Jack Balkin: jackbalkin at yahoo.com
Bruce Ackerman bruce.ackerman at yale.edu
Ian Ayres ian.ayres at yale.edu
Mary Dudziak mary.l.dudziak at emory.edu
Joey Fishkin joey.fishkin at gmail.com
Heather Gerken heather.gerken at yale.edu
Abbe Gluck abbe.gluck at yale.edu
Mark Graber mgraber at law.umaryland.edu
Stephen Griffin sgriffin at tulane.edu
Bernard Harcourt harcourt at uchicago.edu
Scott Horton shorto at law.columbia.edu
Andrew Koppelman akoppelman at law.northwestern.edu
Marty Lederman msl46 at law.georgetown.edu
Sanford Levinson slevinson at law.utexas.edu
David Luban david.luban at gmail.com
Gerard Magliocca gmaglioc at iupui.edu
Jason Mazzone mazzonej at illinois.edu
Linda McClain lmcclain at bu.edu
John Mikhail mikhail at law.georgetown.edu
Frank Pasquale pasquale.frank at gmail.com
Nate Persily npersily at gmail.com
Michael Stokes Paulsen michaelstokespaulsen at gmail.com
Deborah Pearlstein dpearlst at princeton.edu
Rick Pildes rick.pildes at nyu.edu
Richard Primus raprimus at umich.edu
K. Sabeel Rahmansabeel.rahman at brooklaw.edu
Alice Ristroph alice.ristroph at shu.edu
Neil Siegel siegel at law.duke.edu
Brian Tamanaha btamanaha at wulaw.wustl.edu
Mark Tushnet mtushnet at law.harvard.edu
Adam Winkler winkler at ucla.edu
The word “emolument” occurs sixteen
times in William Blackstone’s Commentaries on the Laws of England. Here is a list of chapters in which the term appears:
Book I (Of the Rights
1.Introduction (“Of the Study, Nature, and Extent of the
Laws of England”)
a.Section IV (“Of the Countries Subject to the Laws of
2.Chapter VII (“Of the King’s Prerogative”)
3.Chapter VIII (“Of the King’s Revenue”)
4.Chapter XI (“Of the Clergy”)
5.Chapter XVIII (“Of Corporations”)
II (Of the Rights of Things)
6.Chapter III, #1
(“Of Incorporeal Hereditaments”)
7.Chapter III, #2
(“Of Incorporeal Hereditaments”)
(“Of the Ancient English Tenures”)
9.Chapter XVIII (“Of
Title by Forfeiture”)
10.Chapter XXI (“Of
Alienation by Matter of Record”)
11.Chapter XXXI (“Of
Title by Bankruptcy”)
12.Appendix No. II (“Modern
Conveyance by Lease and Release”)
a.Sect. 1 (“Lease
or Bargain and Sale, For a Year”)
13.Appendix No. II (“Modern
Conveyance by Lease and Release”)
a.Sect. 2 (“Dead
IV (Of Public Wrongs)
(“Of Offences Against God and Religion”)
15.Chapter XVII (“Of
Offences Against Private Property”)
16.Chapter XXXIII (“Of
the Rise, Progress, and Gradual Improvements of the Laws of England”
In their white paper on conflicts of interest, Donald
Trump’s lawyers claimed that the original public meaning of “emolument” was “payment or other benefit received as a consequence of discharging the
duties of an office.” Since then, other commentators have also defended an “office-related” definition of the term (see, e.g., here, here, and here).
Blackstone does not support
such a narrow reading. Occasionally, he refers to the emoluments of government officials, such as postmasters, civil magistrates, and naval seamen. But the significance of these public employment contexts must be interpreted cautiously, and on the whole they appear to be exceptional. The majority of Blackstone's usages of "emolument" involve benefits other than government salaries or perquisites. They also reflect the broader
meaning of the term—“profit, “gain,” “benefit,” or “advantage”—one finds in the
principal eighteenth-century Englishdictionaries.
For example, Blackstone uses “emolument” in the
context of family inheritance, private employment, and private ownership of
land. He refers to “the power and
emoluments” of monastic orders; to “the rents and emoluments of the estate”
managed by ecclesiastical corporations; and to the “pecuniary emoluments” which
the law of bankruptcy assigns to debtors.
Blackstone describes the advantages to
third-party beneficiaries of a gift as “the emolument of third persons.” He uses “emolument of the exchequer” to refer
to an increase in the national treasury.
Finally, in explaining the law of corporations, he
characterizes “parish churches, the freehold of the church, the churchyard, the
parsonage house, the glebe, and the tithes of the parish” as among the
“emoluments” vested in the church parson.
A further illustration of the fact that Blackstone understood emoluments to relate to private commercial transactions can be found in the forms
of “Conveyance by Lease and Release” that appear at the end of Book II of the Commentaries. In the first of these
forms (“Lease, or Bargain and Sale, for a year”), Blackstone suggests the
following language for conveying parcels of land:
THIS INDENTURE . . . witnesseth,
that [A.B. and C.]. . . have bargained and sold . . . unto [D.E. and F.G.] . .
. the capital messuage, called Dale Hall . . . and all those their lands . . . called
or known by the name of Wilson’s Farm . . . together with all and singular
houses, dove-houses, barns, buildings, stables, yards, gardens, orchards,
lands, tenements, meadows, pastures, feedings, commons, woods, underwoods,
ways, waters, watercourses, fishings, privileges, profits, easements,
commodities, advantages, emoluments, hereditaments, and
appurtenances whatsoever to the said capital messuage and farm . . .”
Blackstone uses the same language in his second form
(“Deed of Release”). Both forms can also be
found in his Analysis of the Laws of England (1756), published ten years earlier. Yet Blackstone probably did not create these forms on his own.
Many form books and other legal manuals of the period included
similar templates. In Giles Jacob’s Law Dictionary (1729), for instance,
which included not only a dictionary of legal terms, but also writs, case reports, and deeds and conveyances, one finds a “Form of a Release and Conveyance of Lands” with almost identical language, in which “A.B.”
conveys to “C.D.” a piece of property together with “all . . . Easements,
Profits, Commodities, Advantages, Emoluments, and Hereditaments whatsoever.”
When Americans bought and sold property during the
founding era, they frequently referred to emoluments in their deeds and conveyances. To take one pertinent illustration, on January 5, 1787, Francis Lewis, a prominent New Yorker who signed the Declaration of
Independence and Articles of Confederation, placed a notice in The New-York Packet announcing the sale of land at a public auction, together with “all buildings, ways,
paths, profits, commodities, advantages, emoluments and hereditaments
whatsoever to the said messuage or tenement and lot of ground belonging.” Lewis' advertisement ran throughout the spring and summer of 1787. As with Blackstone’s and
Jacob’s form contracts, the emoluments to which he referred were not government salaries or fringe benefits. Instead, they were benefits that belonged to
and ran with the land.
Two final points worth noting about Blackstone's understanding of "emolument" concern his last will
and testament and his argument in Tonson v. Collins.
By a clause in his will, Blackstone directed that his collection of case reports should be published after his death and that “the Produce thereof be carried to and considered part of my
personal Estate.” Blackstone’s brother-in-law,
James Clitherow, who served as his executor, fulfilled this obligation by
publishing two volumes of Blackstone's case notes in 1781. In his preface to Reports of Cases Determined in the Several Courts of Westminster-Hall from 1746 to 1779: Taken and compiled by Sir William Blackstone, Clitherow quoted
the foregoing clause to explain why he was not at liberty to give away any of these volumes as a present.Clitherow explained that “he [did] not think
himself justified in doing so, as Trustee for the Author’s Children, to whose Emolument the Profits are specifically directed to be applied.”
In characterizing Blackstone’s profits in this manner, Clitherow may have had in mind Tonson v. Collins, an important copyright case which Blackstone argued before King's Bench in 1761 and which appears in the first volume of the Reports.In summarizing his own argument in that case, Blackstone wrote: “No
Man has a Right to make a Profit, by thus publishing the Works of another,
without the Consent of the Author.It
would be converting, to one’s own Emolument, the Fruits of another’s Labour.” Blackstone returned to this topic in the Commentaries, expressing similar ideas in different terms: "When a man by the exertion of his rational powers has produced an original work, he has clearly a right to dispose of that identical work as he pleases, and any attempt to take it from him, or vary the disposition he has made of it, is an invasion of his right of property."
Based upon the foregoing considerations, it seems clear that Blackstone did not understand "emolument" in the restricted fashion advocated by Trump's lawyers. Nor, it seems, did the founders themselves. The current deadline for the President to respond to the second amended complaint in CREW et al., v. Trump is June 9. It remains to be seen what originalist or historical arguments, if any, the Department of Justice will make to Judge Ronnie Abrams, to whom the case is assigned.
Why Trump campaigned like a populist and governs like a sellout
Although Donald Trump campaigned as a populist during the 2016 campaign, he has not governed like one. Instead, in domestic policy he has taken positions that are largely consistent with a very conservative business-oriented Republican who wants to lower taxes on the wealthy, slash entitlements, and lift regulatory scrutiny from business. His working class supporters have gotten little economic help from his policies, and are unlikely to receive it in the future.
Trump's health care bill, far from protecting everyone (as he promised), will cause 23 million Americans to become uninsured. It will raise premiums for the oldest and sickest Americans, which include many of his most fervent working-class supporters. Although Trump promised during the campaign that he would not touch Social Security, Medicare or Medicaid, his proposed budget cuts bothSocial Securityand Medicaid. Although he promised to help people who are out of work find jobs, he proposed budget slashesjob trainingprograms, and so on and so on. Who do his policies benefit most? Not the working class. The great beneficiary of the health care bill, it turns out, is the wealthiest Americans, because the AHCA is actually a 800 billion dollartax cutdisguisedashealth care policy. Trump's tax proposals also feature tax reductions for the very wealthy(including Trump himself). Trump has slow-walked his promises on trade policy as well. Although Trump may actually make some changes here, they are unlikely to be bring back jobs in the way that he promised; there is very little chance that his trade policies will actually help working-class Americans, as opposed to people like Trump himself. The one area where Trump has remained populist is immigration; his controversial travel ban was blocked by the federal courts. Yet even here, Trump ultimately backed away from insisting on Congressional appropriations for his famous wall.
Although pundits and supporters alike imagined that Trump would move the Republican Party toward a genuine economic populism, that is not what has happened.
What explains this turn around? The explanation is simple if we make one very important assumption. The assumption is that when it comes to ideology, Trump doesn't really have many positions that he strongly believes in. On the other hand, he does have a few fixed goals that he really cares about. He likes dominance and winning, he wants to stay in power, and he wants to make money for himself and for his family.
This makes Trump like any number of autocrats in history. Such autocrats often present themselves as populists before gaining power. They promise to eliminate corruption and take care of the masses. Once in power, they discard many of the allies who helped them gain power. They shamelessly enrich themselves and members of their family. Above all, they work to stay in power by paying off a smaller circle of cronies and supporters who help them stay in power.
The United States is not a dictatorship or an autocracy. It is a republic with broad political participation. Therefore Trump's playbook is a bit different than that of the standard autocrat, but the basic strategy is the same. Trump can best achieve his actual goals by aligning himself with the policy views of the Republican donor class, who, in turn, support Congressional Republicans. If Trump follows this path, there are fewer people to pay off, and their support is far more important to his political survival. If that means throwing his working class supporters under the bus, so be it. He wants power and wealth, not good policy.
The Constitution and Judicial Credibility: The Fourth Circuit's Travel Ban Ruling
Roger Gregory, Chief Judge of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit, starts his recent ruling on President Trump's travel ban with these two questions: 1) is the Constitution (still) "a law for rulers and people equally in war and in peace (citing Ex parte Milligan)?; and 2) if so, does it protect the plaintiffs' right to challenge an Executive Order that "in text speaks with vague words of national security, but in context drips with religious intolerance, animus, and discrimination"? Framed this way, it's not difficult to predict the answer--a resounding yes, as set forth in Judge Gregory's 79-page opinion for the en banc court, which ruled 10-3 in International Refugee Assistance Project v. Trump to affirm the nationwide injunction against the ban.
Yet, these questions capture the essence of the Trump administration's defense of the President's revised Executive Order (EO) suspending travel to the United States by nationals from six Muslim-majority nations. (The revised EO was issued in March, revised after multiple courts had blocked the first EO issued in January). The administration argued that courts could not look beyond the four corners of the EO to question the motives underlying it, but instead had to give virtually complete deference to the president's determination regarding the entry of noncitizens into the United States in the exercise of his immigration and national security powers. That meant ignoring the mountain of evidence--including multiple statements by Trump and his close advisors-- that animus, not national security, was the driving force behind the travel ban.
In finding plaintiffs had established a likelihood of success on their Establishment Clause claim, Judge Gregory accepted the Supreme Court's 1972 decision in Kleindienst v. Mandelas the starting point. But Judge Gregory read Mandel, which upheld the denial of a nonimmigrant visa to a Marxist journalist,against the backdrop of other, more recent decisions (e.g., INS v. Chada,INS v. St. Cyr) that indicated the Constitution applies to immigration in more than just name and that federal courts have a meaningful role in enforcing it. Mandel may support substantial deference to the government on visa denials, Judge Gregory found, but that deference is conditioned on the government's provision of a "facially legitimate and bona fide reason." Although the Court found the stated reason (protecting the nation from terrorist activities by foreign nationals) facially legitimate, it determined that plaintiffs had made an affirmative showing of bad faith. Following Justice Kennedy's controlling opinion in Kerry v. Din, the Court then proceeded to look behind the stated reasons. That showing triggered the application of the Lemontest for Establishment Clause challenges, which effectively shifted the frame of analysis from broad federal immigration power to rigorous constitutional norms against religious discrimination. Applying Lemon, Judge Gregory found that a reasonable observer would likely conclude the Order's primary purpose was to exclude individuals from the United States on the basis of their religion, in violation of the Establishment Clause. Three concurring opinions joined the Court's ruling on the Establishment Clause, while finding that the EO also likely violated federal immigration statutes by discriminating based on religion.
What is striking about the Fourth Circuit's decision is how unwilling so many judges were to countenance the Trump administration's efforts to avoid the evidence of religious animus by limiting its review to the face of the Order or removing that evidence from consideration (because, for example, many of Trump's statements were made as a presidential candidate, not as president). Both Judge Gregory's opinion and the concurring opinions all stressed that the Court could not close its eyes to the evidence of invidious discrimination. ("There's none so blind as they that won't see," Judge Gregory wrote, quoting Jonathan Swift). They all understood that to conclude otherwise would make a mockery of judicial review and undermine the Court's credibility.
A Ninth Circuit panel is expected to issue its decision soon in another challenge to the EO. Attorney General Sessions, meanwhile, has announced the government will appeal the Fourth Circuit's ruling to the Supreme Court. But despite the manifest importance of the issues, the court of appeals may be the final stop for this litigation, especially if the Ninth Circuit reaches a similar result as the Fourth Circuit. The travel ban is due to expire on June 14. So unless Trump extends the Executive Order, the Justices may decline to hear a dispute that's moot. And even those Justices who generally favor broad executive powers in matters involving immigration and national security may be less than eager to take a case that stakes those powers on a record that, as Judge Gregory put it, "drips with religious intolerance, animus, and discrimination."
Locating the absolute minimum level of policy “seriousness” our public sphere demands
Polls close soon in today’s special congressional election in Montana. Last night, the Republican candidate Greg Gianforte reacted angrily to a Guardian reporter’s questions about the CBO score of the Republican health care bill by body-slamming the reporter to the ground and repeatedly punching him, according to eyewitnesses, one of whom was a reporter for Fox News, Alicia Acuna.
This put Acuna in an awkward position. She and her two crew members were the closest eyewitnesses to an extraordinary and extremely newsworthy event—but also one that would likely harm the prospects of the Republican candidate in a very high-profile special election. Thus, core norms of Acuna’s profession (tell the story, get the facts out, do it quickly and fairly) came into unusually sharp conflict with core norms of her employer (tell the pro-Republican side of the story, or else minimize the story). To her great credit, Acuna put out a statement last night that was straightforward and unequivocal. She stated that after Ben Jacobs, the Guardian reporter, asked his CBO question a second time, “Gianforte grabbed Jacobs by the neck with both hands and slammed him into the ground behind him. [My crew] and I watched in disbelief as Gianforte then began punching the reporter. . . . To be clear, at no point did any of us who witnessed this assault see Jacobs show any form of physical aggression toward Gianforte.” (She clearly told the same thing to the police; Gianforte has been charged with assault.) Early this morning, Acuna was interviewed on Fox News about the incident. Some conflict between the two sets of norms within which she must operate—a conflict inherent in Fox News’ position in the political and journalistic ecosystem—was unavoidable. Again to her credit, Acuna described the body-slamming on air. She then made a slight shift, and read out a Gianforte campaign statement about what happened, the text of which filled viewers’ screens—a statement entirely at odds with her own account and, it would seem, with reality. (In the statement’s version of events, Jacobs, the reporter, was the aggressor.) Acuna did not contradict the campaign statement. She just read it out. She never restated on air the most important point from her written statement from the night before, the point that most directly contradicted the statement she had just read: that “at no point did any of us who witnessed this assault see Jacobs show any form of physical aggression toward Gianforte.” To say on air that one side—the Republican side—of this “controversy” was simply lying would have conflicted too much with one of the two sets of norms to which Acuna is subject as a journalist working for Fox News.
This incident is interesting for all kinds of reasons. Some of its most interesting resonances have to do with the nature of Fox News. The way Fox News employees do their jobs has an enormous aggregate effect on one of the big political questions of our time: whether we can still have a public sphere, a national conversation, based on shared facts that are actually true.
On this front, the incident last night in Montana provides a useful boundary-delimiting end case. It would be possible, I would think, to staff a news organization or a political organization (or a hybrid of the two) with people who, when required, will simply go out and flatly lie about events they have just witnessed with their own eyes. However, although possible, this is tough to sustain. Making people flatly lie in a sort of black-is-white, up-is-down manner about facts where there is a clear truth of the matter, and they know it, tends to erode their self-respect. It makes it hard to hire and keep good employees. It makes you more vulnerable to disloyalty and perhaps to leaks born of employees’ internal torment and alarm.
What is easier and more sustainable than demanding flat lies is to trade instead on norms that are part of the role-morality of journalism itself. One important set of norms within journalistic role-morality surrounds the idea that all sides of a controversy should have a fair chance to have their say. When I watched Acuna’s broadcast interview, compared to her written statement, I heard her simply putting a little more weight on that particular journalistic norm, and less weight on the competing, sometimes-conflicting set of norms about stating the facts and getting the truth out. Like a subtle shift of weight from one foot to the other, this is just a change of stance within a firmly journalistic posture; it doesn’t feel like an active betrayal of journalism’s core values.
In a democracy, we depend on journalism about many topics. But we especially depend on journalism about public policy. The challenging thing about public policy journalism is that the journalists are never eyewitnesses to the body-slam. In order to understand what’s at stake in any given bill or regulation, journalists rely heavily on others’ expertise. And those others are not eyewitnesses either. Instead they are experts, who use canons of expert knowledge to assess and predict the effects of any change in the law and who it will affect and how. The experts operate in a complex ecosystem with journalists who credential them as sources of relevant knowledge and then transmit that knowledge to a wide audience. The journalists themselves are in the strange position of providing most citizens with most of what we need to know about important public questions that neither we nor the journalists can be sure we understand without help—and yet these are questions for which we, the people, are ultimately responsible.
The whole system works in part because the experts—politicians, academics, authors, think tank scholars, and assorted others—in many cases have their own forms of role-morality that (hopefully) constrain them from too wildly distorting the truth. When that breaks down, the whole system by which journalists communicate with the people about policy breaks down as well. It becomes possible to have national political debates—even consequential, electorally significant debates—about questions where the premises are simply untrue.
That brings me to the real topic of this blog post: the Trump administration’s budget. Famously (in some circles, as discussed below), it does not add up, due to a $2 trillion double-counting of the already-wildly-inflated benefits of cutting taxes for economic growth. The question is how we should understand this crazy $2 trillion hole at the heart of the budget. One might criticize it as breathtakingly sloppy, or view it as an error. But in my view, that’s the wrong way to look at it. Mick Mulvaney, the budget director who shaped this document, knows what he is doing. He is aiming to specify the budget with exactly the right level of policy “seriousness” to satisfy non-experts—journalists first of all, and then indirectly their viewers and listeners and readers—that the budget document is credible enough to be taken seriously. The question is where exactly that line is. Just how much can you get away with? It’s possible that in this case Mulvaney may have miscalculated and overshot the mark. But that is the essential game: to make promises just serious-sounding enough that they avoid immediate disintegration under the most cursory forms of scrutiny that are possible within the constraints of the abilities and norms of the relevant journalists—and no more. That way you maximize the amount of good news you can credibly promise, and minimize the amount of bad news you must acknowledge.
One Thought on the Future of the Travel Ban Litigation
Gerard N. Magliocca
The expressed purpose of the President's Executive Order is that we need a temporary travel ban from six countries until new procedures are established to ensure that visitors or immigrants from those six countries do not pose a security threat. Let's assume that the Administration seeks certiorari from the Fourth Circuit en banc opinion and that certiorari is granted. The case cannot possibly be argued until December at the earliest, you would think.
By then, though, shouldn't the new procedures be in place? If they are, then the temporary travel ban will be rescinded and the case will be moot. If they are not, then the Executive Order will look like a phony document (in other words, a permanent rather than a temporary travel ban) that will make its intent all the more suspect without having to delve into presidential campaign statements or what an aide said on cable news. The former seems like the more likely outcome, thus I doubt that this case will ever be heard by the Justices. Posted
by Gerard N. Magliocca [link]
The Fourth Circuit & Animus Under Mandel
(cross-posted at Take Care)
In the recent travel ban appeals, the acting solicitor general (ASG) relied largely on a case called Kleindanst v. Mandel to argue that those outside the country are not protected by the Establishment Clause. But, as the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals observed today in its decision blocking the travel ban, he also unwittingly helped make the case against the ban in his description of Mandel’s holding. The Fourth Circuit reasoned that while matters of immigration require deference to the executive, this deference does not extend to executive orders based in “bad faith” or animus.
In this post I clarify that logic and show why it doomed the ASG's position.
In Mandel, the Court concluded that immigration rules that were alleged to have discriminated on the basis of ideology did not violate the Free Speech Clause of the First Amendment. At oral argument in the Fourth Circuit travel ban case, the ASG argued that Mandel offers an alternative to cases like Church of Lukumi Babalu Aye, Inc. v. Hialeah (1992) and Lemon v. Kurtzman (1971) in thinking about how to apply the Religion Clauses in cases involving those outside the country (or at our borders). He contended that, under Mandel and subsequent cases interpreting it, all the government need show in the immigration context is a “rational basis” for its actions, rather than the more demanding showing required under traditional Establishment Clause doctrine.
But this analysis invites, rather than disavows, application of the animus doctrine that the Supreme Court developed in cases like Lukumi—and that I argued in an earlier essay in Politico and an amicus brief (along with my co-organizers Micah Schwartzman and Nelson Tebbe, Joshua Matz, who did the primary drafting and many other constitutional law scholars who signed the brief) should be central to this case.
According to settled animus doctrine, laws that are based primarily in irrational prejudice lack a rational basis. Indeed, it was in Romer v. Evans (1996) that the Court most thoroughly described the rule against animus—and did so while insisting that the proper standard of review was rational basis. So to invite rational basis review is to ask whether the law is based in animus. In other words, if Mandel is understood as a mere rational basis case, this would compel review under Lukumi, not exclude it. (That conclusion is consistent with the view that Mandel’s requirement of a “bona fide” reason for governmental action precludes the government from acting in “bad faith.”)
To be sure, in Mandel itself the Supreme Court found that discrimination based on ideology might have a rational basis in the midst of the Cold War. But a law based on prejudice against Muslims has no such conceivable rationale.
A more radical view would hold that not even rational basis review applies to immigration rules in cases concerning persons outside the country. On this view, those beyond our national boundaries are not even covered by the Establishment, Free Exercise or Equal Protection Clauses. But no case has ever said that the Establishment Clause does not apply to immigration policy. Indeed, the logic of the Clause demands that it be held to apply—if not directly to the persons abroad, then to the exercise of governmental power here in America. As Ira Lupu and others have argued, the Clause is fundamentally about what constitutes illegitimate uses of government power, not about particular rights holders.
That structural argument about the Establishment Clause also extends to rationality review under the Free Exercise and the Fifth Amendment equal protection principle. Legitimate government action of any kind, regardless of whether it is directed to those inside or outside the nation’s boarders, requires a rational basis. Animus toward any particular religion or ethnicity as a motivation for government action means there is no rational basis for that action, since its very object is forbidden.
Accordingly, as the Fourth Circuit recognized today, even if Mandel supplies the rule of decision and requires rationality review, animus is fatal even under that standard.
tectonic plates of redistricting law are starting to slide—and quickly. Earlier
this year, a three-judge district court struck
down Wisconsin’s state legislative map as an unconstitutional partisan
gerrymander, the first such holding by any federal court in more than a
generation. Federal courts in Maryland and North
have also issued supportive rulings in current partisan gerrymandering cases,
allowing the plaintiffs' claims to proceed to trial.
yesterday’s Supreme Court decision in Cooper
the North Carolina racial gerrymandering case, augurs a major recontouring of
the redistricting landscape as the Equal Protection plate comes
crashing into the Voting Rights Act (VRA) plate. Section 2 of the VRA has long
been understood to require the drawing of electoral districts in which racial
minorities can elect their “candidates of choice” in locales where white and
minority voters have very different political preferences. Yet since the 1990s,
the equal protection clause has required strict scrutiny of any district in
whose design race was the “predominant factor.” The Constitution disfavors the
intentional sorting of voters among districts on the basis of their race. Until
recently, however, it was widely thought that the “predominant factor” test for
racial sorting / equal protection claims would be met only as to districts in
which both (1) minority citizens comprise a majority of the voting-age
population, and (2) the district’s boundaries are wildly incongruent with
“traditional districting principles,” such as compactness and respect for local
in Bethune Hill v.
decided two months ago, the Supreme Court clarified that the “predominant
factor” test is satisfied whenever race was the overriding reason for moving a
group of voters into or out of a district, irrespective of the district’s
apparent conformity to traditional criteria. Then, in the unanimous portion of Cooper
v. Harris, the Court applied strict scrutiny to a district because the
state had “purposefully established a racial target” for its
composition, and selectively moved heavily black precincts into the district to
achieve that target. In the Republican redistricting plan at issue in Cooper, the
target was 50% black. In a Democratic gerrymander of North Carolina, the target
would probably be smaller, perhaps 40% black, to more efficiently distribute
reliable black Democratic voters while continuing to enable the election of
some black candidates. But the actual threshold (50% vs. 40%) seems legally
then is a state to comply with Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act, which, as
noted above, has long required states to create districts with
enough minority voters (a "racial target") to consistently elect
minority “candidates of choice.” One unhappy possibility is that the Court will
simply undertake to free redistricters from the latter obligation, holding
Section 2 unconstitutional or narrowing it beyond recognition on the basis of
an asserted conflict with the anti-sorting equal protection principle.
possibility is that federal courts will require redistricters to follow a path established by
Alaska's Supreme Court as a matter of state constitutional law. In Alaska,
the state must first redistrict blind to race, then evaluate the resulting map
for compliance with Section 2, and then make whatever minimal (?) changes are
necessary prevent a Section 2 violation. Cooper v. Harris hints at this
approach. Striking down District 1, the Court explained: "North Carolina
can point to no meaningful legislative inquiry into what it now rightly
identifies as the key issue: whether a new, enlarged District 1 [enlarged to
comply with one person, one vote], created without a focus on race but
however else the State would choose, could lead to § 2 liability.”
suggest that the forthcoming Trump budget will extract large savings from
anti-poverty programs by imposing tougher “work requirements” on
recipients.To many, this is among the
most acceptable kinds of cuts in programs for low-income people.Numerous academics and politicians who regard
themselves as sympathetic to the economically disadvantaged have nonetheless
supported or even proposed broadening work rules.Work requirements poll well, with many
less-educated workers particularly enthusiastic, responding to images of idle
people living comfortably off if their hard-earned tax dollars.
Yet a basic
confusion exists at the heart of these debates:what is a “work requirement”?The
range of program rules bearing that moniker is vast, with fundamental
differences in structure and purpose as well as administration.Increasingly, the term is being used for
policies that have nothing directly to do with combatting idleness but rather
serve as an attractive cover for arbitrary time limits, bureaucratic churn, and
other policies that the public regards far less well.
Imagine for the moment that Donald J. Trump exits the White House. There are, of course, four possibilities: Death, resignation, impeachment, or the invocation of the 25th Amendment. Should the first occur, then perhaps I should change the subject line to President Pence's first decision. Otherwise, the subject line holds.
So what are these decisions? The first involves his use of the Pardon Power, though it is altogether likely that our sociopathic president will be more than happy, just before he exits, to issue a general pardon beginning with Michael Flynn, and ending, perhaps, with Trump himself. Should that occur, then Pence would presumably have little occasion to consider the fate of Gerald Ford and the costs of a potential pardon of Donald J. Trump or, say, Jared Kushner, for their various flouting of American law. Otherwise, that will surely be something he will have to consider. Even if Trump himself is no longer alive to receive a pardon, one has the strong suspicion that other Trumpettes, some of them facing financial ruin because of having to hire private counsel to fend off Mr. Mueller, will be in dire need of get-out-of-jail cards of the type provided by George H.W. Bush as part of the Christmas orgy of pardons before he left the presidency in 1993. Whatever one thinks of Bill Clinton's pardon of Marc Rich (sleazy at best), it doesn't compare to Bush's use of his pardon power basically to shut down the special prosecutor looking into the various actions involving Iran and Nicaragua, some of which implicated then-Vice President Bush himself.
Let me first offer a few words of thanks: to my interlocutors for spending some time with, and sharing their thoughts about, the book and to my colleague Andy Koppelman for putting together this mini-symposium. Instead of replying to particular claims, I will try to tease out and respond to some of the broader themes in the collected reviews. My book chronicles a departure in the United States from the sharp-edged rules of the common law, in which ordinary courts applied ordinary law to government actors. While they once followed English common law, federal courts today apply a familiar collection of discretionary doctrines that often result in the denial of remedies to the victims of government wrongdoing. The failure of remedies, in turn, leads to a shortage of law; courts fail to give voice to the legal norms that regulate the officialdom. The book focuses on the remedial failure that has greeted the victims of the Bush Administration’s RDI program of extraordinary rendition, detention, and enhanced interrogation (torture). But the remedial failure extends more generally (as Will Baude, Alex Reinert, and Steve Vladeck observed). Indeed, the Supreme Court has heard argument in two cases this Term, Abassi and Hernandez, that may tell us much about the future efficacy of the Bivens action. Read more » Posted
by Guest Blogger [link]
Sunday, May 21, 2017
Federal Official Liability for Intentional Wrongdoing: Recovering the Past
In his new book “Constitutional Torts and the War on Terror,”
Prof. James Pfander shines a bright spotlight on the “utter failure” of the federal
courts to hold the United States Government accountable for unlawful harm
deliberately visited on the individuals who have become collateral damage in
the “War on Terror.” (61) With the litigation evidence painstakingly (and
empirically) laid out by Pfander, constitutional tort actions brought by the
victims of unconstitutional detention, harsh interrogation, and other outrages in
the War on Terror have invariably gone down to defeat in the federal appellate
courts. (167-180) Claims may be dismissed “on the ground that federal law does
not create a right to sue the responsible officers for the particular form of
mistreatment alleged,” or because the government has interposed a “state
secrets” defense to foreclose further litigation, or because “the doctrine of
qualified immunity blocks an action against the officers in question.” (xv)
Offering a historically-grounded solution, Pfander harkens
back to the pre-Bivens nineteenth
century practice by which federal courts entertained simple common-law trespass
claims against federal officers for unlawful conduct that harmed individuals,
uncomplicated by sovereign immunity or by qualified immunity for officers. These
courts evaluated “the simple legality” of the governmental conduct, imposed compensatory
damages on the individual officer who transgressed statutory or constitutional
limits, and left the officer to seek indemnity from Congress. (7) Pfander urges
our twenty-first century federal courts to craft a revived constitutional tort cause
of action, one that directly adjudicates the constitutional legality of the
government conduct and is not encumbered by the inappropriate political
considerations and policy-justified hesitations that cloud current Bivens doctrine. (99-100) In Pfander’s
view, this upgraded and enhanced Bivens
constitutional tort claim would be a modern version of the nineteenth century
common-law trespass action for official wrongdoing.
Federal courts today are not eager to enforce constitutional
rights against individual government officials who are alleged to violate them.
Indeed, federal courts frequently dismiss such claims on various technicalities
without ever confronting the substance of the rights invoked. That is notably
true in 21st-Century litigation over the war on terror, where federal courts
have expressed skepticism (or more) about implied causes of action,
extraterritorial constitutional rights, and the damages remedy.
But was it always thus, and must it be thus, should it be
thus, today? Constitutional Torts and the
War on Terror, by James Pfander, sets out to answer these questions. (To
all three: “No.”) Pfander frames the book by showing us that legal rights were
originally enforced against government officials in a quite different way.
Government action was assumed to be regulated by generally applicable law.
Ordinary citizens could challenge the legality of that government action
through ordinary suits at common law. And judges saw their primary duty as
simply applying the law to the cases before them, leaving for lawmakers the
task of indemnifying officials or changing the law where its consequences were
This 19th-Century model of government legality may seem
quaint, but it teaches important lessons today. Pfander argues that our
constitutional tort regime fails to live up the structure or benefits of the
old regime, and fails to justify its replacement. The common law has worked
itself foul. Pfander may be right or wrong about the consequences, but I think
his more important critique sounds in legal process: The federal courts might
have you believe that today’s limits on constitutional torts are the result of
an admirable judicial restraint – a hesitation to step into domains where
judges have no commission. But the restraints are of the judiciary’s own
devising, and thus in deep tension with the original judicial duty – to apply
the law rather than make it.
I may be taking this point further than Pfander would, but I
emphasize it because it amounts to my only real disagreement with the book –
that it does not take the original model of government legality nearly far
enough. Consider two points.
The day Donald Trump announced his (first) travel ban, hundreds of lawyers set up crisis centers in airports around the country and began drafting legal challenges to the executive order. The next day, Judge Anne Donnelly of the District Court for the Eastern District of New York issued a temporary restraining order. Soon thereafter, judges in Seattle, Boston, Detroit, and Alexandria issued a variety of orders staying part or all of the ban. Trump appealed the Seattle court’s decision to the Ninth Circuit, arguing, among other things, that the President’s national security decisions were unreviewable. The Ninth Circuit denied the request for a stay, and in its decision strongly disagreed with the president’s depiction of the role of courts and the executive in national security matters. “There is no precedent to support this claim of unreviewability, which runs contrary to the fundamental structure of our constitutional democracy,” the per curiam opinion explained. “Indeed, federal courts routinely review the constitutionality of—and even invalidate—actions taken by the executive to promote national security, and have done so even in times of conflict.” After making a few angry tweets about the Ninth Circuit, and threats to take the case to the Supreme Court, Trump and his staff went to work on a new order.
During this flurry of legal challenges, a cartoon began circulating widely online. Blind Justice was staving off a pugilistic Donald Trump from the Statue of Liberty saying, calmly, “I’ve got this.”1 Trump had sought to use national security rhetoric to avoid judicial review of his immigration policies, and courts had refused to stand down.
Jim Pfander’s invaluable new monograph,
Constitutional Torts and the War on Terror, arrives
at an especially fortuitous moment in the history of the Bivens doctrine—which recognizes
circumstances in which judges can recognize a damages remedy for victims of
constitutional violations by federal officers even though no statute authorizes
such relief. Sometime in the next six weeks, the Supreme Court could hand down
its most important rulings on the scope of the doctrine in the 46 years it’s
been on the books. And at least based on how the oral arguments went in Ziglar v. Abbasiand Hernández v. Mesa(in which
I’m co-counsel to the Petitioners),the
signs aren’t too optimistic for those who agree with the younger Justice
Harlan, who closed his concurrence in Bivens
with the observation that “it would be . . . anomalous to
conclude that the federal judiciary . . . is powerless to
accord a damages remedy to vindicate social policies which, by virtue of their
inclusion in the Constitution, are aimed predominantly at restraining the
Government as an instrument of the popular will.” As Pfander’s book explains,
careful study of the history of civil remedies arising out of federal
government misconduct suggests that it would indeed be anomalous to so conclude,
especially in the context of challenges to post-September 11 counterterrorism
policies. That the Supreme Court may nevertheless be on the cusp of doing so,
especially at this particular moment in our nation’s history, should be deeply
disturbing to even the most casual reader.
I appreciate the opportunity to join such a
distinguished group of scholars in commenting on Jim Pfander’s book
“Constitutional Torts and the War on Terror.”In his book, Jim does a fantastic job explaining how courts have strayed
further and further from adjudicating the merits of constitutional challenges
to executive actions taken in what is colloquially referred to as the “war on
terror” (what constitutes terrorism is contested and political and sometimes
tinged with Islamophobia).Jim’s
descriptive account of the problem is, for the most part, right on target --
many individuals caught up in the national security response to terrorist
threats over the past 15 years have suffered serious harms, and very few of
them have obtained a remedy or even a hearing.And his prescriptive solutions are provocative and move us in the right
direction. My concern is that they may
expect too much of both judges and litigants, for reasons I will explain.
I want to begin with one riddle that is in many ways
at the heart of the problem Jim painstakingly describes in his book: the
apparent conflict between the Supreme Court’s Guantanamo habeas cases (putting
limits on executive action) and its Bivens
national security cases (failing to find or enforce a remedy for executive
misconduct).This is a riddle to be
solved, and Jim suggests (at pp. 87-89) many plausible solutions, but I would
also be careful not to overstate the apparent tension.
No one could accuse Donald Trump’s presidency of being boring. The first hundred days have careened wildly through scandals, revelations, outrages, and fracturing of political norms. Every time Trump does something remarkable, like the recent firing of Director James Comey, pundits ask whether we are in a constitutional crisis.
However, as I noted in a previous post, constitutional crisis refers to something different: A constitutional crisis occurs when there is a serious danger that the Constitution is about to fail at its central task of keeping disagreement within the boundaries of ordinary politics instead of breaking down into lawlessness, anarchy, violence, or civil war.
As Sandy Levinson and I have explained, there are three types of constitutional crises. In Type One crises, political leaders announce that they will no longer abide by the Constitution or laws (for example, because of emergency), or they openly flout judicial orders directed at them. In Type Two crises, people follow what they believe the Constitution requires, leading to political paralysis or disaster. In Type Three crises, political disagreement about the Constitution becomes so intense that the struggle goes beyond the bounds of ordinary politics. People take to the streets; there are riots; the military is called out to restore order (or suppress dissent); political figures threaten violence or engage in political violence; or parts of the country revolt and/or attempt to secede,
Constitutional crisis is very rare, and nothing that has yet happened in the Trump Administration -- including the Comey firing-- comes even close. But people are right to think that something important-- and dangerous--is happening to our political institutions. That is why, I think, people so often reach for the term "constitutional crisis" to describe it.
In this essay, I want to introduce a new idea to explain our current predicament. I will distinguish constitutional crisis, which is very rare, from a different phenomenon, which I think better describes what is happening in the United States today. This is the idea of constitutional rot.
Although the Comey firing is not an example of constitutional crisis, it is an example of constitutional rot. For this reason, people are right to worry about it. Read more » Posted
by JB [link]
Call for Papers -- Constitutional History: Comparative Perspectives
Symposium on James Pfander, Constitutional Torts and the War on Terror
This week and next at Balkinization we are featuring a symposium on James Pfander's new
book, Constitutional Torts and the War on Terror (Oxford
University Press, 2017).
We'll have contributions from Alexander Reinert (Cardozo), Gregory Sisk (St.
Thomas), Joanna Schwartz (UCLA), William Baude (University of Chicago), and
Stephen Vladeck (Texas). At the
conclusion, Jim will respond to the essays. Posted
by Andrew Koppelman [link]
Friday, May 12, 2017
For one family, war has tragic costs. For others, not so much.
Mary L. Dudziak
The lead story in the print version of today’s New York Times is a story that barely breaks through in our fast-paced digital
communications: a family mourns a fallen soldier. Staff Sgt. Mark De Alencar
"fought and died in a war that most Americans say is not worth fighting,
according to some polls. It is a war that seemed to be over in 2014, when
President Barack Obama announced the end of the original United States combat
mission,” wrote reporter David Zucchino. "Honestly, I thought the war was
over before Mark got sent there" the soldier’s sister-in-law said.
War is present and personal for deployed American soldiers
and their families. It is far off the radar screen of most Americans, exacerbated,
it seems, by our digital algorithms. The “top stories” in my digital version of
the New York Times this morning did not mention Sargent De Alencar at all.
"The war didn't seem to affect anyone outside the
military," remarked De Alencar’s widow, Natasha De Alencar. His son
Deshaun De Alencar emphasized: "His life was not taken: It was given to
his country," in an echo of Paul Kahn’s powerful work on the soldier’s
A soldier’s giving of his life for others – for our
disconnected and distracted polity – generates a powerful duty that has been
ignored. At the very least, a soldier's death in a war fought in our name
requires that we pay attention to it. Engagement is our responsibility.
But simple attention is not weighty enough to honor this
family’s sacrifice. There are renewed calls for Congress to reengage with
American armed conflict. De Alencar died in Afghanistan “while fighting Islamic
State militants.” Congress has declined to authorize armed conflict against
ISIS or in Syria, so that presidents rely instead on creative interpretations
of preexisting authorizations for the use of force. This puts the task of
defining war’s limits within the Office of Legal Counsel, which defines them in
secret memos. This is hardly a source of democratic limits on presidential war
Though the blame for the absence of restraint falls, in
part, on Congress, blame is shared by the American people. I have seen no
demands in the recent town hall meetings in congressional districts for
congressional engagement with the nation’s use of force. Americans care about
what they feel personally. As Natasha De Alencar said, most Americans seem
unaffected by the conflict that cost her children their father. The most
important democracy deficit in contemporary armed conflict is that a citizenry
isolated from war's cost enables ongoing war without restraint.