Andrew Hyman on Equal Protection [Video]
Michael Ramsey
Here is co-blogger Andrew Hyman speaking on equal protection at the Southern University Law Center (along with Professor Jason Thrower):
[link]
Here is co-blogger Andrew Hyman speaking on equal protection at the Southern University Law Center (along with Professor Jason Thrower):
[link]
In anticipation of Thursday's oral argument, Jack Goldsmith (Harvard) has a long post at Lawfare: The Core Issues in Trump v. United States: One Road Map. From the introduction:
This essay provides a road map of the core legal issues in Trump v. United States as I see them. It is just a road map; I do not opine on how the Court should resolve most of the issues in the case. I am pretty sure that the Court will reject former President Trump’s immunity claim. But how the Court crafts its immunity analysis, and what collateral issues it addresses along the way, are enormously important to the impact of the Court’s decision on future presidencies. This impact will, I think, be a central issue at oral argument and a central consideration in the drafting of the opinion. I address the impact issue at the end of this lengthy piece, after first laying out how I think the various legal doctrines in the case fit together.
And from later on:
To understand what is at stake in the case, one needs to unpack three issues and understand their relationship to one another.
First, do the four criminal statutes Trump allegedly violated apply to the president? The § 1512 crimes apply to “whoever” does the bad acts; and §§ 241 and 371 apply to “persons” who commit the offenses. The applicability issue is whether these generally worded statutes, properly construed, govern official presidential action. A second-order applicability question is which official presidential actions do they apply to—all of them?; some subset, and if so, which one?; acts in which presidential power is not unduly burdened? (Another applicability issue, not examined here, is the question raised in Fischer v. United States on whether and how § 1512 applies to Jan. 6 events.)
Second, if the statutes govern some presidential conduct, are they constitutional, and if so, to what extent? This constitutionality issue is whether Congress has the authority to regulate the presidential actions in question, which reduces in this context to whether certain presidential actions implicate exclusive presidential power that Congress cannot regulate.
Third, if the statutes apply to the president and are constitutional, does Trump have immunity from prosecution for their violation? This immunity issue is the one formally before the Court. A second-order immunity question concerns which presidential actions should receive immunity. For example, assuming some immunity attaches, does it attach to all official acts, or a subset? And how would one determine which acts are official and which are private?
(Via Ed Whelan at Bench Memos.)
Lawrence B. Solum (University of Virginia School of Law) has posted Original Public Meaning (Michigan State Law Review, Vol. 2023, No. 807, 2023) (42 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
“Original public meaning” has become increasingly important in constitutional discourse. This Article investigates the nature of original public meaning in three steps. First, each word in the phrase “original public meaning” is explicated and clarified. The word “original” represents the idea that the meaning of the constitutional text is fixed at the time each provision is framed and ratified. The word “public” signifies that the relevant meaning is ordinary meaning, the understanding of the text conveyed to the public at the time each provision was framed and ratified. The word “meaning” refers to the set of ideas (concepts and propositions) that constitute the communicative content of the constitutional text. The second step situates original public meaning in the context of normative constitutional theory, explaining its role in both Public Meaning Originalism and nonoriginalist constitutional theories. The third and final step investigates the foundations of original public meaning in the philosophy of language and theoretical linguistics, via an exploration of the distinctions between (a) speaker’s meaning and sentence meaning, (b) semantics and pragmatics, (c) sense and reference, and (d) conceptual meaning versus prototypical meaning.
Each of the three steps contributes to the articulation of a conception of original public meaning that aims at conceptual clarity, precision, and theoretical depth. The original public meaning of the constitutional text is the communicative content (the set of concepts and propositions) that was conveyed to the public at the time each provision was drafted, proposed, and ratified. Both semantics (the meaning of words and phrases) and pragmatics (meaning conveyed by context) play essential roles in the complex multistage process by which constitutional communication occurs. For public meaning originalists, the original public meaning of the text ought to bind constitutional actors, including judges, legislators, and executive officials. Sometimes, the recovery of original public meaning is relatively easy—the absence of linguistic drift, common sense, and the immediate context make the meaning of the constitutional text readily accessible to contemporary readers. But sometimes, the original public meaning of the constitutional text is difficult to discern, requiring both a deep reading of the constitutional record and careful application of the methods of historical linguistics.
Highly recommended! Download it while it's hot!
Recently published, in the New York University Journal of Law and Liberty, Richard A. Epstein (NYU School of Law), The Natural Law Origins of Private and Public Law (17 N.Y.U. J. L. & Lib 205 (2024)). Here is the abstract:
This article attempts to counter the widespread skepticism that surrounds any appeal to natural law principles, starting with Roman law at one end and the appeal to general law under Swift v. Tyson on the other. It steers a systematic middle course between moral absolutism, which treats all relationships as fixed and immutable, and modern realist positions that insist the infinite variety of legal approaches to most legal problems proves that there is no solid core to either natural law or general law. The natural law positions set out the basic relationships for marriage and family, for alluvion and avulsion of rivers and streams, for the formation of agreements, and for the transfer of various forms of property under the private law. But at that point, these rules may be modified as needed to create strong Pareto improvements by the introduction of various formalities that improve the security of transactions or, more substantively, which overcome key holdout issues that can arise, for example in the upper airspace on the one side or with caves on the other.
These principles can carry over to public law as well. Systems of taxation have to be structured (with flat taxes) as the best way to avoid theft from one group to another, and also for eminent domain powers when the public must be compensated, unless under the police power they are designed to prevent wrongful conduct from the party regulated, as under the common law of nuisance, which is not subject to infinite variation. Similarly on procedural matters, the two Roman principles of “hear the other side” (audi alterem partem) in cases before a neutral judge and “no one shall be a judge in his own cause” (nemo judex in causa sua) have to apply universally whereas other fact finding devices, for example juries, are subject to wider variations. These principles were tested in the Insular Cases where this norm held in check any American impulse to dictate legal practices and norms to conquered groups. This rule that explains why the Supreme Court was correct in refusing to hear the case intended to compel American Samoa to force federal citizenship on indigenous peoples who refused to have it. These basic natural law principles, most notably the rule that no one should profit from his own wrong explains, contrary to today’s understandings, why the common principle of birthright citizenship applies only to the offspring of legal aliens, but not illegal ones.
In dealing with the transition between Swift and Erie Railroad v. Tompkins, the key insight is that Swift was correct insofar as it used a set of general (i.e., neutral) principles to decide disputes that took place across state lines, but not for those that took place solely within a given state. Thus, using general principles for negotiable instruments and boundary disputes eliminates local favoritism and gravitates to the best of common practices. But there is no reason to use these common principles for complex private disputes (rules for mortgages or local antitrust laws) where the general law (as expanded before Erie) often slights local interests, such that the key decision in Clearfield Trust v. United States reestablishing general common law for negotiable interests and Hinderlider v. La Plata River & Cherry Creek Ditch Co. with respect to boundary disputes, pushed the law back in its correct direction.
It is only by patiently working through all of these ancient and modern, private and public law cases, the conceptual unity of our basic legal system can be defended.
Among other things, the article is notable in defending the Insular Cases and a limited view of birthright citizenship. (I've taken an opposing view on both points on originalist grounds).
Thanks to Neil Weare for the pointer.
SOMEWHAT RELATED: From NBC News, Lawmakers seek disavowal of Supreme Court's racist 'Insular Cases' that limited rights of people in U.S. territories - A series of early-1900s Supreme Court rulings included discriminatory language and helped ensure that people in U.S. territories wouldn't have the same rights as other Americans (quoting Neil Weare, among others). (Via How Appealing.)
Chahat Gupta (O.P. Jindal Global University - Jindal Global Law School) has posted Indian Perspective: Textualism vs Originalism (6 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
Subba Rao upheld the meaning of true democracy by championing fundamental rights in various judgement of 1960s-1980s. His dissenting opinion in Calcutta Gas company vs State of West Bengal drew extremities of federalism with textual interpretation of law. Justice Nariman in his recent book called Subba Rao “The man imbued with fundamental rights”. His pre-eminent approach towards federalism and fundamental rights interpretation was based only on textualism. Textualism is literal interpretation of law which only replies on meaning of the text and not the purpose of the text. But going behind what text does not suggest Prima Facie can be very risky as it may lead to multiple interpretation of texts.
The doctrine of interpretation of statutes by Courts has been a major focus of legal debate. Whether judges are to look solely to the bare language of an enactment and further logically deduce its application in simple syllogistic fashion as legal formalists often advocated, or whether it was more efficient to inquire into the meaning of the statute and the intention of the constitution makers to deduce its meaning have been questions at the forefront of constitutional interpretation debates. A country with a federal structure necessitates that statutory interpretation is done in a manner which is cohesive with the meaning of federalism whilst also delivering the best possible solution. Although schools of statutory interpretation vary on what factors should be considered while interpreting statues, all approaches put a great deal of emphasis on the language and structure of the statute itself. According to U.S. Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia, judges resist the urge to apply legislative intention and legislative history in interpreting statutes . His stance on the matter is that it is incompatible with democratic federal government to allow the meaning of a statute to be determined by what the judges ‘think’ the Constitution makers meant rather than by what the legislature promulgated. Scalia promotes the interpretive legal nuance of interpreting statutes and regulations by focusing on the text itself. He proposes that attention must be paid to the Constitution’s original meaning. His idea of textualism identifies the law with its original linguistic meaning at the time it was enacted. However, common law often assumes that rules embody principles which can be qualified by other principles, which can be expanded upon, and which evolve over time. Scalia’s rejection on such interpretation lies in the fact that this inevitably gives judges more power than the clear rule itself. Justice Stevens on the other hand explicitly favors a case- by- case interpretation of statutes, rather than precise, principles content.
Felipe Jiménez (USC Gould School of Law) has posted Minimalist Textualism (Seton Hall Law Review, forthcoming) (72 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
Textualism is now the dominant theory of statutory interpretation in the Supreme Court. This paper explores a series of conditions that all theories of statutory interpretation, including textualism, ought to satisfy. The conditions are Nonequivalence; Limited Domain; Legality; Specificity; Normativity; and Restricted Relevance. These conditions deny claims sometimes made by textualists—such as “the text is the law” or “the ordinary meaning of the statute governs.” They also qualify some of the normative arguments textualists use to justify their views. Textualist theories should satisfy these conditions because they are warranted requirements for statutory interpretation. Compliance with these conditions leaves space for a textualist approach that preserves commitment to statutory text and the rejection of appeals to purpose and legislative intent, while avoiding some common pitfalls in textualist theory, rhetoric, and practice. This minimalist textualism is thus a better version of textualism.
Timothy Sandefur (Goldwater Institute) has posted Originalism and the Illusions of Objectivity (Charleston Law Review vol. 19 (forthcoming, 2024)) (48 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
This article examines Originalism's entitlement to the status of an objective theory of law. It considers first what objectivity means in a legal context, then examines the two main claims of Originalism (semantic and normative). After seeing why neither of these satisfies the test of objectivity, it considers recent efforts by Originalist scholars to satisfy the objectivity test—efforts that reveal that their successes come about only at the cost of jettisoning Originalism's basic reliance on origin—a move called "stone soup"—which results in a theory that has no plausible claim to the title "Originalism."
J. Joel Alicea (Catholic University of America — Columbus School of Law) has posted The Natural Law Moment in Constitutional Theory (Harvard Journal of Law and Public Policy, Vol. 48, 2024 (forthcoming)) (16 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
Something new is happening in American constitutional theory. Never before have so many legal scholars sought to ground constitutional theory in the natural-law tradition. Indeed, we can truly say that we are living through a natural-law moment in constitutional theory, a period of unprecedented interest in natural law among constitutional theorists. This immediately calls to mind three questions. First: how, if at all, are the theorists of this moment different from prior theorists who sought to ground constitutional theory in natural law? Second: what explains the rise of natural law in American constitutional theory? Third: what are the implications for constitutional theory of our natural-law moment? This essay sketches answers to these questions, with the caveat that much more could be said about them. This essay was originally delivered as the Herbert W. Vaughan Memorial Lecture at Harvard Law School on April 9, 2024.
Video of the lecture is available here.
Rudisill v. McDonough, decided by the U.S. Supreme Court yesterday, involved a statutory claim by a military veteran. The Court majority held for the veteran, concluding that the statute's text was clearly in his favor (even though Justice Thomas in dissent thought it was clearly to the contrary), so the Court did not need to invoke the "veterans canon." That canon (allegedly) directs a court to rule for the veteran if the statute is ambiguous.
Concurring, Justice Kavanaugh, joined by Justice Barrett, had some skeptical thoughts on the veterans canon:
I write separately ... to note some practical and constitutional questions about the justifications for a benefits-related canon (such as the veterans canon) that favors one particular group over others. Under the veterans canon, statutes that provide benefits to veterans are to be construed “in the veteran’s favor.” The veterans canon is a substantive canon of statutory interpretation. A substantive canon is a judicial presumption in favor of or against a particular substantive outcome. ...
Applying a substantive canon, a court may depart from what the court, absent the canon, would have concluded is the best reading of the statutory text. ...the substantive canon would not be necessary or relevant. ...
Substantive canons are typically based on background constitutional principles or long-settled judicial understandings of congressional practice. Because a substantive canon by definition has important decision-altering effects, any substantive canon must be sufficiently rooted in constitutional principles or congressional practices.
Here, no one suggests that the veterans canon rests on background constitutional principles. Rather, the canon seems to stem from a loose judicial assumption about congressional intent—in particular, an assumption that Congress intends for courts to read ambiguous veterans benefits statutes more broadly than the courts otherwise would read such statutes.
But what is that assumption based on? The Court has never explained. ...
And from later on:
[T]he notion that benefits statutes should be interpreted to favor a particular group creates significant tension with the actual operation of the process by which Congress and the President enact spending laws. To be sure, if someone asked a Member of Congress or the President (or this judge, for that matter) in the abstract, “Should veterans get more benefits?” the answer would be yes. But that question is not (and cannot be) answered in the abstract. The spending process is a zero-sum game, where money spent on one group means less money for other groups and other national priorities.
...
The spending process in Congress requires hard choices with painful tradeoffs. Judges have no principled way to make those choices or weigh those tradeoffs. Nor do judges have a principled way, other than reading the statutory text as written, to conclude that Congress and the President would prefer to favor one group over another—or stated another way in this zero-sum process, to disfavor one group over another.
In addition to that practical problem, judges have no constitutional authority to favor or disfavor one group over another in the spending process. Rather, under the Constitution’s separation of powers, Congress and the President make those policy judgments. See U. S. Const., Art. I, §7, cl. 2; §8, cl. 1; §9, cl. 7. Courts must then neutrally interpret and apply the spending laws enacted by Congress and the President. Courts do so by heeding the statutory
text and employing the traditional tools of statutory interpretation—not by singling out particular groups for favored or disfavored treatment.
Agreed. And this is consistent with my view, expressed here, that substantive canons are more defensible if they are limiting canons (that is, they underenforce laws) than if they purport to allow judges to go beyond the most plausible reading of the statute.
(Thanks to Chad Squitieri for pointing me to Justice Kavanaugh's opinion. Josh Blackman has related thoughts here.)
The Supreme Court also recently decided (on Monday, on the emergency docket) Labrador v. Poe, which among other matters concerned the scope of the injunctive relief given in the lower court. At Volokh Conspiracy, Samuel Bray comments here: Is the Bell Tolling for Universal Injunctions? He describes the multiple opinions, including the opinion of Justice Gorsuch, joined by Thoams and Alito, expressing deep skepticism about "universal" injunctions. From the opinion:
Early in the litigation below, the district court issued a preliminary injunction. Ordinarily, injunctions like these may go no further than necessary to provide interim relief to the parties. In this case, however, the district court went much further, prohibiting a State from enforcing any aspect of its duly enacted law against anyone. Today, the Court stays the district court’s injunction to the extent it applies to nonparties, which is to say to the extent it provides “universal” relief. That is a welcome development.
...
The district court’s universal injunction defied these foundational principles [of injunctive relief]. It did not just vindicate the plaintiffs’ access to the drug treatments they sought. It purported to bar the enforcement of “any provision” of the law against anyone. The district court issued this sweeping relief even though, by its own admission, the plaintiffs had failed to “engage” with other provisions of Idaho’s law that don’t presently affect them—including the law’s provisions prohibiting the surgical removal of children’s genitals. In choosing such an extraordinary remedy, the district court clearly strayed from equity’s traditional bounds.
This also seems correct to me. "Universal" injunctions (at least as in the Labrador case) and substantive canons (at least, substantive canons like the veterans canon) both involve courts going beyond the appropriate judicial role and becoming lawmakers. They are, one might say, exercising will instead of judgment.
David S. Schwartz (University of Wisconsin Law School) has posted Is the Constitution of 1787 a White Supremacist Document? Against Essentialism in Constitutional Interpretation (William & Mary Bill of Rights Journal, Vol. 33, 2024) (33 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
A curious convergence is emerging in legal academia around the conclusion that the 1787 Constitution is a white supremacist document. Although most originalists would deny that contention, their methodology strongly favors, if it does not compel, an agreement with progressive, "neo-Garrisonian" scholars that the Constitution of 1787 is indeed a white supremacist document. Both the neo-Garrisonian and originalist elements of this implicit convergence stem from their "essentialism" in Constitutional interpretation: the idea that the Constitution or its terms or provisions carry a uniquely and objectively correct meaning, invariant over time, and independent of our evolving normative commitments. This essay argues that essentialism is a mistaken approach to constitutional interpretation. Contrasting Chief Justice Roger Taney's lead opinion in Dred Scott, holding that Black people cannot be "citizens" of the United States, with Frederick Douglass's Glasgow Speech, arguing that the Constitution is not a pro-slavery document, this essay argues that these two texts embody not simply a clash of conclusions, but also a clash of approaches to understanding what the Constitution is. Taney's opinion is archetypally originalist and essentialist; Douglass's speech, widely misunderstood as an essentialist, textualist argument, is in fact a powerful anti-essentialist argument that the Constitution of 1787 was an invitation to struggle over the questions of slavery and white supremacy. The essay further disputes the widely accepted neo-Garrisonian claim that originalism and living constitutionalism both fail the Dred Scott "test." While living constitutionalism, with its embrace of evolving moral values, would today reject Dred Scott, Taney's originalist opinion adheres to the tenets of the intentionalist and public meaning strands of originalism and meets present-day professional standards of originalist scholarship. Thus, while living constitutionalism can, originalism cannot disown Dred Scott.
Via Larry Solum at Legal Theory Blog, who comments:
David Schwartz is an important and careful scholar, and I recommend almost everything he writes with great enthusiasm. Although there is much in this document with which I agree, I have many questions about Schwartz's presentation of contemporary academic originalist theory (particularly public meaning originalism) in the context of particular arguments about Dred Scott and the Reconstruction Amendments. In particular, I think questions about the OPM of "citizen" in Article III involve many issues that Schwartz does not discuss. So, recommended, with qualifications.
I would put the point more sharply. Taney's opinion in Dred Scott is fake originalism. This was widely recognized at the time, including by Justice Curtis in dissent, Abraham Lincoln, and the Republicans in the Reconstruction Congress. As far as I'm aware, no modern originalist scholar thinks otherwise.
The original Constitution was indeed "an invitation to struggle over the questions of slavery and white supremacy" -- because (contra Taney) it left most key issues to the political branches (albeit stacking the deck somewhat through the three-fifths clause, the fugitive slave clause and the postponement of the power to regulate the slave trade.)
Anita S. Krishnakumar (Georgetown University Law Center) has posted What the Major Questions Doctrine is Not (George Washington Law Review, Vol. 92, 2024) (60 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
The major questions doctrine has undergone a sea change in prominence within the span of two years. In the ten months between August 2021 and June 2022, the Court invoked the canon three times, using it aggressively to invalidate some of the signature policies implemented by the Biden Administration—including the CDC’s eviction moratorium, OSHA’s attempt to impose a vaccine-or-test mandate on employees, and EPA’s efforts to regulate greenhouse gas emissions. And this past term, it added a fourth case to this burgeoning list, striking down the Biden Administration’s student debt relief program. All eyes are now on the major questions doctrine. Several scholars have criticized the latest iteration of the doctrine, and some—including former law professor, now-Justice Amy Coney Barrett—have sought to defend it as consistent with textualism, as a linguistic canon, as part of the ordinary “common sense” context a reasonable reader would consider, or as a canon designed to protect the Constitution’s nondelegation principle.
This essay seeks to cut through the confusing labels and justifications that have been offered for this relatively new, somewhat reinvented, and incredibly powerful doctrine. It argues first that the major questions doctrine is not many of the things that commentators, including the Justices, have suggested it is: It is not a proxy for the nondelegation doctrine; it is not part of the “common sense” context that the “reasonable reader” brings to identifying a statute’s ordinary meaning; it is not a linguistic canon; and it is not even purposivism or intentionalism—or at least not good purposivism or intentionalism. The essay concludes by arguing that in the end, the major questions doctrine may best be thought of as either a new multi-factor test or standard of judicial review for “major” agency decisions or as a form of naked pragmatism that uses clear statement rule rhetoric in an effort to sound more textualist than it is.
Via Larry Solum at Legal Theory Blog, who has significant comments.
I think the major questions doctrine is a substantive canon, so I can avoid all these issues. (But then I have to contend with others, like whether substantive canons are illegitimate.)
Jed H. Shugerman (Boston University School of Law) has posted Venality and Functionality: A Strangely Practical History of Selling Offices, Administrative Independence, and Limited Presidential Power (Notre Dame Law Review, Vol. 100, 2024) (53 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
The Roberts Court has asserted that Article II’s “executive power” implied an “indefeasible” or unconditional presidential removal power. In response to counterevidence from the Founding Era, unitary executive theorists have claimed a “British Backdrop” of a general removal power under the English Crown and European “executive power.” These assumptions are incorrect.
This Article shows that many powerful executive officers through the late eighteenth century, especially high English Treasury offices and even “department heads” in the cabinet, were unremovable. A long common law tradition protected many English offices as freehold property rights. Moreover, this Article explains why it was widely understood that monarchs lacked a general removal power and why so many public offices were treated as private property: a surprisingly functional “venality” system. Many powerful officeholders in European monarchies bought their offices, and in return for their investment, their office was protected as property – especially in England. European administration depended upon a flexible mix of removable patronage offices and unremovable offices for sale. Montesquieu rejected “displacement” at will (i.e., removal at pleasure) as a tool of “despotic government,” and he endorsed “vénalité.” He and many English legal writers defended such limits on removal as a practical system of family investment, incentives, checks, and balances. The sale of offices-as-property may seem strange and corrupt today, but it was a practical foundation for the nation-state, modern administration, and colonial expansion.
This history shows how removal was neither necessary nor sufficient for law execution. It offers a consistent explanation for the text of Article II, The Federalist Papers, and the First Congress’s debates and statutes. This history also supports more flexible and functionalist interpretations of the separation of powers, as the categories of “executive power” and “judicial power” were still inchoate and evolving in 1787.
As new litigants argue for overturning statutes and longstanding precedents, this history shows, in the very least, that unitary theorists have not met their evidentiary burden, and it should caution the Roberts Court to exercise more restraint and leave in place the long-standing settlement on executive power and independent commissions, preserving the balance of Myers with Humphrey’s Executor, Wiener, and Morrison v. Olson.
Please see a different paper, "Freehold Offices vs. Despotic Displacement" at https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4521119
for more detail on the Opinions Clause's original public meaning for decisional independence; on English common law default rules for charters and "good cause" removal without assigning it to any category of power; and for appendices on the Founders' Bookshelf, eighteenth-century dictionaries on executive power and removal, on the silence on removal during the Ratification Debates, and on unitary theorists' use of sources associating removal with "executive power"
Professor Shugerman presented an earlier version of this paper at the Originalism Works-in-Progress conference in San Diego in 2023, with Ilan Wurman (Arizona State) as commentator.
At Election Law Blog, Travis Crum: Originalism, Lived Experience, and the Twenty-Sixth Amendment. From the introduction:
Next week, the Supreme Court will consider whether to grant cert in Cascino v. Nelson. The question presented in Cascino is whether Texas’s law allowing any voter who is sixty-five or older to request an absentee ballot violates the Twenty-Sixth Amendment, which prohibits age discrimination in voting. The Cascino litigation has been ongoing since the 2020 election cycle—when the COVID-19 pandemic heightened the case’s immediate stakes—and the Fifth Circuit’s initial decision upholding this facially discriminatory law attracted substantial attention. As I argued back in 2020, the Fifth Circuit’s egregiously wrong decision should be reversed.
Here, I want to highlight a different point: Cascino presents a rare situation when the relevant constitutional provision was adopted during the lived experiences of some of the Justices. Indeed, some Justices were teenagers at the time and were enfranchised earlier than they otherwise would have been due to its ratification. The Twenty-Sixth Amendment allowed Justice Sotomayor to vote in the 1972 presidential election and Chief Justice Roberts to vote in the 1974 midterm election. And although they weren’t directly affected by it, Justices Thomas and Alito were in college during the Twenty-Sixth Amendment’s ratification debate. For once in our age of originalism, we have originalists present during the drafting and ratification of the relevant constitutional provision.
In the cert-stage briefing, the parties are implicitly advancing different forms of originalist argument. Texas is essentially making an original expected application argument based on the underlying rationale for the Twenty-Sixth Amendment’s adoption. During the Vietnam War, the federal government drafted men who were eighteen years old. However, in all but a handful of States, citizens needed to be twenty-one years old to vote. Congress responded to the criticism that those sent to fight in Southeast Asia should be old enough to vote by lowering the voting age to eighteen when it reauthorized the Voting Rights Act in 1970. But in Oregon v. Mitchell, a deeply fractured Court concluded that Congress could lower the voting age only in federal elections—not state elections. The Court’s decision, however, risked chaos, as States were not prepared to run elections with a bifurcated electorate. Accordingly, Congress promptly proposed and the States quickly ratified the Twenty-Sixth Amendment in 1971. Texas focuses on this history to claim that the Twenty-Sixth Amendment’s raison d’etre was to lower the voting age to eighteen. And because absentee ballots were rare in the 1970s, Texas’s argument goes, the right to vote is not implicated in this case.
By contrast, the plaintiffs pitch their argument based on original meaning. That is, the right to vote includes all steps in registering and casting a ballot. ...
Caitlin B. Tully (Samuel I. Golieb Fellow, NYU School of Law) has posted The Unenumerated Power (111 Virginia Law Review (forthcoming 2025)) (92 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
Scholars and courts have long viewed unenumerated powers and rights as constitutionally dubious. This skepticism has produced far-ranging effects: most recently, it has undergirded the Court’s invalidation of privacy rights. Many others have contested the presumption against unenumerated law, including a recent wave of scholarship which criticizes “enumerationism.” These efforts have been hampered, however, by the fact that they are unable to point to a concrete example of a tacit power or right that is entirely independent from an enumerated power or right.
This Article demonstrates – for the first time – that at least one such power exists: the power to charter corporations. Trillions of dollars circulate through the federal corporate form. Yet scholars often assume that the Constitution has nothing to say about corporations. The doctrine of federal incorporation, meanwhile, is confused: courts analogize federal corporations to state corporations or federal agencies, despite obvious inconsistencies, or avoid them altogether. As this Article demonstrates, however, the Framers understood the power to charter as an independent power with its own prerogatives and limits, and there was little doubt about the power’s constitutionality following ratification. In fact, as this Article shows, the Marshall Court constructed doctrine defining this pre-existing power across three cases: Dartmouth College v. Woodward, McCulloch v. Maryland, and Osborn v. Bank of the United States, establishing an independent threshold for the creation of federal corporations: “constitutional” purpose. Congress has effectively relied on this tacit, but independent, legal power for over two centuries.
This Article provides the first comprehensive account of the doctrine of federal incorporation and its current use, as well as an index of all federal corporations from the Founding to the present. In addition, this Article makes two important interventions. First, by clarifying the legal basis of federal incorporation, the existence of the charter power may offer alternative rationales for the constitutionality of federal legislation; alternatives to existing constructions of administrative law; and a coherent way to analyze large transactions which currently defy categorization. Second, as the current Court considers whether to invalidate existing jurisprudence which endorses “implied” rights, the existence of the charter power cuts against the theoretical case for doing so. Challenging the presumption against the legitimacy of unenumerated powers and rights, the charter power demonstrates that, in at least one case, a “silent” power was concrete, constrained, and original.
Recently filed, in Trump v. United States (the Supreme Court's pending presidential immunity case), Brief of Amici Curiae Scholars of the Founding Era in Support of Respondent. From the summary of argument:
Former President Trump is charged with conspiring to thwart the peaceful transfer of power following the 2020 election. In his defense, he asserts that a doctrine of permanent immunity from criminal liability for a President’s official acts, while not expressly provided by the Constitution, must be inferred. To justify this radical assertion, he contends that the original meaning of the Constitution demands it. But no plausible historical case supports his claim.
The Constitution does not expressly confer any presidential immunity, even though it does for members of Congress in limited cases. The Court must discern whether that silence indicates that permanent presidential immunity was so integral as to need no description (as Petitioner contends), or whether it reflects an intention not to confer immunity. That inquiry, in turn, would benefit from an examination of the historical record, including the Framers’ own statements and evidence of their views on accountability, the rule of law, and democracy. While “a page of history” may not always be “worth a volume of logic,” history provides valuable insight into the meaning and context of the words and principles at issue in Petitioner’s claim.
Sometimes history speaks ambiguously. But here, it speaks with surpassing clarity: The principle that a President may be prosecuted—which informed President Nixon’s 1974 pardon and President Clinton’s 2001 plea bargain—began in the beginning. As James Iredell, one of this Court’s inaugural justices, explained, “If [the President] commits any crime, he is punishable by the laws of his country.” ...
This historical record creates a heavy presumption against Presidential immunity. There is no evidence that any Framer intended for a President (much less a former President) to be immune from prosecution. The motivations, experiences, and statements of the Framers and ratifiers all support an understanding that the President would, unlike a king, be subject to the law. ...
The brief is signed by Holly Brewer, Rosemarie Zagarri, Jack N. Rakove, Jonathan Gienapp, Jane Manners, Gautham Rao, Saul Cornell, Alexander Keyssar, Jane E. Calvert, Joanne Freeman, David Konig, Jill Lepore, Peter S. Onuf, Michael A. Ross, and Alan Taylor.
(Via Legal History Blog.)
I mostly agree. More importantly, it's notable that these distinguished historians think history can (sometimes) provide definite answers to currently contested constitutional questions (a core claim of originalism). It's often said that the Constitution's original meaning is too ambiguous or too remote to provide such answers, and in support it's often said that historians dispute the central premise of originalist inquiry. But to the contrary, the brief's signers conclude that, as to the issues in this important case, history "speaks with surpassing clarity." Perhaps we can now retire the contention that historians don't believe originalism is possible.
Louis Capozzi (Lecturer in Law, University of Pennsylvania Carey Law School; Associate, Jones Day) has posted In Defense of the Major Questions Doctrine (Notre Dame Law Review, Vol. 100, 2024) (74 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
The major questions doctrine, which requires agencies claiming important powers to identify clear authority from Congress, is transforming administrative law. Breaking with recent practice, the doctrine prevents the executive branch from issuing laws addressing pressing novel issues without Congress’s affirmative consent.
In response, scholars have generally criticized the doctrine and questioned its legitimacy. Critics have alleged that the doctrine was fabricated by the Supreme Court without proper justification, is incapable of principled application, frustrates the intent of past Congresses to delegate broad power to agencies, aggrandizes judicial power, and hinders desirable executive-branch lawmaking.
This Article disagrees with those criticisms and defends the major questions doctrine. It offers five arguments—though more are possible. First, the doctrine appropriately enforces Article I’s requirement that Congress (not others) legislate on “important” subjects. Second, the doctrine is a straightforward application of longstanding constitutional avoidance. Third, within a textualist analysis, the doctrine reflects how readers would expect important powers to be delegated. Fourth, the major questions doctrine has deeper historical roots than most admit and is capable of continued incremental, common-law-style implementation. Finally, under a functionalist approach, the doctrine promotes a healthy balance of power within the federal government, preserves federalism, and protects the rule of law.
William Ortman (Wayne State University School of Law) has posted Confession and Confrontation (California Law Review, Vol. 113, forthcoming) (53 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
The constitutional law of confessions has a critical blind spot. In theory, it serves two interests. It protects the autonomy of suspects by stipulating that they can be questioned while in custody only with their consent. And it restrains official misconduct by forbidding interrogation methods that overbear a suspect’s will. Even if the law adequately safeguards those interests, something is missing: reliability. As false confessions emerge as a major source of wrongful convictions and as social scientists expose how standard interrogation tactics prompt innocent people to confess, the Supreme Court and conventional wisdom insist that the reliability of confessions is not a constitutional concern.
The Supreme Court and conventional wisdom are wrong. Inattention to reliability is a jurisprudential oversight, not a feature of constitutional design. The problem is that the Court and commentators have neglected the part of the Constitution that unabashedly curates prosecutorial evidence: the Confrontation Clause. For much of our constitutional history, that omission could be excused, as the Confrontation Clause was a sleepy corner of the Sixth Amendment. Twenty years ago, in Crawford v. Washington, the Supreme Court enlivened it.
This Article shows that a straightforward reading of Crawford, combined with a smattering of legal history, yields a simple but transformative rule: If police obtain a confession through psychologically manipulative tactics that induce “fear” or “hope,” the confession should be inadmissible unless the defendant testifies. Eighteenth-century jurists and modern social scientists agree that such tactics lead to unreliable confessions, yet they remain a staple of modern American interrogations. That would change if courts recognized the Confrontation Clause’s capacity to regulate confessions.
Those of us who are originalist scholars should do more than read what the Constitution’s drafters and ratifiers said and wrote. We also should read what they read. This enables us to produce a better product for the lawyers and judges who must apply the Constitution but cannot devote their lives to perusing ancient sources.
I was reminded of this point recently when reading about Richard Hooker.
“The Judicious Hooker,” as John Locke called him, was a highly regarded 16th century philosopher and theologian. He is remembered principally for his Of the Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity, a defense of the Church of England and its doctrine. It was on the list of works recommended in 1783 for congressional purchase by a committee consisting of James Madison of Virginia, Hugh Williamson of North Carolina, and Thomas Mifflin of Pennsylvania—all three of whom later served at the Constitutional Convention.
For the founding generation of Americans, Hooker’s work may have had more value for its contributions to law rather than religion. I found evidence of this when examining the book of Ecclesiastical Policy entitled, “Concerning Laws, and their several kinds in general.” The second chapter contains the following observations:
All these things that are, have some operation not violent or casual [i.e., by chance]: Neither doth any thing ever begin to exercise the same, without some fore-conceived end for which it worketh. And the end which it worketh for, is not obtained, unless the work be also fit to obtain it by; for unto every end, every operation will not serve. That which doth assign unto each thing the kind, that which doth moderate [i.e., control] the force and power, that which doth appoint the form and measure of working, the same we term a Law: So that no certain end could ever be attained, unless the Actions whereby it is attained were regular, that is to say, made suitable, fit, and correspondent unto their end by some Canon, Rule or Law.
In other words, an outcome that is not merely random is the product of a regular action (means) that is “suitable, fit, and correspondent” to the outcome. That means is law. Hooker’s description is broad enough to include natural laws such as gravitation and inertia, and man-made laws.
Perhaps Hooker’s language reminds you, as it reminded me, of Alexander Hamilton’s defense of the Necessary and Proper Clause in Federalist No. 33:
[The clause is] only declaratory of a truth which would have resulted by necessary and unavoidable implication from the very act of constituting a federal government, and vesting it with certain specified powers. . . .
What is a power, but the ability or faculty of doing a thing? What is the ability to do a thing, but the power of employing the means necessary to its execution? What is a LEGISLATIVE power, but a power of making LAWS? What are the means to execute a LEGISLATIVE power but LAWS? What is the power of laying and collecting taxes, but a legislative power, or a power of making laws, to lay and collect taxes? What are the proper means of executing such a power, but necessary and proper laws?
Or of this passage in Hamilton’s opinion on the constitutionality of the a national bank:
Now it appears to the Secretary of the Treasury [i.e., himself] that this general principle is inherent in the very definition of government, and essential to every step of progress to be made by that of the United States, namely: That every power vested in a government is in its nature sovereign, and includes, by force of the term, a right to employ all the means requisite and fairly applicable to the attainment of the ends of such power, and which are not precluded by restrictions and exceptions specified in the Constitution, or not immoral, or not contrary to the essential ends of political society.
Thus, to Hamilton, suitable laws were the means by which Congress exercised its powers—the exercise being its immediate end (and serving the ultimate ends of justice or the general welfare). If Hamilton did not get this concept directly from Hooker, he likely picked it up because it was “in the air.” Perhaps more than in in the air: Hamilton’s Anti-Federalist opponent “Cato” (Gov. George Clinton) quoted another observation from Hooker in a Nov. 22, 1787 essay in the New York Journal.
In 2010, Gary Lawson, Guy Seidman, Geoff Miller and I published The Origins of the Necessary and Proper Clause, which, unfortunately, did not mention the potential debt to Hooker. We did conclude that in 18th century legal language a law was “necessary” to an enumerated power if incidental to that power—that is, a subordinate but customary or reasonably necessary means of exercising the power. We also pointed out that 18th century enumerated-power documents often employed synonyms for “proper” like “suitable” and “fit”—two of the three words used by Hooker.
Eighteenth-century enumerated powers documents might require only that actions be necessary/needful . . . or only that they be proper/meet/suitable/fit . . . or that they be either one . . . or—as both in Hooker and in the Constitution—that they be both.
While I’m on an etymological roll, let me toss once more: In Hooker’s time, English enumerated-power documents often were written in Latin. The Latin predecessor to “necessary and proper” was necessaria et oportuna. In Latin, necessarius frequently means one’s relative or ancillary. Oportuna is the adjectival variant of the verb oportere, which means to be fitting or appropriate.
[Ed.: Rob Natelson is Senior Fellow in Constitutional Jurisprudence, The Independence Institute, Denver, Colorado, and Professor of Law (ret.), University of Montana.]
At Volokh Conspiracy, Josh Blackman: With the Lemon Test Dead, Can The Establishment Clause Be Unincorporated? From the introduction:
The Establishment Clause is something of an outlier in constitutional jurisprudence.
First, the Establishment Clause, as ratified in 1791, was a federalism provision. It prevented Congress from interfering with state establishments of religion. That provision suggests that states can have established religions, and that Congress cannot disestablish any of those religions. As all know, there were several established churches at the time of the founding. And if tradition means anything, then practices from 1791 are directly relevant to this question.
Second, as Justice Thomas has observed, such a federalism provision resists incorporation. I've not seen any compelling evidence from debates during the 39th Congress suggesting that the Fourteenth Amendment would place the states under the strictures of the Establishment Clause. (And if the Section 3 debates has taught us anything, the only relevant speeches that matter to understand the Fourteenth Amendments are remarks from congressional republicans in a narrow two-year window.) To be sure, there were comments about the freedom of conscience, perhaps as a privilege or immunity of citizenship, but not about the Establishment Clause in particular–and certainly not about how the Warren Court understood the Establishment Clause. And by the 1860s, all of the Established Churches had been disestablished. But as a practical matter, it was never clear to me how the Establishment Clause could even be incorporated as a privilege or immunity of citizenship, or even as a liberty protected by the Due Process Clause.
Third, the Establishment Clause doctrine developed in the Twentieth Century was based on a misreading of Jefferson's letter to the Danbury Baptist, and ignored the overwhelming amount of evidence that others in the founding generation did not share Jefferson's views. (See Justice Scalia's dissents in Lee v. Weisman and McCreary County.) And there was no attempt to graft it in how religion was understood in the 1860s.
Fourth, the Establishment Clause has had anomalous effects in other areas of the law, such as "taxpayer" standing and "offended observer" standing. (I've referred to these adjustments as "epicycles.") These doctrines were invented to ensure there was standing to consider cases based on invented doctrines. Legal fictions all the way down. Really, all we are left with is a stare decisis defense of Establishment Clause cases. We know how much that is worth.
The Court has begun to correct course....
And in conclusion:
So I pose the question: can the Establishment Clause be unincorporated? The federal government would remain subject to the clause–perhaps even subject to modern doctrine. National policy would still have to be religiously neutral. But states would only be subject to the strictures of the Free Exercise Clause. The originalist case for incorporating the Establishment Clause never made sense. That caselaw has engendered massive and unending controversies. And it has distorted other areas of caselaw. Whatever concrete reliance interests could be addressed through a properly-understood Free Exercise Clause. The only claims that would fall out would be those that have no basis on text, history, or tradition.
Readers of this post may be rolling there eyes, but this is how change start. Seeds are planted and things grow. There is some scholarship defending the incorporation of the Establishment Clause by Kurt Lash and Fred Gedicks. Those might be good places to start thinking about the issue.
As a practical matter, I think most of the effect of un-incorporation can be achieved by cutting the establishment clause back to its original meaning (as the post suggests is already happening) and shifting its supposed anti-discrimination components to the free exercise clause (as the post advocates).
Stephen E. Sachs (Harvard Law School) has posted Dormant Commerce and Corporate Jurisdiction (Supreme Court Review, Vol. 2023 (forthcoming)) (35 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
Since 1945, the Court has sought for substantive rules of personal jurisdiction in the depths of Fourteenth Amendment due process. Mallory v. Norfolk Southern Railway Co. returns “dormant commerce” doctrine to the field—a place it occupied for several decades in the twentieth century, before being swept away and largely forgotten after International Shoe.
This Article assesses the impact of dormant commerce’s return. Under today’s doctrines, plaintiffs like Robert Mallory may face an uphill battle; yet they also have some good arguments on their side. On original grounds, moreover, it’s far from clear that there is any dormant commerce doctrine, or that such a doctrine would have anything to say about the existence, powers, or internal affairs of state-created corporations in other states. At the Founding, states didn’t have to recognize the privileges of foreign corporations at all, so they could make consent to local jurisdiction a condition of those privileges’ local exercise.
By destroying the foundations of this earlier doctrine, the Supreme Court’s turn-of-the-century dormant commerce cases eventually led to the recentering of personal jurisdiction on due process instead—and on complex and contradictory jurisdictional rules, less concerned with enforcing the actual Fourteenth Amendment than with preserving the legacy of International Shoe. If our doctrines of personal jurisdiction aren’t going to make sense anyway, they may as well actually be law. Mallory doesn’t quite get us there, but at least it points us in the right direction.
(Via Larry Solum at Legal Theory Blog, who says "Magnificent. Highly recommended. Download it while it's hot!")
I agree, especially that (a) Mallory seems generally correct from an originalist perspective, (b) the law of personal jurisdiction needs an originalist overhaul, and (c) the idea that the dormant commerce clause would be a useful addition to this field is ill-conceived.
Derek Webb (Senior Research Scholar, Yale Law School) has posted The Lost History of Judicial Restraint (100 Notre Dame L. Rev. (forthcoming 2024)) (67 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
This article attempts to answer a question of great contemporary significance – what role courts should play in our democracy. Specifically, it attempts to answer the question of what standard of review courts should use in deciding constitutional cases.
It does so by recovering a lost history of how American jurists conceived that role from the American founding to the close of the nineteenth century. It draws upon a voluminous and diverse array of nineteenth century treatises, legal dictionaries, encyclopedias, case books, and manuals of federal practice, on the one hand, most of which have never before been examined, and federal and state supreme court cases in all fifty states on the other, to show, contra prominent legal historians and many leading contemporary originalists, that by the close of the nineteenth century, there was an overwhelming consensus in favor of the presumption of constitutionality, clear error rule, and reasonable doubt standard. James Bradley Thayer, who popularized those rules and gave them a unique theoretical justification in his classic 1893 article “The Origin and Scope of the American Doctrine of Constitutional Law,” did not just invent those rules. He was not, as Learned Hand put it, and many of his critics have subsequently agreed, the “prophet of a new approach.” Rather, he was just one – albeit distinguished and influential – member of a vast yet now forgotten chorus of treatise writers and jurists throughout the country, eventually in all fifty states, who defended a cautious, deferential, and restrained approach to invalidating the acts of democratic bodies.
My thesis is that over the course of America’s first century, there emerged a much broader and richer historical consensus around judicial restraint than the advocates or critics of restraint have ever acknowledged. From its earliest origins in the transatlantic constitution, and through piecemeal legal practice in state and federal courts, before and after the creation of the Constitution, the “Thayerian” “rules of administration” associated with judicial restraint were eventually adopted by both the U.S. Supreme Court and all fifty state supreme courts in the country.
This has implications not only for legal history but for understanding the scope of the judicial power and duty today. By attempting to recapture this mostly "lost history of judicial restraint," I argue that during America’s first century, through the “discussions” in legal treatises and the “adjudications” in all the country’s apex supreme courts, all pointing overwhelmingly and uniformly in the direction of restraint, the Constitution’s standard of review, and the very meaning of "the judicial power" in Article III, appears to have been fixed or “liquidated" during America's first century.
At Volokh Conspiracy, Christian Burset (Notre Dame) (guest-blogging): Advisory Opinions and Military Jurisdiction: New Light on Sackville's Case (1760). From the introduction:
Every year since 1967, the British consulate in Chicago has received an anonymous delivery of roses on August 1. The mysterious flowers commemorate the Battle of Minden (1759), when British and German forces defeated the French army. Some British regiments still celebrate Minden, which helped set the stage for Britain's victory in the Seven Years' War. But it was an unhappy occasion for Britain's senior commander, Lord George Sackville, who was accused of cowardice when he failed to pursue and decisively destroy the retreating French. After the battle, Sackville resigned his commission and returned to England, where he decided that the only way to recover his reputation was to have a court-martial judge his actions and (he hoped) exonerate him.
The subsequent proceedings left a small but significant mark on U.S. constitutional law. Because Sackville was no longer an officer, it wasn't clear that he could be judged under military law. George II asked the twelve common-law judges for their advice on the matter, and they complied. Their terse opinion found "no ground to doubt of the legality of the jurisdiction of a Court-Martial" in Sackville's situation—i.e., an ex-officer being tried "for a military offence lately committed by him while in actual service and pay as an officer." For that reason, courts, lawyers, and scholars have cited Sackville's Case to illuminate Founding-era understandings of military jurisdiction over former servicemembers.
The decision has also been also cited as the last advisory opinion that English judges delivered to the Crown. Although the judges answered the King's request for an opinion, they did so grudgingly, asking to be spared from such tasks in the future. The judges' response has been used to illuminate the boundaries of justiciability under Article III of the U.S. Constitution. (I've previously written about Sackville's Case in that context.)
Despite its potential importance, Sackville's Case can be a frustrating source to use. The operative part of the reported opinion consists of a single sentence that sheds little light on the ratio decidendi. Indeed, the judges' reasoning is so opaque that some lawyers have refused to treat it as authority.
As often happens, however, the published opinion isn't the only version of the case. Sir Thomas Parker, Chief Baron of the Exchequer and one of the judges who participated in Sackville's Case, wrote a summary of the discussion among the judges before they gave their opinion. His notes of the conversation are now among the Parker Manuscripts at the Lilly Library, Indiana University Bloomington.
I've transcribed the document below, and readers can draw their own conclusions about its significance. But it might be helpful for me to note three possible implications—related to military jurisdiction, to advisory opinions, and to eighteenth-century approaches to legal argumentation. ...
(Thanks to Samuel Bray for the pointer.)
In The New Republic, Simon Lazarus: Conservatives Don’t Have a Monopoly on Originalism. From the introduction:
Last month, the conservative writer Ramesh Ponnuru published an op-ed in The Washington Post arguing that Democrats “have lost the debate about the role of courts in our democracy.” He detailed how conservatives over two generations “developed a comprehensive strategy, including politically powerful rhetoric,” to shift the federal courts toward their way of thinking. “Judges shouldn’t rewrite the law in the guise of interpreting it, they said; judges should be umpires, not players taking a turn at bat,” wrote Ponnuru, the editor of National Review. “Conservatives warned against letting judges have wide leeway to fill in the meaning of apparently vague language, instead urging them to be constrained by what the informed public understood the words of the law meant when it was ratified.” By which he means, of course, originalism.
...
Ponnuru might be right about conservatives’ rhetorical success, but the tacit premise of his essay—that conservatives alone embrace originalism—is dead wrong. That could have been a fair point in the 1980s, when President Reagan’s second-term Attorney General Edwin Meese, Judge Robert Bork, Justice Antonin Scalia, and other luminaries of the new legal right first hoisted the banner of originalism—and liberal Justice William Brennan responded with a dubious counterpoint slogan, “living constitutionalism.” But not today. While some in the media and even in the Democratic Party conflate originalism with legal conservatism, a compelling contrary vision has emerged on the left: that rigorous fidelity to the text and history of the Constitution—a holistic interpretation that includes its amendments as well as legislative debates at the time, as opposed to conservatives’ penchant for cherry-picking isolated provisions out of context—often yields liberal results.
As Harvard Law’s Cass Sunstein wrote in this magazine nearly a quarter-century ago, while “Justice Scalia is the most famous originalist; in the law schools the most influential originalist may be Akhil Reed Amar, an ingenious and prolific scholar.” Unlike conservative originalists, he observed, Amar contends that “a fair reading of text and history supports liberal, sometimes even radical, conclusions.” Amar was soon joined by his Yale Law colleague Jack Balkin, who likewise stressed, “We follow the original meaning of words in order to preserve the Constitution’s legal meaning over time, as required by the rule of law.” But along with Amar, Balkin recognized that the Constitution’s terse terminology, many of its specific provisions, and key explanations by the Framers prescribed broad authority for future generations to adapt to changing circumstances and evolving political and moral precepts.
David S. Schwartz (University of Wisconsin Law School) has posted May 30, 1787 (16 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
In Federalist 39, James Madison characterized the proposed Constitution as "partly national, and partly federal." The federalism debates that have dominated constitutional law and politics from the beginning of the republic to the present play out the tensions between, and relative weights of, these "national" and "federal" elements. The history of U.S. constitutional politics is one in which the nationalism of the Philadelphia Convention was rhetorically downplayed in the ratification debates, and then significantly rolled back by erstwhile Anti-Federalists who became ascendant after the election of 1800. The dominance of the Anti-Federalist-influenced Jeffersonian Republican party after 1800 habituated our constitutional order to an ideology of federalism that, to this day, exaggerates the Constitution's original commitment to its "partly federal" character. Our understanding of U.S. federalism and its history is doomed to incompleteness, if not distortion, without a proper account of the evolution the word "federal" in our constitutional order, from its origin as a descriptor of the decentralized Confederation system to a descriptor of today's predominantly centralized national government. This essay offers a first step toward a semantic or etymological history of the word "federal," by describing and analyzing the first significant appearance of the words "national" and "federal" at the outset of the Philadelphia Convention. I argue that, to the Framers, "federal" referred to the Confederation system that they believed was a failure. On the first day of substantive debate "May 30, 1787" the Framers decisively rejected a "federal" constitution in favor of a "national" one. This decision guided their deliberations for the rest of the Convention, only to be swept under the rug by the rhetorical strategy of the pro-ratification "Federalists."
At Prawfsblawg, Paul Horwitz comments on this New York Times op-ed (paywalled) by Marc O. DeGirolami: Something Other Than Originalism Explains This Supreme Court. From Professor Horwitz's post:
A nice op-ed from my friend Marc DeGirolami on traditionalism, in the New York Times, which I was happy to see gave him enough space to decently lay out his view. Although the topic is not especially timely (I mean that in a good way, on the whole! "Timeliness" is an overrated and distorting quality.), he finds a nice hook by contrasting it with recent statements by Stephen Breyer and Kevin Newsom.
Normally I would say "Don't read the comments," which is the prevailing rule for sensible people everywhere. (And one that adds a sizeable question mark to claims about the democratizing discursive value of social media.) In this case I violated the rule and found it instructive. Of course there is a good deal of inanity. But much of that lay inanity reproduces exactly what ostensibly more educated and elite people who are actually in the law game have been doing for the last several years, in the time-honored tradition of fighting the last war: They give lip service to "traditionalism" or "history and tradition" up front, suggest they will be talking about it in what follows, and then proceed to criticize originalism in great detail. (Although Marc was early to this iteration of legal traditionalism, some scholars have actually started writing interesting articles about traditionalism that are actually about traditionalism, viz. recent pieces by Sherif Girgis, Felipe Jiménez, and Larry Solum. These are the exceptions.) Or they make what they think are the killer arguments against traditionalism--pointing to bad past practices or traditions--without acknowledging that most of them were addressed firmly and rightly by the Civil War Amendments and other constitutional amendments, which are an appropriate way to entrench the societal recognition that some traditions must change; others were killed in the way that bad traditions are, by the accretion of time and practice, a possibility that Mark recognizes more than once in the piece itself; and others may be constitutional but need not be enacted or practiced. (The preponderance of the remaining comments simply adopt the expedient of talking about something else.)
You need not take any of this as an endorsement of traditionalism as a constitutional practice. I do think however that whether it is a full-on, name-in-neon-lights modality or not, accounting for and invoking tradition is not new (many of our most celebrated First Amendment decisions, for example, engage at least for rhetorical purposes in the invocation and celebration of real or fictive traditions), is probably inevitable, and happens even in the most lively of living traditionalist opinions. And I think Marc has done a valuable job in naming (or renaming) the practice. But I reserve further judgment. What I would like to see, even in a short-ish op-ed and certainly in his book, where I'm sure it will appear, is a deeper dive into all sorts of questions ...
At the Blog of the Duke Center for Firearms Law, Thomas Moy: Western District of Texas Judge Strikes Down the Alien-in-Possession Ban. From the introduction:
On December 11, the Western District of Texas struck down 18 U.S.C. § 922(g)(5), the illegal alien firearms prohibitor, in United States v. Sing-Ledezma. The case is the latest of many decisions invalidating various prohibited-person restrictions in the wake of Bruen (chief among them United States v. Rahimi, which the Supreme Court is currently considering). Section 922(g)(5) states in relevant part that “[i]t shall be unlawful for any person . . . who, being an alien is illegally or unlawfully in the United States . . . to possess in or affecting commerce, any firearm or ammunition.” Prior to Sing-Ledezma, every federal district and circuit court to consider the prohibition under Bruen upheld the statute. In United States v. Sitladeen, the Eight Circuit, thus far the only court of appeals to address the issue, upheld Section 922(g)(5) on the grounds that illegal aliens are not part of “the people” with Second Amendment rights and thus did not qualify for its protections. Sing-Ledezma reached a contrary result due primarily to two major differences in how the court applied Bruen.
First, Bruen “step one” directs courts to determine if the defendant’s “conduct” falls within the purview of the Second Amendment. Courts have struggled with what exactly the relevant “conduct” is for purposes of the historical-analogical test. In Sing-Ledezma, the government argued that the conduct at issue was being an “unlawfully present alien in possession of a firearm.” This status-based distinction had been utilized previously to uphold the statute, including in Sitladeen. Here, however, the court rejected such an argument. Instead, citing Fifth Circuit precedent, it determined that any attempt to expand the scope of the “conduct” beyond mere possession of a firearm was “unavailing.” Thus, Sing-Ledezma found the conduct “plainly protected by the Second Amendment.”
Second, the way the Sing-Ledezma court conducted its historical analysis differed greatly from other courts. ...
And in conclusion:
Irrespective of the historical analysis, the court’s reasoning at the predicate step, I think, has a gaping hole. Much of the decision is based upon an assumption that concerns about foreigners stepping onto American soil are not new, and, therefore, the absence of similar historical laws renders (g)(5) unconstitutional. Indeed, that assumption is what framed the court’s analysis of the government’s proffered historical analogues. This assumption is made despite the fact that government regulation of immigration, much less the notion of illegal immigration, did not exist when the Second Amendment was ratified. The court acknowledged as much and even commented that, “when the Second Amendment was ratified in 1791, there had been and continued to be a large influx of foreigners coming to the United States without having been previously vetted and without having their belongings searched or weapons seized.” Immigration is therefore unlike domestic violence, which was undoubtedly a societal problem that the American people faced at the Founding. The lack of a codified immigration system, then, indicates that Americans at the Founding did not consider immigration, specifically the vetting of immigrants, to be “a general societal problem.” The court instead seemed to assume a general continuity of concern about foreigners entering the United States, a reading I don’t fully grasp.
This reasoning, of course, also presumes that Founding-era history best informs our understanding of the Second Amendment. Justice Thomas suggested in Bruen that Reconstruction-era history could also aid in interpreting the Second Amendment. Using this later time period as a reference might change the analysis. For example, the Page Act of 1875 restricted the immigration of Asian, mostly Chinese, women who were considered “undesirable.” The Chinese Exclusion Act followed a few years later, in 1882. These laws could be stronger evidence of a general societal concern surrounding immigration, lending more credence to the absence of firearm-specific regulation. The government has appealed Sing-Ledezma to the Fifth Circuit, so we haven’t yet seen the end of the case.
(Thanks the Alan Beck for the pointer.)
It's not my area but I find it textually plausible that aliens who are not lawfully admitted are not part of the "people" protected by the Second Amendment. (That might uncomfortably suggest, though, that similarly they are not part of the "people" protected by the Fourth Amendment either).
Anthony J. Bellia Jr. (Notre Dame Law School) and Bradford R. Clark (George Washington University Law School) have posted State Sovereign Immunity and the New Purposivism (William & Mary Law Review, Vol. 485, No. 65, 2024) (98 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
Since the Constitution was first proposed, courts and commentators have debated the extent to which it alienated the States’ preexisting sovereign immunity from suit by individuals. During the ratification period, these debates focused on the language of the citizen-state diversity provisions of Article III. After the Supreme Court read these provisions to abrogate state sovereign immunity in Chisholm v. Georgia, Congress and the States adopted the Eleventh Amendment to prohibit this construction. The Court subsequently ruled that States enjoy sovereign immunity independent of the Eleventh Amendment, which neither conferred nor diminished it. In the late twentieth-century, Congress began enacting statutes seeking to override state sovereign immunity. In reviewing these acts, the Court established that Congress may abrogate immunity when exercising its powers to enforce the Fourteenth Amendment, but not when exercising its Article I powers. This distinction is consistent with the original public meaning of the constitutional text understood in historical context. Recently, in a surprising turnabout, the Court abandoned this established paradigm by finding that the States agreed to an implied “structural waiver” of their sovereign immunity in the “plan of the Convention” whenever such immunity would “thwart” or “frustrate” the purpose underlying a congressional power that is “complete in itself.” The Court’s new purposive approach to state sovereign immunity is incompatible with the Constitution because it gives courts open-ended discretion to alter the federal-state balance established by the instrument. As Alexander Hamilton explained, because the Constitution “aims only at a partial union or consolidation,” “the whole tenor of the instrument” requires adherence to “the rule that all authorities, of which the States are not explicitly divested in favor of the Union, remain with them in full vigor.” Under this rule, the “plan of the Convention”—properly understood—divested the States of their sovereign rights only when it did so clearly and expressly or by unavoidable implication. By relying on a strongly purposive methodology to find implied structural waivers of state sovereign immunity, the Court’s new approach disregards this fundamental rule and thus the Constitution itself.
Austin Piatt (J.D. Northwestern University, Pritzker School of Law) & Damonta Morgan (J.D. Columbia University, School of Law) have posted The Three Major Questions Doctrines (Wisconsin Law Review Forward, Vol. 2023, No. 6, 2024) (19 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
After the Supreme Court’s decision in Biden v. Nebraska, we now have three interpretations of the major questions doctrine—or, at least, three different approaches to that doctrine. The "clear statement approach," championed by Justice Gorsuch, relies heavily on the nondelegation doctrine, requiring Congress to speak clearly when empowering agencies. The "contextual approach," espoused by Justice Barrett, eschews reliance on such clear statement principles, believing that resort to these considerations disobeys the commands of textualism. Instead, the contextual approach focuses on the context that surrounds the statute, then applies a healthy dose of commonsense to interpret the limits of a congressional delegation. Finally, the "hybrid approach," as explained and applied by Chief Justice Roberts, mixes nondelegation principles with context and commonsense. While only the hybrid approach has gained the support of a majority of justices, the clear statement and contextual approaches lurk in the background. And as the Court applies the major questions doctrine to a variety of legal issues, which approach wins out will have important implications for future congressional and agency action. This Essay is the first to identify the various strands and explain their consequences for future legislation.
Seems right and helpful to me. My assessment of the major questions doctrine as a clear statement rule is here.
Zalman Rothschild (Bigelow Fellow & Lecturer in Law, University of Chicago Law School) has posted The Impossibility of Religious Equality (Columbia Law Review (2024-2025), forthcoming) (62 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
The Supreme Court has recently adopted a new rule of religious equality: if a law denies religious exemptions but provides other exemptions that undermine the law’s interests to the same degree as would a religious exemption, the law wrongfully discriminates against religion. This approach has commanded broad agreement in principle from the entire Supreme Court and from scholars of different stripes. At the same time, some of the doctrine’s defenders have taken issue with how some courts have applied it. This Article’s central claim is that the problem is more fundamental. Any principle of religious equality of the sort the Court has recently articulated is inherently unworkable, in part because it turns on treating that which is religious the same as its secular “comparators.” But religion is not comparable to anything—not in terms of its essence or its value. The current doctrine requires assuming that the category of “religion” is always at least as valuable as all that is “secular”—that is, that religion qua religion is as valuable as, and thus must always be treated as well as, all that is simply “not religion.” This assumption lacks both conceptual coherence and a normative basis. It also renders religious “equality” a contradiction in terms as it establishes not religious equality, but religious superiority.
Retired Justice Stephen Breyer has recently called for age and term limits for Supreme Court justices. While I don’t often agree with Breyer, this is an exception.
I favor term limits for Supreme Court Justices – 18 year terms for each justice applied to future appointments through a constitutional amendment. This would largely solve the problem of aging justices. It would also have several other important benefits.
But such term limits might not be enacted. If they can’t be enacted, we should adopt a constitutional amendment prohibiting justices from serving once they reach 80 years of age. It is crude but it is necessary.
One reason why justices (and Presidents) require age limits is that in the modern world, staffs can do the work for them, allowing them to continue serving during their longer life spans. The justices (and Presidents) can make the decisions but may not really be competent enough to be doing so.
At Volokh Conspiracy, Philip Hamburger (guest-blogging): Abridging, Not Coercing, Is The First Amendment's Yardstick for Speech Violations. From the introduction (to a long post):
Is coercion the First Amendment's measure of the freedom of speech? In commenting on Murthy v. Missouri, Prof. Ilya Somin takes the view that "coercion is the appropriate standard." To this he merely adds that "veiled, but credible threats of retaliation by government officials qualify as such coercion."
So far does he take this emphasis on coercion that, from his perspective, there is no First Amendment violation even when the government uses "significant encouragement" to get the private party to concede "active control" over its speech decisions. In the absence of coercion (including credible threats of retaliation) he apparently sees no limit on the power government can exercise over speech if it gets consent.
The First Amendment, however, has something to say about coercion. Prof. Somin recognizes the argument I make in Courting Censorship, that the First Amendment bars government from "abridging" the freedom of speech, and thus bars reducing that freedom. But he fails to note that the amendment also bars government from "prohibiting" the free exercise of religion. The amendment's contrasting uses of abridging and prohibiting are meaningful. Id, at 254.
The contrast reveals that Prof. Somin's coercion argument misattributes to free speech the standard that the amendment uses for free exercise. The word prohibiting seems to refer to various forms of coercion. So, when the First Amendment instead speaks of abridging the freedom of speech, it would seem to be adopting a different measure of government action for that right. The freedom of speech is violated by a mere reducing of that freedom, whether or not through coercion.
It is therefore unconvincing to suggest that coercion is the measure of freedom of speech. That contradicts the plain meaning of the First Amendment when it contrasts abridging and prohibiting.
Where did Prof. Somin go wrong? He gets to his coercion standard from the word "freedom," arguing that if a private party "cut[s] back on speech voluntarily, the freedom of speech has not been abridged." His theory seems to be that you have not had your freedom abridged if you give consent, and you are acting consensually unless you are coerced. Thus, although the First Amendment's very words make clear that coercion is not the standard for freedom of speech, he reintroduces a coercion standard on the theory that it is the opposite of freedom and consent.
But does it make sense to introduce a coercion standard into a right when the Constitution carefully speaks of it in terms of abridging and contrasts that to prohibiting? Such reasoning defeats the Constitution's words and meaning.
Professor Somin responds here: Abridgement, Coercion, and Freedom of Speech: Reply to Philip Hamburger
At Prawfsblawg, Richard Re: Pulsifer v. United States as Permissive Interpretation. From the introduction:
When someone has a hammer, every problem risks looking like a nail. And when a legal scholar has a theory, every case risks becoming an application of it.
With that disclaimer in mind, I think that Pulsifer v. United States, the Supreme Court’s recent statutory interpretation chestnut, nicely illustrates my view (elaborated here) that statutory interpretation is largely permissive as well as structured by three “basic rules.”
In brief, Pulsifer involved a statute whose literal text naturally invites a reading that would have helped many criminal defendants. But lots of contextual information made that literal reading seem like an odd fit with the legislature’s apparent goals.
For example, the statute took the following form: “defendants are entitled to resentencing if they do not have A, B, and C.” This construction is most naturally read conjunctively, so that the property of having A-and-B-and-C is what disqualifies someone from the benefit. By analogy, “Don’t drink and drive” means “don’t drink-and-drive,” not “don’t drink” and also “don’t drive.”
But that conjunctive reading has some strange implications in the statute at issue. As the Pulsifer Court argued, for instance, the literal reading “would allow relief to defendants with more serious [criminal] records while barring relief to defendants with less serious ones.” That result seems at odds with the legislature’s evident goals in distributing resentencing opportunities.
This glimpse of the back-and-forth in Pulsifer suggests a conflict between two of the basic rules. First, the literal rule allows courts to enforce a statute’s literal meaning. Second, the mischief rule allows courts to deviate from literal meaning when doing so comports with actual legislative goals. ...
At Lawfare, Trevor Morrison: Moving Beyond Absolutes on Presidential Immunity. From the introduction:
Since the Supreme Court granted certiorari to review the presidential immunity issue in Trump v. United States, much has been said about the Court’s choice to wait until late April for oral argument. If the Court ultimately rejects Trump’s claim of immunity, it is not clear whether there will be time for the trial to happen before the November 2024 election. That is a concern. Equally concerning, at least, is the possibility that the Court might hold Trump immune. We cannot discount the possibility that the timing the Court selected for oral argument could reflect that at least five justices are presently inclined to hold Trump immune and thus are not worried about leaving time for a trial. To hold Trump immune would be a grave constitutional error and a travesty of justice. Yet describing precisely why is not as straightforward as some commentators have suggested. In my view, former presidents are immune from federal prosecution for exercising those powers that the Constitution grants to them exclusively, in ways that Congress may not regulate. But the immunity should extend no further, and Trump’s case involves no such exercise of power.
Ian C. Bartrum (University of Nevada, Las Vegas, William S. Boyd School of Law) has posted Structural Originalism: A Better Theory of the Second Amendment (65 pages) on SSRN. Here is the abstract:
This article describes and defends an alternative approach to constitutional originalism, and uses this approach to justify a better theory of the Second Amendment. Rather than fixate on the text and hypothesized accounts of original public meanings, it recommends a historical focus on constitutional structure and design. This more holistic use of history asks how the Constitution intended various political institutions to interact when faced with new and unforeseeable policy disputes. It generally does not privilege the normative or ideological judgments of an earlier society but seeks instead to identify the political institutions the Constitution entrusted to make those judgments in a changing world. The Court’s role is thus to preserve the historical structure of substantive political decision-making; not enforce the historical substance itself.
The structural originalist account of the Second Amendment first identifies the relevant natural rights at issue—the right to revolution or political resistance, and the right to private self-defense. The Constitution assigned care of these distinct rights to distinct institutions, each an instantiation of the sovereign People. The constitutional right to revolution fell to the universal militia, while the common-law right to self-defense rested with juries. The original Second Amendment protected the militia’s ability to exercise the right of revolution but left the common law of self-defense untouched. In the years preceding the Civil War, states often regulated arms used in private conflict, and this was not thought to conflict with the constitutional right to bear arms. More radical abolitionists began to push for an “individual” right to revolution, but this was far from the mainstream view when the War began. In the years following the War, Congress enacted legislation and the Fourteenth Amendment to combat ongoing racial subordination in the South. The language of those enactments evinces a clear desire simply to end racial discrimination in state laws, including in the common law of self-defense. Contemporaneous constitutional commentary and the Court’s decision in United State v. Cruikshank confirms the states’ continuing authority to regulate private violence and the scope of common law self-defense-—so long as blacks and whites are treated alike. Structural originalism thus produces a better, common-sense account of the Second and Fourteenth Amendments; one which permits states to regulate self-defense and the weapons of private violence in racially nondiscriminatory ways.
At Law & Liberty, John McGinnis: Justice Breyer’s Problematic “Pragmatism” (reviewing Stephen Breyer, (Simon & Schuster 2024)). From the introduction:
Nothing has improved Steven Breyer’s legal theory work so much as leaving the Supreme Court. His two books of scholarship as a justice were busts. Active Liberty claimed that the Court should shape its jurisprudence to advance democracy. But most of what was interesting about that proposition had already been stated more eloquently and persuasively by John Hart Ely in his brilliant book, Democracy and Distrust. And unlike Breyer, Ely acknowledged forthrightly that his principles required him to say that Roe v. Wade was egregiously wrong as a legal decision even if he favored abortion rights as a political matter. Breyer never analyzed Roe at all.
Next, in The Authority of the Court and the Perils of Politics, Breyer argued that the Court could maintain its authority only by avoiding acting in a political manner. But he never unpacked the meaning of the inherently vague term “political.” Worse still, he never considered why a jurisprudence that advances inherently vague terms (like “democracy” for instance) should not be seen as more political than one that sticks to the text.
Now, less than two years after resigning as a Justice, Breyer has written Reading the Constitution: Why I Chose Pragmatism, not Textualism. It has the virtue of providing a candid, clear, and comprehensive exposition of his approach to both statutory and constitutional interpretation. Moreover, some of his criticisms of too-wooden textualism are well taken. Nevertheless, while much better than his previous efforts, the book has two substantial failings. First, he often makes strawmen of the views of his opponents, particularly when discussing originalism. And he inadvertently shows how radical his rejection of textualism is. His views sometimes cannot even attract the more liberal justices on the Court, and they would often require rewriting rather than interpreting statutes.