Donoghue, a Scottish case, is a well-known case in English law that influenced tort law and, in particular, the concept of negligence.

Mrs Donoghue’s acquaintance brought her a ginger beer from Paisley’s Wellmeadow Café on August 26, 1928. She only drank approximately half of the bottle, which was made of black opaque glass, before pouring the rest into a tumbler. The decayed remnants of a snail floated out at this point, allegedly giving her shock and severe gastroenteritis.

Mrs Donoghue was unable to claim for breach of contract because she was not a party to any contract. As a result, she brought legal action against Stevenson, the manufacturer, which went all the way to the House of Lords.

The HoL had to decide whether, according to accepted case law, the manufacturer owed Mrs Donoghue a duty of care in the absence of contractual ties. Donoghue was essentially a test case to see whether she had a claim, not if she was entitled to pay for her losses.

The law of negligence was extremely limited at the time, and it could only be used if there was a pre-existing contractual connection. In a previous instance involving two toddlers and floating mice, it was determined:

A manufacturer had no duty of care to a customer while placing a product on the market unless the manufacturer knew the product was hazardous because of a flaw and hid it from the consumer (i.e., fraud); or the product was dangerous per se, and the manufacturer neglected to warn the consumer.

Mrs Donoghue pursued her case to the House of Lords, unlike Mullen, who halted at the Court of Session.

The House of Lords ruled in Mrs Donoghue’s favour, with Lord Atkin’s leading decision given in a 3-2 majority, with Buckmaster L and Tomlin L dissenting. The case’s ratio decidendi is not simple. Indeed, it might be read so narrowly that it establishes a responsibility not to offer Scottish widows opaque bottles of ginger beer containing the decomposing remnants of a dead snail.

In a broader sense, the choice consists of many elements: First, carelessness is different from other torts; second, a duty may be created without a contractual connection; and third, producers owe a responsibility to the customers who will use their goods.

The primary result of Donoghue, and what it is best known for, is Lord Atkin’s further development of the neighbour principle, who said: “The rule that you are to love your neighbour becomes law; you must not injure your neighbour; and the lawyer’s question, who is my neighbour? receives a limited response. You must take reasonable precautions to prevent actions or omissions that you may reasonably predict would cause harm to your neighbour. So, who is my next-door neighbour-in-law? The answer seems to be people who are so closely and immediately impacted by my conduct that I ought properly to think of them as being thus affected while I’m thinking about the actions or omissions at issue.

Mrs Donoghue had shown that she had a legal cause of action based on her claims.

Donoghue wasn’t the first case to try to separate negligence from the contract; Lord Ormidale in Mullen said a few years before, “… it would appear to be reasonable and equitable to hold that, in the circumstances and apart entirely from the contract, there exists a relationship of duty between the maker and the consumer of the beer.” As a result, the philosophy is founded on the rule of law and morals. Donoghue’s influence on tort law cannot be overstated; it was a watershed event that essentially separated tort from contract law.

However, it’s essential to note that Donoghue was a watershed moment in the development of a new concept, as Lord Reid put it:”… the well-known phrase in Lord Atkin’s speech should, I believe, be considered as a declaration of principle.” It should not be regarded as a legislative definition. In new situations, it will need qualification. ‘

Hedley Byrne v Heller, a case involving economic damage, was the next significant step in the “neighbour concept.” The locus classicus of the ‘neighbour test’, on the other hand, maybe found in another economic loss case, Caparo Industries v Dickman:

What emerges is that, in addition to the foreseeability of damage, there must be a relationship of ‘proximity or ‘neighbourhood’ between the party owing the duty and the party to whom it is owed, and the situation must be one in which the court considers it fair, just, and reasonable.

As a result, the criteria may be summarised as follows: predictability, closeness, and fairness (policy considerations). There has been considerable overlap between the criteria, according to Lord Hoffman, who states that the differences between them are “slightly permeable but probably none the worse for it.”

Because Caparo was concerned with economic loss, it was argued unsuccessfully in Mitchell and another v Glasgow City Council that it had little application to personal injury claims. Lord Hope stated,”… the origins of the fair, just, and reasonable test show that its utility is not confined to that category.”

Donoghue’s decision has resonated across the legal system. To the advantage and injury of some, it effectively created a new field of law. Personal injury, for example, is based on both the statutory obligation and the “neighbour concept.” Indeed, there are concerns about an American-style “compensation culture,” which Lord Hobhouse best expressed when he linked it to the restriction of individual liberty: “the pursuit of an unrestrained culture of blame and compensation has many evil consequences, one of which is unquestionably the interference with the liberty of the citizen.”

Interestingly, Donoghue never put the facts to the test; we’ll never know whether there was a snail in the bottle.