Volume 96, Number 1

Each year, millions of Americans rely on public defenders to fulfill their Sixth
Amendment right to counsel. Despite being the linchpin of the criminal justice
system, public defense remains both underfunded and understudied. This Article
provides empirical analysis to contribute to a critical question: How should public
defender systems be structured?

Criminal justice advocates, scholars, and the American Bar Association strongly favor
vertical representation in public defense. Under this model, a single public defender
represents a defendant throughout their case, from their initial appearance through
sentencing. The alternative approach—horizontal representation—operates like an
assembly line: Different attorneys handle each stage of a case, from preliminary
hearings to pretrial conferences to trials. The preference for vertical representation
stems from the intuitive belief that continuity of representation improves outcomes
for defendants. However, no prior empirical work has tested this assumption.

Using a natural experiment created by the Defender Association of Philadelphia’s
transition from a fully horizontal representation system to a partially vertical one, we
find no evidence that increasing attorney continuity through a vertical representation
system improves defendant outcomes.

These findings have significant implications for how public defender offices should
allocate their scarce resources. While vertical representation is considered by many to
be the ideal, our results cast doubt on whether the additional resources and logistical
challenges relative to horizontal representation are justified given the current reality
of underfunded public defense. As jurisdictions nationwide grapple with a chronic
lack of resources for public defense, this article provides crucial empirical evidence
to inform decisions about how best to uphold defendants’ Sixth Amendment right
to counsel.

Fast-growing startups in search of capital and liquidity have traditionally sought to
exit the private capital market through M&A or IPO. Until recently, antitrust enforcers
rarely challenged startup acquisitions. But under the Biden administration, enforcers
worried about the growing dominance of Big Tech sued to block more startup deals.
Since antitrust restricts M&A but not IPOs, one might expect that greater antitrust
enforcement would cause startups to substitute one kind of exit for another, leading
to more IPOs. That did not happen. While M&A and IPOs both provide liquidity,
they are not perfect substitutes. We model heterogeneity in M&A and IPO pricing
to explore how increased antitrust enforcement impacts venture capital. Economies
of scale and scope, synergies, regulatory costs, market power, and market cyclicality
can cause IPO valuations to fall significantly below M&A prices. And heightened
antitrust scrutiny can reduce the value of an IPO by undermining one of its main
advantages: access to publicly traded equity that can be used as currency for future
acquisitions.

In this Article, we show how startups have responded to the antitrust crackdown not
by choosing a different exit but by choosing no exit. Startups are easing liquidity
pressure by letting employees cash out their shares in tender offers. Venture capitalists
are extending their exit horizons by forming continuation funds. Would-be acquirers
have developed new structures to evade antitrust law, such as the centaur—a private
company funded by public company cash flows—and the reverse acquihire—a mass
employee exodus from a startup to a public tech company, coupled with a cloaked
payoff to the startup’s investors. We explain the implications of these changes for
competition policy, capital formation, and the continuing erosion of transparency
into socially important businesses.

Today, civilians can participate in war as never before. Through smartphones and
the internet, civilians can now contribute directly to military operations, whether they
are in an active conflict zone or on the other side of the globe. A civilian can, for
example, use an app to help military forces intercept threats, join a virtual network of
volunteers that conduct cyberoperations against a party to an armed conflict, or use
a crowdfunding site to donate funds to provide weapons to combatants. We call this
revolution in war fighting “Crowdsourced War.” This Article identifies this growing
phenomenon, demonstrates how it creates extraordinary new risks for civilians, and
recommends critical steps that States like the United States must take to address those
risks.

In the wake of the September 11, 2001, attacks on the United States, new interpretations
of the law governing armed conflict took shape. Applying these new interpretations
to Crowdsourced War, this Article shows how civilians today may unknowingly
forfeit their protected status and be regarded as legitimate military objectives under
international law. Civilians participating in Crowdsourced War not only unwittingly
endanger themselves, they also endanger civilians living and working alongside them.
The spread of Crowdsourced War can also lead combatants to suspect all civilians of
being participants in war—and thus lawful targets.

To address these problems, we argue it is time to adopt new rules for Crowdsourced
War. States, including the United States, should revisit broad interpretations of the
law first adopted for a different kind of conflict—interpretations that now make vast
numbers of civilians newly vulnerable. States must also take greater responsibility
when they invite civilians to participate in Crowdsourced War, including by
ensuring that they do not put civilians at unnecessary risk and by informing them
of the consequences they may face. Finally, international humanitarian law must be
revised to account for this sea change in the way wars are fought. The International
Committee for the Red Cross, together with States like the United States that are
committed to the rule of law, should renew efforts to tighten standards for targeting
civilians. This is necessary to ensure that the era of Crowdsourced War does not
become the era in which the distinction between civilian and combatant completely
evaporates.

Much of education law scholarship on school segregation has focused on majority-minority schools. Yet school segregation does not occur only in majority-minority schools, but also in so-called integrated schools: majority-white and Latine schools in which Black children are in the minority. What we know about segregation in these schools focuses on tracking, the practice of segregating Black students in classrooms according to ability, which has deleterious effects on Black children in schools where they are the minority. Outside of tracking, we have few firsthand accounts of integrated schools’ effects on these students.

In this Article, I present data obtained from in-depth interviews with ninety-five Black students and fifty Black parents. These students and parents moved from majority-Black schools to schools in which they were in the minority seeking the perceived academic benefits of an integrated school. Yet, integration and achieving better educational outcomes concern more than simple racial demographics of schools. In these interviews, students identify another avenue of in-school segregation: school policing. Black students in these integrated schools experience pervasive surveillance and punishment by school police in collaboration with other school officials. Rather than feeling truly integrated, these students feel both marginalized and unsafe in ways that undermine the academic benefits that integration is supposed to produce.

This Article does not merely contend that Black students are policed irrespective of the racial demographics of their schools. It also argues that scholars, policymakers, and lawyers need to be more attentive to student experiences in order to explicate how formally integrated institutions can nonetheless serve as domains of racial segregation. Policing affects schools’ institutional culture, reducing the benefits that were supposed to accompany racial integration. This reality suggests that the project of racial integration for Black students, a project that Brown v. Board of Education launched more than seventy years ago, may be even more illusory than we generally understand.

This Article develops a new framework for thinking about the place of race in Contracts. It argues that culture and context work in tandem in the form of “cultural scripts” to weave racial associations into texts where race is not explicitly identified. This suggests that the impact and influence of race in Contracts might have as much to do with the racialized stories that we tell about our consumer and commercial lives as it does with the racial identity of litigants.

To make this argument, this Article reconstructs the afterlives of one of Contracts’ most well-known cases, Williams v. Walker-Thomas Furniture Co. (1965). The case, now the foundation of unconscionability doctrine, pits Ora Lee Williams, a mother of seven living on welfare, against an exploitative furniture company. Although Williams’s race was not confirmed until 1997, students and teachers long before (and since) assumed that she was Black. This assumption stemmed from the ways in which casebooks talked about and framed Williams.

The Race Case in Contracts undertakes the first systematic analysis of Contracts casebooks—129 in total—to show how “cultural scripts” about urban poverty and welfare mothers tethered Williams to ideas about race generally, and Blackness specifically. In other words, stories told about and around Ora Lee Williams mattered as much as, if not more than, the fact of her racial identity. Williams illustrates that if we do not speak directly on the role of race in Contracts, these stories might speak for us.

In 2023, the Department of Justice published its first-ever report on demographic disparities in revocations of community supervision, a critical yet under-studied part of the federal criminal justice system. The report revealed extreme and systematic disparities affecting American Indian defendants. Compared to other groups, American Indians were more likely to have their supervision revoked, more likely to be revoked for non-criminal technical violations, and more likely to be sentenced to additional supervision after revocation. Although the report acknowledged these disparities, it did little to explain them.

In this Article, I provide the first legal analysis of community supervision in Indian Country, identifying three unique features that may contribute to higher rates of revocation for American Indian defendants. First, the federal government is the primary prosecutor of violent crimes in Indian Country, which creates a population of defendants who are more likely to have their supervision revoked. Second, American Indians tend to live in rural areas, where complying with the conditions of supervision is more difficult. Finally, the federal supervision system reflects a legacy of conquest that continues to reenact past episodes of discrimination, displacement, and destruction.

To reform Indian Country supervision, I argue that the federal government should recognize the inherent authority of Indian tribes to supervise tribal members living in tribal territory. Community supervision is a core part of tribal sovereignty, because it is not just a form of punishment, but also a vehicle for important social services. Recently, tribal governments have developed their own formal supervision programs that both incorporate tribal values and send fewer people to prison. By following the principles of tribal governance, community cohesion, and cultural respect, federal probation officials can promote better outcomes for Indian defendants and fuller autonomy for Indian tribes.

Public company boards of directors have opened up a new front in their longstanding battle with hedge fund activists by rewriting the procedural rules governing board elections. Many boards now require shareholders to make long and complicated sets of disclosures in order to nominate candidates for board elections. These disclosure requirements—contained in advance notice bylaws (ANBs)—have come under fire in the Delaware courts for being drafted so expansively that they seem like “tripwires” intended to protect incumbents against even the possibility of a proxy contest.

In this paper, I analyze modern ANBs, drawing insights from a new dataset consisting of over 14,000 full sets of bylaws filed by more than 3,800 U.S. public companies from 2004 to 2023. During this time, ANBs have become longer and more complex market-wide, and variation in disclosure requirements across firms has increased. Additionally, firms with relatively few disclosure provisions have tended to add more provisions if they are targeted by an activist. These changes in drafting practice may have significant effects on corporate governance. When ANBs are long and complex with ambiguous requirements, it is more costly for activists to launch proxy contests, and boards are more insulated from outside pressure. This reduction in accountability is likely more severe for small firms and firms with high agency costs. However, modern ANBs also provide the benefit of filtering out campaigns by unsophisticated activists and bad actors.

Legal reforms could reduce the costs associated with modern ANBs without eliminating their benefits. These include (1) requiring shareholders to approve ANB amendments, (2) requiring companies to give activists time to cure deficient nomination notices, and (3) allowing shareholders to facially challenge ANBs under an “overbreadth” theory. Recent efforts by shareholders also suggest that private ordering may curb some of the effects of modern ANBs without outside intervention.

We often assume that there is one administrative state, with one body of administrative law that governs it. In fact, the administrative state has two distinct faces: one turned toward regulation and benefits distribution, and one turned toward physical force and surveillance. The two faces are growing further apart under the Roberts Court, which has hemmed in the first face with decisions like Loper Bright while showing solicitude for national security and law enforcement agencies.

This Article delineates the two faces of the administrative state. It provides a descriptive account of the second face and the distinctive administrative law that governs it. While first-face administrative law demands delegated authority, transparent justification, and democratic collaboration, second-face administrative law allows agencies to operate without specific grants of power, to process knowledge in secret, and to control populations. Second-face administrative law inverts the ordinary norms of first-face administrative law. And where the first face drives legal and political conflict, the second face enjoys relative consensus.

Bringing the second face into view qualifies talk of an ongoing “attack” on the administrative state. It calls attention to neglected issues of enforcement, allows us to analyze how administrative law supports an interrelated set of violent state structures, and reveals that consensus support for second-face agencies is misguided. Those who seek to combat government overreach and to protect liberty and popular self- governance should turn their attention to the administrative state’s second face.

The last several years have been marked by contentious disputes about which governments represent the states of Venezuela, Libya, Yemen, Myanmar, Afghanistan, and Niger. Such disputes are far from idle curiosities—rather, they go to the core of the modern international legal order. States are the building blocks of the international legal system, but it is the consent of their governments that forms the cornerstone of international law and diplomacy. When the rightful government is contested, numerous questions emerge with enormous implications for both the states involved and the international community as a whole. Most critically, who is permitted to consent on behalf of the state—to military intervention, to treaties, to the use of state assets—or receive immunities? Who represents the state in international fora? Who is responsible for ensuring the state complies with human rights law and international humanitarian law? And what happens if different governments are recognized by different states and international organizations, as is not only possible, but common?

This Article aims to bring clarity to this debate. It begins by explaining the difference between state and government recognition. It then identifies seven important rights and responsibilities that accompany government recognition, ranging from the right to consent to military intervention to the obligation to uphold international human rights and international humanitarian law. It shows that individual states, and to a lesser extent, international organizations, are currently the primary actors in government recognition decisions. Their varying approaches to government recognition have resulted in incoherence and inconsistency that threaten to undermine international law. This Article makes the case for a new approach: granting the United Nations Credentials Committee, through the United Nations General Assembly, the power to determine the recognized government of a given state for all matters directly implicating international law. This approach would bring greater coherence to government recognition and would thereby strengthen the international legal order as a whole.

Contract law is generally understood in terms of enforcement. The legal definition of a contract is a promise that the state will enforce. Individuals are empowered by contract law to create legal arrangements that the state will step in and enforce. And yet most contracts never make it to court.

This Article inverts the conventional focus on enforcement through a study of extralegal contracts. These are formal written agreements that parties call contracts but are not intended for legal enforcement. Examples of these extralegal contracts include no-suicide contracts and contracts for sexual slavery.

Examining extralegal contracts offers multiple insights. First, this analysis sheds new light on Lon Fuller’s classic functions of contractual formalities. Second, it reveals five novel functions of these formalities: diagnostic, expressive, constitutive, mapping, and experiential. Third, it shows the relevance of empirical work in behavioral science on the so-called Question Behavior Effect to our understanding of contracting behavior.

These insights from extralegal contracts are theoretically interesting in their own right and practically relevant to our understanding of legal contracts. The Article develops an account of strategic contracting behavior across legal contexts, drawing on the novel functions and Question Behavior Effect mechanisms, specifically dramatizing the impact through contract domains where enforcement is uncertain or unlikely, including preliminary agreements, surrogacy contracts, and demands for assurances.

This Article aims to reimagine impact litigation as movement law. It does so through a case study of Floyd v. City of New York, historic litigation which successfully challenged the New York Police Department’s aggressive stop and frisk policies. It documents a seminal period in the history of policing and community resistance by providing the first insider’s account of how a vibrant police accountability movement sought to leverage class action litigation to destabilize police narratives around Black criminality and significantly curtail the NYPD’s systemic program of discriminatory street encounters. It chronicles the multidimensional ways in which the litigation fed the movement and the movement fed the litigation, and how the movement ultimately utilized newfound political power to save the historic litigation outcomes from a hostile federal appellate court.

This Article proposes a theory of change in which a reimagined impact litigation can advance movement aims beyond the inherently vulnerable pursuit of judicial rights recognition in courts of law and makes an original contribution to the literature around movement lawyering by articulating concrete and replicable strategies and tactics through which the novel concept of “impact litigation as movement law” can both challenge the power of dominant political and social institutions and build the power of individuals and movements. The analysis is informed in great part through a process of oral history, drawing on interviews of numerous (but certainly not all) critical stakeholders in the Floyd process—lawyers and organizers alike—to bring the strategy, intensity, and high stakes of this fifteen-year struggle into the broader theoretical claims I seek to make.

Specifically, this Article documents how the Floyd legal team integrated community participation and expertise into the trial to further broader organizing campaigns. And it identifies five critical power-shifting strategies in the litigation that were transformational: the power of testifying; the power of watching; the power of evidence; the power of judgment; and the power of winning. Finally, this Article is a cautionary tale about the fragility of legal judgments, and a fresh and hopeful narrative about the power of mobilized movements and conscientious lawyers to achieve and protect successful litigation outcomes. Impact litigation as movement law offers a reimagined and replicable model for future efforts to challenge dominant power structures.

The recent failures of Silicon Valley Bank and First Republic have drawn attention to how rare it is for uninsured depositors at a failed bank to bear losses. In this paper, I show that ubiquitous rescues of uninsured depositors represent a recent phenomenon dating only to 2008. For many years prior to that, uninsured depositor losses were the norm. I also show that the rise of uninsured depositor rescues has coincided with a dramatic increase in FDIC costs of resolving failed banks, which I estimate resulted in at least $45 billion in additional resolution expenses over the past fifteen years. I estimate that only $4 billion of this rise in costs is attributable to transfers to uninsured depositors, with $41 billion attributable to new inefficiencies in the resolution process.

The rise in uninsured depositor rescues has resulted from a shift by the FDIC to almost always resolve failed banks by selling them as a whole (including both insured and uninsured deposits) to an acquirer, generally with a generous subsidy provided by the FDIC. This Article also presents evidence to suggest that, despite the FDIC’s statutory mandate to use the least-cost means of protecting insured depositors of a failed bank, these whole-bank sales are frequently not the most efficient means of resolving failed banks. Next, I present evidence for two probable causes of this shift. First, during the 2008 crisis, the FDIC may have initially been forced to sell whole banks to acquirers because it lacked capacity to handle the influx of failures through other means. This may have established an institutional inertia that has maintained the practice long after the exigencies that necessitated it have cleared. Second, I suggest that the FDIC may have experienced mission creep, taking it upon itself to rescue uninsured depositors whenever possible, even though U.S. law requires the FDIC to seek authorization from the U.S. President whenever it deems it necessary to deviate from least-cost resolution methods. I show that such mission creep has occurred twice in the past, and that Congress has successfully intervened to stop it in 1951 and 1991.

Copyright law is under attack. Scholars and activists have long argued that American copyright law is a shambolic mess—vague, unpredictable, and startlingly overbroad. But amidst the swirling chaos, one core principle has remained intact: the idea that copyright attaches only to intangible goods. In theory, copyright resides in an intangible work of authorship, not a physical artifact. It is the intellectual creation, rather than the material copy, that gives rise to copyright protection. Copyright law thus rests on a stark distinction between the intellectual property of authors and the personal property of consumers—in short, between the intangible work and the physical copy.

This Article argues that the conventional wisdom is radically blinkered. It shows that, contrary to popular belief, courts increasingly struggle to separate the intangible work from its physical form. In reality, the supposed divide between the work and the copy is far less rigid, and decidedly more contested, than scholars have recognized. Judges and commentators often confuse the physical object—a biological substance, a written-down recipe, a computer program, a physical building, a living garden, a copy of a work of visual art—for the intangible work itself. The result is a thickly tangled, sometimes messy, and deeply incoherent body of law.

This Article synthesizes history, theory, and current doctrine to critically analyze these trends. It traces the roots of the intangible/physical dichotomy. It explores how twentieth-century courts navigated this distinction and demonstrates that modern courts remain sharply divided over how to define the intangible work. These disagreements reflect confusion about the kinds of objects that could be eligible for copyright protection. In the end, I argue that this confusion raises fundamental questions about the limits of our copyright system. By grappling with these questions, this Article seeks to advance a new analytical paradigm for thinking about the trajectory, coherence, and breadth of copyright law.

Despite an increasing number of critiques from many commentators—abolitionists, social scientists, and fiscal conservatives among them—mass incarceration remains an ongoing crisis. Dealing with the wreckage of carceral overreach requires not just changing policies about what gets criminalized and how offenses are punished prospectively, but also unwinding the long sentences imposed during the past half- century and still being served. Among the mechanisms for decarcerating are second look acts, which a growing number of jurisdictions have passed or are considering.

Often these resentencing tools depend heavily on decisionmakers’ exercise of discretion. In rare instances, however, that discretion is constrained. Comparing two recent New York sentencing reforms, the Domestic Violence Survivors Justice Act and the 2004–2009 Drug Law Reform Acts—the former highly discretionary and the latter with a strong presumption in favor of resentencing—this Article notes the relative success rates of each statutory scheme, finding the less discretionary regime apparently more decarceratory. Critically, the exercise of discretion imposes a significant dignitary harm on applicants, who are required to prove their believability and moral worthiness to judges deciding whether to free them. As epistemic justice theory shows, those who are incarcerated and disproportionately members of marginalized identity groups face untenably difficult odds of doing so, as they are systematically discredited. In the process of inviting a judge to exercise discretion in their favor, these petitioners are often disbelieved, and the knowledge system is subsequently impoverished by discounting of petitioners’ experiences. Thus, if resentencings are going to begin to decarcerate at the rates necessary to bring the United States into line with comparable countries, and do minimal damage in the process, resentencing reforms should be categorical or presumptive rather than discretionary.

Intellectual property law has long been the law of creation, not creators. The dominant utilitarian framework (and alternate ones like Lockean and personhood justifications) consider the creator almost exclusively by reference to their creative outputs. These innovation-first, output-maximization frameworks have increased concentration among IP firms and deepened inequality in how IP’s economic rewards are distributed among creators. The existing frameworks simply do not have much to say about such pressing issues as authorial bargaining power, wage and economic inequality in the marketplace for creative works, and intensifying corporate concentration amongst dominant IP holders. Furthermore, the existing frameworks’ almost single-minded focus on outputs no longer holds up in the age of artificial intelligence, which renders creative output instantaneous and near-infinite—while threatening to reshape the landscape of creative labor as we know it.

This Article advocates for a new, alternate framework, one that highlights how IP, much like labor law, has long acted as an allocator of rights in property and capital between individuals and firms. If IP, in practice, has acted like labor law in facilitating the transfer of work from creative laborers to dominant IP firms, then IP theory, too, should do more than focus singularly on outputs—it should also address these input-based, supply-side harms. To the extent that there have been strains of more creator-focused theories throughout the IP doctrine and literature, they have, variously, argued for creation as either a solitary act of genius or collective, democratic meaning-making. This Article purposefully uses the word “labor” in opposition to such romanticized notions: It argues instead for a framework of creation as wage labor, as both the means by which large IP firms extract their value and also, potentially, as capital’s most potent resisting force.

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.

Nearly sixty years after the passage of the Fair Housing Act (FHA), racial
segregation, housing discrimination, and consequent disparities in health and
opportunity stubbornly persist. Yet the Department of Housing and Urban
Development has made limited use of the FHA’s most powerful provision: its
mandate to affirmatively further fair housing. In recent years, new barriers
to meeting this mandate emerged. Still, affirmatively furthering fair housing
remains constitutionally viable and urgently necessary, even in the face of shifting
equal protection doctrine. This Note begins by tracing the contested meaning of
“affirmatively furthering fair housing” in the courts and executive branch. It then
examines how Students for Fair Admissions v. Harvard creates new constitutional
roadblocks to governments seeking to affirmatively further fair housing today. In
response, this Note proposes a process for crafting race-conscious policy within
the many constraints of current equal protection jurisprudence. Finally, it outlines
an application of this process to affirmatively furthering fair housing. By doing so,
this Note reaffirms the continued need for affirmatively furthering fair housing, the
continued possibility of this work in the face of constitutional changes, and specific
avenues forward for state and federal actors dedicated to building “truly integrated
and balanced living patterns.”

Flawed software costs businesses and consumers millions of dollars every year, but
existing tort law does not generally require developers to compensate others for
economic injuries caused by bad code. Discontented scholars and policy analysts
have produced an array of proposals that would force developers to pay for harms
flowing from vulnerabilities that hackers exploit to injure software users. This basic
model—which would impose a duty on developers to eliminate security-related
vulnerabilities but not other types of software flaws—dominates legislative and
academic debates about reform. This Note argues that this focus is misconceived. It
is technically ambiguous, doctrinally anomalous, and would throw national security
and consumer welfare goals into conflict. Liability proponents have focused on
it because they recognize that imposing new duties on software developers must
realistically be limited in some way. Although the vulnerability-based limitation is
ultimately misguided, this Note proposes that a party-based limitation restricting
recovery to parties in near-privity is more defensible. Focusing on party-based
limitations on duty instead of a vulnerability-based limitation would require
thinking of software development not as a product, but rather as a professional
practice subject to malpractice-like standards. This reframing, I argue, better aligns
proposals for expanding software developers’ duties with existing tort doctrine
while focusing a liability evaluation on the most important aspects of the software
development process.

In January 2024, the United States made landmark regulatory updates under the
Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) amidst
intensifying scrutiny on human remains stewardship and calls for repatriation.
Museums across the United States and United Kingdom currently hold hundreds
of thousands of human remains in their collections, many of which were acquired
through colonial exploitation, thefts of cultural heritage, grave robbing, and other
unethical acquisitions from marginalized communities. The dark history of these
collections and their perpetuation of harm to marginalized communities necessitates
improved mechanisms for human remains repatriation.

This Note examines the current state of museum human remains policies and makes
the case for improved regulations and social sanctions. Museums across the United
States and United Kingdom implement a wide range of policies for human remains
stewardship, and the analysis of four key case studies—the American Museum of
Natural History, the Denver Museum of Nature and Science, the British Museum,
and the Manchester Museum—demonstrates the need for interventions to facilitate
the return of human remains. Specifically, the learnings from these case studies
highlight the need for public pressure and improved regulations that carry concrete
mandates, are enforced, and address key regulatory gaps.

Unpaid internships in the federal government operate under a statutory and
regulatory regime unlike any other in American employment law. The Fair Labor
Standards Act (FLSA) constrains internships that are hosted by nonfederal entities.
The FLSA applies to the United States as an employer, but in practice, it has proven
almost entirely irrelevant to federal unpaid internships, which instead owe their form
to the interaction of appropriations law, the Antideficiency Act’s voluntary service
prohibition, and 5 U.S.C. § 3111, which authorizes “student volunteer” service at
federal agencies under strict, enumerated conditions.

This Note—the first comprehensive doctrinal and statutory account of federal
unpaid internships—argues that the federal government’s legal authority to host
unpaid interns is both narrower and more rigid than commonly understood. The Note
first contextualizes federal “student volunteer” programs within the broader economy
of unpaid internships, tracing the evolution of these programs and identifying how
education-based exceptions have redefined the permissible boundaries of intern labor.
It then turns to the federal sector, where legal authority to accept voluntary service
depends on a statutory scheme that expressly bars compensation and classifies interns
as non-employees for nearly all legal purposes. The Note synthesizes this landscape
into a clear legal test for when unpaid internships in federal agencies are lawful.

Yet even lawful unpaid internships present profound problems. This Note identifies
structural inequities, legal accountability gaps, and governance blind spots that
arise when federal agencies rely on unpaid student labor. Because these issues are
entrenched in federal statute, they are impervious to litigation or state-based reform.
Accordingly, this Note concludes with legislative solutions to fix a Congressionally
created quagmire that only Congress can properly fix.

Certain provisions within environmental statutes, known as emergency action provisions, provide EPA administrators with the authority to take legal action when certain forms of pollution threaten public health. Of the six most prevalent environmental statutes with emergency action provisions, five have unique requirements for coordination with state and local authorities. These coordination requirements fit within a broader spectrum in environmental law of cooperative federalism, the concept of dividing responsibilities between central and regional authorities.

Drawing from case law, legislative history, canons of interpretation, and academic commentary, this Note highlights the inconsistent coordination requirements of the emergency action provisions—leading to confusion and delay for enforcement authorities—and shows there is scant normative justification for those differences. This Note also assesses what levels of coordination between federal and regional authorities are practically beneficial for agency attorneys and public health outcomes. Ultimately, this Note recommends standardization of the emergency action provisions, through legislative, judicial, and/or executive action, to capitalize on the benefits and mitigate the challenges of cooperative federalism.

Tens of thousands of people are involuntarily confined in a hospital each year in connection with their mental illness or disability. In response to misconduct by people who are civilly committed, hospitals often call the police, setting in motion a chain of events with devastating consequences for the person who is transferred to criminal custody. Despite the frequency with which it occurs, little research has explored this phenomenon. This Note aims to shed light on the practice and expose its tension with constitutional norms, using the Court’s decisions in City of Grants Pass v. Johnson and Robinson v. California as points of departure.

The First Amendment is a well-known bulwark against a government that might use its regulatory powers to silence speech based on the viewpoint of the speaker. The government speech doctrine extended those protections to the government itself, allowing the government to adopt its own viewpoint when it speaks on its own behalf. The result of the Court’s decision to extend First Amendment protections to the government is that the government can use the First Amendment as a shield when it uses viewpoint discriminatory regulation to coerce speakers into silence. The theorists and judges who created the government speech doctrine have argued that the democratic process and the other provisions of the Constitution would be strong enough to stop the government from abusing its speech powers. This Note, however, identifies a gaping hole in their doctrinal framework where low-visibility government speech meets the ambiguity of the coercion-persuasion line. At that critical point, neither the First Amendment, nor the other provisions of the Constitution, nor the democratic process can stop the leviathan’s inclination to silence dissent.

The multidistrict litigation (MDL) process allows the nationwide consolidation of cases that share certain factual issues. Mass tort claims are often consolidated as MDLs and eventually resolved through mass settlement due to individual issues of causation and defenses that prevent class certification. Before settlement, courts and parties often select a small subset of cases to be tried in ‘bellwether trials’ that are intended to provide information about remaining claims in the MDL, including the circumstances of individual plaintiffs and the theories of liability and causation. However, due to practical limitations on the total number of cases that can be tried and the lack of common issues that predominate, bellwether trials cannot be used as a comprehensive overview of the MDL without exposing parties to the risk of inadequate settlement, which is exacerbated when cases are selected by parties. This Note proposes that the role of bellwether trials in a mass tort MDL should be limited to estimation of the settlement amount, and that the cases should be a representative sample selected through statistical methods. Through a scheme that combines simulation with random and stratified sampling, bellwether trials can provide litigants with a high-quality estimate of the total settlement value, which can in turn be allocated among plaintiffs according to extraneous information obtained outside the courts.

In Türkiye Halk Bankasi A.S. v. United States, the Supreme Court reviewed the Second Circuit’s holding that the passage of the Foreign Sovereign Immunities Act (FSIA) abrogated any immunity from prosecution that foreign sovereigns may have previously enjoyed under the federal common law. The Court reversed, holding that the FSIA is inapplicable in the criminal context and, therefore, left the federal common law of sovereign immunity from prosecution undisturbed. The Court’s reasoning, however, did not explicitly draw upon or elucidate the doctrine of federal common law displacement. It is possible that the Court chose not to engage with this doctrine because its underlying case law has thus far failed to supply a clear, consistent, and administrable standard for federal common law displacement. Recent appellate decisions concerning the federal common law of foreign sovereign immunity illustrate the need for doctrinal reform.

This Note advocates the adoption of a different method for analyzing federal common law displacement disputes, drawing upon an analogy to the better defined and familiar doctrine of state law preemption. Specifically, I argue that statutes may either “expressly displace,” “conflict displace,” or “field displace” the federal common law, categories which I define by reference to express, conflict, and field preemption. I contend that this framework, although never formally endorsed in so many words by any federal court, is already immanent in the Supreme Court’s case law and the scholarly literature. Using Türkiye Halk Bankasi as a case study, I illustrate how the Court could have applied this framework to reach the same result while providing courts and litigants with a more structured approach for future federal common law displacement controversies.

Central banks like the European Central Bank (ECB) have started incorporating climate change considerations into their monetary policy tools. This Note refers to this phenomenon as green monetary policy (GMP). Given the crucial role of central banks and other monetary authorities in bank supervision and regulation, GMP has emerged as a solution to tackle the continued financing of fossil fuels and industries that have accelerated climate change. Among central banks, the ECB has emerged as a leader in GMP. However, the United States Federal Reserve Board (the Fed) has signaled a refusal to engage in any climate policymaking, including GMP. This paper argues that the Fed should follow the ECB by implementing GMP, given the central banks’ similar structure, general tools of monetary policy, and monetary policy-related goals. Although the Fed, unlike the ECB, does not have a secondary mandate to support general economic policies including environmental and climate-related goals, the Fed and the ECB are both mandated to promote price stability and act as a supervisor of financial risk. This Note analyzes the implications of the potential implementation of GMP by the Fed, comparing it to the ECB’s GMP, structure, and statutory mandates. It also explores key concerns and counterarguments in the literature against Fed implementation of GMP, which deal with independence, accountability, and mission creep. Despite these concerns, the Fed should continue to research climate change’s impact on macroeconomic stability and apply climate change considerations in its collateral policy, as the ECB has already done.

The Eighth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution bans “cruel and unusual” punishment. Historically, the Amendment’s protection has limited the use of the death penalty, life without parole sentences for juveniles, and other extreme punishments. The Supreme Court’s Eighth Amendment jurisprudence has been both controversial and unpredictable. Fortunately, every state constitution has an Eighth Amendment analog, and state supreme courts have independent authority to interpret those provisions as they see fit. State constitutions are therefore an alternative avenue for defining what constitutes unconstitutional punishment, and this area of law is a uniquely suitable context for state constitutional decisions to exert influence over the development of federal constitutional doctrine. While state supreme courts have typically followed the Supreme Court’s say-so on cruel and unusual punishments, recent state constitutional decisions may indicate a shifting tide toward more robust development of state constitutional law in this area. This Note argues that the Supreme Court should strongly consider such state constitutional decisions in assessing “evolving standards of decency” under the Eighth Amendment.

Over the past few decades, the Supreme Court of the United States has adopted an exceedingly narrow view of tribal civil jurisdiction, establishing doctrines that restrict the circumstances in which Native Nations can exercise their regulatory and adjudicative powers. While most scholarship in federal Indian law has assessed this judicial trend towards tribal disempowerment by focusing on the Court’s treatment of tribal sovereignty, this Note centers the Court’s manipulation of tribal territory. It argues that the Court has constructed three territorial incongruities—non-Indian fee lands, public access, and loss of “Indian” character—to justify the disallowance of tribal authority over significant portions of tribal reservations. In so doing, the Court relies on a spatial imaginary of territorial sovereignty, or the notion that sovereign power must be commensurate with sovereign domain, to present certain spaces as falling outside of a Native Nation’s territory and, accordingly, as beyond the reach of its jurisdictional power.

By illuminating the spatial imagination of the Supreme Court, this Note identifies a key practice employed by the Court that is central to empires past and present— cartography. The Court superimposes its own imagined legal geography upon the preexisting system of territorial division, redrawing the jurisdictional boundaries that separate states and Native Nations. This practice of spatial manipulation is cartographic in that it allows the Court to determine and limit the territory of tribal rule; to expand the areal authority of state jurisdiction; and to project its particular vision of reservation lands—a vision defined by notions of ownership, accessibility, and character—upon Indian country. These cartographic tactics of territorial acquisition and control are in direct furtherance of the American colonial project. They fragment tribal regulatory regimes, reify Indigenous life, and transfer congressional power to the Court to diminish tribal reservations. These practices of fragmentation, reification, and de facto diminishment are continuations of the repudiated but never-undone federal policy of allotment, although the main perpetrator is now the Court rather than Congress.

By turning to critical legal geography and theories of space and power, this Note reveals a Supreme Court that is highly imaginative, overtly spatial, and problematically cartographic in nature, engaged in a project of colonial expansion across its tribal civil jurisdiction cases.

In this Note I undertake a historical survey of the conceptual predecessors to the Fourteenth Amendment’s Privileges or Immunities Clause, from the sixteenth century through the mid-nineteenth century. By doing so I present a different angle on the potential significance of this provision, which merits revisitation as a clause bearing meaningful judicially cognizable rights, despite its effective foreclosure under the Slaughter-House Cases. Because of the open-ended and adaptive quality of this enigmatic phrase and its preceding variants, it bore a wide range of significances over the centuries. Indeed, as this Note also demonstrates, one can trace critical moments in early American history alongside varying uses of this phrase, further indicating its previously evolutionary quality. In its earliest forms, it implied the British Crown’s support for the development of colonies in the New World, and soon thereafter, it served as a vehicle for establishing individual rights akin to those of the Magna Carta. It also generated newfound rights that provided justification for the American Revolution and was used to advance unity among the states of the new nation, especially for the sake of economic development.

In the decades prior to the Civil War, its meaning was shaped by the pressing issue of slavery. Justice Bushrod Washington’s limiting construction of the Privileges and Immunities Clause in Corfield v. Coryell, I propose, was centrally informed by the debates leading to the Missouri Compromise, in which slaveholding as a protected right under privileges and immunities was a key point of contention. Because Corfield implicitly truncated the basis for asserting a right to slaveholding via privileges and immunities, the Court in Dred Scott, dominated by Southern justices, focused on excluding access to such rights based on immutable characteristics.

The Southern preference for broad rights and narrow access, however, was definitively defeated through war. It is thus uncertain whether a historically informed meaning of the Privileges or Immunities Clause necessarily turns on the disputes in the decades immediately leading to the Fourteenth Amendment’s ratification—which would suggest a fixed and narrow construction aligned with Corfield—or whether the deeper, evolutionary history of privileges and immunities lends a meaningful gloss on the clause, counseling a broader and more expansive interpretation. The Fourteenth Amendment’s legislative history is ambiguous at best, providing fodder for both possible readings.

While confronting these uncertainties, this Note draws from a historical method not previously deployed for the purpose of grasping the fuller meaning of this constitutional provision: It undertakes a longue durée approach, accounting for the variations of this phrase’s significance across time and as affected by a dynamic multiplicity of inputs. Most claims regarding the meaning of this clause tend to pinpoint one or several moments in its long history as the “true” origin point(s). A historical sense of privileges and immunities derived through this method, however, indicates that reaching a determination on the breadth of rights conveyed through this provision entails the resolution of a close call, requiring careful sifting of historical data, perhaps paired with other constitutional principles and policy considerations.

Zoning protest petitions allow landowners representing a percentage of the land
neighboring an area proposed to be rezoned to force the local government to have to
vote by supermajority to approve the rezoning. Only landowners are entitled to file
these petitions, and their “vote” toward the percentage of neighboring land necessary
to trigger the supermajority is allocated according to the proportion of neighboring
land they own. This Note examines the history, statutory construction, and current use
of protest petition laws, which are now on the books in twenty states. It illustrates that
they formed part of the justificatory architecture of racist and classist exclusionary
zoning and Not in My Backyard-ism (NIMBYism), contributing to legal doctrine and
informal political norms that treat an entitlement to block locally unwanted activities
as a “property right” akin to a right against nuisances. Although protest petitions have
historically been rarely used, the political and legal norms of exclusionary zoning
and local control are changing. While governments work to alleviate a nationwide
housing shortage, the political climate is also characterized by the routine use of
procedural hardball in all areas of policy. There are now warning signs that protest
petitions will be increasingly used by NIMBY neighbors to “filibuster” rezonings that
would allow for the construction of needed housing. To head off this increasingly
likely possibility, this Note probes some legal avenues in federal law that might be
explored by housing affordability advocates to invalidate, weaken, or induce the
repeal of protest petition laws in all states that still have them. It explores due process
and One Person, One Vote theories, as well as the idea of using the “affirmatively
furthering” mandate of the Fair Housing Act to induce protest petition laws’ repeal.

Login.gov is America’s new nationwide Digital ID system. In its few years of existence, it is already the only way to access an increasing number of government programs, benefits, and resources. The significance of this development hides behind technical details, confidential contracts, and jargony hyphenates like “single-sign-on” and “duo-authentication.” Yet properly examined, the story of why Login.gov was created, with whose input, and with which governance goals in mind exposes both the promise and pitfalls of infrastructural projects in the digital age.

A central facet of the Login.gov infrastructure is its reliance on a notoriously extractive and inscrutable data broker, LexisNexis. LexisNexis verifies the identities of Login.gov users—often welfare applicants, veterans, and federal employees—by comparing data input by users to a vast array of records scraped from every nook and cranny of the internet. The government’s decision to partner with LexisNexis openly flouted binding privacy and security guidelines set by the government’s own science and technology experts. Moreover, this massive aggregation of personal information, though legal, goes against the best practices for government collection and use of personal data set forth in the Privacy Act of 1974.

As ineffective as the Privacy Act of 1974 is as a data privacy law in the age of online data brokers, the law nevertheless represents a substantial effort by legislators from a bygone era to set principled guidelines for how to build trustworthy, democratically sustainable information systems. By contrast, the early years of America’s first nationwide digital identity credential are characterized by unscrupulous design judgments with dangerous consequences. But it is not too late to design tomorrow’s digital infrastructure to be safer, more equitable, and more trustworthy than what we have today.

Agency delay is a pervasive problem. It occurs in a broad range of policy areas, including environmental protection, healthcare, and financial regulation. The trope of slow and inefficient government agencies has become cliché.

Statutory deadlines are one solution to the problem of agency delay. Attaching a deadline to authorize legislation seems like an obvious way to make agencies act faster. Therefore, scholars and policymakers have urged the use of statutory deadlines to spur agencies to action. They have focused on ways to more vigorously enforce statutory deadlines through negative incentives, such as hammer provisions or mandamus remedies, as well as on the effectiveness and drawbacks of negative approaches.

The current debate neglects positive incentives as another way to encourage agencies to meet deadlines. This Note argues that statutory deadlines can be a superior way of avoiding agency delay when linked to positive incentives (“carrots”) rather than negative incentives (“sticks”). The Note specifically focuses on conditional relaxation of judicial review as a promising mechanism to induce agencies to more appropriately avoid unnecessary delay. Conditional relaxation of judicial review is so promising because it accounts for the costs of litigation and judicial review in a manner that the typical negative incentives do not. This Note will review the relevant current doctrine and debate on enforcement of statutory deadlines, lay out the possible ways to attach positive incentives to statutory deadlines, and in comparing this carrot approach to deadlines to the stick approach, will show the advantages (and limitations) of positive incentives. Ultimately, the carrot approach will be most appropriate where there is a policy need for speed and when an agency faces resource constraints, though such an approach may never be appropriate when there is a strong principal-agent conflict between Congress and the relevant agency.

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.