Articles

The Supreme Court has two sides. On its ordinary docket, the Court answers questions of law after briefing and oral argument. On its extraordinary docket, the Court fields applications from litigants asking it to equitably set the status of a new law or executive action while a lawsuit is pending. Only a decade ago, the equity side was an obscure backwater of Supreme Court practice; today it is where the Court confronts some of the most contested and consequential public law disputes. This aspect of the Court’s work has taken on various labels—the shadow docket, emergency docket, interim docket, to name a few. This Article proposes the “equity docket.” That term best captures what is distinctive about this growing part of the Court’s business and helps us to get a normative handle on where the Court has gone right—and wrong. Any judicial practice grounded in equity will be vulnerable to the charges of arbitrariness and lack of transparency. Historically, equity was able to reform itself successfully in response to these charges. Our basic contention is that the Court has assumed a far-reaching new form of equitable jurisdiction without also accepting the historical guardrails that both limited and legitimated equity. The Article makes three contributions. First, it links the emergence of the equity docket to the Court’s broader engagement with the history of federal equity in recent years—what some have called the “new equity.” Second, it argues that the Court has lost sight of important constraints that kept equity in a subsidiary position. And finally, it suggests that the Court on the equity docket has impoverished the traditional inputs of equitable decisionmaking, relying almost exclusively on hastily formed predictions about the merits. In place of the Court’s current approach, we propose a model of a more objective, “filtered” conscience, drawn from the history of equity, that would give proper weight to precedent and keep the equity docket from engulfing the Court.

Around the country, jurisdictions have begun enacting second-look resentencing statutes that allow individuals serving long prison sentences to seek reduced terms, presenting the opportunity to chip away at mass incarceration. However, implementation has stalled over failures of understanding. In particular, courts and prosecutors have difficulty hearing the experiences of incarcerated petitioners, leading to limited decarceration. Moreover, defense counsels, even if well-meaning, can bring their implicit (and even explicit) biases, privilege, and narrative chauvinism into their relationships with resentencing clients, impeding their ability to effectively present clients’ stories to these decisionmakers.

One solution is for defense counsels to embrace a suite of community-based strategies and partnerships that have already been appearing in the pre-sentence context. The disconnect between lawyers and clients can be epistemic, with attorneys at times failing to fully grasp what their clients are telling them, or, if they do understand, struggling to present those stories in a legible way to decisionmakers. This divide can be even more potent in the resentencing context than pre-sentence, when attorneys are representing clients who have spent years behind bars—an experience these lawyers rarely have shared. The power of these interventions, often termed “participatory defense practice,” is that they enable attorneys to leverage the expertise of those who know their clients best or with lived experience, helping to overcome these disconnects. The interventions this Article proposes for widespread adoption include (1) utilizing community-prepared mitigation packets during resentencing, (2) calling formerly incarcerated expert witnesses to testify about the experience of incarceration, (3) enlisting the help of peer navigators in reentry, and (4) relying on community-produced resentencing toolkits to present their cases most effectively. By putting these tools into widespread use in second-look resentencing, defense counsels can amplify client voices, improve the informational environment in which resentencings are occurring, and achieve better resentencing results. If brought to bear more broadly, these participatory practices have the potential to transform lawyering, shift common understandings about client life experience, and lead to decarceration.

The last half century of American statutory interpretation theory grew out of a U.S. Constitution that never prescribes how to read statutes. This has compelled the mistaken conclusion that constitutional law can have little to say about two of the most fundamental questions in statutory interpretation: whether courts should be able to treat interpretive methods as binding precedents, and whether interpretive methods need to reflect the customs and beliefs of “the people” to be democratically legitimate. But while the U.S. Constitution never directly prescribes how to read statutes, astoundingly twelve state constitutions do. Those state constitutions contain what I call “directly interpretive constitutional provisions”—constitutional provisions that on their own terms supply a mandatory method of statutory interpretation.

In this Article, I gather these overlooked and under-theorized provisions together for the first time, present original historical case studies on the surprising reasons they came into being, and offer the first sustained analysis of how they have been used in practice. In uncovering this neglected category of statutory interpretation law, this Article demonstrates how two critical assumptions of existing statutory interpretation theories derived from the U.S. Constitution—that interpretive methods are justifiable on democratic grounds merely if they reflect a proper balance of power between government institutions and that only weak and sub-constitutional sources of law are available to ground interpretive methodology as binding precedent—are poor fits for state-level statutory interpretation. By developing an alternative account of a directly democratic and constitutional foundation at the state level, this Article both introduces a new framework for understanding state statutory interpretation on its own terms and provides a counterpoint against which we can measure the relative democratic legitimacy and legality of federal statutory interpretation methodology.

Most fundamentally, this Article contends that in most states the democratic and constitutional bases of statutory interpretation methods ultimately rest not on the institutional dialogue among courts, legislatures, and executives (as may be the case with federal statutory interpretation), but instead on popular sovereignty—on the public’s ongoing formal participation through elections in directly approving, disapproving, or deferring to government on those methods. As this Article further argues, people have exercised their sovereignty in limited yet surprising ways that reveal what I call a “democratic division of interpretive labor”—a formally legitimized allocation of statutory interpretation functions between government and civil society.

These insights lend themselves to three practical upshots. First, courts applying these constitutional provisions should not treat the required methods as if they obeyed the same rules as judge-made canons of interpretation. Second, state constitutions’ distinctive commitments to popular sovereignty and to limiting legislative plenary power provide new grounds for why statutory interpretation methodology should differ between the state and federal levels; meanwhile, the fact that only some states allow citizens to unilaterally amend their constitutions provides a new reason why statutory interpretation methodology should differ from state to state. Finally, the political infeasibility of constitutionally overriding a given interpretive method should be a factor against judicial entrenchment of that method as precedent.

With Epilogue by Emmanuel Mauleon

Notwithstanding the broad literature on race and constitutional criminal procedure, scholars have rarely engaged the epistemological burdens Fourth Amendment law imposes on Black students and faculty. Those burdens derive from a fundamental and insufficiently acknowledged disjuncture: despite the rights-protecting language in the Fourth Amendment (in particular, its prohibition against “unreasonable searches and seizures”), Fourth Amendment law is, for Black people, a domain of existential violence. It is Fourth Amendment law that determines when and how the police may engage us in our homes, in our cars, at school, and on our streets— and it is Fourth Amendment law that produces and governs the anti-Black border between surveillance and death. This fraught and necrological feature of Fourth Amendment law sets the doctrinal terms on which Black students must learn, and Black faculty must teach, the law. In that regard, the violence Black people encounter in the context of engaging with Fourth Amendment jurisprudence is against the very Black body they occupy. This Article describes that normalized epistemological environment. One might think of the account the Article provides as a pedagogy of the Black body, or more precisely, as an articulation of what the Black body can teach us about the racialized “field of pain and death” Fourth Amendment law produces. That field includes a constitutional archive that requires Black people to learn and teach law through our legally sanctioned disposability. Fourth Amendment law is thus not merely violent in its social effects; it is epistemologically violent—and legal pedagogy is one of the sites where that violence is reproduced.

In Bondi v. VanDerStok, the Supreme Court issued a consequential decision for statutory interpretation. Drawing on law-and-linguistics research, it infused new empiricism into the search for word meanings, introducing a method this Article labels “Linguistic Textualism.” It is incumbent upon the legal community to reckon with Linguistic Textualism, the Article asserts—because if VanDerStok is the future of statutory interpretation, we are in some trouble.

To make that argument, the Article first diagnoses the pathologies of Linguistic Textualism. It chronicles multiple artificial constraints that Linguistic Textualism imposes upon interpreters, including a striking tendency to erase the historical evolution of a statute. This can undermine interpretation of amended statutes, in particular, which now dominate the Court’s docket. Attempting to do better, the Article then develops a competing interpretation of the statute from VanDerStok. Through an increased attention to amendment history, the Article uncovers the untold story of the Gun Control Act of 1968. In so doing, it provides a vivid illustration of why courts should be attentive to the rich, layered nature of statutory law—and it gives a methodological template for how to accomplish that goal.

The result is a comparative interpretive project with numerous insights—both doctrinal and theoretical. It provides a new understanding of the GCA, a statute whose unresolved questions will shape the future of gun control in America. The Article reveals the shortcomings of Linguistic Textualism, an interpretive approach only increasing in prevalence. The Article develops new tools and strategies to better interpret amended statutes—including a proposed “dead-hand canon,” which can resolve the inconsistencies that amendments often produce. And the Article outlines a new principle for assessing interpretive methods—one that offers a useful baseline for interpretive debates. Through these many lessons, the Article aims to help transform VanDerStok into a productive moment for statutory interpretation.

The U.S. Supreme Court is experiencing a visual boom. In a break from its text-based tradition, the Court is increasingly incorporating images directly into its opinions. In the past fifteen years, pictures of prison dormitories, prayer circles, and stolen artwork have graced the pages of the U.S. Reports. Recently, the Court’s visual vocabulary has grown to include a 150-year-old political cartoon, fifty-nine license plate designs, and a series of gun diagrams alongside a gif. Even more, in just the last five years, visuals have started appearing more frequently in the main body of opinions rather than being relegated to appendices.

While this rise in “visual opinions” may seem inevitable in today’s visual age, it raises significant questions about the foundations of judicial authority and the nature of judicial reasoning. But while scholars have extensively analyzed visual advocacy by lawyers, the Court’s own embrace of visual rhetoric—and its implications for the Court and the institution of judicial decisionmaking—has received surprisingly little attention.

This Article explores the Court’s visual practices and their implications for judicial legitimacy. It makes three key contributions. First, drawing on a review of over 400 visual opinions, it provides the first account of the Court’s use of images from the Founding to the present. It finds that while the Court’s use of visuals has accelerated in recent years, its use of visual content finds deep and expansive roots in the nineteenth century. Second, it connects the Court’s visual practices to legitimacy theory, analyzing how visuals reshape the Court’s performance as a principled decisionmaker, impartial decider, and public servant. Visual content can enhance judicial reasoning by clarifying complex concepts and connecting abstract law to concrete reality. But it can also undermine core legitimacy values by compromising analytical rigor, embedding hidden biases, and transforming legal discourse into political performance.

Third, this Article advances a counterintuitive recommendation. If a picture is worth a thousand words, judges may need to write a thousand “more” words when they include pictures. Because visuals invite multiple interpretations and can overwhelm legal reasoning, courts should consider providing enhanced justification when they use images. Rather than letting visuals “speak for themselves,” judges must explicitly explain their relevance, anticipate competing interpretations, and directly confront visual counternarratives. Visual opinions require more explanation, not less.

Should linguistics inform textualism? When legal theories make claims about another discipline’s subject, that discipline is often illuminating: History impacts originalist debates, economics shapes “law and economics” analysis, and psychology imbues behavioral legal studies. Linguistic claims abound in textualist decisions and debates, but linguistics—the scientific study of human language—less often informs these. Now, critics question whether it should.

This Essay defends the relevance of the field of linguistics to the theory, practice, and critique of textualism. We offer examples, including the Supreme Court’s 2025 VanDerStok decision. Our argument implies neither that textualism is the correct interpretive theory nor that linguistics invariably bolsters it. Indeed, linguistics often challenges textualist assumptions and conclusions. The Essay’s claim is simply that for both textualists and their critics, considering—rather than eschewing—linguistics makes discussion more sophisticated and productive.

American constitutional development has long followed cycles of crisis and restoration, resisting linear narratives of progress. This pattern is especially evident in the interplay between Black protest movements and constitutional interpretation, where transformative possibilities emerge during periods of social rupture but are later constrained by institutional restoration. This Essay argues that W.E.B. Du Bois’s 1920 speculative fiction, The Comet, offers a framework for understanding these cyclical dynamics. The short story’s three-part structure—normalcy, rupture, and restoration—reveals how genuine equality surfaces during catastrophic disruption yet proves unsustainable once hierarchical “normalcy” returns. Using interdisciplinary analysis that combines legal theory, historical inquiry, and literary criticism, this Essay traces “comet cycles” within major Black protest movements from abolition to contemporary struggles. It demonstrates that literary imagination can illuminate constitutional dynamics that conventional doctrinal analysis cannot reach.

Specifically, this Essay argues that Black protest movements function both as catalysts of constitutional rupture and as interpreters of constitutional possibility during suspended moments of normalcy. Examining the abolitionist era, the Civil Rights movement, and present-day struggles through Du Bois’s framework highlights how social movements advance foundational promises of liberty and equality while revealing the fragility of constitutional gains. Even radical critiques of constitutional legitimacy often arise because movements have taken these promises seriously, exposing the inadequacy of conventional reform. This approach offers strategic insight for contemporary movements, clarifying when transformative possibilities emerge and how restoration dynamics undermine them. By centering Black lived experiences as integral to constitutional interpretation, this Essay reframes American constitutionalism as shaped fundamentally by those historically excluded from legal discourse, yet central to its most transformative moments.

This Article traces the emergence of text-centric theories of legal interpretation in the early nineteenth century amid an increasingly writing-based legal culture. While many scholars and judges associate textualism with the Founding period’s enactment of written constitutions and innovation in the separation of powers, this Article argues that the first “textualist” turn in legal interpretation crystallized after the Founding and reflected transnational developments. Not until the 1830s through 1850s did certain jurists on both sides of the Atlantic elaborate interpretive theories predicated on understanding a written law as an ordinary linguistic communication, as opposed to being in part declaratory of unwritten principles. This new emphasis on the enacted text reflected the increasingly writing-based legal culture of the early nineteenth century enabled by the industrial revolution in print and communication technologies. Amid this technological change, old textualists believed they were bringing the equivalent of modern steam power to legal interpretation.

Indeed, it was their work from the 1830s through 1850s, not the Founding, that Justice Scalia cited as muses for his project to revive a text-centric “science” of legal interpretation. Scalia’s new textualism, however, differed from old textualism. New textualism emphasizes the public legibility of the enacted text and how that public legibility operates to constrain judicial discretion. Old textualism, by contrast, understood law as a largely technical language and instead promoted a vision of legal interpretation that advanced public ends through non-public means. Old textualists ultimately sought to claim interpretation as the expertise of judges and to reassure skeptics that judges could exercise this expertise objectively—laying groundwork for the rise of judicial supremacy that would follow.

Over the last few decades, uniform rules have come to govern only a fraction of cases in state courts. Instead, pleading standards vary by case type, discovery limits hinge on amount in controversy, and rules flex based on party type, representation status, and other factors. Quietly, tailored procedures have come to dominate state court civil litigation, impacting millions of cases each year—from consumer debt to personal injury to complex commercial.

This Article analyzes the rise of tailored procedures in state courts and the implications for access to justice, separation of powers, and court legitimacy. Through a case study of Arizona’s procedural evolution that draws on an original dataset of over 6,600 administrative and rulemaking orders, I trace how such tailoring developed, create a typology that can serve as a menu of design options for courts, and evaluate tailoring’s tradeoffs. Without transsubstantivity as a rulemaking backstop in state courts, I also propose three new safeguards to ensure that tailored rules maximize benefits and minimize harms: proportional design, reason-giving, and iterative review.

Tailoring, however, is about more than just gains and losses in fairness or accuracy. It is about a profound shift in who makes procedure and the goals it might achieve. As state courts have centralized authority and expanded their use of tailoring, they have displaced local rulemaking and narrowed judicial discretion. As rulemakers have grown more ambitious, they have expanded the values that procedure has traditionally advanced. These shifts raise important questions about who should make what procedure, the relationship between procedure and substance, and the role of courts in society.