Introduction
Last year, a friend from law school approached me with what he considered a promising business idea.
He explained that he had another friend with the financial resources to establish an organization that would fund litigation. The model, as he described it, was simple enough. The organization would identify individuals with potentially strong legal claims who lacked the means to pursue them, finance the litigation, and, where the claims succeeded, recover an agreed percentage from the proceeds. My role in the arrangement was equally clear: I would be independently engaged as counsel to handle the legal work for such funded claimants.
At first, the proposal sounded both commercially clever and socially attractive.
Any practicing lawyer in Ghana knows that many people with legitimate claims never make it to court, not because they lack a good case, but because they simply cannot afford the cost of litigation. Filing fees can be burdensome. Legal representation is expensive. Expert evidence comes at a cost. Even the repeated transport expenses and incidental costs that accompany prolonged litigation can wear down an otherwise determined litigant. In many instances, the obstacle is not the absence of a legal remedy, but the inability to afford the process required to obtain one.
Seen from that perspective, the proposal appeared to offer a practical response to a genuine problem.
But the more I thought about it, the more uneasy I became.
Was this really an access-to-justice innovation, or was it merely an old legal mischief repackaged in modern commercial terms?
If a business actively seeks out litigants, finances their claims, and expects a share in the eventual recovery, has it created a legitimate dispute-financing model, or has it crossed into territory the common law has long regarded with suspicion? Does the arrangement become any less problematic because the lawyer handling the case is independently retained rather than formally part of the funding enterprise?
These questions are far from academic. They touch the heart of long-standing legal concerns about the commercialization of litigation and the danger of outsiders interfering in disputes for financial gain. The common law developed the doctrines of maintenance and champerty precisely to guard against such risks.
Yet the modern reality is difficult to ignore. Access to justice remains financially out of reach for many deserving litigants, while commercial litigation funding has gained varying degrees of acceptance in other jurisdictions as a practical solution to that very problem. Ghanaian law, however, appears to remain considerably more cautious.
This article examines the doctrines of maintenance and champerty within Ghanaian law, tracing their historical foundations, their reception into our legal system, and their continued relevance in contemporary contract law. More importantly, it considers whether the law, as it presently stands, is capable of distinguishing between abusive trafficking in litigation and genuine third-party funding arrangements aimed at expanding access to justice.
What Exactly Are Maintenance and Champerty?
Before discussing whether modern litigation funding arrangements can sit comfortably within Ghanaian law, it is useful to understand the old common law doctrines from which the controversy emerged.
Maintenance and champerty are not modern legal inventions. They are products of English common law, developed at a time when the legal system was deeply suspicious of strangers interfering in disputes that did not concern them.
Maintenance has traditionally been understood as the improper support of litigation by a person who has no legitimate interest in the dispute. This support could take several forms, including financial assistance, encouragement, influence, or strategic backing designed to sustain another person’s legal action.[1] Champerty is a more specific form of maintenance. It arises where the person maintaining the action does so in exchange for a share of the proceeds if the litigation succeeds.^2 Put differently, champerty is maintenance driven by profit.
The distinction is important. Every champertous arrangement is a form of maintenance, but not every act of maintenance amounts to champerty. The defining feature of champerty is the financial bargain tied to the outcome of the case.
The historical origins of these doctrines can be traced to medieval England, when the administration of justice was far more vulnerable to manipulation by powerful interests. Wealthy nobles, landowners, and politically influential individuals often involved themselves in disputes that had nothing to do with them, sometimes funding claims or defending actions not out of any genuine concern for justice, but to harass rivals, acquire land, oppress weaker parties, or exert political influence.^3 Litigation could easily become a weapon in the hands of those with means.
One of the early English authorities commonly cited in relation to the doctrine is Bradlaugh v Newdegate [2] . The dispute arose out of parliamentary election proceedings in which allegations were made that outsiders had improperly supported and encouraged litigation for purposes unrelated to the genuine pursuit of justice. In discussing the doctrine, Bowen LJ described maintenance as “wanton and officious intermeddling with the disputes of others in which the intermeddler has no interest whatever, and where the assistance he renders to one or the other party is without justification or excuse.”[3]
The common law’s hostility was therefore rooted in public policy. Courts feared that if litigation could be funded by outsiders seeking profit, the judicial process would be corrupted. Claims might be manufactured, weak cases aggressively pursued, settlements obstructed, and litigants pressured into decisions that served financial backers rather than justice itself.[4]
This suspicion endured for centuries, to the extent that maintenance and champerty were once treated not merely as civil wrongs, but also as criminal offences under English law.[5] Although the criminal and tortious dimensions of the doctrines have since been abolished in England, the public policy concerns that gave rise to them have not entirely disappeared.[6]
That is what makes the modern debate so interesting.
The world that produced these doctrines is obviously not the world we live in today. Judicial systems are more structured, legal ethics more developed, and access to justice concerns far more prominent. Yet the essential question remains familiar: should a stranger with no legitimate interest in a dispute be permitted to finance litigation in expectation of financial gain?
That question lies at the heart of modern third-party litigation funding—and explains why doctrines born centuries ago continue to provoke legal debate.
3. Does Ghana Still Recognise Champerty?
The historical existence of champerty as a doctrine of the common law is relatively easy to establish. The more difficult and far more meaningful question is whether that doctrine remains part of Ghanaian law today. That question is no longer merely academic. Across several jurisdictions, third-party litigation funding has evolved from a marginal concept into a sophisticated commercial enterprise, often justified on the basis of enhancing access to justice for claimants who may otherwise lack the resources to prosecute legitimate claims. Yet, these developments also revive ancient anxieties about the corruption of justice, speculative litigation, and the commodification of legal disputes. Against that background, the pressing question becomes whether Ghanaian law continues to recognise champerty as a doctrine capable of invalidating such arrangements.
The answer, in this writer’s respectful view, is yes. However, that answer must be reached not through instinctive reliance on inherited legal orthodoxy, but through a careful examination of Ghana’s constitutional framework, its reception of common law, judicial treatment of the doctrine, and the absence of legislative reform displacing it.
The logical starting point is the Constitution itself. The 1992 Constitution does not leave the sources of Ghanaian law to speculation. Article 11(1) expressly identifies the laws of Ghana as including the Constitution, enactments made by or under the authority of Parliament, existing law, and importantly, the common law.^1 Article 11(2) then defines the common law of Ghana as comprising “the rules generally known as the common law, the rules generally known as the doctrines of equity and the rules of customary law including those determined by the Superior Court of Judicature.”^2
The significance of these provisions cannot be overstated. They establish that the common law is not some historical residue surviving merely by convenience; it is constitutionally recognised as an active source of Ghanaian law. That recognition carries important consequences. It means that doctrines inherited through the common law do not vanish merely because they are old,
Criminal Law Act 1967 (UK), s 14(1) provides that: No person shall, under the law of England and Wales, be liable in tort for any conduct on account of its being in respect of maintenance or Champerty as known to the common law…”
infrequently litigated, or commercially inconvenient. They remain part of Ghanaian jurisprudence until displaced by constitutional development, statutory intervention, or authoritative judicial abandonment.
Champerty entered Ghanaian law through precisely this route.
Historically, the doctrines of maintenance and champerty emerged in English common law as mechanisms for protecting the administration of justice from private corruption. In medieval England, wealthy and influential individuals often financed litigation in which they had no legitimate interest, not in pursuit of justice, but to oppress opponents, manipulate judicial outcomes, or secure property and economic advantage through the courts. The law’s response was severe. Maintenance became the improper support of another person’s litigation without lawful justification, while champerty became the more aggravated variant in which the supporter financed the litigation in return for a share of the proceeds.^3
These doctrines were never simply technical rules of pleading or contractual interpretation. They were grounded in public policy. Their object was to preserve the integrity of the judicial process itself.
The question then becomes whether these doctrines were actually received into Ghanaian law.
The answer is found in one of the earliest and most instructive authorities on the subject, C.H. Smith v Société Commerciale de L’Oust Africain.^4 Although decided in the colonial era, the case remains jurisprudentially important because it squarely confronted the applicability of champerty in this jurisdiction.
The facts are worth examining in some detail.
The defendant company was owed monies by several debtors and had initiated legal proceedings to recover those debts. The plaintiff, C.H. Smith, entered into arrangements with the company under which he was to assist in the recovery exercise. His remuneration was not structured as a fixed salary but rather as a commission calculated as a percentage of amounts recovered from the debtors.
A dispute later arose concerning the precise amount payable to Smith. The trial judge found that agreements indeed existed between the parties and that some sum might otherwise have been payable. However, he refused enforcement altogether on the ground that the arrangements were champertous and therefore illegal.
On appeal, the West African Court of Appeal approached the matter with notable doctrinal clarity.
First, the court accepted that English common law principles concerning maintenance and champerty formed part of the applicable law. That alone is significant. The doctrine was not dismissed as alien, irrelevant, or obsolete. It was recognised as part of the received legal system.
However, the court refused to apply the doctrine mechanically.
The court carefully distinguished between improper intermeddling in litigation and legitimate commercial assistance connected to dispute resolution. It reasoned that Smith was not an officious stranger trafficking in litigation for speculative gain. The defendant company had already determined to pursue the recovery of its debts. Smith was not encouraging unnecessary litigation, nor was he stirring up disputes that would otherwise not have existed. Rather, he was providing assistance in carrying out an already existing recovery effort.
In effect, the court viewed him less as an intermeddling speculator and more as an authorised recovery assistant or agent.
The mere fact that his remuneration was commission-based did not, in the court’s view, transform the arrangement into champerty.
That reasoning is important because it demonstrates two propositions that remain critical today.
First, champerty was unquestionably recognised as part of the applicable law.
Second, its application was never intended to be indiscriminate.
The doctrine was not designed to prohibit every arrangement where compensation was linked to litigation outcomes. Its concern was improper interference in the administration of justice.
That principle becomes particularly important in the modern context, where simplistic assertions that “any percentage-based litigation arrangement is champertous” would be legally unsound.
Yet the public policy concerns that originally gave rise to champerty remain highly relevant.
Courts have always been concerned about the distortion of justice through speculative external involvement. A stranger funding litigation for profit may encourage weak claims, discourage reasonable settlement, pressure litigants into pursuing courses contrary to their interests, interfere with legal strategy, or transform justice into a marketplace commodity.
Indeed, even where criminal sanctions have disappeared, the public policy rationale remains intact. As C.H. Smith itself illustrates, the enforceability question does not depend upon criminal punishment. Courts may refuse enforcement simply because public policy forbids judicial assistance to such arrangements.
This brings us to the next critical inquiry: has Ghana abolished the doctrine?
There appears to be no statutory basis for saying so.
Unlike certain jurisdictions that have consciously modernised their legal approach to litigation funding, Ghana has enacted no legislation abolishing maintenance or champerty. Parliament has not legalised commercial third-party litigation funding. No statute expressly authorises speculative profit-sharing in civil disputes by non-parties. No procedural rule under C.I. 47 legitimises such arrangements. The Legal Profession Act does not recognise such a funding framework.
This silence is doctrinally important.
In Ghana’s legal hierarchy, common law principles continue to operate unless displaced. Legislative silence does not amount to abolition.
If Parliament had intended to abolish champerty, it could have done so explicitly.
It has not.
Accordingly, unless judicial development has rendered the doctrine obsolete, it remains operative.
Any argument that champerty has somehow withered away through non-use faces a serious obstacle in the form of modern Supreme Court authority.
That authority is Uniex Ghana Ltd v Rockshell International Ltd.^5
This decision is perhaps the clearest modern confirmation that champerty remains alive in Ghanaian jurisprudence.
The facts themselves read almost like a textbook illustration of why the doctrine developed.
Rockshell had a longstanding claim against the Government of Ghana arising from unpaid obligations relating to the Keta Sea Defence Wall project. The debt remained unresolved for years.
In 2004, Rockshell entered into a consultancy arrangement with Uniex Ghana. Under this arrangement, Uniex was to assist in securing payment and would receive 20% of any recovery.
When little progress appeared to be made, a second agreement followed in 2006, this time dramatically increasing Uniex’s entitlement to 50% of whatever sums might be recovered.
Eventually, Rockshell recovered approximately US$8.3 million.
Uniex demanded its contractual share.
Rockshell refused.
At trial and on appeal, several issues arose, including questions of authority, fraudulent inducement, and public policy.
What makes the Supreme Court’s decision especially significant is that it did not confine itself to narrow contractual analysis. It engaged directly with the broader public policy implications of the arrangement.
The Court examined evidence suggesting that representations had been made concerning political influence and access to public officials. That alone raised obvious concerns.
But the Court did not stop there.
It went further and expressly discussed champerty.
Drawing from common law authorities and academic definitions, the Court explained that champerty consists in a stranger supporting another person’s litigation in exchange for a share of the proceeds. The Court revisited the public policy rationale underlying the doctrine and reaffirmed the common law’s hostility to arrangements that encourage improper litigation involvement for speculative gain.
Most importantly, the Court held that Uniex’s conduct fell squarely within this concern.
The plaintiff had funded aspects of litigation, involved itself in the pursuit of another’s legal claim, expected substantial recovery from the proceeds, and lacked any independent legal interest in the dispute.
That, in the Court’s view, rendered the arrangement contrary to public policy and therefore unenforceable.
The significance of Uniex cannot be overstated.
This was not a colonial court relying on inherited orthodoxy.
This was the Supreme Court of Ghana in 2022.
And it expressly recognised champerty as a live legal doctrine.
That fact alone makes it exceedingly difficult to argue that champerty no longer exists in Ghanaian law.
One may argue that Uniex involved aggravating circumstances, particularly allegations concerning political influence and public corruption. That is true. But even if those features are isolated, the Court’s express doctrinal treatment of champerty remains unmistakable.
The doctrine was not mentioned casually.
It formed part of the Court’s substantive legal reasoning.
It is therefore modern authority for the proposition that champerty remains operative.
Some reference may also be made to Sam Jonah v Richmond Aggrey & Others, although caution is required in relying upon it.^6 That case was not decided directly on champerty. Nonetheless, its facts illustrate policy concerns similar to those underlying the doctrine.
Sam Jonah had advanced substantial financial resources in relation to litigation involving Richmond Aggrey and later asserted economic interests tied to the outcome, including rights linked to settlement proceeds.
Although the Supreme Court ultimately resolved the matter on grounds relating to solicitorclient relationships and absence of enforceable duties owed by the defendant lawyers, the case reflects judicial sensitivity toward attempts by external actors to acquire financial leverage over litigation outcomes.
While not direct authority on champerty, it is not entirely irrelevant as a policy analogue.
The modern practical question then becomes unavoidable.
Suppose a company is established in Ghana with a business model centred entirely on identifying indigent litigants, financing their legal claims, paying lawyers, influencing litigation strategy, and recovering a percentage of successful awards.
Would that arrangement survive judicial scrutiny?
Under current law, the answer is uncertain—but the uncertainty is dangerous.
Such a structure bears striking resemblance to classic champerty:
a stranger to the dispute;
financial support for litigation;
expectation of profit from the outcome;
absence of pre-existing legal interest;
commercial interference in the pursuit of another’s claim.
Absent legislative reform expressly legitimising regulated litigation funding, Ghanaian courts would likely assess such arrangements through the traditional common law lens of public policy and champerty.
That does not mean every form of dispute-related funding is unlawful.
The distinction recognised in C.H. Smith remains important.
Legitimate assistance where a bona fide interest exists is different from speculative intermeddling.
Insurers fund claims because they have contractual exposure.
Employers support employees.
Trade unions support members.
Parents support children.
These are not inherently champertous.
The doctrine targets improper speculative interference, not every supportive financial arrangement.
But where the arrangement resembles litigation trafficking, the danger becomes real.
The present legal position therefore appears reasonably clear.
Champerty remains part of Ghanaian law through constitutional reception of the common law.
It has not been abolished by statute.
Its public policy rationale remains intact.
And the Supreme Court has recently recognised and applied it.
The only genuine uncertainty lies not in whether the doctrine exists, but in where modern courts will draw its boundaries in relation to emerging litigation funding models.
Until Parliament squarely addresses the issue, commercial litigation funders in Ghana would be operating in a legally precarious environment.
Footnotes
- Constitution of the Republic of Ghana, 1992, art 11(1).
- Constitution of the Republic of Ghana, 1992, art 11(2).
- Black’s Law Dictionary (7th edn); Re Trepca Mines Ltd [1963] Ch 199.
- C.H. Smith v Société Commerciale de L’Oust Africain JELR 86062 (WACA).
- Uniex Ghana Ltd v Rockshell International Ltd Civil Appeal No J4/67/2021 (SC, 23 November 2022).
- Sam Jonah v Richmond Aggrey; Yoni Kulendi; Kulendi @ Law Civil Appeal No J4/10/2013 (SC, 19 July 2013).
- Modern Litigation Funding: The Global Shift from Prohibition to Regulation
If the doctrine of champerty emerged from a legitimate concern for protecting the integrity of the judicial process, modern legal developments across the common law world reveal an equally compelling reality: the context in which those concerns first arose has changed dramatically. Litigation today is no longer confined to medieval contests between landed aristocrats manipulating courts through retained influence. Modern civil litigation is expensive, procedurally sophisticated, document-intensive, and in many cases practically inaccessible to deserving claimants without substantial financial backing. In that altered legal environment, several jurisdictions that once treated champerty as a serious public policy offence have been compelled to reconsider whether rigid adherence to the old doctrine continues to serve justice or, paradoxically, obstructs it.
Perhaps the greatest irony in this discussion is that the jurisdiction that gave birth to champerty—England—has itself substantially moved away from the traditional hostility that once defined the doctrine. Other jurisdictions that inherited the same common law tradition have similarly evolved, though in different ways and at different speeds. Some have embraced commercial litigation funding as a legitimate feature of modern dispute resolution, subject to safeguards. Others have adopted a more cautious regulatory posture. A few remain reluctant. But what emerges unmistakably is that the global conversation has shifted. The modern debate is no longer simply whether third-party litigation funding is inherently offensive to public policy; it is increasingly whether, and how, such arrangements should be regulated to prevent abuse while preserving access to justice.
England presents the most striking example of legal evolution. The doctrine of maintenance and champerty is, after all, English in origin. For centuries, English courts viewed third-party involvement in litigation with profound suspicion. The concern was not theoretical. In an era when the judicial system was susceptible to manipulation by powerful interests, the funding of another person’s litigation by strangers with financial motives was seen as corrosive to justice. Agreements by which outsiders financed claims in exchange for a share of the proceeds were routinely condemned as unlawful.
Yet England eventually recognised that the rigid continuation of this hostility no longer reflected commercial reality or modern justice concerns. A decisive turning point came with the enactment of the Criminal Law Act 1967, which abolished criminal and tortious liability for maintenance and champerty.^1 Importantly, however, the doctrine was not entirely erased. Section 14(2) preserved the principle that certain agreements might still be contrary to public policy or otherwise unlawful. Thus, champerty ceased to be a crime and a tort, but survived in attenuated form as a public policy doctrine.
That distinction is important. England did not declare that all third-party litigation funding was automatically acceptable. Rather, it abandoned blanket prohibition in favour of a more nuanced approach.
The English courts progressively adapted to this reality. In Arkin v Borchard Lines Ltd, the Court of Appeal confronted the position of professional litigation funders and acknowledged that such funding could serve legitimate purposes in facilitating access to justice.^2 Although the court introduced the now-famous “Arkin cap” principle concerning adverse costs exposure, the broader implication was unmistakable: third-party litigation funding had entered the legal mainstream.
Subsequent developments further normalised the practice. Commercial litigation funding is now an established part of the English dispute resolution landscape, particularly in high-value commercial disputes, insolvency litigation, and collective claims. Rather than banning the practice outright, England has moved toward self-regulation and judicial supervision. The establishment of the Association of Litigation Funders and the promulgation of funding codes of conduct reflect an attempt to regulate conduct rather than prohibit the enterprise itself.
This development is profoundly significant for jurisdictions like Ghana. The birthplace of champerty has concluded that modern justice may sometimes require litigation funding, provided safeguards exist against abuse. That does not necessarily mean Ghana must follow the same path, but it does weaken any simplistic argument that inherited common law hostility remains beyond question.
Australia offers an even more expansive model.
Like England, Australia inherited the common law doctrines of maintenance and champerty. Yet Australian courts have arguably moved further in embracing litigation funding as a legitimate commercial phenomenon.
The landmark decision is Campbells Cash and Carry Pty Ltd v Fostif Pty Ltd.^3 That case involved litigation funding arrangements in the context of representative proceedings. The defendants challenged the arrangements as abusive and contrary to public policy, arguing that funders were improperly controlling litigation for profit.
The High Court of Australia rejected those arguments.
The court recognised that commercial litigation funding had become a reality of modern dispute resolution and refused to condemn it merely because profit was involved. The fact that litigation funding was a business model did not, without more, render it unlawful.
This was a significant doctrinal departure from traditional common law suspicion.
The High Court appreciated that the administration of justice must remain protected from abuse, but it declined to assume that third-party funding necessarily produces abuse. Rather, it emphasised the availability of judicial case management powers to control excesses where they arise.
That reasoning reflects a distinctly modern judicial philosophy. Instead of treating litigation funding as inherently suspect because of its historical resemblance to champerty, the Australian courts have preferred to ask whether the actual conduct in question undermines justice.
Australia’s experience has since been marked by the growth of sophisticated litigation funding, particularly in class actions. Funding companies have become significant players in commercial dispute resolution. Regulatory oversight has evolved alongside this growth, including intervention by financial regulators and statutory adjustments.
The Australian example is important because it demonstrates a mature common law system consciously choosing regulation over doctrinal rigidity.
Singapore presents a different but equally instructive trajectory.
For many years, Singapore maintained a conservative common law stance against champerty and maintenance. Courts treated such arrangements with traditional suspicion, and the doctrines remained firmly embedded in local law.
Yet Singapore eventually recognised that this position was increasingly incompatible with its ambition to become a major international dispute resolution hub.
The turning point came with legislative reform.
The Civil Law (Amendment) Act 2017 fundamentally altered the landscape by legalising thirdparty funding in certain contexts, particularly international arbitration and related proceedings.^4 This was not an uncontrolled liberalisation. Singapore proceeded cautiously, identifying specific contexts where litigation funding was commercially useful and where regulatory supervision could be meaningfully applied.
This measured approach is noteworthy.
Singapore did not abandon concern for public policy. It did not declare champerty irrelevant. Rather, it accepted that carefully regulated exceptions were both commercially sensible and consistent with justice.
Subsequent reforms broadened the practical scope of permissible funding arrangements.
Singapore’s experience is especially relevant to Ghana because both jurisdictions share common law roots and conservative legal traditions. Singapore demonstrates that reform need not be revolutionary. A jurisdiction may preserve doctrinal caution while still adapting to modern commercial realities through deliberate legislative intervention.
South Africa provides perhaps the most compelling African comparator.
Unlike the English and Australian developments, South Africa’s approach has evolved within a constitutional context where access to justice occupies central normative importance.
The leading authority is Price Waterhouse Coopers Inc v National Potato Co-operative Ltd.^5 There, the South African Supreme Court of Appeal considered the validity of litigation funding arrangements and rejected the notion that such agreements were automatically unlawful.
The court acknowledged historical concerns about abuse but concluded that properly structured funding agreements need not offend public policy.
Importantly, the court emphasised fairness, transparency, and judicial oversight.
This approach reflects a distinctly constitutional orientation. South African courts have increasingly recognised that access to justice may require financial mechanisms enabling claimants to pursue meritorious claims they could not otherwise afford.
That perspective is particularly relevant to Ghana.
Like South Africa, Ghana is a constitutional democracy committed to justice, fairness, and legal accessibility. It is difficult to ignore the reality that many deserving litigants are effectively priced out of the justice system.
South Africa’s approach therefore presents a model in which historical concerns about abuse are acknowledged, but balanced against contemporary justice imperatives.
The comparative lesson from these jurisdictions is striking.
The traditional doctrine of champerty was born from legitimate concerns about abuse of judicial process. That foundational concern has not disappeared. Indeed, even modern litigation funding can produce troubling outcomes: speculative claims, undue funder influence, distorted settlement incentives, and commodification of justice.
But most modern jurisdictions no longer treat those risks as requiring absolute prohibition.
Instead, the dominant shift has been toward regulation, supervision, and contextual judicial scrutiny.
England moved from criminal prohibition to regulated acceptance.
Australia embraced judicial tolerance and commercial legitimacy.
Singapore adopted cautious legislative reform.
South Africa balanced public policy with constitutional access to justice.
Against this backdrop, Ghana’s current legal position appears increasingly isolated.
Ghana remains formally tethered to inherited common law doctrine, reinforced by the Supreme Court’s modern recognition of champerty in Uniex Ghana Ltd v Rockshell International Ltd. Yet the broader global conversation has evolved.
The real policy question is no longer simply whether third-party litigation funding resembles historical champerty. The more important question is whether rigid adherence to that doctrine still promotes justice in a modern legal system where financial barriers routinely prevent legitimate claims from ever reaching adjudication.
This is not to suggest that Ghana should uncritically import foreign models. Legal transplants require caution. Social, institutional, and regulatory differences matter. A poorly supervised funding market in Ghana could create exactly the abuses the doctrine originally sought to prevent.
But comparative experience reveals something difficult to ignore: many jurisdictions confronted with the same historical doctrine have concluded that the better response is not outright hostility, but principled regulation.
That reality inevitably raises the question whether Ghana’s continued reliance on traditional champerty doctrine reflects deliberate legal policy—or simply inherited inertia.
Footnotes
- Criminal Law Act 1967 (UK), s 14.
- Arkin v Borchard Lines Ltd [2005] EWCA Civ 655; [2005] 1 WLR 3055.
- Campbells Cash and Carry Pty Ltd v Fostif Pty Ltd [2006] HCA 41; (2006) 229 CLR 386.
- Civil Law (Amendment) Act 2017 (Singapore). 5. Price Waterhouse Coopers Inc v National Potato Co-operative Ltd 2004 (6) SA 66 (SCA).
[1] British Cash and Parcel Conveyors Ltd v Landon Store Service Co Ltd [1908] 1 KB 1006
[2] Bradlaugh v Newdegate (1883) 11 QBD 1, 9 (Bowen LJ).
[3] Per Bowen LJ.
[4] Trendtex Trading Corporation v Credit Suisse [1982] AC 679 (HL).
[5] In re Trepca Mines Ltd (No 2) [1963] Ch 199.
[6] Criminal Law Act 1967 (UK), s 13(1) provides that: The following offences are hereby abolished, that is to say– (a) any distinct offence under the common law in England and Wales of maintenance (including Champerty, but not embracery), challenging the fight, eavesdropping or being a common barrator, a common scold or a common night walker….”
