements of life in society.

Three of these four arguments were rejected by the Court. It found that, while public safety could be invoked to require individuals to reveal their faces for identification checks or in certain contexts, a blanket ban on face-veiling could only be sustainable where there was a general threat to public safety, something the French authorities had failed to show.

In relation to the protection of human dignity the Court held that, though it is an important value, a blanket ban could not be justified. It reached this conclusion on the basis that wearing a face veil “is the expression of a cultural identity which contributes to the pluralism that is inherent in democracy”. It further noted the “variability of the notions of virtuousness and decency that are applied to the uncovering of the human body” and that there was no evidence that those wearing the veil express contempt towards others or undermine the dignity of others (para 120).

The invocation of variability of notions of decency in relation to clothing has echoes of the Court’s decision in Vajnai v Hungary where it found a ban on the display of the red star to violate the Convention partly on the basis that the red star had a variety of meanings. The focus on the subjective intentions of veil wearers is interesting in that decisions on dignity have generally focused on objective notions of dignity rather than the perception of the individual carrying out the allegedly undignified act. For example, the Court of Justice of the European Union upheld a German restriction on games that simulated killing in the Omega Spielhallen case without inquiring into whether players of the game intended to violate respect for human life, and the UN Human Rights Committee rejected the complaint of a dwarf rendered unemployed by a French ban on “dwarf tossing” notwithstanding that the applicant felt his dignity was more compromised by unemployment than being thrown around by larger people as part of a performance. If, as the Court’s ruling suggests, it is the subjective intent of the individual that counts then laws seeking to protect collective ideas of dignity are on a much more shaky foundation than before.

The Court’s approach to the claim that the French law sought to protect equality between men and women was equally dismissive. While it accepted that protecting gender equality was a basis on which Convention rights could be restricted it found that “a State Party cannot invoke gender equality in order to ban a practice that is defended by women (…) unless it were to be understood that individuals could be protected on that basis from the exercise of their own fundamental rights and freedoms” (119). As in relation to human dignity, the Court adopts a notably individualistic position, arguing that if women choose to wear the veil, then the equality of men and women cannot be invoked to restrict such a choice.

This seems a little simplistic. Equality laws often restrict the liberty of individual members of a disadvantaged group to ensure the broader fair treatment of the group as a whole. For example, a woman who does not believe in the principle of equal pay for equal work, would not be permitted to take a job at a lower wage than her male colleagues on that basis. The Court might more defensibly have said that the symbolic harm done by the voluntary wearing of clothing that anonymises women in public does not do sufficient damage to the principle of gender equality to justify the restriction on liberty inherent in prohibition of such clothing. Instead it seems to make a balder claim that if women voluntarily carry out an action it can never be legitimate to use the goal of gender equality to restrict such an action. This seems insufficiently thought-through.

The only argument of the French authorities accepted by the Court was that which asserted that the law in question sought to protect “the minimum requirement of civility that is necessary for social interaction” (141). The Court found that “it indeed falls within the powers of the State to secure conditions whereby individuals can live together in their diversity” it held that “the Court is able to accept that a State may find it essential to give particular weight (…) to the interaction between individuals and may consider this to be adversely affected by the fact that some conceal their faces in public places” (141).

The text of Articles 8, 9 and 10 of the ECHR require that measures to restrict privacy, freedom of religion or belief and freedom of expression by justified by a need to protect “the rights and freedoms of others” (or public order and public safety, grounds already rejected by the majority in this case as insufficient to justify a veil ban).

The two dissenting judges sharply questioned whether ideas of civility and ‘living together’ fell within the concept of “rights and freedoms of others” saying that to characterise these ideas in this way was “far-fetched and vague”.

For its part, the majority, though finding that securing conditions for living together did fall within the concept of “rights and freedoms of others”, exhibited significant hesitancy before finding that the French legislation represented a proportionate attempt to protect such rights and freedoms. It noted that the small number of women wearing the veil meant that a blanket ban “may seem excessive” (145), that the ban may have the effect of isolating women (146), that other international bodies had considered the ban disproportionate (147) and that it was concerned by “certain Islamophobic remarks” that featured in the debate on the legislation (149).

Nevertheless, the majority concluded that the ban was proportionate. In so finding it attributed significance to the fact that that the law focused on face-covering rather than the religious connotation of the veil (151) and imposed only a light penalty (a fine of up to 150 Euro). Most significantly it found that the law could be seen as “seeking to protect a principle of interaction between individuals which, in [the State’s] view is essential for the expression not only of pluralism but also of tolerance and broadmindedness without which there is no democratic society” (153) and that the Court “has a duty to exercise a degree of restraint” in assessing the balance struck by the democratic process of a signatory state.

Given the lack of European consensus on this matter and given that this was a matter on which “opinions in a democratic society may reasonably differ” a wide margin of appreciation was called for and no violation of the Convention had been shown. As the law in question represented a proportionate restriction of Convention rights the Court concluded that any indirect discrimination inherent in the ban was justified and that the discrimination (Article 14) claim therefore also failed.

Where does this judgment leave the relationship between the individual, religion, the state and the law in Europe? Given the highly-controversial nature of the law in question and the broad political support for the legislation in question in France, it is unsurprising that the European Court fled to the familiar tools of the margin of appreciation to avoid making a potentially politically-explosive decision. The political firestorm caused by the initial decision in Lautsi v Italy (which held the presence of a crucifix in the classroom of a state school to violate the Convention and which was over-turned on appeal) highlighted the danger for European institutions in seeking to impose Europe-wide solutions on sensitive matters such as religion in public life.

The argument over whether the protection of the principle of ‘living together’ could be a proper basis for the restriction of a fundamental right highlights an important issue for both EU and ECHR law. The framework of rights as a means to adjudicate on disputes can be very problematic. Rights cover only limited aspects of important issues. The Strasbourg Court sees freedom of religion and belief as largely an individual right of choice in one’s beliefs yet this only covers limited aspects of the religious experience of the believer. The secular state is based on a commitment to avoiding religious contestation for political power and a commitment to transcending our religious differences when we come together as citizens in a democracy to make laws that will bind a religiously-diverse population. This is something that cannot readily be translated into a rights claim.

EU Single Market law has struggled to give adequate weight to collective goals such as trade union rights, environmental or public health goals because of the transformation by the CJEU of economic freedoms into fundamental rights. Just as “mandatory requirements” had to be read into the Treaty by the Court of Justice to allow economic free movement rights to be curtailed so as to protect collective goals, the Strasbourg Court has had to adopt an expansive interpretation of “rights and freedoms of others” to ensure adequate protection of broader commitments to religious coexistence.

The dissenting judges are right that the majority’s reading of this term is strained. However, it is necessary to consider whether any other approach is possible. Whether the approach of the French authorities in this case was or was not proportionate, our life together is about more than the rights that we hold against each other and there are important principles that underpin liberal democratic life that are very imperfectly translated into rights terms.

Given that the Court of Justice in Luxembourg tends to defer to Strasbourg on matters of fundamental rights, the decision to uphold the French law will mean that future challenges under EU law are unlikely to succeed. Such challenges could have alleged disproportionate discrimination on grounds of religion or gender in the employment sphere in violation of Directive 2000/78 (the legislation which bans discrimination in employment on grounds of religion, age, sexual orientation or disability) or a disproportionate restriction of free movement rights of a veil-wearing EU national who wished to live in France. The conclusion that the ban is legitimate and proportionate undermines such potential challenges to a significant degree.

The overall impression left by the judgment is of a Court that was uneasy with elements of the French law but was unwilling to intervene in such a controversial area. Indeed, its reasoning contained a number of reaffirmations of its previous case-law upholding less wide-ranging restrictions of religious symbols in particular contexts such as schools, the civil service and identity checks.

The relationship between law and religion is in a state of flux in many EU states. The UK is currently engaged in intense debate on the role of religion in education and the limits of its multicultural model. Sustainable solutions will require trial and error and give and take from each side. Rights will be part of this discussion but so too will more abstract commitments to pluralism and coexistence and communication and compromise. It is therefore perhaps wise of the Strasbourg Court not to seek to impose a Europe-wide solution in such a complex and changing area at this stage.

Barnard & Peers: chapter 9, chapter 20

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More back-slapping than soul-searching: The European Commission’s reflections on the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities

Dr. Charlotte O’Brien, Lecturer in Law, York Law School, University of York

More than seven years on from signing the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD), and three and a half years on from conclusion of the Convention, how is the EU doing on protecting the disability rights contained therein? Extremely well, according to the European Commission. So well, in fact, it seems the UNCRPD was barely necessary at all, since the EU was doing the right things anyway. But this self-analysis – in the Commission’s first report on implementation of the UNCRPD – is unsurprisingly partial, in both senses of the word, being both predisposed to the Commission’s viewpoint, and incomplete.

The report is a series of responses to each article of the Convention, capturing some element of EU activity. There is no section addressing the overall picture, or what is missing, or what needs to be done. The focus is on the patchy assemblage of areas in which disability has been (however peremptorily or indirectly) considered by EU law – and not on the significant gaps. It is tricky to differentiate between those activities that the Commission consider to follow from the UNCRPD, and those that were happening anyway, especially as there is a heavy reliance on the EU Disability Strategy. The Strategy document does refer to the UNCRPD several times – but makes only one mention of it in the ‘areas for action’ of accessibility, participation, equality, employment, education and training, social protection and health.

The message does seem to be that substantive Convention duties were largely being discharged, and the Convention has inspired some procedural refinement.  For example, on assessing the Commission’s internal rules and practices, the Commission ‘concluded that they were in line with the letter and the spirit of the CRPD. However, the review highlighted the need to offer additional guidance to services on the application of reasonable accommodations.’

Some of the most significant issues which emerge from, but are not engaged with in, the report are: (i) the difficulty EU institutions have had breaking away from a medical model of disability; (ii) the continued exclusion of disabled migrants from free movement rights; (iii) the limits of discrimination law; (iv) the detrimental impact of the EU-wide austerity agenda on disabled citizens; and (v) the use of non-justiciable measures and initiatives, combined with a dearth of impact evidence. 

(i)  The EU’s persistently medical model of disability

The report states that in the HK Danmark cases the CJEU adopted the UNCRPD definition of disability, combining medical impairment with ‘physical, mental or psychological impairments which in interaction with various barriers’ create limitations that ‘hinder the full and effective participation of the person concerned in professional life on an equal basis with other workers’.

But this was not unproblematic adoption of a more social model – the Court then conflated impairment with the limitation (i.e. the disability) that ensues following interaction with social and environmental barriers – a confusion repeated in this report. Despite the references to social and environmental barriers, the Advocate General and the Court focused on impairment and barriers were not considered.

The same approach of name-checking the UNCRPD definition without engaging with its substance was taken in the surrogacy case (C-363/12 Z), in which a woman whose medical condition prevented her from carrying children was to have a baby through a surrogate mother and wished to take maternity leave. The exclusion of such women from maternity leave rights presented an ideal opportunity to engage with the idea of socially created disability – as here was a condition that in itself might not be disabling, but on interaction with employment rules became a source of disadvantage, or limitation, in the workplace. But the Court insisted that an impairment must be a disability in itself  - finding that ‘it is not apparent from the order for reference that Ms Z.’s condition by itself made it impossible for her to carry out her work or constituted a hindrance to the exercise of her professional activity.’

It is not just the Court that struggles. The report refers to the ‘social concept of disability’, but relies throughout upon a very medico-economic standpoint – necessarily reflecting the impairment-centric approach of the legislation cited. The General Block Exemption Regulation (a key measure in EU state aid law) defines disability as someone recognized under national law as disabled, or someone who has ‘a recognised limitation which results from physical, mental or psychological impairment’. 

(ii) Cross border mobility

The report is a little evasive and misleading as to the free movement rights of disabled EU citizens. After noting the exclusion of EU migrants form social assistance for the first 3 months in a host state, it goes on to add that ‘if they lawfully reside there for period longer than three months, EU citizens are entitled to social assistance benefits on an equal footing with nationals of the Member State concerned.’ But in the UK, EU migrants have to fit in to one of the categories of Article 7 of Directive 2004/38 of the citizens’ Directive (ie, the grounds for an EU citizen to reside for more than three months in another Member State) in order to be considered lawfully resident. So someone considered economically inactive (and disabled persons are disproportionately more likely to be so considered) will not be entitled to social assistance. The Report does add the caveat that ‘in specific cases where authorities have a reasonable doubt that the EU citizens concerned may become an unreasonable burden on their social assistance system, they may assess the individual situation taking into account all relevant circumstances and the principle of proportionality, and could, on this basis, terminate the right of residence of the persons concerned.’ But, certainly in the UK, refusal of benefits to economically inactive EU migrants is routine, and mandated by law – it is not just in ‘specific cases’. Nor is there recourse to a discretionary assessment of ‘all the relevant circumstances’ or use of ‘proportionality’.

Disabled persons are also disproportionately more likely to be in receipt of special non-contributory benefits (SNCBs), but following the CJEU’s judgment in Case C-140/12 Brey, they cannot rely on this entitlement to argue that they are self sufficient and not reliant on social assistance, and so can also be excluded from equal access to SNCBs. Equal access to benefits in the hoststate is not the only obstacle. The social security coordination regime also excludes social assistance and SNCBs from exportation rules, so that recipients are helped by neither home nor host state.

(iii) The limits of discrimination law

Disability equality rights are limited to Directive 2000/78, the employment equality Directive, which ensures equality on grounds of disability, age, sexual orientation and religion as regards employment and occupation. The report notes that in 2008 the Commission put forward a proposalto extend non-discrimination beyond employment, and merely concludes that ‘the proposal is under negotiation in the Council, where the unanimous vote of the Member States is required for its adoption’. It does not enter into the protracted, tortuous route it has taken, or its period of dormancy, or its recent revival, the continued Council controversy, or the apparently vanishing likelihood of unanimous approval ever being reached. As of this month, the disability provisions as a whole were still one of the ‘outstanding issues’.

(iv) Austerity and poverty

In pushing an austerity agenda, the EU draws upon the logic of flexicurity and activation, to pressure Member States into reducing their welfare expenditure and focus on pushing the disabled into the workplace. The Report notes that the position of the Disability Strategy is that ‘quality jobs [are] the best protection against poverty for disabled people’. However, welfare retrenchment strategies tend not to promote ‘quality’ jobs, but any jobs, and penalize those whose circumstances make it harder for them to find work.  The report notes that severe material deprivation increased amongst disabled people between 2010 and 2011, from 10.9 to 12%; an increase 2.75 times greater than that experienced by non-disabled people.  But the report does not suggest a response to this disability-inflated poverty risk increase or connect it to social protection policies. Moreover, many welfare reforms will have only started to bite since 2011.

On top of this, there are important questions about the disproportionate impact of poverty upon persons with disabilities, who without financial means may be more likely to be disempowered through family-based support or institutionalization. On being asked in the European Parliament about the prospects of increased institutionalization, Commission Vice-President Viviane Reding has suggested that the remedy lies in the Commission’s employment policies, which in the context of persons requiring substantial care, and in an employment environment still very poorly adapted to disability, seems to be an example of ardent ideological faith rather than realistic projection.

(v) Measures without impact evidence

The report is replete with references to not-easily-actionable sources, and softer measures, such as those which ‘encourage Member States’, without explanation as to the degree – or the success – of ‘encouragement’. It relies fairly heavily on the Charter of Fundamental Rights, but does not engage with the question of if and how disabled people can actually access the rights declared within, given the limitations built into the Charter and the wariness of courts to find it can create any right that does not exist elsewhere. The Charter could well still prove a valuable interpretative prism – but it would be helpful had the report engaged in the practical utility question. Where more clearly justiciable instruments are referred to, the relevant text as it affects disabled people is often plucked from recitals, suggesting that they do not reside in the more easily invoked Article based provisions, and raising questions over the degree to which individuals can rely solely on recitals.

Some of the activities cited are conspicuously outcome-light – such as the preparation of the now-stymied Directive extending non-discrimination law, or the mandates to draft accessibility standards for the built environment issued in 2007 and 2010. The report notes that they have not yet led to the standards being drafted, and does not offer any insight into whether attempts are being made to do so. While pointing to (excellent) reports by the Fundamental Rights Agency on issues such as rights to independent living and political participation, the report does not highlight the conclusions or recommendations of those reports, or suggest what follow up action is to be taken. The frequent references to the European Disability Strategy, and associated awareness campaigns (33 mentions of raising awareness), lead us to ask what effects these are actually having, and how the Commission is measuring the impact of its activities.  The report does list the Commission’s generic data gathering activities, but there is no mention of indicators of the success of its own policies and ‘soft’ measures.

As anyone who has been through the recent Research Excellence Framework process in a UK university will know, impact is not simply about saying you will make things available, or tell people stuff. We have to show that doing so makes a difference; it does not seem unreasonable to expect the same of the Commission. Such a task might avoid the pitfall of constructing a complacent defence of the status quo, and might instead encourage an active identification of things that need changing.

Some of the ideas presented here are developed in more detail in ‘Article 26: Integration of persons with disabilities’ in Peers, Hervey, Kenner and Ward (eds), Commentary on the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights (Hart: Oxford, 2014), and ‘Union citizenship and disability: restricted access to equality rights and the attitudinal model of disability’ in D. Kochenov (ed) Citizenship and Federalism in Europe, CUP, forthcoming.

Barnard & Peers: chapter 9, chapter 20 

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