Can a UK domiciled company be held liable in negligence for the acts of an independent foreign supplier? In Limbu v Dyson Technology Limited [2024] EWCA Civ 1564, the Court of Appeal refused to stay proceedings brought by migrant workers alleging forced labour at a Malaysian factory supplying the Defendant. The issue was not whether the Claimants had a valid case, but where that case should be heard on Spiliada principles: the courts of England or Malaysia.
The Claimants were employed by ATA Industrial, a Malaysian supplier of components to Dyson. They alleged false imprisonment, assault, and dangerous working conditions. Crucially, ATA was not a subsidiary of Dyson; the relationship was purely contractual. Dyson, however, enforced a strict “Ethical and Environmental Code of Conduct” and a “Migrant Worker Policy”, monitored by regular audits.
The Court of Appeal (Popplewell LJ, with whom Sir Geoffrey Vos MR and Warby LJ agreed) held that the case must proceed in England. The judgment represents a significant, if provisional, extension of the Vedanta principle from corporate groups to contractual supply chains.
The Supply Chain Extension (Liability Beyond the Subsidiary)
The central doctrinal development lies in the extension of Vedanta. Traditionally, the “parent company duty of care” has been confined to the structure of corporate groups. However, Popplewell LJ accepted that the logic of Vedanta and Okpabi rests not on shareholding, but on “operational reality” (at [18]).
The Claimants relied on “Routes 2, 3 and 4” of the Okpabi framework: that Dyson had intervened in the management of the supplier’s operations (Route 2), promulgated group-wide safety policies (Route 3), and held itself out as supervising them (Route 4). By mandating the “method” of employment practices and auditing compliance, Dyson had arguably inserted itself into the chain of causation. If its policies were defective, or its audits negligently performed, it could be liable.
While the Court acknowledged this was a “novel issue” in both English and Malaysian law (at [71]), it held the argument was plausible enough to go to trial. This conclusion creates a paradox for multinational compliance. The judgment suggests that a company which adopts an “interventionist” model over that specific risk - actively training and auditing suppliers - risks assuming a duty of care. Conversely, a company which adopts a “tick-box” approach - merely requiring suppliers to warrant compliance or sign a waiver in that respect - might successfully divest itself from the requisite “control”. There is a danger that this developing jurisprudence may generate a perverse incentive, encouraging corporations to distance themselves operationally from their supply chains to insulate themselves from liability. After all, a multinational corporation may have thousands of suppliers; how many compliance officers can they employ?
The Undertakings Battle (the Access to Justice Shield)
The decision is equally significant for its treatment of the second limb of Spiliada: whether the claimant faces a real risk of a denial of justice abroad. In Vedanta, a key reason the case stayed in England was “access to justice” - i.e. the claimants were too impoverished to fund a case in Zambia, and conditional fee agreements (CFAs/“no win, no fee”) were illegal there. Given that Malaysian lawyers might take the case on a partial CFA, and they were similarly impoverished; the Claimants faced an insurmountable funding deficit.
To bridge this “justice” gap, Dyson offered “unprecedented” undertakings, agreeing to pay for the Claimants’ interpreters, court fees, and remote technology costs. The High Court accepted these as sufficient. Popplewell LJ robustly disagreed, identifying two fatal flaws in the proposal.
First, the “paymaster” conflict. The undertakings allowed Dyson to vet costs for “reasonableness”. This would force Claimants to justify their expenditure to their adversary, potentially revealing privileged strategy. As Popplewell LJ observed, a litigant cannot be expected to seek funding approval from the very party they are suing (at [50]).
Second, the problem of incompleteness. Litigation is inherently unpredictable. The undertakings were calibrated to the current case management plan but failed to account for the “known unknowns” - interlocutory applications, unilateral experts, or procedural delays. Consequently, there remained a “real risk” that the Claimants would exhaust their funding mid-trial.
The judgment suggests that the bar for such “remedial justice” undertakings is set exceptionally high. To survive the scrutiny of the courts, a defendant seeking to displace an English forum may need to appoint an independent third party (such as independent solicitors or an escrow agent) to administer the funds, thereby removing the “paymaster” conflict. Furthermore, nothing short of an uncapped indemnity is likely to satisfy the court that the risk of a funding shortfall has been eliminated. Without such robust mechanisms, the “access to justice” argument remains a potent shield for claimants seeking to anchor cross-border disputes in England.