tions treatise, co-authored (in four editions since 2000) by Mads Andersen (fødselaren) and me:

‘It is important to note that hardship triggers other legal effects than force majeure. The legal effect of force majeure is that the obligor is exempt from liability in damages, just as the same qualifying circumstances can also affect the obligor’s obligation to perform. The legal effect of hardship, on the other hand, is that the agreement (possibly after an unsuccessful attempt at renegotiation) is adapted to the new circumstances. This accords with Danish law, but here the basis for modifying the agreement lies in domestic contract law rules. Such a correction will depend on a number of concrete factors, including the incentive the parties had to anticipate the unforeseen circumstance. If the agreement has simply become more burdensome for one party, without a fundamental displacement of the initial relationship between respective benefits, there will be no basis for adapting the agreement.’ 990

5. Conclusion

‘Revocability’ is obviously the opposite of ‘irrevocability,’ but if we are only talking about a starting point amended by significant exceptions, it hardly much matters where we start (and end).

If, to take a different example, we translate ‘unconscionable’ as ‘unreasonable’ (for lack of a better corresponding term), that would gloss over important substantive differences at the domestic level, perhaps also leading the way to inappropriate conclusions in an international ‘impracticability’ context.

So, what makes the greatest impression, the common core or the differences? Maybe it depends on the direction in which we’re headed ... or on where we’re coming from.

‘Like language, comparative law faces the stark pitfalls of miscommunication and misunderstanding, but, also like language, it possesses the unique and breathtaking potentials of learning to see, to communicate, and to shed light in that elusive, inevitable, shifting, and ever-reconfiguring gap between the same and the other.’ 991