If a contracting party cannot pay in US dollars, can they pay the equivalent in Euros? Set against the backdrop of force majeure, the conclusion reached by the UK Supreme Court in RTI Ltd v MUR Shipping BV was, perhaps surprisingly, no. The court held that reasonable endeavours provisos in force majeure clauses can never require a party to accept non-contractual performance (ie, performance on different terms from the contract). This comment has two aims. First, it explains why the holding should be reconsidered, and in so doing sets out a preferable approach to interpreting reasonable endeavours provisos in force majeure clauses. Second, it makes suggestions on the approach to interpreting force majeure clauses more generally. In this regard, references and observations will also be made on the position in Singapore.

In Hui Chun Ping v Hui Kau Mo (2024) 27 HKCFAR 634, the Hong Kong Court of Final Appeal considered whether an agent who acquired a secret profit in breach of fiduciary duty could raise a limitation defence. Lord Hoffmann NPJ decided that the claim against the agent did not fall within s 20(1)(b) of the Limitation Ordinance and was subject to a limitation period. This Note makes two comments on his reasoning. First, it argues that Lord Hoffmann’s recourse to the historical roots of the limitation statute should be commended, even if his articulation of it was not without its shortcomings. Second, it critiques Lord Hoffmann’s unsatisfactorily equivocal answer to whether the limitation period arose by analogy or directly under s 20(2) of the Limitation Ordinance. It suggests that it would have been desirable for him to clarify that the limitation period in Hui arose by analogy only.

For Singapore’s bench, bar and academy, Law and Technology in Singapore (Second Edition) arrives at precisely the moment when legal method, institutional design and day-to-day practice are being stress-tested by generative AI, platform regulation, digital assets and data-driven decision making. The editors frame the project against a backdrop of “technological advancements … at a breathtaking pace,” with the rise of generative AI and the metaverse among developments that mean “the law cannot stand still”. In his foreword, Chief Justice Sundaresh Menon calls the book’s scope “remarkable,” reflecting technology’s “far-reaching impact … on virtually every aspect of our legal system,” and emphasises a forward-looking posture that keeps pace while maintaining fidelity to “fundamental principles”. For practitioners, policy-makers and scholars seeking a structured, Singapore-specific map through this terrain, the volume is both an indispensable reference and a platform for critical analysis.

In the past two decades, the field of “fashion law” has emerged at the intersection of intellectual property (“IP”) and a multi-billion-dollar global industry driven by creativity and constantly changing trends. Yet the relationship between fashion and IP has remained, in many respects, under-theorised and evolving. Fashion and Intellectual Property, edited by David Tan, Jeanne Fromer and Dev Gangjee, is an impressive and timely collection that brings together leading IP scholars from around the world to explore this complex theme. The book offers a fascinating range of theoretical, doctrinal and policy insights into how various IP laws interact with the fashion industry, exploring the role that fashion plays in society, how fashion exposes the tensions in patent, design, trademark and copyright doctrines, and to what extent IP laws accommodate phenomena like upcycling and cultural appropriation. The result is a rich, scholarly examination of fashion through an IP lens, one that should interest not only IP experts but anyone curious about how law engages with creativity and culture.