Interview with Vincent Forray, Head of Studies in Law

Well, just imagine… One autumn evening in the 1990s, at the University of Cergy-Pontoise (Val d’Oise, France), a third-year law undergraduate told me about the PhD programme in these terms: “You do research for three years, sometimes longer…”. Me: “What do you mean?” He: “I don’t know exactly, but you have to write a thesis and, if all goes well, you’ll have the chance to become a lecturer-researcher.” I find myself lost in a kind of daydream: reading, writing, thinking for several years, perhaps making a career out of it… does that really exist?
Seven years later, I defended my thesis at another French university, in Chambéry. I secured a post as a senior lecturer.
A few years passed and another revelation came my way, through a colleague invited to speak on teaching methods. I learnt that McGill University (Montréal) offers its students a ‘transsystemic’ programme involving the study of civil law and common law simultaneously from the very first year. Revolutionary! And incredibly appealing to a young lecturer and researcher striving to reconcile classical legal analysis with critical methods. Indeed, McGill seemed like a sort of in-between world where the history and theory of law, judge-made law and the civil code, comparative law and indigenous law all intermingled…
I tried my luck across the Atlantic and became an assistant professor before securing tenure six years later.
And then the Sciences Po Law School: another revolution – training lawyers in two years with no prior legal qualifications! This meant breaking down silos, linking disciplines, engaging epistemologically, and diversifying methods… All this within an institution brimming with projects… I joined the Law School in September 2020, where I have had the honour of overseeing doctoral studies for the past four years.

A sense of necessity. The need to explore legal issues at the very frontiers of the law, on its very fringes, in order to return to its core (its technical substance). Hence a certain penchant for the philosophical approach, in both research and teaching. A penchant for criticism, too, leading one to focus — to quote Foucault — “on the implicit meanings, the silent determinations and the obscure contents” of that which obliges us, constrains us, governs us.
Today, it is almost a sense of twilight: are we not witnessing the end of the law? That is to say, the law in its modern form as a system of rules and individual rights, the violation of which can be sanctioned by a judge. We may return to this later… One point, however. Why speak of the end of the law? To acknowledge the rise of techniques of governance which, being less costly and more effective, compete with legal norms. These norms are proliferating within a system that is tending to veer into the irrational. Often, moreover, as a result of the actions of legal professionals themselves… We therefore need cultural, literary and scientific resources to grasp what is increasingly functioning as law without actually being so…

Last year, I published a book with Presses de Sciences Po, co-authored with Sébastien Pimont, Culture juridique, which was developed as part of a course taught until this year at the Collège de Sciences Po: ‘How Do Lawyers Think?’. I am currently finishing a paper on the reception of the ‘early’ Derrida (the Derrida of the 1967 works) in the philosophy of law.

However, what has preoccupied me most in recent years is the crisis of legal governmentality affecting the modern form of law, as I mentioned earlier. It is not inconceivable that law – understood as the rules whose violation can be sanctioned by the courts – may come to occupy only a marginal place within techniques of governance, and even in the realm of political ideas. Nudges and techniques informed by behavioural psychology, social marketing and neuromarketing, urban architecture, algorithmic governance, manipulation, propaganda, conditioning… all these govern more effectively than legal norms, generate less uncertainty and could prove more cost-effective. Furthermore, if we contrast this set of techniques with those of government, we can discern structural similarities within it. Hence the research project in which I am currently engaged with Sébastien Pimont himself. The aim is to contribute to what Foucault—him again—called an ‘analytics of power’. With this difference: our analysis juxtaposes the techniques specific to the rule of law with those that constitute another regime of governmentality, which we are provisionally referring to as ‘orthopraxy’: techniques that enable the imposition of righteous conduct… without law.

A diversity that is remarkable and necessary. It also involves a constant questioning of methods. How can we ascertain, and how can we convey, the fruits of our reflections, readings, interviews and intellectual constructs within the field of law? Legal scholars sometimes feel a sense of unease when it comes to other disciplines. This is because the epistemological status of law is uncertain, oscillating between science and (technical) art. It is also an opportunity – a factor fostering cultural and scientific openness – that we must embrace. I have great admiration for our PhD researchers in this regard.

Patience, clarity of thought and a thirst for knowledge. Patience – to quote a dictionary: “The quality of persevering in a long and arduous undertaking”... That says it all! A PhD is a long undertaking, it’s true, and full of obstacles. You need to be aware of that. To succeed, I also believe you need to be clear-headed: about the expectations of the scientific community, about time constraints and about the feasibility of research which, whilst lengthy, will also pass very quickly… A thirst for knowledge: this is essential. It drives one’s commitment to reading, to discussion, and to a passion for learning. Without the spark of the libido sciendi (Barthes), there can be no research!

The structure of your research project is crucial. It’s difficult to get it right on your own. Don’t hesitate to ask your lecturers questions. You can also get in touch with one or more people who might supervise your thesis. It’s not compulsory, but it can help. As for presenting your project, allow me to offer a word of free advice: be careful about the help AI can provide. Many presentations suffer from the inappropriate use of this new tool: overly conventional vocabulary, clichéd references, excessive academic jargon… Here, as elsewhere, your own voice must come through!
I would add that familiarity with your future environment matters. It is therefore a good idea to look into the research areas and projects within the Law School.
Furthermore, take care with your application, particularly your statement of purpose. Why a PhD? Why Sciences Po? Why now?
Here’s a piece of advice, albeit a slightly odd one: love your application! It’s a pain to write an application, but you should nevertheless take some pleasure in it – it helps. Arm yourself with a book or an article you admire, revisit the biographies of your intellectual role models, immerse yourself in it as you would a novel… Your thinking and your writing will be all the better for it.