Volume 96, Number 6

Tom Stoddard–though more famous as a civil libertarian and gay rights advocate–was first and last a teacher. His brother John Stoddard remembers Tom, as a small child in the early 1950s, making John “learn all the capitals of all the states and of every country in the world. He knew them, and he wanted me to know them, too.” And only days before Professor Stoddard, at 48, succumbed to HIV disease, he submitted grades for his “Legislation” course. Despite the sudden physical decline that forced him to cancel class sessions before the end of the semester, he marked papers and exams at the hospital and then from his sickbed at home.

The Greeks had a saying, “The good die young.” Rarely has this been as true as with Tom Stoddard, who in the short years given to him made an indelible mark as a hero in the struggle for the rights of lesbians and gay men. He did it all–courtroom advocate, legislative counsel for the New York Civil Liberties Union, head of Lambda Legal Defense Fund, and a colleague who taught (at New York University) one of the first courses given in any American law school centering on legal issues surrounding homosexuality. Tom will be remembered for many things, but mainly for his success, as the New York Times recognized when he died, in “bring[ing] issues affecting gay men and lesbians into the mainstream of legal and political debate.”

It has become something of a conventional wisdom over the past decade to assert that there is no necessary tension between the aims of civil liberties and public health. Like all such wisdoms, although often true, there are occasions when bitterly contested battles make it clear that the picture is far more complex than the world as defined by mantras. Too often lost in the debate over claims about the salutary or baleful impact of the civil libertarian perspective on public health is some understanding of how that outlook emerged, took hold, and then achieved some currency. It is a history that can teach us much. And it is there that Tom Stoddard played a central role, for he helped to shape a rights-sensitive conception of public health.

The last decade has seen renewed debate, much of it between feminists, about workplace and school regulation of sexual conduct. Those debates proceed on the assumption that institutions distinguish permissible sex from impermissible sex based on whether it is consensual or, in civil rights parlance, “welcome.” The person at greatest risk of punishment by an employer or school, it would then appear, is the heterosexual man who seeks sex with women and who, allegedly, transgresses the bounds of their consent. This story, though, is incomplete. Workplaces and schools have long punished workers and students for having sex that is indisputably consensual but nonetheless undesirable to the institution. This sanctioned conduct includes premarital sex, commercial sex, “kinky” sex, sex with colleagues, and sex on work or school premises. And case law and public accounts suggest those punished for at least some of these offenses disproportionately include women, girls, and queer people, some of whom have filed sex discrimination lawsuits.

This Article argues that both litigants and critics would benefit from situating these modes of punishment within the broader regime of gendered sexual regulation by workplaces and schools. For litigants, that context may open new doctrinal pathways to challenge sanctions for consensual sex under sex discrimination laws. It illuminates, for example, that the reasons defendants give to defend the punishments they levy—essentially, that they object to plaintiffs’ conduct, in putative contrast to their protected characteristics—are sometimes themselves discriminatory. And for critics of institutional sexual regulation, consideration of these forms of punishment would serve a clarifying and corrective function, promoting a more accurate vision of gendered power and highlighting nuance in the relationship between sex equality and punishment.

This Article frames the problem of capital taxation as a dilemma of the middle of history. At the “beginning of history”—before any wealth inequality has emerged and before individuals have made any saving choices—the much-cited Atkinson-Stiglitz theorem teaches that the optimal capital tax is zero. At the “end of history”—after individuals have made all of their saving choices—the optimal capital tax is generally agreed to be 100%, since a capital tax today cannot distort decisions made in the past. Neither result tells us how to proceed in the “middle of history”—after significant wealth inequality has emerged but while the shadow of the future still looms large. Yet absent an imminent apocalypse, the “middle of history” is the temporal reality with which our tax policies must contend.

The central question for capital taxation in the middle of history is how governments today can respond to accumulated inequalities while credibly committing to future tax trajectories. This Article focuses on three factors—institutions, inequality, and ideas—that mediate the relationship between past and present policy and expectations of future policy. Exploring these three mediating factors in deep detail can enrich our positive understanding of capital taxation’s real-world effects while refining our normative views about optimal capital tax design. Economic reasoning proves useful to this inquiry, but the Article also emphasizes the importance of integrating perspectives from history, political science, sociology, and—not least—law into a holistic account of capital taxation and credible commitment.

The analytical payoffs from such an approach are far-reaching. For example, a middle-of-history perspective complicates the conventional wisdom regarding the relationship between capital taxation and investment incentives: Capital tax cuts—which are typically thought to incentivize investment—may have the reverse effect when they undermine public confidence in the political stability of a low-capital-tax regime. Beyond the implications for tax, a middle-of-history perspective can yield lessons for—and derive lessons from—fields ranging from criminal justice to intellectual property, which face credible commitment problems comparable to tax’s dilemma. The challenge of sustaining credible commitment when policymakers’ incentives are time inconsistent is not just a problem of capital taxation in the middle of history but a more general problem of law in the middle of history.

The American carceral state has grown exponentially over the last six decades, earning the United States a place of notoriety among the world’s leaders in incarceration. That unprecedented growth has been fueled by a cultural addiction to carceral logic and its tools—police, prosecution, jails, prisons, and punishment—as a one-size-fits- all response to the myriad vectors of socioeconomic disadvantage that drive people into the jaws of the criminal legal system. The system operates in the shadow of endemic racial inequality, feeding on the conflated amalgam of race, criminality, and dangerousness. For those who experience the worst of what the system has to offer, it is little more than a purveyor of harm and injustice, deepening the inequality that characterizes America.

The modern public defender was born before the rise of mass incarceration and criminalization and has evolved ever since, from helpmate to the criminal system to a zealous advocate for the accused. The last major evolutionary turn transformed public defenders into a bulwark against America’s penal impulses, defending people against the state while working holistically to address the range of legal and social needs that drive criminal legal system involvement. Recent years have witnessed a growing willingness to grapple with abolition as a strategy and vision, and with it an increasing recognition that being a bulwark—while an essential feature of public defense—is simply not enough to upend the status quo. In this Article, I contend that public defense can and should embrace an abolitionist ethic. I do so because I believe that an abolitionist ethic orients the work of public defenders more pointedly at the interlocking structural causes that lead people into the clutches of the criminal system, and it directs sustained energy at its oppressive nature, ultimately benefitting the people and the communities that public defenders serve.

What does an abolitionist ethic mean for a public defender? Fundamentally, it is a merger of retail-scale zealous criminal defense with wholesale structural change aimed at dismantling the criminal system. Beyond that, it means building a world in which police, jails, and prisons are obsolete. And it employs frameworks and advocacy tools that are accessible to public defense. A public defender’s abolitionist ethic combines a racial justice lens informed by Critical Race Theory to understand the forces that animate the criminal system; zealous holistic defense of individuals infused with the spirit of resistance lawyering; movement lawyering to support social justice advocacy aimed at reducing the size, scope, and scale of the system on the way to dismantling it; and organized efforts to render the carceral state dispensable.

Shifting the paradigm of public defense and the work of public defenders is no easy task. Indeed, it is laden with challenges. Inadequate funding, the skepticism that travels with abolition, the sheer difficulty of criminal defense work, and the seemingly intractable nature of the criminal system can make the turn to an abolitionist ethic seem like a fruitless pursuit. For the public defender, those challenges cannot be the end of the story. The lessons that flow from the centuries-long struggle for racial justice, where abolition was born, teach us that—as organizer and activist Mariame Kaba says—“hope is a discipline.” By nature, public defense work rests on that discipline. Defenders fight against long odds in an unforgiving system. They do so for a host of reasons, among them the hope that what they do will make a difference in the broader fight for the dignity and humanity of those they represent. Defenders must draw on that same sensibility in pursuit of the world that those whom they defend—and all of us—deserve.

A coming wave of general-purpose technologies, including artificial intelligence (“AI”), robotics, quantum computing, synthetic biology, energy expansion, and nanotechnology, is likely to fundamentally reshape the economy and erode the assumptions on which the antitrust order is predicated. First, AI-driven systems will vastly improve firms’ ability to detect (and even program) consumer preferences without the benefit of price signals, which will undermine the traditional information-producing benefit of competitive markets. Similarly, these systems will be able to determine comparative producer efficiency without relying on competitive signals. Second, AI systems will invert the salient characteristics of human managers, whose intentions are opaque but actions discernible. An AI’s “intentions”—its programmed objective functions—are easily discernible, but its actions or processing steps are a black box. Third, the near-infinite scalability of the technologies in the coming wave will likely result in extreme market concentration, with a few megafirms dominating. Finally, AI and related productive systems will be able to avoid traditional prohibitions on both collusion and exclusion, with the consequence that antitrust law’s core prohibitions will become ineffective. The cumulative effect of these tendencies of the coming wave likely will be to retire the economic order based on mandated competition. As in past cases of natural monopoly, some form of regulation will probably replace antitrust, but the forms of regulation are likely to look quite different. Rather than attempting to set a regulated firm’s prices by determining its costs and revenues, the regulatory future is more likely to involve direct regulation of an AI’s objective functions, for example by directing the AI to maximize social welfare and allocate the surplus created among different stakeholders of the firm.

Family law conventionally treats parenthood as binary: A child has two, and only two, parents. These two parents possess all parental rights and responsibilities, which cannot be shared with others. Their status as parents remains fixed throughout the child’s life.

Today, legislatures are explicitly challenging this view. Ten jurisdictions now have multiparent statutes, i.e., laws that authorize courts to recognize more than two legal parents. Commentators tend to view this development as a radical change in the law intended to accommodate radical new family forms produced by assisted reproduction, LGBTQ family formation, and polyamory. But the accuracy of these assumptions—about the ways in which these statutes represent a break from the past and the types of families they capture—has remained unexamined.

This Article is the first to do so through an empirical study. Analyzing all publicly available judicial decisions issued pursuant to multiparent statutes, we show that the families they accommodate are not novel and rare family arrangements involving planned and well-resourced LGBTQ parents, but instead more familiar and common ones, emerging out of re-partnering and caregiving by extended family members and often resulting from challenges related to poverty. We also show that extending parental rights to more than two people is a longstanding practice in family law. Drawing on a second dataset consisting of all publicly available judicial decisions applying a functional parent doctrine over four decades, we find that courts long have accommodated multiparent families. For decades, courts have authorized the sharing of parental rights and responsibilities across more than two individuals, often recognizing people who come into children’s lives long after their birth.

Our empirical study of multiparent recognition challenges conventional assumptions about the life and law of parenthood itself. Families commonly construct parent-child relationships in ways that are nonbinary—sharing parental rights with more than one other person and altering a child’s parental unit over time. For their part, courts too have resisted a view of parenthood as binary. They have recognized that many children have more than two parents; that parental rights and responsibilities can be unbundled and shared; and that a child’s parents may change over time.

Our empirical account also suggests that many of the concerns raised about multiparent recognition are inapposite or overstated. Imagining a planned multiparent family with three involved parents, commentators worry that laws allowing multiparent recognition will produce bitter custody litigation, complicated tri-custody orders, and ongoing conflict with three parents sharing legal rights and responsibilities. Yet, across both datasets, the children rarely have three parents assuming parental respon- sibilities. Legal recognition of more than two parents typically promotes security and stability for children, not by protecting relationships with multiple involved parents, but instead—and counterintuitively—by protecting children’s primary parental rela- tionship. Accordingly, our study leads us to be less concerned with too much multiparent recognition and instead to be more concerned with too little multiparent recognition.

First Amendment law is heavily influenced by a familiar set of policy considerations. Courts often defend their First Amendment rulings by referencing speech’s place within a “marketplace of ideas.” They consider whether speech facilitates self- governance or furthers society’s search for truth. They weigh the relative value of certain types of speech. And so on.

The Supreme Court has used these policy arguments to resolve and craft rules for many free speech dilemmas. But in some situations, existing policy arguments have generated rules and rulings that are incoherent, ineffective, or insufficient to address the underlying free speech problem. In this Article, we propose a new policy approach to aid courts in these situations. Specifically, we argue that in addition to traditional policy arguments, courts could and should use constitutive rhetorical theory when addressing and resolving today’s novel free speech dilemmas. Constitutive rhetorical theory views language as a process of meaning-making and culture building. It does not treat language only as a tool for persuasion or communication but instead emphasizes the ways language assigns value, creates communities, forges shared identities, and mediates human experiences. In this Article, we suggest that courts and legislatures should use constitutive rhetorical theory to supplement their traditional policy considerations. If judges take seriously the idea that language creates, rather than simply communicates, they might choose to restrict or protect speech not only because of its message or persuasive effects but also because of its constitutive, creative potential.

Our argument proceeds in four parts. In Part I, we review existing First Amendment policy arguments and describe their rhetorical underpinnings. We then present constitutive rhetorical theory as an alternative approach. In Part II, we discuss several contexts where the Court has hinted at, though not explicitly adopted, a constitutive rhetorical approach. In Part III, we apply a constitutive rhetorical lens to three First Amendment problems—hate speech, fighting words, and nonconsensual pornography—to show how the constitutive model might clarify or improve the law in those areas. In Part IV, we discuss the implications and limitations of our argument.

For over two hundred years of Supreme Court doctrine, judges and scholars have tried to figure out how the Court’s rulings impact ordinary citizens. Yet the answers often seem to depend on whose opinion or even which press releases you read. How can we actually measure the consequences of constitutional decisions?

This Article provides a new methodological inroad to this thicket—one which triangulates a nationwide field experiment, a longitudinal public opinion survey, and litigation-outcome analysis. We do so while focusing on a recent set of developments at the intersection of religious freedom and anti-discrimination law that transpired in Fulton v. City of Philadelphia (2021).

We find that Supreme Court decisions can have substantial behavioral and legal effects beyond a seemingly narrow holding. In Fulton, the Court avoided deciding the equality-religion conflict at the heart of the case for a fact-specific decision that should have been easy to circumvent. Yet our results suggest that the Court’s audience focused on the bottom-line message of the decision rather than the holding. Across the nation, foster care agencies became less responsive to same-sex couples. The public became more supportive of religious service refusals. And courts and litigants resolved all open disputes between equality-seeking governments and refusing religious agencies in favor of the agencies.

Our findings contribute to the development of an empirical approach to constitutional doctrine. Constitutional questions often require determining whether the harm to, or burden on, an individual or group is justified by a compelling state interest— and whether the means are narrowly tailored to that end. These tests often hinge on evidence, yet the Court rarely offers parties guidelines for substantiating their interests at the right level of precision. Our work provides both data and empirical tools that inform the application of this test in the realm of free exercise doctrine, equality law, and beyond.

Nuisance is once again a hot topic in legal practice and scholarship. Public nuisance law is at the center of efforts to hold product manufacturers, energy companies, and internet platforms liable for billions in losses. Scholars have in turn offered competing accounts of the legitimacy and scope of this form of liability. Meanwhile, private nuisance has been the subject of renewed academic attention, including the issuance of new Restatement provisions, that aim to make sense of its distinctive features. Unfortunately, to date, these two lines of inquiry have mostly been pursued in isolation, a pattern that reflects the prevailing wisdom (famously articulated by William Prosser and others) that the two nuisances share nothing beyond a common name. To the contrary, this Article maintains that the key to practical and theoretical progress in this complex area of law is to appreciate that the two nuisances are variants of the same general concept. As variants, they do indeed differ: a private nuisance is a wrong involving the violation of another’s right to use and enjoy their property, whereas public nuisance in the first instance does not turn on the violation of private property rights. And yet both nuisances involve wrongful interferences with others’ access to, or use of, physical spaces or resources. By attending to and appreciating this common core, lawyers, judges, and scholars will be better positioned to develop nuisance law in a consistent and principled manner.

We like to think that courts are, and have always been, the primary and final interpreters of statutes. As the conventional separation-of-powers wisdom goes, legislatures “make” statutes while judges “interpret” them. In fact, however, legislatures across centuries of American history have thought of themselves as the primary interpreters. They blurred the line between “making” and “interpreting” by embracing a type of legislation that remains overlooked and little understood: “expository” legislation—enactments that specifically interpreted or construed previous enactments.

In the most exhaustive historical study of the subject to date, this Article—the first in a series of Articles—unearths and explains that lost tradition of legislative statutory interpretation from an institutional perspective. To do so, it draws on an original dataset of 2,497 pieces of expository legislation passed from 1665 to 2020 at the colonial, territorial, state, and federal levels—the first effort of its kind. It shows how expository legislation originated as a colonial-era British import that Americans came to rely on beyond the creation of new constitutions. Lawmakers used expository statutes to supervise administrative statutory interpretation and to negotiate interpretation in the shadows of courts. Judges accepted and even encouraged legislative statutory interpretation. In the mid-nineteenth century, judges increasingly fought back, emboldened by growing calls for judicial independence. Yet even as the backlash entered into treatises, and even as some lawmakers began to balk, legislatures and judges continued to accept and use legislative interpretations of statutes well into the nineteenth century.

We introduce generative interpretation, a new approach to estimating contractual
meaning using large language models. As AI triumphalism is the order of the day,
we proceed by way of grounded case studies, each illustrating the capabilities of these
novel tools in distinct ways. Taking well-known contracts opinions, and sourcing the
actual agreements that they adjudicated, we show that AI models can help factfinders
ascertain ordinary meaning in context, quantify ambiguity, and fill gaps in parties’
agreements. We also illustrate how models can calculate the probative value of
individual pieces of extrinsic evidence.

After offering best practices for the use of these models given their limitations, we
consider their implications for judicial practice and contract theory. Using large
language models permits courts to estimate what the parties intended cheaply and
accurately, and as such generative interpretation unsettles the current interpretative
stalemate. Their use responds to efficiency-minded textualists and justice-oriented
contextualists, who argue about whether parties will prefer cost and certainty or
accuracy and fairness. Parties—and courts—would prefer a middle path, in which
adjudicators strive to predict what the contract really meant, admitting just enough
context to approximate reality while avoiding unguided and biased assimilation of
evidence. As generative interpretation offers this possibility, we argue it can become
the new workhorse of contractual interpretation.

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.

Longstanding U.S. Supreme Court precedents interpreting the Federal Arbitration Act (“FAA”) coupled with more recent corporate law decisions in Delaware have sparked concerns that public corporations may adopt arbitration provisions precluding shareholder lawsuits, particularly securities fraud class actions. In this Article, we show that these concerns are misplaced. It should be trivially easy for courts to conclude that an arbitration provision set forth in a corporate charter or bylaw is unenforceable against public company shareholders. Simply put, it is a matter of equity and the integral role that a state plays in chartering corporations.

Starting first with the corporate law of Delaware, where most public companies are incorporated, we explain that all corporate charter and bylaw provisions must be “twice tested”: they must be both legal and equitable to be enforceable. Applying the twice-tested framework, we then demonstrate that an arbitration provision precluding class actions would be inequitable because it would deny the vast majority of shareholders a remedy for violations of federal securities law, transfer wealth from smaller shareholders to the largest investors, insulate corporate managers and boards from accountability in a manner inconsistent with established state policy, and rupture the balance between federal and state regulation of public corporations.

Turning next to federal law, we demonstrate that Delaware’s ban on shareholder arbitration is not preempted, despite the Supreme Court’s expansive interpretation of the FAA. Here, our analysis starkly departs from prior scholarship. Rather than denying the contractual nature of a corporation’s governing documents, we embrace what the courts have repeatedly stated, that a corporation’s charter and bylaws are a binding contract between the corporation and its shareholders. However, we broaden the aperture to reveal another party to the corporate contract: the state that has chartered the corporation. This insight is critical with regard to interpretation of the FAA. The FAA applies only where there is an agreement to arbitrate, and there can be no such agreement where the chartering state has through its corporate law withheld its assent to arbitration. Thus, without state assent to shareholder arbitration, the essential precondition for application of the FAA is absent.

Observers fear that large corporations have amassed too much political power. The central fact that animates this concern is growing economic concentration—the rise in the market share of a small number of top firms. These firms are thought to use their enhanced economic power to capture the government and undermine democracy by lobbying. Many scholars and activists have urged the use of antitrust law to combat this threat, leading a “political antitrust” movement that advocates explicit incorporation of political considerations into antitrust enforcement. Political antitrust has sparked great debate not only in academic circles but also among policymakers.

But the debate has been largely data-free; there is little systematic evidence on whether increased economic concentration leads to democratic harms in established democracies. This Article seeks to fill that gap, bringing systematic data analysis to bear on the issue for the first time. We make three contributions. First, we create a comprehensive dataset on lobbying of the federal government, capturing nearly one million records over the past two decades. This data was drawn from the reports required by the Lobbying Disclosure Act as compiled by In Song Kim, to which we contributed by refining the coding, improving the matching between lobbying reports and industry and firm data, and adding new data. Second, we use our dataset to map lobbying patterns, focusing on the connection between economics
and politics. Third, we empirically test some postulates of political antitrust.

Our findings do not support the political antitrust movement’s central hypothesis that there is an association between economic concentration and the concentration of lobbying power. We do not find a strong relationship between economic concentration and the concentration of lobbying expenditure at the industry level. Nor do we find a significant difference between top firms’ and other firms’ allocation of additional revenues to lobbying. And we find no evidence that increasing economic concentration has appreciably restricted the ability of smaller players to seek political influence through lobbying. Ultimately, our findings show that the political antitrust movement’s claims are not empirically well-supported in the lobbying context. Our findings do not allay all concerns about transformation of economic power into political power, but they show that such transformation is complex and nuanced, and they counsel caution about reshaping antitrust law in the name of protecting democracy.

Criminal jurors in American courts typically deliver their judgments through “general verdicts,” which announce only their legal conclusions of “guilty” or “not guilty.” An alternative format, the “special verdict,” would require jurors to confirm their findings of fact regarding each element of the applicable law before reaching a conclusion. Courts have long rejected the use of special verdicts in criminal cases, under the presumption that general verdicts better protect criminal defendants and their right to trial by jury. However, this procedural status quo and its underlying rationale have never been empirically examined—until now.

This Article presents the results of an original nationwide survey on criminal verdict format that comprehensively measured the perspectives of over 1,600 stakeholders in the American legal system: state and federal judges, prosecutors, criminal defense attorneys, law professors, criminal science experts, civil litigators, and jury-eligible lay citizens—with former criminal defendants, victims, and jurors also included in the sample. The data reveal that criminal case law’s longstanding position and presumptions on verdict format are strikingly misaligned with the views and intuitions of current legal stakeholders. The majority of stakeholder groups—including criminal defense attorneys and jury-eligible lay citizens—on average supported the use of special criminal verdicts and expected this format to benefit criminal defendants and jurors in various ways. Furthermore, even the only two stakeholder groups that on average supported the legal status quo in favor of general criminal verdicts—prosecutors and judges—did not subscribe to its rationale that special verdicts will disadvantage criminal defendants.

The survey’s findings call the criminal legal system’s status quo on verdict format into question by debunking the conventional wisdom on which it is based. The Article also draws upon the data to consider why the norm in favor of general criminal verdicts nonetheless persists. It concludes by identifying next empirical steps to qualitatively understand and experimentally test the legal and psychological implications of verdict format in criminal cases.

Why buy something for vast sums of money that other people can seemingly have for free? This is one of the puzzles confronting people new to both the art market and the market in Non-Fungible Tokens (“NFTs”). Both soaring markets depend on a stark division between real and fake, original and copy. Yet in a world of increasingly cheap and limitless copying, why do people still pay so much for authentic originals when you can download or 3D-print identical copies? What is the mysterious mechanism that creates value in a world of unfettered mechanical and digital reproduction?

For years, the mechanism was copyright law, which was created to solve the problem of how to monetize works that could be copied. But the art market, presaging the NFT market, long ago cast aside copyright as the mechanism to create value in a world of copies. Both markets instead depend on a non-legal market mechanism—what I call the “norm of authenticity.”

Yet, in this Article I show, through a deep exploration of the art market, that the norm of authenticity, the bedrock of that market, is artificial: protean, often arbitrary, and ultimately a mutually agreed upon fiction. And the importance of understanding artificial authenticity is urgent because it now has migrated from art to govern the market for NFTs.

The legal profession is and has always been white. Whiteness shaped the profession’s values, culture, and practice norms. These norms helped define the profession’s understanding of reasonable conduct and competency. In turn, they made their way into constitutional jurisprudence. This Article interrogates the role whiteness plays in determining whether a defendant received effective representation and provides a clarifying structural framework for understanding ineffective assistance of counsel jurisprudence.

The Sixth Amendment ineffective assistance of counsel standard relies on presumptions of reasonableness and competency to determine whether defense counsel’s conduct met constitutional requirements. To prove ineffective assistance of counsel, defendants must show counsel’s conduct fell below an objective standard of reasonableness and that—but for counsel’s unprofessional errors—there is a reasonable probability that the proceeding’s outcome would have been different. This Article focuses on the racialized presumption of reasonableness and competency that the law applies to defense counsel when determining ineffective assistance of counsel claims.

The law enables courts to rely on a default white normative perspective to shield criminal adjudications from critical analysis. This Article applies a critical lens to examine the historical and racialized construction of the criminal legal system and the legal profession. It excavates a Jim Crow-era case, Michel v. Louisiana, which laid the foundation for the presumption of counsel’s reasonableness and competency. It reveals how the Court relied on Michel to solidify these racialized presumptions in Strickland v. Washington’s ineffective assistance of counsel standard. This historical context helps explain why all defendants encounter difficulty when seeking relief from defense counsel’s poor performance.

Should pro-immigrant advocates pursue federally funded counsel for all immigrants facing deportation? For most pro-immigrant advocates and scholars, the answer is self-evident: More lawyers for immigrants would mean more justice for immigrants, and thus, the federal government should fund such lawyers. Moreover, the argument goes, federally funded counsel for immigrants would improve due process and fairness, as well as make immigration enforcement more efficient. This Article argues the opposite: Federally funded counsel is the wrong goal. The majority of expulsions of immigrants now happen outside immigration courts—and thus are impervious to immigration lawyering. Even for those who make it before an immigration judge, factors including geography, random judicial assignment, and the limited forms of deportation relief mean that most people represented by immigration lawyers are still ultimately deported. Gideon v. Wainwright’s guarantee of counsel in the criminal realm co-existed for nearly sixty years with the development of mass incarceration. Likewise, expanding federally funded counsel for immigrants could coexist with a vastly expanded deportation infrastructure without contradiction. In fact, federally funded counsel would provide cover for continued deportations, and the restrictions that would likely come with such funding would make it harder for attorneys to challenge the growth of the mass deportation regime effectively. Instead of investing in a strategy that risks normalizing expanded enforcement, pro-immigrant advocates and scholars must choose battles that aim at dismantling immigration enforcement. This means putting aside efforts that seek to add lawyers as one more mandated player in immigration court.

A large body of scholarship has debated the constitutionality of criminalizing travel to seek abortions—an issue with new salience in the wake of the Supreme Court’s decision in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization to overrule Roe v. Wade. Increasingly, however, antiabortion activists are turning to civil remedies as a supplement or alternative to criminal prosecution in cases involving out-of-state abortions. In contrast to criminal jurisdiction, where the outer bounds of states’ authority to punish out-of-state conduct is highly uncertain, the extraterritorial application of state law in civil litigation is a common, routine effect of choice-of-law analysis that is unlikely to raise constitutional difficulties. As a result, it is reasonable to expect that courts in antiabortion states may give broad geographical effect to abortion-restrictive laws and policies in at least some civil litigation. The resulting decisions are likely to create substantial friction between states, as abortion-permissive states try to protect their own citizens from liability even as the Full Faith and Credit Clause demands recognition of foreign-state judgments that courts may be reluctant to give. Similar clashes between state policies have, to be sure, happened before, and this Article explores their outcomes in the areas of divorce liberalization, cannabis legalization, and the enforceability of noncompete clauses. At the same time, abortion is likely to give rise to broader and more intractable conflicts than any other issue courts have confronted in the recent past. Although individual judges can reduce occasions for interstate friction by applying restrained, conduct-focused conflicts principles, the states’ fundamental disunity on the underlying issue of abortion may prove to be a problem that our choice-of-law
system is simply not equipped to resolve.

The overruling of Roe v. Wade has unleashed a torrent of regulatory and punitive activity restricting previously lawful reproductive options. But the turn to the expansive criminal law and new schemes of civil liability creates novel concerns, quite distinct from the pre-Roe landscape a half-century ago. Reproductive choice, and its nemesis, turn upon information. For pregnant people, deciding on a choice of medical care entails a search for advice and services. Information is at a premium for them. Meanwhile, efforts to regulate abortion began with clinic closings. But they will quickly extend to civil actions and criminal indictments of patients, providers, and those who facilitate abortions. Like the pregnant themselves, criminal and civil enforcers depend on information. And in the contemporary context, the informational landscape, and hence access to counseling and services such as medication abortion, is largely mediated through digital forms of communication. In an era when most people use search engines or social media to access information, the digital architecture and data retention policies of those platforms will determine not only whether the pregnant can access medically accurate advice but also whether the act of seeking health information places them in legal peril.

This Article offers an in-depth analysis of the core legal issues concerning abortion related digital privacy after the end of Roe. It demonstrates first that digital privacy for pregnant persons in the United States has suddenly become a tremendously fraught and complex question. It then maps the treacherous social, legal, and economic terrain upon which firms, individuals, and states will make privacy-related decisions. Building on this political economy, we develop a set of moral and economic arguments to the effect that digital firms should maximize digital privacy for pregnant persons within the scope of the law and should actively resist states’ efforts to conscript them into a war on reproductive choice. We then lay out precise, tangible steps that firms should take to enact this active resistance. We explore here in particular a range of powerful yet legal options for firms to refuse cooperation with restriction-focused criminal and civil investigations. Finally, we present an original, concrete and immediately actionable proposal for federal and state legislative intervention: a statutory evidentiary privilege to shield abortion-relevant data from warrants, subpoenas, court orders, and judicial proceedings aimed at limiting the availability of reproductive care.

Neoliberalism and its accompanying austerity measures are shrinking local and
national government budgets, even though constituent needs remain pressing. In
desperation, public officials sometimes replenish public coffers through illicit
extraction from segments of the population poorly positioned to fight back. In
Detroit, for example, city officials inflated property tax assessments in violation of
the Michigan Constitution, leading to illegally inflated property taxes that many
homeowners could not afford to pay. Consequently, since 2009, one in three homes
have completed the property tax foreclosure process, the highest number of property
tax foreclosures in American history since the Great Depression. These
unlawful practices are not just occurring in Detroit, but also in other American
cities such as Ferguson, Philadelphia, and New Orleans.

Nevertheless, because corruption is universally defined as corrupt acts that are for
private or personal gain, there is currently no lexicon to describe illegal acts that
principally benefit the public treasury. I have coined the term “stategraft” to
describe this overlooked phenomenon: when state agents transfer property from
persons to the state in violation of the state’s own laws or basic human rights. To
establish stategraft as an essential theoretical framework, this Article elaborates its
definitional elements, demonstrates its conceptual value, and shows how it extends
existing discourses on corruption, state crime, and the predatory state.

In the battle for market supremacy, many firms are employing pricing software that
removes humans from price-setting decisions. These pricing algorithms fundamentally
change the dynamics of competition and have important implications for antitrust
law. The Sherman Act has two operative provisions. Section One condemns
agreements between firms that unreasonably restrain trade, such as price-fixing
agreements. Section Two prohibits monopolizing a relevant market through
anticompetitive conduct. Although a considerable body of excellent scholarship
explains how pricing algorithms can collude to fix prices in violation of Section
One, no scholarship discusses how algorithmic pricing could violate Section Two.

This Article addresses how pricing algorithms can facilitate illegal monopolization
through predatory pricing. Predatory pricing is a two-stage strategy. First, in the
predation phase, the predator charges a price below its costs, reckoning that its
rivals will exit the market because they cannot make profitable sales at that price.
The predator willingly incurs losses in order to force its rivals from the market.
Second, during the recoupment phase, after its rivals have exited the market, the
predator recovers its earlier losses by charging a monopoly price.

Theorists have asserted that predatory pricing claims are inherently implausible for
three reasons: (1) The predator must suffer disproportionately outsized losses
because it controls a larger share of the market; (2) predatory pricing threats are
not credible because a firm cannot believably commit to below-cost pricing; and
(3) firms that exited the market during the predation phase will simply reenter the
market during the recoupment phase. Based on these theoretical arguments, federal
judges consistently reject predatory pricing claims.

This Article explains how algorithmic pricing undermines all three theoretical arguments
claiming that predatory pricing is not a credible route to monopoly. First, a
predatory firm can use pricing algorithms to identify and target its rivals’ customers
for below-cost pricing, while continuing to charge their own existing customers a
profitable price, which minimizes the predator’s losses during the predation phase.
Second, algorithms can commit to price predation in ways humans cannot. Third,
pricing algorithms present several new avenues for recouping the losses associated
with predatory pricing, including algorithmic lock-in and price manipulation. In
short, even if one believed that predatory pricing was implausible in the past, the
proliferation of algorithmic pricing changes everything. Because pricing algorithms
invalidate the theories behind the current judicial skepticism, this evolving technology
requires federal courts to revisit the letter and spirit of antitrust law’s treatment
of predatory pricing claims.

This Article reinvigorates the case for abolishing strict liability in the criminal law.
Undertaking an intellectual history of mens rea policy, I spotlight two assumptions
that have fueled strict liability’s historic rise and current deprioritization in criminal
justice reform. One assumption is that eliminating culpable mental states from
criminal statutes is an effective means of reducing crime. The other assumption is
that adding culpable mental states to criminal statutes is an ineffective means of
lowering prison rates or promoting racial justice. This Article argues that these
assumptions are unsupported by available evidence and have no place in criminal
policymaking. Synthesizing decades of social science research, I first explain why
there is little reason to believe that strict liability promotes public safety. Next,
building upon the first-ever legal impact study of mens rea reform, I explain how
adding culpable mental states to criminal statutes could alter charging practices and
conviction rates. I then demonstrate the racial justice benefits of universal mens rea
standards by highlighting the concentration of strict liability in offenses disparately
enforced against people of color. Through this deeper understanding of mens rea
policy, the Article reveals the strength of the case against strict liability, and why
culpable mental state requirements are an important tool in the fight against mass
incarceration.

Sentencing outcomes turn on moral and evaluative determinations. For example, a finding of “irreparable corruption” is generally a precondition for juvenile life without parole. A finding that the “aggravating factors outweigh the mitigating factors” determines whether a defendant receives the death penalty. Should such moral determinations that expose defendants to extraordinary penalties be subject to a standard of proof? A broad range of federal and state courts have purported to decide this issue “in the abstract and without reference to our sentencing case law,” as the Supreme Court recently put it in Kansas v. Carr. According to these courts, “it would mean nothing” to ask whether the defendant “deserves mercy beyond a reasonable doubt” or “more-likely-than-not deserves it” because moral questions are not “factual.” Instead, moral determinations are highly subjective “value calls” to which concepts of doubt and certainty do not intelligibly apply.

Implicit in these rulings is a controversial view of the nature of moral judgment. This Article traces the contours of the view and argues that it is out of step with the way the broader public thinks about morality and fails to address the issues defendants have raised. Courts should avoid wading into such controversial waters for two reasons. First, the judiciary has historically maintained neutrality on issues of significant public concern. Second, even if moral determinations are not factual, applying a standard of proof to at least some moral decisions at sentencing would change the outcome of the sentencer’s deliberations and improve the legitimacy of the legal system. For the reasonableness of doubt depends on context, and moral questions—“Are you certain the defendant deserves death?”—make salient the stakes relative to which a person should decide what to believe about ordinary empirical matters. On the resulting view, reasonable doubt in the final moral analysis is not just intelligible, but essential for correcting a bias in the structure of the bifurcated criminal trial that systematically disadvantages defendants: the tendency for de-contextualized “factual findings” in the guilt phase to control outcomes at sentencing.

In this Article, we explore and critique the foundational norms that shape federal and state energy regulation and suggest pathways for reform that can incorporate principles of “energy justice.” These energy justice principles—developed in academic scholarship and social movements—include the equitable distribution of costs and benefits of the energy system, equitable participation and representation in energy decisionmaking, and restorative justice for structurally marginalized groups.

While new legislation, particularly at the state level, is critical to the effort to advance energy justice, our focus here is on regulators’ ability to implement reforms now using their existing authority to advance the public interest and establish just, reasonable, and nondiscriminatory rates, charges, and practices. Throughout the Article, we challenge the longstanding narrative that utility regulators are engaged solely in a technical ratemaking exercise in setting utility rates. We argue that rate setting is and always has been social policy implemented within a legislative framework designed to promote the public interest. As we explain, when regulators and advocates expressly recognize this fact, it creates new opportunities for the regulatory system to achieve energy justice goals.

Through our reexamination of energy system governance, we evaluate new approaches to advance the public interest and set just and reasonable rates for energy consumers. These new approaches consider system benefits as well as costs, enhance universal and affordable access to utility service, alleviate income constraints on residential energy consumption as an economic development tool, increase equitable access to distributed energy resources such as energy efficiency upgrades and rooftop solar, and enhance procedural justice in ratemaking proceedings. We argue that over the long run, these pathways to a more just energy system align the interests of all system stakeholders by creating community wealth and collective prosperity.

The law of armed conflict has a built-in accountability gap. Under international law, there is no individualized remedy for civilians whose property, bodies, or lives are destroyed in war. Accountability mechanisms for civilian harms are limited to unlawful acts: Individuals who willfully target civilians or otherwise commit serious violations of international humanitarian law may be prosecuted for war crimes, and states that commit internationally wrongful acts must make reparations under the law of state responsibility. But no entity is liable for lawful but unintended harmful acts—regardless of how many or how horrifically civilians are hurt. This Article proposes developing an international “war torts” regime, which would require states to pay for both lawful and unlawful acts in armed conflict that cause civilian harm. Just as tort and criminal law coexist and complement each other in domestic legal regimes, war torts and war crimes would overlap but serve different aims. Establishing war torts and creating a route to a remedy would not only increase the likelihood that victims would receive compensation, it would also create much-needed incentives for states to mitigate or reduce civilian harms. Ultimately, a war torts regime would further the law of armed conflict’s foundational purpose of minimizing needless civilian suffering.

Policing agencies in the United States are engaging in mass collection of personal data, building a vast architecture of surveillance. License plate readers collect our location information. Mobile forensics data terminals suck in the contents of cell phones during traffic stops. CCTV maps our movements. Cheap storage means most of this is kept for long periods of time—sometimes into perpetuity. Artificial intelligence makes searching and mining the data a snap. For most of us whose data is collected, stored, and mined, there is no suspicion whatsoever of wrongdoing.

This growing network of surveillance is almost entirely unregulated. It is, in short, lawless. The Fourth Amendment touches almost none of it, either because what is captured occurs in public, and so is supposedly “knowingly exposed,” or because of the doctrine that shields information collected from third parties. It is unregulated by statutes because legislative bodies—when they even know about these surveillance systems—see little profit in taking on the police.

In the face of growing concern over such surveillance, this Article argues there is a constitutional solution sitting in plain view. In virtually every other instance in which personal information is collected by the government, courts require that a sound regulatory scheme be in place before information collection occurs. The rulings on the mandatory nature of regulation are remarkably similar, no matter under which clause of the Constitution collection is challenged.

This Article excavates this enormous body of precedent and applies it to the problem of government mass data collection. It argues that before the government can engage in such surveillance, there must be a regulatory scheme in place. And by changing the default rule from allowing police to collect absent legislative prohibition, to banning collection until there is legislative action, legislatures will be compelled to act (or there will be no surveillance). The Article defines what a minimally acceptable regulatory scheme for mass data collection must include and shows how it can be grounded in the Constitution.

The Supreme Court’s 2017 decision in Bristol-Myers Squibb Co. v. Superior Court threatens a sea change in the relationship between personal jurisdiction and aggregate litigation. The most crucial concern has been what the decision means for class actions. Must a court subject the claims of every unnamed class member to separate jurisdictional scrutiny? If so, it could be impossible for a plaintiff who sues in her home state to represent class members outside that state; instead, the Constitution
would permit multistate or nationwide class actions only in states where the defendant is subject to general jurisdiction. For claims against a foreign defendant, no such state may exist.

This issue potentially implicates a range of difficult and unsettled doctrinal, practical, conceptual, and theoretical questions—about both personal jurisdiction and class actions. This Article, however, proposes a clean solution that coheres with existing case law while retaining the vitality of class actions to provide meaningful remedies in cases where systemic wrongs have nationwide consequences. On this approach, specific jurisdiction would be proper in any case where (a) there is specific jurisdiction over the named plaintiff’s claim against the defendant; and (b) a class action led by that plaintiff would satisfy the certification requirements of Rule 23. This solution finds support not only in longstanding practice prior to Bristol-Myers, but in the more fundamental principles and policies underlying specific jurisdiction. The impact of these underlying values has been further bolstered by the Supreme Court’s most recent decision on personal jurisdiction—Ford Motor Co. v. Montana Eighth Judicial District Court. The upshot is that personal jurisdiction can exist over a class action even if the forum state would not have personal jurisdiction over a hypothetical separate action by an out-of-state individual who is an unnamed member of the class.

Moreover, this Article’s proposal makes it unnecessary for courts to confront thornier questions that would otherwise arise. Those questions include: the proper timing and procedural mechanism for objecting to personal jurisdiction with respect to the claims of unnamed class members; whether the jurisdictional constraints apply differently in federal courts and state courts; whether they apply differently to claims based on substantive federal law as opposed to state-law claims; the precise scope and justification for pendent personal jurisdiction; and the extent to which post-service events in federal court (such as class certification) are subject to the more expansive Fifth Amendment test for federal court personal jurisdiction. Under this Article’s solution, courts have a straightforward way to examine personal jurisdiction over class actions that does not hinge on or implicate these other issues.

Policymakers are constantly faced with the complex task of managing novel challenges. At times, these challenges result from new technologies: Consider fights over allocating air rights for drones or decisions about how to share scarce vaccines in a pandemic. Other times the resources are old, but the challenges are new, such as how to fairly allocate water in times of unprecedented drought or previously undesirable rare earth minerals that are in demand for modern manufacturing and energy production. Often, instead of carefully tailoring a regime to the new resource, decisionmakers simply rely on mechanisms they are familiar with. When jurisdictions borrow from each other, scholars call this a “legal transplant”—as when one state copies another state’s innovations or when the federal government learns from the “laboratories of democracy.” This Article unveils a new dimension of legal transplants: transplants across subject areas. By transplants across subject areas, this article refers to instances when a jurisdiction looks for doctrines in other legal areas, often within its own legal system, when regulating a new resource or addressing a new challenge.

This Article makes three key contributions. First, it identifies a new type of transplant—between subject matters within a jurisdiction. Second, it analyzes the reasons for internal, cross-subject legal transplants and the criteria for selecting which subject areas to copy from. Third, the Article brings the legal transplants literature to bear, specifically, on natural resource law. It explores two cases, groundwater and wind energy, where policymakers and courts have borrowed from other resource schemes, often ignoring the scientific and social differences between these natural resources. Other areas of law, such as the incorporation of contract doctrines in landlord-tenant relations, are also described to show the explanatory power of the natural transplant framework. This conceptual framework is then applied to new mineral developments in space and the deep sea. Cross-subject transplants may be more prevalent than previously appreciated, and understanding them will pave the way to analyze the regulation of new developments in natural resources, infrastructure, and beyond.

As they carry out their decennial redistricting duties, those in power sometimes audaciously manipulate district lines to secure an electoral advantage. In other words, they gerrymander. Often, however, the existing map already gives those in power a significant edge, and they may see little need for an overhaul. For them, the name of the game during redistricting is continuity rather than change.

This Article introduces the concept of “gerrylaundering” to describe mapmakers’ efforts to lock in their favorable position by preserving key elements of the existing map. Gerrylaundering and gerrymandering both serve anti-competitive ends, but they do so through different means. Unlike gerrymandering, gerrylaundering requires no conspicuous cracking and packing of disfavored voters. Instead, it involves what this Article dubs locking and stocking: Mapmakers lock in prior district configurations to the extent possible and stock each new district with one incumbent. Based on a review of redistricting practices in all fifty states, this Article concludes that gerrylaundering is widespread and that self-serving mapmakers commonly combine gerrylaundering and gerrymandering techniques in varying proportions to achieve their preferred results.

Recognizing gerrylaundering as a phenomenon enriches existing redistricting discourse by spotlighting the insidious nature of continuity strategies: They serve to advantage those in power, yet, since they appear more restrained than radical redesigns, they come with a veneer of legitimacy. This Article concludes that the veneer is thin. As a legal matter, efforts to preserve district cores and protect incumbents do not stand on the same footing as efforts to comply with traditional geographic districting principles. As a policy matter, gerrylaundering is more likely to subvert core democratic values than to foster them. At least two significant takeaways follow: First, courts should approach continuity criteria skeptically both when they review challenges to redistricting plans and when they draw maps themselves. Second, and more broadly, minimizing the legacy of prior maps has the potential to inject healthy dynamism into our system of district-based representation.

Memes are the paradigm of a new, flourishing creativity. Not only are these captioned images one of the most pervasive and important forms of online creativity, but they also upend many of copyright law’s fundamental assumptions about creativity, commercialization, and distribution. Chief among these assumptions is that copying is harmful. Not only does this mismatch threaten meme culture and expose fundamental problems in copyright law and theory, but the mismatch is even more significant because memes are far from an exceptional case. Indeed, memes are a prototype of a new mode of creativity that is emerging in our contemporary digital era, as can be seen across a range of works. Therefore, the concern with memes signals a much broader problem in copyright law and theory. This is not to say that the traditional creativity that copyright has long sought to protect is dead. Far from it. Both paths of creativity, traditional and new, can be vibrant. Yet we must be sensitive to the misfit between the new creativity and existing copyright law if we want the new creativity to continue to thrive.

Our deregulated campaign finance system has a race problem. In this Article, we apply innovations in statistical methods to the universe of campaign contributions for federal elections and analyze the racial distribution of money in American politics between 1980 and 2012. We find that white people are extremely over-represented among donors. This racial gap in campaign contributions is significantly greater than the gap between white and nonwhite voter participation and white and nonwhite officer holders. It is also relatively constant across time and elected offices.

This result is an important missing piece in the conversation about equity in political participation. We argue that the courts and Congress should take steps to address the racial gaps in campaign finance participation. The participation and representation problems that flow from racial inequality in deregulated campaign finance could inform claims under the Voting Rights Act (VRA), and politico-financial inequalities certainly bear on the normative problems that the statute intends to address. But the most politically viable way to address the campaign finance racial gap lies in adoption of public financing for political campaigns, which offer the promise of increasing the racial representation of campaign contributions. When racial representation in contributions is improved, improved equality in the distribution of resources and power in electoral and political systems should follow.

Judges matter. The opinions of a few impact the lives of many. Judges romanticize their own impartiality, but apathy in the face of systems of oppression favors the status quo and clears the way for conservative agendas to take root. The lifetime appointments of federal judges, the deliberate weaponization of the bench by reactionary opponents of the New Deal and progressive social movements, and the sheer inertia of judicial self-restraint have led to the conservative capture of the courts. By contrast, empathy for the oppressed and downtrodden renders substantive justice possible and leaves room for unsuccessful litigants to accept unfavorable outcomes. But some judges—movement judges—bring more to the bench than just empathy, raging against systemic injustice with an understanding of its burdens on real human lives. This Article argues that we need movement judges to realize the abolitionist and democracy-affirming potential of the Constitution. Although the judiciary is often described as the “least democratic” of the three branches of government, it has the potential to be the most democratic. With movement judges, the judiciary can become a force for “We the People.”

The United States Internal Revenue Service (IRS) has repeatedly taken the position
that because the IRS does not ask taxpayers to identify their race or ethnicity on
submitted tax returns, IRS enforcement actions are not affected by taxpayers’ race
or ethnicity. This claim, which I call “colorblind tax enforcement,” has been made
by multiple IRS Commissioners serving in multiple administrations (both
Democratic and Republican). This claim has been made to members of Congress
and to members of the press.

In this Article, I refute the IRS position that racial bias cannot occur under current
IRS practices. I do so by identifying the conditions under which race and ethnicity
could determine tax enforcement outcomes under three separate models of racial
bias: racial animus, implicit bias, and transmitted bias. I then demonstrate how such
conditions can be present across seven distinct tax enforcement settings regardless
of whether the IRS asks about race or ethnicity. The IRS enforcement settings ana-
lyzed include summonses, civil penalty assessments, collection due process hear-
ings, innocent spouse relief, and Department of Justice (DOJ) referrals.

By establishing that every major enforcement function of the IRS remains vulner-
able to racial bias, this Article also challenges the IRS decision to omit race and
ethnicity from the collection and analysis of tax data. The absence of publicly avail-
able data on IRS enforcement activities by race should not be interpreted as evi-
dence that no racial disparities exist. I conclude by describing alternative
approaches to preventing racial bias in tax enforcement other than the current IRS
policy of purported colorblindness.

Structural constitutional law regulates the workings of government and supplies the
rules of the political game. Whether by design or by accident, these rules sometimes
tilt the playing field for or against certain political factions—not just episodically,
based on who holds power at a given moment, but systematically over time—in
terms of electoral outcomes or policy objectives. In these instances, structural con-
stitutional law is itself structurally biased.

This Article identifies and begins to develop the concept of such structural biases,
with a focus on biases affecting the major political parties. Recent years have wit-
nessed a revival of political conflict over the basic terms of the U.S. constitutional
order. We suggest that this phenomenon, and a large part of structural constitu-
tional conflict in general, is best explained by the interaction between partisan
polarization and structural bias, each of which can intensify the other. The Article
also offers a typology of structural biases, keyed to the contemporary United States
but potentially applicable to any system. To date, legal scholars have lagged social
scientists in investigating the efficiency, distributional, and political effects of gov-
ernance arrangements. The concept of structural bias, we aim to show, can help
bridge this disciplinary gap and thereby advance the study of constitutional design
and constitutional politics.

In the current model of federal-Indian relations, the United States claims a plenary
legislative power, as putative guardian, to regulate Indian tribes. Under this model,
tribes are essentially wards in a state of pupilage. But the federal-tribal relationship
was not always so. Originally, the federal government embraced, even promoted, a
more robust model of tribal sovereignty in which federal-Indian treatymaking and
diplomacy figured prominently. Through treaties, the United States and tribes nego-
tiated territorial boundaries, forged alliances, facilitated trade, and otherwise man-
aged their relations. In 1871, Congress attempted to put an end to federal-Indian
treatymaking by purporting to strip tribes of their status as legitimate treaty part-
ners. In a rider to the 1871 Appropriations Act, Congress prohibited the recognition
of tribes as sovereign entities with whom the United States could negotiate treaties.
Since that time, the 1871 Act and the plenary power-pupilage model it entrenched
have grown deep roots in federal Indian law and the policies of the United States.
Congress has aggrandized its role in tribal life at the expense of tribal sovereignty,
and the coordinate branches of the federal government have acquiesced in this
foundational shift.

The literature of federal Indian law has wrestled with the doctrine of plenary power,
contemplated the fate of the federal-tribal treaty relationship, and questioned the
constitutionality of the 1871 rider. This Article posits new arguments for the uncon-
stitutionality of the 1871 Act, uprooting the presumptions underlying the Act and
revitalizing the prospect of federal-Indian treatymaking. Two recent developments
provide an opportunity for such a transformation. In Zivotofsky v. Kerry, the
Supreme Court held that the President alone possesses the power to recognize for-
eign states and governments. While Zivotofsky was a landmark case for U.S. for-
eign relations law, its potential significance for federal Indian law has gone
underappreciated. Zivotofsky did not directly address the locus of power to recog-
nize tribal sovereignty to enter treaties, but it prompts the question and provides a
blueprint for arriving at an answer. Engaging that blueprint, this Article argues that
the President possesses the exclusive power to recognize tribes’ sovereign capacity
to enter treaties. The result: The 1871 Act is unconstitutional because it attempts to
limit that power. In our view, the President can and should unilaterally reengage in
federal-Indian treatymaking, revitalizing treatymaking and reanimating the sover-
eignty model of federal-Indian relations.

We have entered the era dominated by a dogmatic textualism—albeit one that is fracturing, as illustrated by the three warring original public meaning opinions in the blockbuster sexual orientation case, Bostock v. Clayton County. This Article provides conceptual tools that allow lawyers and students to understand the deep analytical problems faced and created by the new textualism advanced by Justice Scalia and his heirs. The key is to think about choice of text—why one piece of text rather than another—and choice of context—what materials are relevant to confirm or clarify textual meaning. Professors Eskridge and Nourse apply these concepts to evaluate the new textualism’s asserted neutrality, predictability, and objectivity in its canonical cases, as well as in Bostock and other recent textual debates.

The authors find that textual gerrymandering—suppressing some relevant texts while picking apart others, as well as cherry-picking context—has been pervasive. Texts and contexts are chosen to achieve particular results—without any law-based justification. Further, this Article shows that, by adopting the seemingly benign “we are all textualists now” position, liberals as well as conservatives have avoided the key analytic questions and have contributed to the marginalization of the nation’s premier representative body, namely, Congress. Today, the Supreme Court asks how “ordinary” populist readers interpret language (the consumer economy of statutory interpretation) even as the Court rejects the production economy (the legislative authors’ meaning).

Without returning to discredited searches for ephemeral “legislative intent,” we propose a new focus on legislative evidence of meaning. In the spirit of Dean John F. Manning’s suggestion that purposivists have improved their approach by imposing text-based discipline, textualists can improve their approach to choice of text and choice of context by imposing the discipline of what we call “republican evidence”—evidence of how the legislative authors explained the statute to ordinary readers. A republic is defined by law based upon the people’s representatives; hence the name for our theory: “republican evidence.” This Article concludes by affirming the republican nature of Madisonian constitutional design and situating the Court’s assault on republican evidence as part of a larger crisis posed by populist movements to republican democracies today.

The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) requires employers to restructure exclusionary environments upon the request of their employees with disabilities so that they may continue working. Under a virtually unexamined aspect of the mandate, however, the parties must negotiate in good faith over every accommodation request. This “interactive process,” while decentralized and potentially universal, occurs on a private, individualized basis.

Although the very existence of the mandate has been heavily debated, scholarship has yet to acknowledge that the ADA is actually ambivalent to individuals’ relative power to effect organizational change through bargaining. This Article is the first to critique the law’s interactive requirements. The process does not appear in the statute, but is an agency’s conceptualization of the mandate as an idealized exchange. By evaluating new empirical evidence relating to race, class, and gender outcomes against the meso-level theories underlying the mandate, this Article argues that the process disempowers employees through deficits of information, individuated design, and employers’ resistance to costs. Nonetheless, momentum to replicate the mandate to accommodate pregnancy and other workers’ needs continues apace.

As the workplace is increasingly deemed essential to societal well-being, this new frame reveals the law’s design flaws and unfulfilled potential. In response, this Article proposes reallocations of power so that the state may gather and publicize organizational precedent to facilitate structural analysis, regulation, and innovation at scale; legally recognize that antidiscrimination work, particularly dismantling ableist environments, is a collective endeavor; and expand the social insurance model for accommodations. Perhaps, then, the ADA’s original vision of institutional transformation may become possible.

In a world in which liberals and conservatives disagree about almost everything, there is one important point on which surprising numbers of liberals and conservatives agree: They view the Court’s modern substantive due process decisions as repeating the constitutional wrongs of Lochner. In this Article, we draw on the history of modern substantive due process cases to refute the Lochner objection and to show how these cases demonstrate the democratic potential of judicial review often questioned in contemporary debates over court reform.

In the late 1930s, the Court repudiated Lochner while affirming the importance of judicial review in securing our constitutional democracy. In Carolene Products Footnote Four, the Court famously staked out a continuing role for “more searching judicial inquiry” in cases where “prejudice . . . tends seriously to curtail the operation of those political processes ordinarily to be relied upon to protect minorities.” Yet our understanding of the Carolene Products framework dates not to the 1938 decision but instead to the 1980s. In Democracy and Distrust, John Hart Ely developed Footnote Four into a liberal theory of representation-reinforcing judicial review that endorsed decisions protecting certain rights— voting, speech, and equal protection, specifically Brown v. Board of Education— and repudiated decisions protecting other rights—specifically substantive due process. Ely published his attack on substantive due process in 1980, just as conservatives elected President Reagan to overturn Roe v. Wade.

With the benefit of the intervening forty years, this Article revisits and reassesses Ely’s now-canonical interpretation of the Carolene Products framework. We answer the “Lochner objection” by showing how modern substantive due process claims were candidates for close judicial scrutiny in the Carolene Products framework; how the claimants’ strategies of “speaking out” and “coming out” were efforts to be heard in democratic politics; and how bottom-up mobilization around courts can be democracy-promoting in ways that Ely did not imagine. In short, we show that Ely had the big idea that judicial review could be democracy-promoting, but he argued his case on faulty premises. Democracy and Distrust bore significant influence of the traditions and the cultural forces Ely argued against. We show what Ely missed, not because we imagine federal courts are now likely to act as they did in the 1970s, but rather because Ely’s framing of these cases has become dominant and shapes the ways Americans continue to debate the role of courts. We examine the arguments of the claimants in the modern substantive due process cases—then unrepresented in positions of legal authority—and reason about their cases in light of scholarship on the ways family structures citizenship, and on the different roles of courts in a democracy, that has evolved in the four decades since Ely wrote.

What might this reconsideration of the modern substantive due process cases suggest about the ongoing debate over the role of federal courts in a constitutional democracy? This Article does not engage with the particulars of court reform, but it does shed light on certain fundamental premises of that debate. Our analysis rules out one commonly cited justification for reform: that judicial restrictions on legislative sovereignty are by definition antidemocratic and that the modern substantive due process cases are the classic illustration. We show the many ways in which judicial intervention in these cases was democracy-promoting. As one looks at concrete lines of cases and structural features of courts, one can ask about the democracy-promoting and democracy-inhibiting ways that courts perform and pose more discriminating questions about the goals of court reform—whether to adopt reforms that make courts more independent, less polarized, more open, and more democratically responsive, or to limit their role in all or certain areas of a democratic order.

The federal courts of appeals embrace the ideal that judges are committed to rule-of-law norms, collegiality, and judicial independence. Whatever else divides them, these judges generally agree that partisan identity has no place on the bench. Consequently, when a court of appeals sits “en banc,” (i.e., collectively) the party affiliations of the three-judge panel under review should not matter. Starting in the 1980s, however, partisan ideology has grown increasingly important in the selection of federal appellate judges. It thus stands to reason—and several high-profile modern examples illustrate—that today’s en banc review could be used as a weapon by whatever party has appointed the most judges on any particular circuit. A weaponized en banc reflects more than just ideological differences between judges. We define the phrase to capture a “team mentality” on the courts of appeals—an us versus them—where the judges vote in blocs aligned with the party of the President who appointed them and use en banc review to reverse panels composed of members from the other team.

In this Article, we test whether en banc review is now or has ever been weaponized. We make use of an original data set—the most comprehensive one of which we are aware—that tracks en banc decisions over six decades. Our findings are surprising in two very different ways. The bulk of our data indicates that rule-of-law norms are deeply embedded. From the 1960s through 2017, en banc review seems to have developed some sort of immunity from partisan behavior over time, and we unpack potential reasons why. But that important and long-lasting immunity could now be in danger. Our data from 2018–2020 show a dramatic and statistically significant surge in behavior consistent with the weaponizing of en banc review. It is too soon to tell whether this is a temporary change or an inflection point indicating a more permanent shift. We consider both possibilities and, in so doing, highlight the critical role that en banc review plays in ascertaining judicial commitment to rule-of-law norms. The time may soon be upon us to confront the cost of en banc review in a regime where party identity frequently trumps other judicial impulses.

The information that we reveal from interactions online and with electronic devices has massive value—for both private profit and public benefit, such as improving health, safety, and even commute times. Who owns the lucrative big data that we generate through the everyday necessity of interacting with technology? Calls for legal regulation regarding how companies use our data have spurred laws and proposals framed by the predominant lens of individual privacy and the right to control and delete data about oneself. By focusing on individual control over droplets of personal data, the major consumer privacy regimes overlook the important question of rights in the big data ocean.

This Article is the first to frame a right of the public to benefit from our consumer big data. Drawing on insights from property theory, regulatory advances, and open innovation, the Article introduces a model that permits controlled access and the use of big data for public interest purposes while protecting against privacy harms, among others. I propose defining a right of access to pooled personal data for public purposes, with sensitive information safeguarded by a controlled-access procedure akin to that used by institutional review boards in medical research today. To encourage companies to voluntarily share data for public interest purposes, the Article also proposes regulatory sandboxes and safe harbors akin to those successfully deployed in other domains, such as antitrust, financial technology, and intellectual property law.

Legal scholars have long debated the President’s authority over administrative agencies. However, these narratives have ignored that Presidents have assumed directive control for decades—via the National Security Council. This Note fills that void in two ways. First, it provides a historical account. It reviews available national security directives and assesses their role in instigating administrative action. It reveals that, over time, Presidents have increasingly invoked these directives to mold domestic and economic policy. Second, this Note evaluates national security directives under three models of presidential authority: the unitary executive theory, Justice Elena Kagan’s notion of implied statutory authorization, and Professor Kevin Stack’s requirement of explicit statutory permission. It determines that all three theories sanction the President’s deployment of national security directives to control agencies and shape domestic affairs. This Note concludes that by providing a firm constitutional and statutory footing from which a President can dictate administrative action, national security directives are a powerful and expanding presidential tool.

Human trafficking and forced labor are serious crimes that violate the human rights of millions around the world. They also generate substantial profit for multinational corporations that purchase inputs at forced labor prices. This Note discusses how the Trafficking Victims Protection Reauthorization Act (TVPRA) can be used to establish civil liability for U.S. corporations benefiting from forced labor in their supply chains. Despite excitement in the human rights literature about the TVPRA, recent TVPRA claims involving international supply chains have failed to survive motions for dismissal and summary judgment. This article aims to provide insight into the recent decisions and to determine if they were correctly decided.

While civil liability could help combat global forced labor, recent TVPRA claims have failed because courts interpret the statute narrowly when adjudicating cases involving international supply chains. These restrictive interpretations are incorrect, especially because Congress intended the TVPRA to be a robust response to the global problems of trafficking and forced labor.

In this Note, I challenge three dominant theories behind property tax exemptions for university housing—the “Quid-Pro-Quo,” “Sovereignty,” and, what I call, “Oxbridge” theories—and propose that only undergrad housing should be tax-exempt. My proposal would recognize the unique educational value of undergrad housing, help reduce town-gown tensions, and be easy to apply.

Data makes the world go round. Now more than ever, routine police work depends on the collection and analysis of digital information. Law enforcement agencies possess vast sums of intel on who we are, where we go, and what we do. The proliferation of digital technology has transformed federal criminal procedure—from how police investigate crimes to how prosecutors prove them at trial. Courts and commentators have written much about the first part, but less so about the second. Together, they represent two sides of the same problem: constitutional doctrine lagging behind new technology, leading to suboptimal constraints on law enforcement conduct.

This Note explores the effects of digital technology on the nature and scope of federal prosecutors’ disclosure obligations under Brady v. Maryland. As police pass along more data to prosecutors—usually terabytes at a time—prosecutors face the difficult task of sifting through mountains of evidence to determine what is exculpatory or otherwise favorable to the defense. Often, prosecutors turn over their entire case file, knowing full well that defense counsel will fare no better. This state of affairs puts our adversarial system on shaky ground. This Note urges district courts to exercise greater oversight of the discovery process, requiring prosecutors to take reasonable precautions so exculpatory evidence comes to light.

Our tax code is stuck in the Middle Ages. The Internal Revenue Code (“the Code”), codified at 26 U.S.C., uses the concepts of addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division, as one might expect of a tax code. But, disdaining the 1500s invention of the elementary math symbols ‘+,’ ‘–,’ ‘×,’ and ‘÷,’ the Code instead uses complicated English constructions such as “any amount of X which bears the same ratio to that amount as Y bears to Z.”

I propose that we use these elementary math symbols in our tax laws. To see whether this would increase the laws’ legibility, I conducted a preregistered, randomized, controlled trial involving 161 participants. One group received the actual Code, the other, a translation using math symbols. Both groups were asked to solve the same two Code-based tax problems. For the first problem, use of the translation with math symbols increased answer accuracy from 25% to 70%. For the second problem, answer accuracy increased from 11% to 50%.

This result, I argue, can be extrapolated to the broader population and to the Code as a whole, confirming the plausible intuition that math symbols would increase the understandability of the Code. I then argue that this would be a good thing, answering various objections along the way, with a particular appeal to the rule of law and the spirit of democracy. People ought to be able to understand the laws that govern them.

When an employer violates minimum wage and overtime laws, the Fair Labor Standards Act (FLSA) empowers a worker to bring a collective action on behalf of themselves and their affected coworkers. As an early step in such suits, courts authorize notice to the plaintiff’s coworkers so that they can join the litigation. However, employers increasingly require workers, as a condition of employment, to agree to arbitrate such claims and waive the right to sue in court under the FLSA. Courts in several circuits have begun to go along with employers who have pointed to alleged arbitration agreements as a reason the court should not notify a plaintiff’s coworkers of an ongoing suit. This Note explains that courts should reject this reasoning and argues that preventing workers—even those purportedly bound to arbitration—from learning of a collective action is contrary to the goals of the FLSA and the Supreme Court’s original rationale for authorizing lower courts to issue notice. Rather, notifying arbitration-bound plaintiffs of FLSA collective actions will result in more efficient and effective resolutions of lawsuits alleging minimum wage and overtime violations.

Since the end of the Civil War, courts consistently misread and under-utilized the historical sources available when interpreting the scope and meaning of the Reconstruction Amendments. Even as historians updated their understandings of Reconstruction history, the courts lagged, shackling themselves to incorrect historical accounts and outdated precedents.

Entering the twenty-first century, the Supreme Court engaged in a more thorough historical review of Reconstruction, prompting historians to question whether the Court was beginning to finally utilize Reconstruction history correctly. Students for Fair Admissions answers this question: No. This Note describes the history of the Court’s limited review of Reconstruction sources, notes the perceived shift to increased historical review in more recent cases, and outlines Students for Fair Admissions and its uniquely extensive, yet still underwhelming, review of history. Finally, and most crucially, this Note points to sources that were easily accessible to and missing from the opinions in Students for Fair Admissions to argue that the Court continues to misinterpret the meaning of the Fourteenth Amendment through a flawed approach to Reconstruction history.

Rule 17(c) of the Federal Rules of Criminal Procedure governs the ability of parties in a federal criminal case to discover material from one another and from nonparties prior to or during trial. The language of Rule 17(c) itself is broad and allows for any subpoenas to be issued so long as they are not “unreasonable or oppressive.” Yet, the Supreme Court, in two cases, Bowman Dairy Co. v. United States and United States v. Nixon, substantially narrowed the applicability of the Rule, such that— absent affirmative showings of admissibility, relevance, and specificity for all material sought—parties are not entitled to discovery. While this high bar for discovery does not create major issues for the prosecution, which has already conducted sweeping discovery during the grand jury process, the defense is left at the mercy of the Nixon standard and its requisite, near-insurmountable showings to obtain subpoenas. While some have critiqued the current system of federal criminal discovery, few have focused on the best way to reform that system, without overturning any Supreme Court precedent. And the literature that has proposed reforms to the criminal discovery system has concentrated on altering the text of Rule 17 itself. This Note instead advocates for a court-driven approach to reform and, in doing so, argues that this solution is preferable to Rule reform when one weighs speed and clarity. This Note proposes a novel approach to Rule 17(c) jurisprudence and the defense discovery system by providing historical context for Nixon and elucidating the due process and compulsory process concerns with this legal regime, ultimately recommending that courts use different standards of evaluation depending on the target of the subpoena—be it an opposing party, a nonparty, or the President of the United States.

Since the 1950s, the major American labor unions have pursued a strategy of cooperation rather than competition. Under Article XX of the AFL-CIO Constitution and similar “no-raid” agreements, unions may not encroach on one another’s established collective bargaining relationships. Some labor scholars have argued that these agreements likely harm unionized workers by diminishing union officials’ incentives to lower dues payments, innovate, or otherwise provide the best possible services for their members. To varying degrees, scholars have also blamed the long-term decline in private-sector union membership on a lack of competitive pressure.

This Note analyzes Article XX and similar agreements from an antitrust perspective, analogizing them to anticompetitive market-division agreements. Unlike prior antitrust analyses of labor unions—which focus on the welfare of end consumers—I view workers as consumers of labor unions’ services and consider only their welfare as relevant. Counterarguments based on union democracy and labor history have some merit, but the current status quo of zero antitrust enforcement seems difficult to justify when, in most industries, an agreement like Article XX could be considered illegal per se.

The federal antitrust agencies and classes of unionized workers might be able to challenge these agreements under the Sherman Act. Although labor’s statutory exemption from the antitrust laws is sometimes said to generally protect “self- interest[ed]” union activities, a preliminary reading of the text and legislative history shows that the exemption might not protect activities that demonstrably harm workers. Although courts have not directly confronted the issue, at least some of the case law is compatible with this interpretation. In such cases, courts should balance any evidence of anticompetitive harm against evidence of benefits to workers, including benefits that are not normally cognizable in antitrust such as increased union density.

This Note is not intended to downplay the uphill battle that unions currently face nor to argue that interunion rivalry is always desirable. Nonetheless, I am confident that targeted and careful application of the antitrust laws in specific markets could help increase the dynamism of organized labor and make unionization look like a better bet for unorganized workers.

Synchronization (sync) licenses are required for works in which music is synchronized to video and generally have high transaction costs because they must be individually negotiated. Traditionally, sync licenses were obtained by sophisticated parties for movies, television, commercials, and the like. But digital platforms like TikTok have brought sync licenses from obscurity into the hands of every person with a smartphone.

This transformative innovation has created new issues for copyright law. First, user- generated content (UGC) created by individuals and shared on the internet via social media platforms or websites may require sync licenses that are cumbersome to negotiate and overinclusive. Private agreements between platforms like TikTok and record labels and publishers usually fill the gap, allowing most users to play music with their videos free from concern about copyright infringement. However, these licenses do not account for copyright’s fundamental balance between access and exclusivity because they are overinclusive: Some content on TikTok may be covered by the doctrine of fair use, in which case no license is required. Fair use is an affirmative defense to copyright infringement that permits the defendant to use the copyrighted work without paying the rightsholder.

Second, TikTok’s agreements with labels and publishers could be eroding fair use. The ex-post nature of fair use means that risk-averse parties, when confronted by a situation in which the viability of their claim is unclear, are likely to obtain a license not required by law. This in turn can narrow the scope of fair use because the existence of an active licensing market makes it less likely that a court will find a use is fair. Future parties then become less likely to rely on an increasingly dubious fair use defense. In the TikTok context, doctrine about fair use and sync is especially uncertain. The scant precedent in UGC fair use cases appears to be highly fact-dependent, there are few cases that specifically deal with sync rights, and none of those have decided fair use as applied to sync.

This Note proposes a blanket, compulsory license for noncommercial UGC sync as an imperfect solution to help correct the balance of copyright in the digital platform era. The compulsory license would return review of public copyright law back to Congress and courts and prevent private ordering from curtailing fair use. Further, valuable creativity would be protected because rightsholders would not be able to withhold permission for use of copyrighted material.

Sovereign immunity statutes set the boundaries of liability for tortious conduct by state government actors. Legislatures can shield state entities and agents from liability for a wide range of tortious conduct. They can even—as some states have—waive immunity to the extent of liability insurance coverage. These restrictive statutory immunity schemes can facilitate discretion and prevent the overdeterrence of helpful conduct. But by preventing state courts from hearing certain claims of tortious conduct, such schemes effectively leave injured plaintiffs in the lurch and future misconduct undeterred. This Note argues that legislatures should allow courts more leeway to set the standard of care for state government tortfeasors. Stripping courts of their capacity to adjudicate cases of garden-variety misconduct by government actors is misguided. By applying the “public duty doctrine”—a default rule that the government owes no general duty of care in tort to the public at large—courts can negotiate the interests that animate restrictive sovereign immunity statutes. This court-centered approach would fill gaps in civil damages liability under federal constitutional law that otherwise leave government negligence unremedied and undeterred. Moreover, it would let courts adapt the common law to define the scope of the government’s duties to the public.

Most-favored-nation (MFN) provisions have formed the center of a jurisdictional dispute that has plagued international arbitration for the past two decades. Since the Maffezini decision in 2000, holding that MFN clauses can be used to import jurisdictional provisions, the international arbitral system has seen a long succession of inconsistent and irreconcilable arbitral decisions, some following Maffezini’s approach and others rejecting it. The result is a jurisdictional crisis in international arbitration that has consumed opposing parties’ time and money, undermined the international arbitral system’s legitimacy, and called into question the very reasons for the system’s existence.

However, a glimmer of hope has emerged: A new variety of MFN clauses has begun to appear that explicitly specify that they do not apply to procedural issues. Despite their potential to solve one of international arbitration’s most intractable problems, these jurisdiction-limiting MFN clauses have largely escaped serious analysis. This Note fills this gap in scholarship by providing the first academic analysis focused exclusively on these new jurisdiction-limiting provisions, analyzing the trend towards the increased use of these provisions, the form the provisions take, their reception in arbitrated cases, and the implications that these provisions carry.

The United States federal income tax contains a flaw: Because it reaches capital gains only after a “realization” event, it permits owners of highly appreciated assets to defer their tax liability by holding them and refusing to sell. Worse yet, easily available debt allows those owners to consume from their “unrealized” gains while continuing to defer tax. As Professor Edward McCaffery identified in 2012, consumption and deferral through secured borrowing, coupled with the stepped-up basis death benefit from section 1014 of the Internal Revenue Code, create an opportunity for individuals to avoid lifetime income tax and net estate tax. This strategy, known as “buy/borrow/ die,” contributes to consumption inequality and, by extension, America’s growing wealth inequality.

In the tax literature, buy/borrow/die has served as a helpful hook for supporters of wealth taxes, mark-to-market income taxes, and the repeal of section 1014’s stepped-up basis provision. But these three solutions merit some pragmatic concern, on the grounds that they are (to varying degrees) possibly unconstitutional, likely to be repealed, or publicly unpopular. Recognizing those practical obstacles should steer policymakers toward an incremental second-best solution: treating borrowing against appreciated collateral as a realization event. Embracing a “realization at borrowing” policy would reduce the availability of buy/borrow/die as a tax reduction strategy while sidestepping the hurdles that other proposed solutions must clear.

In the summer of 2021, a small, previously unknown hedge fund named Engine No. 1 did the unthinkable. Despite owning less than 0.0016% of the company’s stock, Engine No. 1 elected three independent directors to the board of ExxonMobil on a platform of lowering Exxon’s greenhouse gas emissions and investing in renewable energy. Engine No. 1’s successful proxy battle at the country’s largest oil and gas company came after years of efforts by some of its largest shareholders to push the company in this direction, and it succeeded only because of the support of these large institutional shareholders. This case study highlights the powerful role that activist campaigns play in corporate democracy: Motivated by the prospect of outsized returns, hedge funds like Engine No. 1 are among the few players capable of mounting effective challenges to incumbent management at publicly traded companies. Although commentators have written about this dynamic, no scholarship has yet focused on the significant second-order effects that hedge fund activism can have on issues like climate change.

In October 2023, the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) adopted a new rule to shorten the Schedule 13D filing window under the Williams Act from ten days to five. Although justified as necessary given the technological advances that have occurred since the Act’s passage in 1968, shortening the filing window makes it more difficult for activists to engage in campaigns at publicly traded companies, thereby diminishing the power of the only actors within the world of corporate democracy capable of pushing management to respond to shareholder preferences and tipping the balance of power towards management. Thankfully, the Commission is not without options to address this difficulty. This Note proposes that the SEC create a new filing—Schedule 13I—which would permit activists who are not seeking control, but merely influence over corporate policy, the full ten-day filing window. Doing so is well within the Commission’s statutory authority. Indeed, given the dramatic shifts in the corporate governance landscape that have occurred since the passage of the Williams Act, and the fact that the Act was explicitly envisioned as favoring neither management nor activists, creating this new filing Schedule would help regain the balance which Congress so carefully set when it passed the Act, thus achieving a regulatory structure more in line with its purpose. At a time when the functioning of corporate democracy implicates both value-creation and the satisfaction of shareholder preferences on the defining issues of our era, the Commission must consider changes to invigorate corporate democracy.

Over the last few years, numerous states and school boards have passed laws aimed at limiting curricula related to diverse communities. Anti-Critical Race Theory and “Don’t Say Gay” laws have threatened to restrict the teaching of race and LGBTQ issues in K-12 schools. These laws are troubling from a policy standpoint because inclusive curricula ensure that students receive a proper education and are taught in a supportive school environment. They are also likely an infringement upon a student’s First Amendment right to receive information, first recognized in Board of Education v. Pico, and, as such, courts have begun to entertain constitutional claims against curricular restrictions. However, there is no binding precedent on this issue, and the circuits are split as to what standard they should use when addressing these challenges.

This Note argues that courts should follow the approach developed by the Ninth Circuit in Arce v. Douglas. Courts should extend Pico beyond its library context to hold that students have a First Amendment right to receive information in the curriculum they are taught. In evaluating whether a curriculum decision violates this right, courts should apply the standard laid out in Hazelwood School District v. Kuhlmeier: Courts should first require that state and local educational bodies justify that their curriculum restriction decisions were motivated by a “legitimate pedagogical concern” and courts should then inquire if such restrictions are “reasonably related” to that concern. This standard properly respects the deference states and localities are due in educational matters, while protecting students’ constitutional free speech rights. The standard also follows basic requirements of constitutional law: requiring justifications, reasonableness in those justifications, and proper process.

The American criminal justice system is exceptional, characterized by uniquely high sentences and uniquely large numbers of incarcerated individuals. This regime is perpetuated by a political system that fetishizes Americans’ short-term pushes for increased punitiveness when crime rates increase. Drawing on political process and representation reinforcement theories, this Note argues for a novel statutory solution that would help place a brake on retributive short-term preferences, while prioritizing criminal statutes that would challenge mass incarceration. This Note posits that by adopting state budgetary laws that mirror PAYGO budgetary rules and statutes, state legislatures can control the spiraling costs of administering local prison systems without jeopardizing legislators’ political futures. Criminal sentencing PAYGO, like Minnesota’s famous sentencing guidelines, would force policymakers to view criminal sentencing as a complete system, requiring tradeoffs and compromises. Through criminal sentencing PAYGO, states and their citizens can realize democratic and criminal justice administrative gains.

Assisted reproductive technology (ART), which encompasses fertility treatments in which eggs or embryos are handled, is a frontier of family law and reproductive justice, and developments in abortion jurisprudence may shape its borders. Abortion restrictions and other laws regulating pregnant people are often framed with rhetoric emphasizing fetal personhood or fetal rights. Now that abortion is legally unshielded from criminalization, the consequences of Dobbs will reach, as did fetal-personhood laws before, even those who are not seeking abortions. As commentators have observed, this collateral damage threatens to touch potential parents seeking to use ART. Yet so far, the most abortion-restrictive states tend to carve out protections for ART from their laws regarding fetuses. This Note argues that states touting fetal personhood protect ART users—while persecuting people who partake in a multitude of other types of conduct thought to harm fetuses—because ART furthers the creation of white, affluent families that suit these states’ normative values. Fetal personhood, then, is a tool for social control. Advocates of reproductive freedom should surface this truth in efforts to stave off the proliferation of fetal-personhood laws at the state and federal levels.

The United States pays half-a-trillion dollars to defense contractors every year. Although the U.S. military could not operate without profitable contractors, excessively profitable contracts reduce manufacturing output and can imperil soldier safety. Stretching back to the founding, there is a long history of the executive branch compelling ex post modifications of military contracts to a lower price than the parties agreed to at signing. Sometimes authorized by Congress (but not always), this executive practice of “downward revisions” has fallen into disuse. Nevertheless, at least one statute might authorize this practice today: Public Law 85-804. Commonly understood to provide higher payments to defense contractors, this Note argues that Public Law 85-804 should be interpreted in light of its text and history to authorize downward revisions to excessively profitable defense contracts. Such an interpretation could save soldiers’ lives and lower defense costs during today’s challenging fiscal and geopolitical times.

Climate change is here. Anthropogenic warming is currently increasing temperatures, the devastation of storms, and the incidence of droughts. If humanity continues on its current path, the next fifty years will see millions die due to extreme weather events, along with a drastic increase in the number of climate refugees seeking haven. In the face of this crisis, government inaction at all levels has fueled the flames. Private actors and state and municipal governments have stepped into the breach, bringing suits against polluters for the harms to their localities and citizens. The challenge that this Note seeks to address is how to take these dire predictions of the future, and damages of the present, and translate them into workable, reliable legal evidence that can be used in a court of law. While most courts have declined to allow suits to proceed on threshold questions, they will soon have to deal with scientific evidence of climate change as these suits grow more numerous and the plaintiffs more resourceful.

This Note serves as a plea to judges to approach climate modeling methods in the same way they approach comparable types of evidence. Under Federal Rule of Evidence 702, climate science should be admissible as sufficiently reliable, by a preponderance of the evidence. Climate science exists somewhere between pure science and specialized expert knowledge, due to the subjective nature of the discipline. While climate science may not be seen as sufficiently “scientific,” if climate scientists are considered a group of experts, the discipline should easily pass muster under lower court interpretations of the Supreme Court’s Kumho Tire decision. By comparing climate science to criminal forensic methods, the case for admissibility becomes obvious. Thus, if judges take their roles seriously as neutral, consistent referees of justice, the admissibility of climate science should not be a serious hurdle for plaintiffs.

In the early days of our Republic, federal judges explicitly relied on general law—an unwritten set of gap-filling principles—to drive their decisions. This practice ceased after Erie Railroad Co. v. Tompkins, in which the Supreme Court formally abandoned the concept of general law. But the current Supreme Court, with its emphasis on originalism, has revived general law by interpreting several constitutional provisions as codifying the general law of the Founders. To determine the content of the Founders’ general law, it conducts an inchoate version of the general law analyses of the past: It surveys a large corpus of legal and historical sources from multiple jurisdictions, none of which are authoritative, and from them distills a general principle which provides the rule of decision in the case at hand. The Court’s sub-silentio adoption of the general law analytic method is troubling for originalists and non-originalists alike.

This Note has three basic aims, all of which are novel contributions. First, it delineates the precise methodology used by seventeenth- and eighteenth-century judges to determine the content of the general law. Second, through careful study of Second Amendment and Confrontation Clause jurisprudence, it recognizes the deep similarities between the historical and modern originalist general law analytic processes. And third, it outlines the practical difficulties and internal tensions that arise from the Court’s originalist revival of general law.

Plastic pollution is a pervasive and growing problem. Plastic products pose significant risks to public health and the environment throughout their lifecycle—from production and consumption to disposal or recycling. In response, the Earth Island Institute, a California-based non-profit environmental group, filed a novel lawsuit in 2020. Earth Island alleges that several major plastic product producers created a public nuisance with their products in California. While Earth Island’s case is still pending, it represents the frontier of using public nuisance law to address mass harms.

Drawing on lessons from public nuisance cases against the opioids industry and fossil fuel producers, this Note comprehensively considers how public nuisance liability for plastic pollution would work in theory and in practice. Two possible framings of today’s “public plastic nuisance” are the negative effects of plastic pollution on (1) public waterways and lands and (2) the public’s access to clean air and water. Both framings are consistent with historical and traditional conceptions of public nuisance law. This Note explains how public nuisance claims based on these framings would be viable in another state facing the widespread effects of plastic pollution: New York.

In the absence of comprehensive regulation of plastic products throughout their lifecycle, public and private litigants both can and should use the “public plastic nuisance” theory. Litigation offers an avenue for holding the plastic industry accountable for pollution related to their products. Moreover, the prospect of public nuisance liability could pressure the plastic industry to change its business practices for the benefit of public health and the environment. Earth Island’s case should therefore provide a roadmap and foundation for future plastics litigation.

For nearly sixty years, litigants have challenged congressional and state redistricting maps, raising claims of partisan gerrymandering. Each time, the Supreme Court would hear and reject the challenge but continued to entertain the possibility that a claim of partisan gerrymandering could succeed. Then, in 2019, the Court in Rucho v. Common Cause took the dramatic step of holding that claims of partisan gerrymandering were nonjusticiable political questions. This both walked federal courts out of the picture and signaled the Court’s tacit approval of gerrymandering. The decision came down at a time when gerrymandering was at an all-time high—in 2020, only 7.5% of the seats in the House of Representatives were “competitive.” Now, despite clear attempts by lawmakers to subvert democracy through partisan gerrymandering, federal courts can no longer police district maps for partisan imbalance. Though some states have created independent redistricting commissions to draw district maps, these commissions are neither common enough nor strong enough to withstand political tendencies to gerrymander.

Time and time again, litigants and scholars have searched for (and failed to find) a substantive standard by which partisan gerrymandering claims might succeed. This Note offers a new approach, grounded in classic legal principles: process instead of substance. Identifying both normative reasons for why process can better protect against partisan gerrymandering and highlighting instances in certain states where bolstering and, crucially, enforcing the processes by which district maps are drawn has helped mitigate gerrymandering, this Note argues that states (and litigants) should turn to process-based arguments to counter gerrymandered maps. Through process, states can strengthen their redistricting procedures and commissions, allowing for the creation of more balanced, competitive maps. Democracy hinges on competitive elections, and we need solutions to the problem of partisan gerrymandering; this Note offers a new framing of the problem and a path forward.

Unlike in most other industrialized democracies, in the United States, most elections—at the federal, state, and local levels—are conducted using the plurality voting system, also known as first-past-the-post (FPTP) voting. As a number of scholars and advocates have argued, there is an alternative voting system, well suited to American democratic traditions, that would provide for proportional representation: the single transferable vote (STV). This Note focuses primarily on state and local elections, arguing that the courts should both endorse the use of STV in these elections as constitutional and adopt STV in state and local elections as a remedy for a variety of legal harms.

A person is killed by law enforcement. There’s outrage. Hurt communities cry for reform. Things change on the margin. People move on. And the story repeats.

Every year, hundreds of individuals die at the hands of police officers despite repeated attempts at reform. This senseless cycle has caused many to question the efficacy of reform in favor of a more revolutionary proposal—police abolition.

Police abolition is a worthy and necessary ambition, but one that needs practical steps to achieve it. To that end, this Note excavates the history of failed attempts at police reform and finds a nugget of hope among the wreckage—The Jurisdiction-Stripping Consent Decree.

The Jurisdiction Stripping Consent Decree reimagines police litigation through the lens of abolitionism by using existing tools at the disposal of the Department of Justice to force police departments to reduce their domain of power in society through court-enforced consent decrees.

By engaging in radical civil rights litigation through non-reformist reforms of police departments’ most invidious abuses, the Jurisdiction-Stripping Consent Decree can put America on a viable path towards police abolition.

The relationship between policing and automobiles is long and complicated. Law enforcement’s ability to stop and search a vehicle comprises a distinct line of Fourth Amendment jurisprudence. But searching a vehicle no longer means what it did even twenty years ago. Today, automobiles collect data on us from when we open the car door to the moment we turn off the engine. Much of this information is retained in an automobile’s hardware and funneled to third party companies, who can share at their discretion. Law enforcement agencies have made use of auto data, obtaining it without a warrant both by extracting auto data from the vehicle itself and by contacting the companies collecting the data firsthand to ask that they share the information. The constitutionality of such a practice may seem up for debate, given the disagreements among lower courts over how auto data fits into a larger web of Fourth Amendment jurisprudence. This Note brings together two strands of Fourth Amendment case law—the automobile exception and the third-party doctrine—and argues that an animating principle motivating the Supreme Court’s recent digital search cases provides a clear answer to the auto data confusion: Police need a warrant before they can access auto data, because auto data, much like cellphones and cell site location information, reveals automatically collected diaristic information.

Under Rule 23(a) of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure, a class action must meet four requirements before it can be certified: numerosity, commonality, typicality, and adequacy of representation. But courts infer an antecedent requirement to these four—that of ascertainability, the idea that the court must be able to define the class as an entity that exists prior to allowing it to litigate on behalf of absent parties. While the idea behind this requirement is uncontroversial (surely, a court should ensure that a class exists prior to certifying one), the Third Circuit has staked out an unusually stringent, atextual position, requiring that a putative class present an “administratively feasible” method for identifying its members prior to certification. That requirement, nowhere present in the text or purpose of Rule 23, presents a near-insurmountable barrier to small-dollar consumer class actions, thus undermining the intent of Rule 23 to ensure that such claims can be pursued. Despite predictions that the Third Circuit would back down from its position, and despite at least five circuits’ explicit rejection of the heightened ascertainability requirement, the Supreme Court has yet to weigh in on this glaring rift in class action jurisprudence. After the Eleventh Circuit’s 2021 rejection of the heightened requirement, the time is ripe to once again ask whether this outlier position is defensible.

By examining dozens of cases that apply the ascertainability standard, both within and without circuits that endorse the heightened requirement, this Note affirms that ascertainability in its current form is a scattershot cudgel that undermines small-dollar consumer class actions. Across several factors newly identified by this Note that figure prominently in ascertainability analyses, the requirement adds nothing but inconsistency to the class certification analysis. This Note endorses the position that, absent Supreme Court intervention, an amendment to Rule 23 clarifying that the class must merely be defined objectively would both rectify the circuit split and restore the Rule 23 inquiry to its textual and policy roots: to ensure that small-dollar claims, too little in value to pursue independently but no less meritorious, can be maintained.

Bankruptcies now dominate mass-tort litigation. Defendants file for bankruptcy because the class action and multi-district litigation devices have failed to deliver parties meaningful finality, and new legal tools—nondebtor releases, complex claims-processing schemes, and the Texas Two-Step—have made bankruptcy a more attractive forum for resolving mass-tort liabilities. Troublingly, litigants, courts, and scholars struggle to consistently evaluate a reorganization plan’s legitimacy. This Note takes a novel approach, arguing federal preclusion law and due process principles of exit, voice, and loyalty provide the best framework for evaluating a mass-tort bankruptcy. Bankruptcy resolutions are generally “otherwise consistent” with due process because they substitute claimants’ exit rights for voice rights. Whether a reorganization plan violates due process depends not on the formal legal tools mass-tort debtors deploy but on whether those tools infringe upon claimants’ voice rights or undermine aggregate litigation’s core goals of finality and equitable redress. This Note concludes that bankruptcy remains a valuable forum for resolving complex mass-tort crises and identifies several cases that can guide future stakeholders.

The role of stare decisis in constitutional law is a ubiquitous one. It shows up almost everywhere, leaving controversy and chaos in its wake. Yet despite the prominence of stare decisis, its jurisprudence remains perpetually unsettled. The Supreme Court identifies several factors that affect the strength of prior precedent. However, these factors are not consistently defined or even wholly agreed upon. How can something as crucial as the law of stare decisis have such scattered precedents? Something more, something deeper, is going on here. A hint of this deeper issue comes out in contentious cases like Payne v. Tennessee, Planned Parenthood v. Casey, and Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, where the Justices speak to or acknowledge democratic disagreement and its effect on the Supreme Court’s legitimacy. But to understand these cases as the Court simply confronting its own legitimacy, while partly correct, is much too narrow. A closer inspection of these opinions reveals more than just a simple debate about democratic disagreement. It is a debate about what role democratic disagreement should play in stare decisis and, therefore, in the Supreme Court as an institution. Thus, it is no wonder that stare decisis, as a doctrine, is unsettled. Stare decisis has become the battleground for America’s oldest contest: departmentalism or judicial supremacy.

This Note argues that stare decisis is much better understood when one analyzes the doctrine in connection with the broader discussions surrounding departmentalism and judicial supremacy. In doing so, this Note develops in three Parts. Part I examines the necessary background of stare decisis and its relationship to interbranch conflict. Part II surveys the three cases of Payne, Casey, and Dobbs, paying particular attention to how the Justices in these cases are, in truth, guided by their views of departmentalism or judicial supremacy. Part III further highlights the relationship between disputes over stare decisis and departmentalism versus judicial supremacy and provides the reader with a potential theoretical framework to explicitly incorporate the concept of departmentalism within precedent. Departmentalism and judicial supremacy will forever be negotiated. Ultimately, in stare decisis, a home has been found for this great American debate.

Autonomous vehicles are now driving people around in cities from San Francisco to Phoenix. But how to regulate the safety risks from these autonomous driving systems (ADS) remains uncertain. While state tort law has traditionally played a fundamental role in controlling car crash risks, this Note argues that the development of novel data tracking and simulation tools by the ADS industry has led to a regulatory paradigm shift: By leveraging these tools for regulatory analysis, the federal National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) could iteratively adapt and improve its regulatory standards after each crash. While many scholars have advanced proposals for how state products liability can adapt to ADS crashes, this Note is the first to propose such a model of “crash-adaptive regulation” for NHTSA and to show that this model will prove superior to tort liability in controlling ADS crash risks. In presenting this new regulatory model, this Note engages with two rich theoretical debates. First, it compares the efficacy of tort liability and agency regulation in controlling ADS crash risks. Second, it evaluates whether ADS safety standards should be set at the federal level or at the state level. It concludes that ADS’ technical characteristics call for an agency regulatory scheme at the federal level and urges NHTSA to build the technological and operational expertise necessary to operate a crash-adaptive regulatory regime.

The National Labor Relations Board (NLRB or Board) is charged with enforcing the keystone statute of U.S. labor law, the National Labor Relations Act (NLRA or Act), including its prohibition against employers’ firing workers in retaliation for union organizing. In a time of rising labor agitation, however, the NLRB’s procedures for remediating such alarmingly frequent discharges are woefully inadequate. This Note examines the perennially underutilized section 10(j) of the NLRA, which provides for injunctive relief in discriminatory discharge cases where the Board’s own slow-moving administrative procedures would defeat the purpose of the Act, and explains why current 10(j) procedures are plagued by delay and failure. It then proposes an alternative administrative procedure for 10(j) cases—including a delegation of prosecutorial discretion, quick evidentiary hearings, and review of Administrative Law Judge determinations by the Board—that would address many of the section’s shortcomings. The Note considers the salutary consequences of implementing this alternative procedure through notice and comment rulemaking before concluding by demonstrating how this procedure would enhance the Board’s enforcement of the Act. Ultimately this Note argues that section 10(j) can, through long-overdue procedural reform, become a robust guarantee of the statutory rights of workers that are at the heart of the NLRB.

More than a decade ago, the Supreme Court discarded its old notice pleading standard and replaced it with a “plausibility” standard in the landmark cases Bell Atlantic v. Twombly and Ashcroft v. Iqbal. A deluge of commentary followed, much of it critical of either the perceived informational imbalance that the standard created or the broad discretion that the decisions were understood to grant to district court judges. This Note identifies a pattern that appears to be emerging in the lower courts in which parties can satisfy their pleading burden by relying in part on “institutional facts”—that is, findings made by competent entities that implicate the factual allegations in the complaint. This Note argues that, as a matter of doctrine, this practice has yet to be recognized, but it should be applauded and encouraged as both intuitive and judicially tractable.

Torres v. Madrid is a seminal Supreme Court decision that was decided during the 2021 Supreme Court term. Torres centered on whether a woman who was shot in the back by the police but managed to escape was seized under the Fourth Amendment. This was a decision that garnered widespread attention because it was decided during a national reckoning with police violence following the George Floyd protests. The Court ultimately held that Ms. Torres was seized the instant the bullet punctured her body. This was a win for the civil rights groups as it allowed Ms. Torres to pursue a remedy, but the decision did not go far enough. This Note focuses on a special class of seizures called attempted and “touchless” seizures, and argues that recognizing both attempted and touchless seizures under the Fourth Amendment will open the door to redressing a broader range of police misconduct.

Within the literature on legal scholarship, academics have studied citation practices. For example, scholars have examined which authors, journals, and articles are most cited. But no one has examined which parts of articles scholars cite. Understanding which parts of articles scholars cite is not only intrinsically interesting, but also could inform how authors structure articles. This Note presents the results of a unique, hand-coded dataset of thousands of pinpoint citations. In brief: Authors are more likely to cite the beginning of articles but split their remaining citations roughly evenly. This pattern holds across flagship journals of variously ranked law schools and articles of varying length, but it is less pronounced for self-citation. While cynical explanations—that cite-worthy content is concentrated at the beginning, or authors tend not to thoroughly read the articles they cite—of the data is possible, a better explanation serves as a modest rebuttal to certain criticisms of legal scholarship.

While the Violence Against Women Act (VAWA) has long been venerated as a major legislative victory for those subjected to sexual and gender-based violence (S/GBV), VAWA is less often understood as the funding boon that it is for police, prosecutors, and prisons. A growing literature on the harms of carceral feminism has shown that VAWA has never ensured the safety of Black and Brown women; queer, trans, and gender-nonconforming people; sex workers; drug users; poor, working class, homeless, and housing insecure people; migrants; and others who do not fit the “everywoman” archetype; nor has it recognized their right to protect themselves from violence.

I contribute to this literature in three ways: First, drawing from the rich narrative traditions of critical race theory and critical legal studies, I tell untold and undertold stories of state violence against victims of S/GBV. Second, I weave together knowledge produced by scholars across disciplines, as well as by transformative justice organizers and practitioners, to situate my illustrations in a landscape of carceral violence. Third, I build on the written work of those scholars, organizers, and practitioners to propose transformative justice approaches to S/GBV. Specifically, I propose that we use VAWA to meet the demand that all criminalized survivors be freed by incentivizing the expanded use of state executives’ clemency powers, as well as by expanding the use of clemency at the federal level. I also argue that an anti-carceral VAWA must include financial reparations for criminalized survivors, as compensation for the harms that the state has inflicted on them through unjust prosecutions and imprisonment, as well as for the violence they have been forced to endure in prisons, jails, and the custody of police officers.

Courts cannot predict the future, but their decisions are binding precedent on future generations. Technological changes—that courts could have never predicted—break down this system of stare decisis. What made sense yesterday no longer makes sense today. Leveraging an understanding of technology, the rule of law, and stare decisis, this Note proposes a new approach to copyright fair use decisionmaking that involves utility-expanding technologies, or tools that radically change the use of and access to copyrighted works. When applying past precedent, courts should carefully contextualize prior decisions’ analyses of the first and fourth fair use factors within the precedent’s time and perform a similar analysis for the current case in the current era. The more that the factual circumstances diverge between the two cases, the less weight the court should give to the past precedent. Moreover, when generating precedent on utility-expanding transformative fair uses, courts should narrow their fair use decisions to the dispute before the court and only rule on the specific technology in question—helping ensure that the balance between advancing technological interests and protecting the rights of content creators does not become rooted in shortsighted thinking from a materially different past.

Public law, specifically constitutional due process law and administrative law, operates against a background presumption of no liability for omissions. To state the inverse, the majority rule is that liability applies only in the case of affirmative government actions. While this was not always the case, following DeShaney v. Winnebago County Department of Social Services and Heckler v. Chaney in the 1980s, the Court has generally closed off plaintiffs from litigating government failures-to-act. Scholars have pointed at the philosophical absurdity of delineating government acts and omissions, given that in a state as regulated as ours, everything is, at bottom, an affirmative choice. But the federal judiciary has remained fairly unmoved. Against this overriding presumption of no omissions liability, however, the courts have eked out several exceptions in which they are willing to find liability for inaction. While scholars have pointed to reasons why the judiciary has been reluctant to find liability for omissions, this Note looks at why the judiciary has been willing to find liability in certain cases. It identifies the overarching reason to be administrability, motivated by two characteristics that the court either creates or constructs. First, when the court identifies or constructs an affirmative component of an omission, it is more willing to find liability. Second, when there is an ex ante regulation or statute limiting government discretion, the court is similarly persuadable. This Note identifies seven categories across public law that fall into these two areas and in which omissions liability (at least in some way) exists: state-created danger doctrine, special relationships, Monell liability, a blurred line between procedural and substantive due process, abdication of agency statutory duties, failure to perform ministerial duties, and a refusal to initiate rulemaking. As its final contribution, this Note argues that scholars, litigants, and courts should seek to broaden public omissions liability, given that society is plagued with protracted crises resulting from government inaction. Relying on the proxies for administrability that the courts are already comfortable with, the final Part marries administrability with accountability and creates broader categories for each exception to tackle contemporary ills.

This Note argues that the Supreme Court has recently created a subsidized equality right in the Free Exercise Clause—by perceiving previously constitutional state action as discrimination against religion—and that this right’s logic is inconsistent with how the Court articulated funding rights in the abortion context prior to its decision in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization. This Note’s goal is two-fold. First, it will explain the legal principle driving the change in Free Exercise Clause doctrine: an energized equality. Although the expanding anti-discrimination principle is having transformative effects in the law of religious exemptions, this Note’s primary aim is to explore the implications of this change in the religious funding context, as much public commentary already has focused on legal developments in the former category. This Note’s second goal is to demonstrate how the Court’s articulation and application of this energized equality principle in religious funding cases reflect its political prioritization of free exercise rights. In these cases, on the basis of religious equality, the Court is willing to recognize violations of free exercise rights, whereas in nearly identical factual scenarios not explicitly involving religion, it is blind to inequality. This Note focuses on abortion funding pre-Dobbs as an example to demonstrate this logical inconsistency.

In the American criminal justice system, individuals from marginalized communities
routinely face longer terms and greater rates of incarceration compared to their
nonmarginalized counterparts. Because the literature on mass incarceration and
sentencing disparities has largely focused on the experiences of Black and Hispanic
individuals, far less attention has been paid to the overincarceration of Native peoples.
Yet there are clear indications that Native peoples are both overrepresented
within the criminal justice system and subject to unique sentencing disparities as
compared to other ethnicities. While these issues are partly motivated by traditional
drivers of criminal behavior, including access barriers to housing, employment, and
education, this Note argues that there is a greater systemic issue at play: the
enduring legacy of colonialism. Accounting for—and correcting—this legacy in the
criminal justice system is a complex task, though not an impossible one. For
example, over the past twenty years, the Canadian criminal justice system has
implemented a novel, remedial sentencing approach to address the overincarceration
of Aboriginal offenders: the Gladue approach. Recognizing the extent to
which the Canadian legal system has failed to account for the unique needs, experiences,
and circumstances of Aboriginal offenders, the Gladue approach mandates
an individualized and contextualized approach to sentencing, one which prioritizes
community-based alternatives to incarceration and emphasizes restorative justice.
This Note proposes two legal pathways by which to transplant the Gladue
approach to the American criminal justice system. In so doing, it offers the first
comprehensive analysis of the normative and constitutional implications of
applying the Gladue approach to the sentencing of Native peoples within the
United States. While the approach has challenges and shortcomings, it is nevertheless
a powerful tool by which the American criminal justice system can begin to
reckon with its colonial past and present.

One of the things courts across the nation struggled with throughout the COVID-19
pandemic was the conflict between preserving defendants’ rights under the
Confrontation Clause of the Sixth Amendment and implementing the safest public
health measures. Measures like masking or virtual testimony recommended by
public health officials threatened to abridge defendants’ rights. This Note has two
primary contentions. First, it will argue that the wide variation in the ways courts
chose to resolve this tension revealed a fundamental issue in our Confrontation
Clause jurisprudence: Courts have never actually defined the underlying right. In
fact, this Note will argue, that the “confrontation right” is more appropriately
understood as a bundle of distinct rights which must be carefully prioritized.
Second, this Note will argue that the standards used to adopt these modifications
were insufficiently rigorous. It proposes, therefore, that it is time for the legislature
to intervene as they have in other situations involving modified confrontation, and
to provide courts with a structured procedure for authorizing modified witness testimony
during times of emergency.

Green industrial policy, an aspirational headline with the 2019 Green New Deal
Resolution, has continued to gain steam and take shape. Green industry was a core
focus of presidential platforms during the 2020 election. Federal agencies have
demonstrated an increased willingness to revamp their purchasing power—that is,
their procurement policy—to buy green products and stimulate emerging green
industrial sectors. In general, these policy shifts toward green industry typically tout
three primary goals: to develop the domestic manufacturing base and to strengthen
both environmental and labor protections. For instance, in November 2021, as part
of the larger Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act, Congress took aim at the
failure of supply chains to meet adequate environmental and labor standards by
enacting a domestic content preference-scheme for infrastructure programs
receiving federal financial assistance. The nationalist orientation of this kind of
policy, however, often runs afoul of the nondiscrimination spirit of World Trade
Organization disciplines.

This Note evaluates how trade disciplines can enable a green-industrial strategy in
government procurement while abiding by WTO disciplines, offering a few options.
While countries continue to aggressively deploy green industrial policies to attain
environmental benefits, these strategies must be carefully structured to avoid cooptation
by populist, protectionist goals. As such, this Note considers the implications
that arise when this form of green industrial procurement supports the advancement
of global welfare—and when it does not. In particular, this Note explores how
refining the traditional relationship between international trade rules and green industrial initiatives can produce mutually beneficial results. On the one hand,
trade rules can be interpreted to permit environmental and labor-conscious decisionmaking while protecting against protectionist discrimination. On the other, this
Note proposes that procurement decisionmaking should incorporate supply-chain
disclosure or cost-accounting of environmental and labor impact, which, when justified
under the existing public morals discipline in WTO trade agreements, forms a
method of government engagement that can enable a more robust international
trade regime.

This Note describes how the tax system treats inmates, an intersection that has
been relatively understudied by both tax and criminal justice scholars. The Note
provides a detailed account of how inmates earn income through prison labor
(what goes in) and the benefits denied to inmates (what comes out, or rather what
often does not come out). The Note then asks why the tax system denies inmates
Earned Income Tax Credit (EITC) and Social Security benefits. Traditional tax
principles of equity, efficiency, and administrability do not justify the denials. This
Note argues that the underlying culprit is that the tax system is being used to levy
additional punishment on inmates. This has particularly insidious effects on communities
of color given the connections between mass incarceration, poverty, and
race. The Note proposes statutory repeal of the benefits exclusions and mandatory
filing for inmates as a way of making the tax system better reflect the economic and
social realities that inmates face, while simultaneously moving the system closer to
fundamental tax principles.

Beginning in the late twentieth century, the Supreme Court gradually restricted the
range of punishments that could be imposed on children convicted of crimes. The
seminal cases Graham v. Florida, Miller v. Alabama, and Montgomery v.
Louisiana banned the imposition of mandatory life without parole sentences on
children who were under eighteen at the time of an offense and held that those
juveniles must be given a “meaningful opportunity to obtain release based on
demonstrated maturity and rehabilitation.” Some courts have extended the logic of
these cases to invalidate life with parole sentences based on extremely long parole
ineligibility periods, but no court has held that the practical unavailability of release
within the current parole system makes any life sentence—regardless of its parole
ineligibility period—functionally equivalent to life without parole.

Building on recent scholarship about the constitutional role of parole release in
juvenile sentencing, this Note points out that the Graham trilogy creates a substantive
Eighth Amendment right for juveniles to be released upon a showing of
maturity and rehabilitation, not merely a right to be considered for release. This
Note exposes the failure of state parole systems to vindicate this right by systematically
refusing to grant parole to juveniles. Because release on parole is a statistical
improbability for juveniles sentenced to life with parole, this Note concludes that
those sentences are actually unconstitutional sentences of de facto juvenile life
without parole.

In 2020, the Department of Education issued a final Rule pursuant to notice-and-comment rulemaking which created the most far-reaching regulation on sexual harassment in educational institutions under Title IX to date. This Rule significantly limited the availability of administrative remedies for those experiencing sexual harassment in their educational institutions. While much has been said regarding the propriety of the substantive policy decisions advanced by the Department’s regulation, relatively little attention has been paid to the cost-benefit analysis (CBA) employed in the Rule. The Rule’s CBA found that the regulations would result in a net cost of tens of millions of dollars. In justifying their commitment to these cost-unjustified regulations, the Department relied only on a few non-quantified benefits. To make matters worse, the Department also disclaimed any responsibility to consider whether the Rule’s deregulatory policies would leave sexual harassment under-deterred. The 2020 Rule was arbitrary and capricious by reason of its faulty CBA. The Department’s failure to consider the costs associated with the Rule’s under-deterrent effects was an abrogation of their obligation to uphold Title IX’s preventative purpose.

The search doctrine has long been in a state of disarray. Fragmented into different sub-doctrines, Fourth Amendment standards of constitutional protection vary based on how the government acquires the information in question and on how courts define the search that occurred. As trespass-based searches, reasonable expectation of privacy searches, consent-based searches, third-party searches, and private searches each trigger different levels of protection, the doctrine has become what more than one Justice has termed a “crazy quilt.” This Note argues that unriddling the Fourth Amendment is easier than it might appear with the aid of the concept of knowing exposure, first discussed in Katz v. United States. An undercurrent across different strands of the search doctrine, the knowing exposure principle holds that what one “knowingly exposes to the public” is beyond the scope of Fourth Amendment protection. As the Court grapples with the search doc- trine in an age of unprecedented exposure to third parties, most recently in Carpenter v. United States, it should seek to unify the standard for searches around the foundational question of what renders one’s exposure “knowing.” Turning to Carpenter’s modifications to the third-party doctrine, this Note suggests a unified theory of knowing exposure that can apply across different kinds of searches, centering on whether the exposure is (1) knowing, (2) voluntary, and (3) reasonable.

A specter is haunting The Hague—the specter of American federalism. On July 2, 2019, the Hague Conference on Private International Law finalized the Hague Judgments Convention. The Convention seeks to establish a global floor for judgment recognition and promote seamless recognition and enforcement of judgments between signatories. Although virtually all observers in the United States recognize the value and importance of ratifying the Convention, stakeholders cannot agree on how to implement it: by federal statute or by uniform state law. Proponents of a so-called “cooperative federalism” approach to implementation, principally led by the Uniform Law Commission (ULC), have previously derailed U.S. ratification of the Hague Convention on Choice of Court Agreements (COCA) by insisting that principles of federalism required implementation through uniform state law. This argument is wrong as a matter of doctrine and policy. It is time to put it to rest once and for all.

This Note is the first piece of scholarship to squarely address the “cooperative federalism” argument as applied to the Hague Judgments Convention. It makes two principal arguments. First, it identifies the principles that ought to guide the implementation of a treaty on foreign judgments recognition and concludes that federal implementing legislation optimizes these interests. Implementation primarily by
uniform state law is inferior and poses serious disadvantages. Second, the ULC’s primary legal objection to the implementation proposal for the COCA outlined by the State Department—that the doctrine of Erie Railroad Co. v. Tompkins prohibits federal courts sitting in diversity jurisdiction from applying federal rules of decision prescribed by federal statute—was meritless in 2012, and it is meritless now. If any objections remain to implementing the Judgments Convention by federal statute, they are about turf and ideology. To the extent that the relevant stakeholders want to accommodate those political objections, this Note concludes by briefly outlining areas for compromise.

Supreme Court “companion cases” are decisions released on the exact same day that address substantially similar legal or factual matters. The list of consequential Supreme Court decisions that the Justices have resolved as part of a set of companion cases is lengthy: It includes NLRB v. Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp., Korematsu v. United States, Brown v. Board of Education, Terry v. Ohio, Roe v. Wade, Miller v. California, and Gregg v. Georgia. Although it is not surprising that important topics like civil rights and abortion generate significant amounts of litigation, the Supreme Court’s practice of conducting plenary review of multiple similar cases and issuing separate decisions resolving each one should give us pause. The Justices have a number of other procedural tools available for disposing of similar matters for which parties seek review. Options include granting certiorari for only one of the cases, vacating and remanding some of the matters, issuing at least one summary disposition, consolidating the cases, or releasing the decisions at very different times. The Court sidesteps these alternative approaches when it issues companion cases. Yet previous scholars have not devoted adequate attention to this practice as a distinct procedural mechanism, with unique characteristics that may motivate its usage. This Note fills that gap by studying some of the Court’s most famous companion cases and taxonomizing them into four categories—coordinate hedges, contested hedges, extensional reinforcements, and applicative reinforcements—based on factors including the voting behavior of the Justices and the constitutive decisions’ relationships to each other. The Note leverages that taxonomy to frame its analysis of why the Court chose to issue companion cases given all the procedural alternatives. This Note concludes by discussing how the practice of deciding certain sorts of companion cases—in which a majority of the Justices agree that they should resolve similar cases in ostensibly contradictory ways—may improve the Court’s legitimacy by accentuating its responsibility and capacity to collaboratively identify subtle distinctions between comparable cases that compel different outcomes.

In the tempestuous process of defining communities of interest for legislative redistricting—a process that will inevitably spark disagreement, dissatisfaction, and dissent—deferring boundary-setting to a physical, objective metric established by a community itself would appear to be a safe harbor, insulating line-drawers from criticism. The eruv—a physical structure encircling a Jewish community which
allows observant Jews to carry items outside the home on Shabbat—presents redistricters with an attractive way to craft districts that give political voice to the Jewish community. However, this Note argues that rather than serving as a safe harbor, this use of the eruv in redistricting presents a constitutional hazard, as it may run afoul of the Establishment Clause. The Supreme Court’s Establishment Clause jurisprudence clearly forbids a state from “delegat[ing] its civic authority to a group chosen according to a religious criterion.” The use of an eruv as a basis for redistricting, this Note argues, is precisely such a delegation: The state delegates its power to determine the boundaries of a community and the resultant district lines to religious authorities and a religious community, bucking the neutrality commanded by the Establishment Clause. While the precise shape of a particular district and the inputs leading to its creation will determine the presence of an Establishment Clause violation, the potential for such a violation in the case of eruv-based districts—and the concomitant potential for the politicization of religion and increased political division—has heretofore gone unnoticed.

In Matter of Thomas & Thompson, former Attorney General William Barr argued that states have no role to play in immigration matters and thus, state adjustments to a criminal sentence post-conviction will not be given effect for adjudicating deportability based on criminal grounds under section 101(a)(48)(B) of the Immigration and Nationality Act without an underlying substantive or procedural flaw in the original criminal case. The former Attorney General incorrectly assumed that states cannot be involved in immigration decisionmaking. Not only is it constitutionally permissible for the federal government to delegate certain immigration powers to the states, but the immigration code does so in many places. Careful examination of the text and legislative history of section 101(a)(48)(B) reveals that whatever sentence the state deems operative counts for immigration purposes—even if state law considers the operative sentence a later adjustment—implying that Matter of Thomas & Thompson put forth an erroneous interpretation.

Despite its critical importance, the fulfillment of the human right to water is far from the reality for many today. One in three people do not have access to safe drinking water and more than half of the world’s population does not have access to safe sanitation. Achieving the international community’s commitment of universal access to safe water and sanitation by 2030 would cost states approximately$150 billion per year. Meeting those funding needs inevitably entails private, and often foreign, investment. When investments do not go as planned, foreign investors may turn to international arbitration for relief. While intended to protect investments, this legal regime has allowed investors to challenge regulatory measures that further human rights and to wield undue power over states. This Note analyzes investment-treaty disputes involving drinking water to understand how states have invoked, and tribunals have considered, the human right to water. The cases show an important evolution on the part of tribunals. Nevertheless, almost all of the tribunals fall short of integrating the human right to water in their analysis of substantive treaty claims. Interestingly, the cases also reveal that, despite invoking human rights defenses, states engage in actions that are difficult to justify as furthering the right to water. In turn, this Note argues that the “fair and equitable treatment” standard can and should include relevant human rights law as part of “investors’ legitimate expectations.” Such an integration creates opportunities for accountability on both sides of the ledger: Investors are expected to engage in human rights legal due diligence, and states are taken to task when they invoke human rights in a perfunctory fashion. The fair and equitable treatment standard presents an opportunity to expand fairness and equity in international arbitration not only for the disputing parties, but also for the people who stand to lose from their actions.

The Double Jeopardy Clause of the Fifth Amendment provides that no person shall “be subject for the same offence to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb.” Yet the dual sovereignty doctrine, a longstanding rule of judicial interpretation, reads the Double Jeopardy Clause as applying only to prosecutions by a single sovereign. Successive prosecutions by separate sovereigns, including the United States and foreign nations, do not implicate double jeopardy. The Double Jeopardy Clause protects the individual from government overreach, but the dual sovereignty doctrine flips the script: It protects the interests of the sovereign at the expense of the individual. After many decades of criticism, the Supreme Court reconsidered and then reaffirmed the doctrine in Gamble v. United States. The current blanket rule solves one problem—the fear that sovereign interests will be thwarted by other sovereigns—but creates another: an incentive for two sovereigns to join up to evade constitutional requirements. In the shadow of the dual sovereignty rule, lower courts have articulated an exception where one sovereign manipulates another or uses it as a “sham” or a “cover” for its own aims. Without further guidance from the Supreme Court, however, courts are reluctant to find the exception to apply.

This Note offers a new approach to inter-sovereign successive prosecutions that would reconcile these two doctrinal threads and provide greater protection to defendants at the mercy of multiple sovereigns: application of the strict scrutiny standard. Courts should embrace the complexity of inter-sovereign prosecutions, which can range from situations of obstruction, where successive prosecution may be necessary, to manipulation, where it should be prohibited. Genuine protection of the right against double jeopardy demands strict scrutiny.