On Value Judgments and Consequence-Based Arguments in Judicial Adjudication

Every time a judge decides a difficult case, they are not merely matching facts to a rulebook like a librarian filing a book. They are making a choice that shapes the future. When the law is unclear, or when two rules seem to clash, the judge must step beyond the text and ask a deeper question: what kind of world will this decision create? This is the realm of value judgment, where the court weighs what is right, fair, or beneficial for society. For decades, legal scholars have searched for a way to make these heavy, subjective choices feel objective and reliable, hoping to find a method that removes personal bias and guarantees a correct answer. One popular idea suggests that if judges simply look at the future results of their decisions, they can solve this problem. This approach, known as consequence-based argumentation, proposes that a judge should predict what will happen if they choose one path over another, and then pick the path that leads to the best outcome. It sounds like a straightforward, scientific way to run a courtroom: predict the future, calculate the benefit, and choose the winner.

Two researchers, Lei Lei and Lindi Bai, from the China University of Political Science and Law, set out to test whether this method can truly do the heavy lifting of objectifying value judgments. They examined the logic behind consequence-based arguments, breaking the process down into two distinct steps: predicting what will happen and evaluating whether those results are good. Their investigation reveals that while looking at consequences is a useful tool, it is not the magic key that unlocks the mystery of judicial decision-making. In fact, the authors argue that relying solely on this method is impossible because the very act of predicting and evaluating consequences requires the judge to make the same kind of value judgments they were trying to avoid. The study concludes that consequence-based arguments cannot replace the complex, messy work of weighing different values; they can only add a layer of analysis to it, and they must be combined with other established legal standards to work at all.

The researchers began by clarifying what they meant by "consequences." In the broadest sense, people often use the word to mean anything a decision might achieve, including abstract goals like justice or order. However, the authors narrowed this definition to focus specifically on general social consequences—the tangible effects a ruling has on society as a whole, such as changes in behavior, economic costs, or social stability. They distinguished between the two parts of the argument: consequence prediction and consequence evaluation. Prediction is the act of forecasting what will happen if a specific decision is made. Evaluation is the act of deciding whether those predicted results are desirable or undesirable. The paper argues that these two steps are fundamentally different tasks that cannot be merged into a single, simple formula.

When the authors looked at the first step, consequence prediction, they found significant logical and practical hurdles. To predict a future outcome with certainty, one would need a universal law that guarantees a specific result from a specific action, much like a law of physics. If a judge decides X, then Y must happen. But in the social world, such ironclad laws rarely exist. The connection between a court ruling and its future effects is usually probabilistic, not certain. A judge might guess that allowing children to choose their own surnames will increase social management costs, but there is no scientific law that proves this will definitely happen. The social world is too complex, and the chain of cause and effect is too long and tangled to be captured by a simple "if-then" statement. Furthermore, judges are not prophets. They lack the ability to foresee every ripple effect of their decisions, and even experts in sociology or economics struggle to predict the future with high accuracy. Relying on these predictions alone would turn the courtroom into a guessing game, stripping the legal process of its need for reasoned justification and replacing it with speculation.

Even if a judge could perfectly predict the future, the second step, consequence evaluation, presents an even deeper problem. Knowing that a decision will lead to a certain result does not tell the judge whether that result is good. To make that determination, the judge must apply a standard of value. The authors point out that consequence-based arguments do not come with their own built-in ruler for measuring "goodness." Instead, they must borrow a standard from somewhere else. Some scholars suggest using welfare economics, which measures success by the total amount of happiness or wealth created for society. However, the researchers show that this standard is deeply flawed. It often ignores how that wealth is distributed, treating a situation where one person becomes incredibly rich while everyone else suffers as acceptable, as long as the total sum goes up. Other standards might focus on moral duties, cultural traditions, or human dignity. Because there is no single, agreed-upon standard for what makes a consequence "desirable," the judge is forced to make a choice about which standard to use. This choice is itself a value judgment.

The paper demonstrates that consequence-based arguments do not eliminate the need for value judgments; they merely shift the location where those judgments occur. Instead of asking "Is this rule fair?", the judge ends up asking "Is this specific consequence the best one we can achieve?" But to answer that, they must first decide what "best" means. The authors illustrate this with real cases, such as a dispute over whether children must inherit their parents' surnames. A judge might argue that allowing children to choose their own names would harm social order. But to make that argument, the judge must already believe that social order is more important than individual choice. This belief is a value judgment that exists before the consequence is even calculated. The method of looking at consequences does not generate this belief; it only uses it.

Furthermore, the researchers highlight that different fields of study offer different, often conflicting, ways to evaluate consequences. An economist might see a decision as good because it increases efficiency, while a sociologist might see it as bad because it disrupts community stability. When these different standards clash, the judge must balance them against each other. This balancing act is not a mathematical calculation that yields a single correct answer. It is a complex negotiation between competing values, such as freedom versus security, or efficiency versus fairness. The authors argue that trying to reduce this process to a single metric, like maximizing social welfare, is a mistake. It oversimplifies the richness of human values and ignores the fact that some rights and principles are so important that they cannot be traded away for a slight increase in overall happiness.

The study concludes that while consequence-based arguments are a valuable part of the judicial toolkit, they cannot stand alone as the sole method for making decisions. They are not a substitute for legal reasoning, nor are they a way to bypass the difficult work of weighing values. Instead, they function best when combined with established legal doctrines and procedural safeguards. The authors suggest that the idea of a single, perfect method to objectify value judgments is a misunderstanding of how law works. Judicial adjudication is not a machine that processes inputs to produce a single, inevitable output. It is a human activity that requires navigating uncertainty, balancing competing principles, and making choices that reflect a society's deepest commitments. The complexity of these choices cannot be solved by a simple formula; it is a necessary part of the process that ensures justice remains a living, breathing practice rather than a rigid calculation.