Articles

Supreme Court opinions involving race and the jury invariably open with the Fourteenth Amendment, the Civil Rights Act of 1875, or landmark cases like Strauder v. West Virginia (1880). Legal scholars and historians unanimously report that free people of color did not serve as jurors, in either the North or South, until 1860. In fact, this Article shows that Black men served as jurors in antebellum America decades earlier than anyone has previously realized. While instances of early Black jury service were rare, campaigns insisting upon Black citizens’ admission to the jury-box were not. From the late 1830s onward, Black activists across the country organized to abolish the all-white jury. They faced, and occasionally overcame, staunch resistance. This Article uses jury lists, court records, convention minutes, diaries, bills of sale, tax rolls, and other overlooked primary sources to recover these forgotten efforts, led by activists who understood the jury-box to be both a marker and maker of citizenship.

The most common form of vicarious liability subjects an employer (or principal) to liability for the torts an employee (agent) commits within the scope of employment. Under the motive test, an employee’s tortious misconduct is outside the scope of employment when wholly motivated by personal reasons—a rule that almost invariably prevents the victims of sexual assaults from recovering against the employer, regardless of whether the employment relationship created the conditions that enabled the employee’s wrongdoing. A few alternative approaches have reformulated vicarious liability to overcome the limitations of the motive test, which is based on agency law, but each one has largely foundered. The motive test rules the land.

Neither courts nor commentators have adequately considered whether vicarious liability can be reformulated in terms of basic tort doctrine independently of agency law. As a matter of established tort principles, the scope of vicarious liability is limited to the injuries caused by a tortious risk—one which the employment relationship foreseeably created. The tort formulation recognizes that the employment relationship creates a foreseeable risk that employees will be careless or overzealous and can commit torts while motivated to serve the employer, even if the employer did not authorize the tortious misconduct. When an employee’s unauthorized tortious behavior is motivated solely by personal reasons, it would still be foreseeable and within the employer’s scope of vicarious liability if the employment relationship elevated the foreseeable risk of such misconduct over the background level of risk that exists outside of the workplace. Sexual assaults can accordingly be foreseeable within certain types of employment settings, subjecting the employer to vicarious liability as a matter of basic tort doctrine.

The problem of sexual assaults in the workplace shows why the tort formulation
of vicarious liability relies on a more realistic account of employee behavior as
compared to its agency counterpart, which cannot persuasively explain why vicarious
liability applies to any form of employee behavior the employer did not authorize.
Vicarious liability is best formulated as a doctrine of tort law, not as a component of
agency law with its question-begging treatment of motive in the workplace.

This Article surveys how a growing rivalry between the United States and China is changing the American legal system. It argues that U.S.-China conflict is reproducing, in attenuated form, the same politics of threat that has driven wartime legal development for much of our history. The result is that American law is reprising familiar patterns and pathologies. There has been a diminishment in rights among groups with imputed ties to a geopolitical adversary. But there has also been a modest expansion in rights where advocates have linked desired reforms with geopolitical goals. Institutionally, the new global conflict has at times fostered executive overreach, interbranch agreement, and interparty consensus. Legal-culturally, it has in places evinced a decline in legal rationality. Although these developments do not rival the excesses of America’s wartime past, they evoke that past and may, over time, replay it. The Article provides a framework for understanding legal developments in this new era, contributes to our understanding of rights and structure in times of conflict, and reflects on what comes next in the new global conflict, and how best to shape it.

This Article demonstrates for the first time how civil servants check and restrain presidential power through collective bargaining. The executive branch is typically depicted as a top-down hierarchy. The President, as chief executive, issues policy directives, and the tenured bureaucracy of civil servants below him follow them. This presumed top-down structure shapes many influential critiques of the modern administrative state. Proponents of a strong President decry civil servants as an unelected “deep state” usurping popular will. Skeptics of presidential power fear the growth of an imperial presidency, held in check by an impartial bureaucracy.

Federal sector labor rights, which play an increasingly central role in structuring the modern executive branch, complicate each of these critiques. Under federal law, civil servants have the right to enter into binding contracts with administrative agencies governing the conditions of their employment. These agreements restrain and reshape the President’s power to manage the federal bureaucracy and impact nearly every area of executive branch policymaking, from how administrative law judges decide cases to how immigration agents and prison guards enforce federal law. Bureaucratic power arrangements are neither imposed from above by an “imperial” presidency nor subverted from below by an “unaccountable” bureaucracy. Rather, the President and the civil service bargain over the contours of executive authority and litigate their disputes before arbitrators and courts. Bargaining thus encourages a form of government-wide civil servant “resistance” that is legalistic rather than lawless, and highly structured and transparent rather than opaque and inchoate.

Despite the increasingly intense judicial and scholarly battles over the administrative state and its legitimacy, civil servant labor rights have gone largely unnoticed and unstudied. This Article shows for the first time how these labor rights restructure and legitimize the modern executive branch. First, using a novel dataset of almost 1,000 contract disputes spanning forty years, as well as in-depth case studies of multiple agencies, it documents the myriad ways in which collective bargaining reshapes bureaucratic relationships within the executive branch. Second, this Article draws on primary source material and academic literature to illuminate the history and theoretical foundations of bargaining as a basis for bureaucratic government. What emerges from this history is a picture of modern bureaucracy that is more mutualistic, legally ordered, and politically responsive than modern observers appreciate.

We document and discuss the implications of a striking feature of modern American policing: the stasis of police labor forces. Using an original employment dataset assembled through public records requests, we show that, after the first few years on a job, officers rarely change employers, and intermediate officer ranks are filled almost exclusively through promotion rather than lateral hiring. Policing is like a sports league, if you removed trades and free agency and left only the draft in place.

We identify both nonlegal and legal causes of this phenomenon—ranging from geographic monopolies to statutory and collectively bargained rules about pensions, rank, and seniority—and discuss its normative implications. On the one hand, job stability may encourage investment in training and expertise by agencies and officers alike; it may also attract some high-quality candidates, including candidates from underrepresented backgrounds, to the profession. On the other hand, low labor mobility can foster sclerosis in police departments, entrenching old ways of policing. Limited outside options may lead officers to stay in positions that suit them poorly, decreasing morale and productivity and potentially contributing to the scale of policing harms. In turn, the lack of labor mobility makes it all the more important to police officers to retain the jobs they have. This encourages them to insist on extensive labor protections and to enforce norms like the “blue wall of silence,” which exacerbate the problem of police misconduct. We suggest reforms designed to confer the advantages of labor mobility while ameliorating its costs.

Although legal scholars have over the years developed an increasingly sophisticated account of policing in the largest cities, they have largely overlooked the thousands of small departments that serve rural areas and small towns. As this Article makes clear, small departments are hardly immune from the various problems that plague modern policing. But their sheer number—and relative obscurity—has made it difficult to get a handle on the magnitude of the difficulties they present, or the ways in which familiar reform proposals might need to look different in America’s small towns.

This Article begins to fill this gap. It does so by blending together empirical analysis of various dimensions of small-agency policing, with in-depth case studies that add much-needed texture to the patterns that the data reveal. It argues that the problems of small-town and rural policing differ in important ways from those that plague big-city police, and that there are predictable patterns that explain when and why small agencies are likely to go astray. In particular, it shows that small agencies are susceptible to two types of systemic failures—those that reflect the inherent limitations of small-town political processes and those that are driven by the capacity constraints that some small governments face. It then draws on the data and case studies to provide a preliminary sense of how prevalent these problems are likely to be.

This Article concludes with the policy implications that follow from this richer and more nuanced account of small-town and rural police. It begins with the oft- made suggestion that small agencies be made to “consolidate” with one another or simply dissolve, and it explains why consolidation is not only highly unlikely, but also potentially counter-productive. It argues that states should instead pursue two parallel sets of reforms, the first aimed at equalizing the dramatic disparities in police funding across municipalities, and the second focused on a set of regulatory measures designed to address specific small agency harms.

Today’s Supreme Court is committed to originalism—the idea that the Constitution’s meaning is fixed at ratification. But it often rests decisions on the post-ratification practices of other actors—Presidents, Congresses, or states. Call this method “living traditionalism”: “traditionalist” because it looks to political traditions, and “living” because the traditions postdate ratification. The method is ubiquitous but undertheorized, in part because its distinctness from “liquidation”—a variant of traditionalism that is indeed consistent with originalism, but that rarely drives any cases—has not been understood.

This Article offers the first comprehensive analysis of the Court’s living traditionalism, which includes scores of cases spanning every subject and Justices of every stripe. Next, the Article identifies a fundamental but previously unrecognized tension in the method itself: If the Court gives living-traditionalist cases full weight as precedent, it defeats the reasons for using the method at all. Put another way, it is incoherent to treat political practices as a ratchet: capable of moving law in one direction (e.g., against a right in 2022) but not the other (in favor of the right later on). Yet the Court is at risk of doing that, making constitutional law turn on accidents of history: whatever practices happened to exist when the Court first addressed an issue. Finally, the Article proposes solutions to this predicament. Where the Court does not simply retreat from living traditionalism, it should write living-traditionalist rulings so that they expire when practices change, or else modify stare decisis to make these cases easier to overturn. These solutions would have to be paired with a resolve on the part of political actors to manifest any rejection of practice-based holdings in ways that courts could heed when the issue next arose in litigation. I review several “hard” and “soft” law means of doing so that the case law itself invests with constitutional significance. By these means, politics could shape sundry individual-rights and separation-of-powers doctrines. Absent such reforms, the Court’s application of living traditionalism will prove increasingly at odds with the democratic and other rationales for using the method at all.

The Supreme Court’s new religious liberty jurisprudence has dramatically expanded the circumstances in which religious objectors can claim exemption from general legislative enactments. Thus far, most of the claimants who’ve taken advantage of these doctrinal innovations have been conservative Christians seeking to avoid liberal policy initiatives (on matters like COVID-19 restrictions, vaccines, or LGBTQ inclusion). This emerging jurisprudence, as well as the rhetoric from legal and political elites regarding religious liberty, has generally acceded to the conflation of religiosity with conservatism. Liberal Jews challenge this conflation, as they offer an example of a religious community whose spiritual commitments tend to align with progressive rather than conservative politics.

Nominally, the new religious liberty doctrine should also provide protections to more liberal Jewish denominations that may seek relief from conservative statutory enactments, such as restrictive abortion laws following Dobbs. Assuming that this outcome is undesirable for conservative legal elites, the question for them becomes how to justify locking liberal Jews out while ensuring conservative Christians remain protected. To this end, jurists may find tempting a modern version of Christian supersessionism—the claimed entitlement of Christians to authoritatively declare who and what truly counts as Jewish. An ascendent form of antisemitism, increasingly mainstream in conservative political circles, insists that authentic Judaism is only that which is compatible with conservative Christian commitments, and so seeks to delegitimize liberal Jews (which is to say, most Jews) as not counting as actual Jews. Where this delegitimization is successful, seemingly blatant exclusion, marginalization, or hatred of (most) Jews can be removed from the ambit of religious liberty or antisemitism, since the targets are not recognized as religious Jews in the first place, and so cannot claim access to the expansive protections given to religious practitioners.

Using a series of surveys and experiments, we find that ordinary people think that courts will give them exactly what they bargained for after breach of contract; in other words, specific performance is the expected contractual remedy. This expectation is widespread even for the diverse array of deals where the legal remedy is traditionally limited to money damages. But for a significant fraction of people, the focus on
equity seems to be a naïve belief that is open to updating. In the studies reported here, individuals were less likely to anticipate specific performance when they were briefly introduced to the possibility that courts sometimes award damages in contract disputes.

We argue that the default expectation of equitable relief is a widespread but malleable intuition—and that even a fragile legal intuition has practical consequences, individually and systemically. In a follow-up experiment, we show that subjects are more interested in the prospect of efficient breach when they know
that money damages are a possible remedy. This finding suggests that the mismatch between what people assume the law will do (specific performance) and what it actually does (money damages) sometimes encourages performance. We consider the potential for exploitation of this tendency. Finally, we offer some suggestions about how scholars of law and psychology should elicit folk beliefs about legal rules and remedies.

In 2020, the United States Supreme Court held that the Religious Freedom Restoration Act (RFRA) allows for claims for money damages against federal officials who substantially burden a person’s free exercise rights. As federal courts now grapple with these claims for damages, federal prison officials defending RFRA claims have turned to a trusty and time-honored defense: qualified immunity. In recent years, however, qualified immunity has come under increasing attack from judicial, scholarly, and popular sources, and the rationale underlying qualified immunity doctrine cannot withstand the kind of textual analysis that the Supreme Court used when announcing that the RFRA statute allowed for damages. Using the Supreme Court’s rationale, the text and doctrine of RFRA, and the long-articulated criticisms of qualified immunity, this Article argues that qualified immunity should not be an available defense to statutory claims asserted against federal prison officials.

In formulating this argument, the Article makes three primary contributions. First, it explains the importance of RFRA and its attendant religious rights protections to the more than 150,000 people confined by the federal government in the nation’s prisons. Second, it demonstrates how the defense of qualified immunity is incongruent to the statute’s text, history, and purpose. And, finally, it is the first article to analyze how the qualified immunity defense becomes unworkable when it is applied to the doctrine governing claims brought under the statute. Overall, by focusing on the narrow class of RFRA claims, the Article joins the chorus of commentators urging the federal courts to reconsider the knee-jerk application of qualified immunity to claims involving fundamental rights.