It was probably inevitable from the moment the two aeroplanes struck the Twin Towers a decade ago that the world was about to face a period in which the competing interests of security and liberty – two issues that go to the heart of the law's role in society – would come into prolonged conflict. The former of these interests was dominant in the five years after the attacks as the US and UK pushed on with a legally controversial conflict and ushered in a series of aggressive anti-terrorism measures. In the process, the US often sought to recast terrorism in legal terms applied to war rather than criminal procedures.

This tough stance was also evident towards the end of Tony Blair's administration, as he completed his strange journey from liberal lawyer to authoritarian hard-liner. This path culminated in a self-destructive attempt in 2005 to extend the maximum detention period without change of suspected terrorists to 90 days, which was soundly defeated.

It's possible to be an admirer of many qualities Blair demonstrated in office, while in retrospect coming to condemn the rough treatment of broadly accepted legal rights seen in Labour's third term. Blair himself famously declared that "the rules of the game are changing" with regard to the steps necessary to combat terrorism. Even those who once gave Blair the benefit of the doubt – myself included – would have to now conclude he was quite simply wrong.

On balance, 9/11 contributed also to further erosion of the deference that judges once displayed towards the executive and security services. This is probably a positive development given the huge legislative power afforded to Government under our constitution. Still, this often put judges in an ambiguous position; while they have been more exposed to the rough game of politics, they seem more than ever in demand to clean up public controversies by chairing public inquiries.

True, concepts like the rule of law, human rights and international law are frequently invoked crassly. Yet the value of some of these notions can rest as much in their ability to help societies maintain good governance and a moral position that can stand up to international scrutiny as much as it does on strict legal application.

Shortcomings in this regard in the US and UK mean such issues seem far more relevant – and far less like the topics confined to the chattering classes – than they did a decade ago. As elegantly as it is written, it is hard to imagine Tom Bingham's The Rule of Law achieving the wider resonance it managed had it not been for the era of control orders, water-boarding and Gitmo.

In attempting to sacrifice broadly-established legal concepts in the name of security, the US, and to a lesser extent the UK, has seen a huge loss of capital – morally, fiscally and politically – over the last 10 years. As such, the legal impact of 9/11 has so far been a reassertion of the rule of law, not its humbling.