Balkinization  

Monday, February 26, 2018

Straining (Analogies) to Make Sense of the First Amendment in Cyberspace

David Pozen



In trying to figure out how the First Amendment applies to internet search engines and social media platforms, courts and commentators have turned to somewhat anachronistic analogies. Google’s search engine compiles and transmits content supplied by third parties—and to this extent, many have pointed out, it looks like a traditional publisher. On the other hand, Google’s search engine results do not express critical curatorial judgments by Google or indicate Google’s support for their content in the manner we generally expect of publishers. Facebook’s Trending News feature ranks and disseminates stories based on algorithms created by humans—and in this sense, it looks like a newspaper editor. On the other hand, Facebook takes pains to minimize the influence of human “biases” on these algorithms and to portray itself as a neutral conduit for information.

For these and other reasons, as Heather Whitney’s new paper explains, the analogies that get drawn in these contexts are imperfect. There are significant dissimilarities as well as similarities between the things being compared. There are, moreover, other analogies that might be privileged instead: Why not compare Google and Facebook to a shopping mall, or to a public trustee, or to a company town? And still more fundamentally, there is an underlying question of whether and why the First Amendment logic of prior cases should apply to such technologies. This is a question that analogies in themselves cannot answer.

Whitney’s paper, which is being published today as the third installment in the Knight First Amendment Institute’s Emerging Threats series, deconstructs the use of the “editorial analogy,” and of analogical reasoning more generally, in First Amendment litigation and advocacy concerning some of our most powerful tech companies. Whitney does not seek to advance any particular interpretation of Google, Facebook, and the like. Rather, through careful conceptual and empirical analysis, she seeks to expose the pitfalls of relying too heavily on analogies in this area of law and thereby to shift ongoing First Amendment debates onto more solid normative ground.

Three response pieces engage with Whitney’s paper in very different ways. Eric Goldman defends the validity of the editorial analogy for Google and Facebook, but also maintains that their First Amendment rights do not depend on it to any meaningful degree. Whitney’s critique of this analogy, Goldman worries, may create space for overly aggressive or counterproductive forms of regulation.

Genevieve Lakier, in contrast, agrees with Whitney that courts have been clumsy in comparing search engines to newspapers; cable providers, Lakier suggests, are closer counterparts to the former in the contemporary public sphere. Yet Lakier disagrees with the notion that courts should therefore move away from analogies altogether. When done well, Lakier submits, analogical reasoning plays an indispensable role in guiding and constraining judicial discretion.

Finally, Frank Pasquale hails Whitney’s intervention and asks how it might be pushed further. Underpinning both First Amendment jurisprudence and public policy on large internet intermediaries, Pasquale argues, should be the principle that “free speech protections are primarily for people, and only secondarily (if at all) for software, algorithms, artificial intelligence, and platforms.” Whitney’s paper concludes by urging us to stop fixating on analogies and start paying more explicit attention to the deep normative issues at stake in our debates over search engine results and social media designs. Pasquale shows what it looks like to do just that.

Wednesday, February 21, 2018

Where Are The Fourteenth Amendment Commemorations?

Gerard N. Magliocca

A centerpiece of my new book is the first Bill of Rights Day, which marked the 150th anniversary of the ratification of the first ten amendments. It was a major national festival, including parades, public readings, a special prime-time radio show, and an address by the President.

This year we will celebrate the 150th anniversary of the ratification of the Fourteenth Amendment. What is being done to mark that momentous occasion? Not much. There is an academic conference here and there, and some civic-minded organizations are organizing events. But there will be, as far as I know, no public recognition of this anniversary. It's shameful, but not surprising.

Not long ago a student of mine discovered an interesting fact. Aside from a paper written when he was in middle school, Martin Luther King Jr. almost never mentioned the Fourteenth Amendment in his speeches or writings. The "I Have a Dream" speech refers to many American landmarks, but not to the Fourteenth Amendment. In King's era, of course, the Fourteenth Amendment was still tainted by the slander that Reconstruction Republicans were interested only in punishing the South. Today that Jim Crow history is history. Still, the Fourteenth Amendment is not getting its due.  

Monday, February 12, 2018

Symposium: Civic Education in a Time of Upheaval

Sandy Levinson

That is the title of a symposium co-organized by myself and Meira Levinson, a professor at the Harvard Graduate School of Education, that will take place at the University of Texas Law School this coming Friday and Saturday.  Friday, February 16  It will begin on Friday morning with a "summit conference" of a number of editors of leading constitutional law casebooks,  The afternoon will begin a series of panels primarily organized by Meira that focuses more explicitly on the problems presented by trying to create given classroom narratives in significantly divided societies. There is no charge for attending and lunch will be served on Friday and Saturday to those in attendance.  Public school teachers can get continuing education credit (though the Texas Bar Association.)  All of the programs will be videoed and available, in relatively short order, online.  The focus of the gathering is not the presentation of traditional academic papers, but, rather, intense discussion among a variety of extremely accomplished people who have written about and dealt with the issues presented.  

You might also note that Saturday morning will include a session specifically on the book coathored by Cynthia and Sanford Levinson, Fault Lines in the Constitution.  The entire schedule is as follows:



8:30 – 9:00 Welcome by Dean Farnsworth and Setting the Stage by Sanford Levinson
9:00 – 12:15 On "Introducing" Constitutional Law--and the Casebooks We Use to Do That. A host of editors of leading casebooks on the US Constitution will address two central questions: 1. What aspects of the Constitution should American undergraduates and/or law students be “introduced” to in 2018, given the high unlikelihood that even the law students will actually "practice" constitutional law in any capacity other than citizens? 2. What do you see as the principal point(s) of your own casebook relative to whatever answer you gave to the first question?
Each person will make a short presentation, followed by presumably intense conversation including participation by the audience. There will be a brief break around 10:30
Panelists: Josh Blackman, Erwin Chemerinsky, Richard Fallon, Mark Graber, Gary Jacobsohn, Sanford Levinson,  Mark Tushnet  Present by video:  Sam Bray, Noah Feldman
Chair: Richard Albert
Location: Sheffield-Massey Room, with overflow in TNH 2.138

1:45-2:00 Introduction to the general topic of civic education (and the remaining panels): Meira Levinson

2:00 – 3:30 Historical Perspectives. As educators and citizens try to make sense of contemporary political and ideological divisions in the United States, it can be useful to see how educators and policy makers addressed profound division and civic upheaval in the past. This panel brings together historians of education to provide perspectives and insights into prior approaches to civic education in times of upheaval.
Panelists: Jarvis Givens, Julie Reuben, Jonathan Zimmerman
Chair: Lorraine Pangle
Location: Sheffield-Massey Room, with overflow in Francis Auditorium

3:50 – 5:35 Civic Education in Divided Societies. Partisanship in the United States is at higher levels than we’ve seen in decades, and increasingly tracks other divides such as education level, income, and place of residence. Not only are we more extreme in our beliefs, therefore, but we are also more likely to be disconnected from those who have different perspectives. We are not the only country to face profound civic division, however; nor is this the first time that the United States finds itself ideologically driven. This panel brings together scholars and educators who work around the globe in deeply divided countries.
Panelists: Michelle Bellino, Thea Abu El-Haj, Michael Karayanni, Adam Strom
Chair: Michael Stoff
Location: Sheffield-Massey Room, with overflow in Francis Auditorium


Saturday, February 17
9:00 – 10:30 Teaching Civic Contestation in Schools. How can and should educators teach controversial issues in schools? This is a perennial question, but one that has heightened salience in these unsettled times. What principles and practices should guide educators’ choices about what to include in the curriculum, and what to leave out as either “too hot to handle” or inappropriate to be treated as something open to debate? How have educators tried to protect themselves or their students when investigating contested topics, and what happens when things go wrong?
Panelists: Curtis Acosta, Dafney Blanca Dabach, Diana Hess
Chair: Randall Kennedy
Location: Eidman Courtroom

10:45 – 12:15 Fault Lines in the Constitution. To the extent that the Constitution is taught in middle schools and high schools today, focus is generally placed on two areas: (1) the genius of the Framers in creating a government of divided and balanced powers, and (2) the perfection of the rights accorded to citizens, particularly those embedded in the Bill of Rights. Such anodyne and uncritical approaches to our founding document, however, diminish students' civic capacities. As the panelists will explain, celebratory approaches to teaching the Constitution are both inadequate and inaccurate. Cynthia Levinson and Sanford Levinson, authors of Fault Lines in the Constitution: The Framers, Their Fights, and the Flaws that Affect Us Today, a book for young readers, explain an alternative perspective on the Constitution, focusing on the ways that the structures of our government contribute to dysfunctionalities in American political life. In addition, an educator will provide insights into ways to make civics education more complex and comprehensive.
Panelists: Cynthia Levinson, Sanford Levinson, Aaron Hull, Katherina Payne
Moderator: Meira Levinson
Location: Eidman Courtroom

1:30 – 3:00 Schools as Civic Actors. Civic education is traditionally thought of as a subject (like math or science), a set of pedagogies (such as in-class discussion or action civics), or extracurricular learning opportunities (such as student government or debate). But schools also educate civically by modeling civic values and engagement themselves as civic actors. This can prove challenging when teachers, administrators, students, and parents are divided about what their obligations should be. Should schools create “sanctuary campuses” intended to disrupt the school-to-deportation pipeline? How should they respond when students stage school walkouts over civic and political issues, or when students who merely repeat politicians’ statements run afoul of anti-bullying laws? This session will immerse participants in case study discussions about how educators and policy makers are addressing schools’ responsibilities as civic actors in times of upheaval.
Case leaders: Meira Levinson, Jacob Fay
Location: Eidman Courtroom

3:00 Summary comments and farewells: Sandy Levinson, Meira Levinson
Location: Eidman Courtroom
RSVP Here: https://goo.gl/forms/WDIX1DNo11XwqVD93
Note: Teachers can get Continuing Education credit through the State Bar of Texas.

Sunday, February 11, 2018

What's the Deal?

David Super


     With the media awash in stories claiming that this week’s budget deal is a dramatic turning point in fiscal policy, setting out what it does and does not do seems worthwhile. 

     From a fiscal point of view, the Democrats achieved a surprisingly large increase in non-defense discretionary spending, albeit starting from a very negative base.  For the current fiscal year and the one that starts this coming fall, the agreement would erase one of the two major rounds of reductions in defense and non-defense spending that Republicans extracted in the Budget Control Act of 2011.  The full implications will not be clear until Congress passes final spending legislation next month.

     A bit of background is necessary here.  Republicans forced President Obama and congressional Democrats to agree to the Budget Control Act as the price of their agreeing to raise the debt limit.  It dramatically lowered the annual ceilings on defense and non-defense discretionary appropriations for the next ten years.  It also established a bipartisan commission to find means of achieving further deficit reduction.  The Act provided that if the commission failed to agree on a plan for further deficit reduction, or if Congress failed to enact a commission recommendation, further deep across-the-board cuts would occur automatically.  This second round of reductions to the discretionary spending caps, known as sequestration, was to cut defense and non-defense spending to a roughly equal degree. 

     President Obama’s staff argued that the threat of defense spending being sequestered would force Republicans to agree to a balanced plan of tax increases and entitlement cuts to achieve the additional savings required to prevent sequestration.  In practice, Republicans held firm to their “no new taxes” mantra, and the commission deadlocked.  When sequestration took effect, considerable chaos ensued, including huge lines at airports for security screenings. 

     Instead of prompting Congress to revoke sequestration, as some had hoped, these problems only caused Congress to shift money around to avoid the highest-profile problems.  The result has been chronic underfunding of numerous governmental functions.  Administrators cut corners and took risky chances to function with inadequate funding; when the inevitable failures caught the public’s attention, they typically were attributed to incompetence or stupidity rather than chronic underfunding.  This enabled a new round of attacks on the Obama Administration in particular and government in general.  For example, with chronic underfunding having thinned the ranks of officials performing environmental assessments, Republicans and industry have complained (with little empirical support) that these reviews are holding up important projects and must be curtailed.  The real scandal of the attack in Benghazi was that protection for diplomats in war-torn areas had been cut back so severely that Ambassador Stevens could only do his job by gambling with his life. 

     The Budget Control Act’s defense cuts have been moderated consistently with “emergency” appropriations outside the caps for “Overseas Combat Operations (OCO)”.  In practice, the Pentagon has stretched the definition of what is needed to support our wars in Afghanistan and Iraq to supplement its basic operating budget.  Democrats have tried, with far less success, to achieve similar ends with proposals for “emergency” funding outside of the caps for various domestic crises. 

     The spending caps resulting from the Budget Control Act made annual appropriations bills all but impossible to enact.  The caps necessitated such low funding for domestic programs that Democrats did not want to be associated with these bills, and Republicans were uncomfortable taking sole blame for these unpopular cuts.  The House Republican Freedom Caucus and similar factions also refused to support appropriations bills, demanding ever-deeper cuts. 

     As a result, Congress has enacted a series of bipartisan agreements raising the discretionary spending caps for one or two years with the cost offset through cuts to entitlement programs and extensions of the Budget Control Act beyond its originally scheduled expiration.  This past week’s Bipartisan Budget Act of 2018 (Public Law No. 115-123) is the latest of these temporary cap-raising bills. 

     The Bipartisan Budget Act raises the caps on discretionary spending more during its two-year life than prior cap-raising agreements have.  The levels it sets for the caps fully eliminate the effects of the Budget Control Act’s sequestration cuts but not the Budget Control Act’s initial cuts to discretionary appropriations caps.  As a result, non-defense discretionary spending in the two years covered by this agreement will be 5.3% below 2010 levels adjusted for inflation and 11.0% below 2010 levels adjusted for inflation and population growth.  Previous cap-raising bills did significantly less. 

     Republicans demanded that the defense caps rise more than the non-defense caps; that did not happen to any great degree, although the OCO escape valve has made the defense caps much less onerous even before the legislation.  Republicans also demanded that the domestic spending increases, but not the defense ones, be offset with cuts to entitlement programs.  The final legislation includes a package of offsets that Republicans can claim pay for some of the non-defense spending and that Democrats can claim pay for part of both the defense and the non-defense increases.  Some of the offsets are real, some are less so, but none of them appear to be deeply destructive. 

     Left unanswered by this legislation is just how the additional spending will be allocated.  In the past, after raising the discretionary spending caps with the help of Democratic votes, Republican appropriators have shut Democrats out of the process of distributing these funds, allocating relatively little to Democrats high-priority programs, leading some to question whether the deals were worth it.  Having been burned in this manner before, Democrats surely obtained side deals about how the restored funding will be spent, but we will not see evidence of them until an omnibus appropriations act for the rest of the current fiscal year moves through Congress next month. 

     The Bipartisan Budget Act contains significant emergency funding for disaster-stricken areas, including Puerto Rico and the U.S. Virgin Islands.  This includes additional money to supplement the grossly inadequate Medicaid block grants for the island territories.  (This experience should provide a powerful warning of the dangers of proposals to block-grant other important programs nationwide.)  The Act also includes a relatively small amount of supplemental appropriations to respond to various problems, real and political, and renews funding for community health centers. 

     Finally, the Bipartisan Budget Act suspends the statutory debt limit for the remainder of this calendar year.  The debt limit serves no independent fiscal purpose and has long outlived whatever utility it might once have had.  Members of Congress who believe they can credibly threaten to refuse to raise it nonetheless have been attracted to it as a vehicle for extorting others who fear disastrous economic consequences if the limit is exceeded.  The Budget Control Act of 2011 shows just how powerful and enduring the fruits of such extortion can be. 

     Prior to the Bipartisan Budget Act, the federal government was due to breach the debt limit by mid-March.  Many or most Republicans were expected to oppose a free­standing debt limit bill, making it difficult for their leadership to bring such a bill to the floor.  Most Republicans would vote for a debt limit bill with severe spending cuts, but some would not even then and Democrats were unlikely to provide the necessary votes for such a package.  Rolling the debt limit in with legislation raising the appropriations caps offered Members of both parties a way to avoid a crisis while not casting a vote specifically on the debt limit. 

     The budget deal does not include any extension of Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA).  With congressional Republicans split and the President continually increasing his demands for a DACA deal, congressional Democrats simply did not have the leverage to insist on its inclusion in this package.  Polling showed that much of the electorate opposed provoking a government shutdown over DACA.  Although Democratic leaders insisted that last month’s shutdown was over other issues, so many Democrats were demanding a shutdown over DACA that the media largely ignored leaders’ denials.  Presidents Clinton and Obama managed to trigger government shutdowns purportedly over one set of issues to gain leverage over a very different set of concerns.  But it is far easier for Administrations to control public perceptions in such crises than it is for congressional parties with many voices, especially those in the minority, to speak with a unified voice.  The Democrats may have means of forcing votes on DACA, but a government shutdown is not it. 

     The big picture is that this deal is relatively small potatoes substantively.  In particular, it is almost trivial relative to the massive tax cut legislation enacted late last year:  it increases the deficit far less and is largely limited to two fiscal years (and does not change the long-term baseline).  It also moves the nation’s finances part-way back toward historic levels, in contrast to the tax bill’s movement away from historical norms.  The commentators insisting that this legislation makes the Republicans the party of spiraling deficits are one bill too late.  

Friday, February 09, 2018

We the People, or We the Voters?

Joseph Fishkin

Our Constitution, as amended, requires that every ten years the federal government reallocate seats in the House of Representatives to the states “according to their respective numbers, counting the whole number of persons.”  This provision leaves little room for interpretation.  It is part of what my colleague Sandy Levinson calls the “constitution of settlement.”  But like much of the constitution of settlement, this provision settles certain questions while leaving other closely proximate ones unsettled.  The settled part is this: We do not apportion representatives to states on the basis of how many citizens, voting age citizens, eligible voters, or registered voters the state may have.  Instead we use total population.  Under our Constitution, for purposes of congressional apportionment, we count children, non-citizens, disenfranchised felons, and all other non-voters.  If you are living in a U.S. state, and you are a person rather than a tree, you count.

This makes a huge difference.  These days, the total population rule in the Constitution moves power within Congress in a distinctly Southwesterly direction, compared to where it would be if we didn’t count all those children and non-citizens.  According to my back of the envelope calculations, if we apportioned House seats by citizen voting age population (CVAP), my state of Texas would immediately lose four seats.  California would lose five.  Those seats would go instead to states with higher CVAP-to-total-population ratios, which is another way of saying states with fewer children and fewer immigrants—states like Pennsylvania and Montana.*  This will not happen.  Congressional apportionment by CVAP is a nativist pipe dream, unambiguously unconstitutional.

That much is settled.  But, the constitutional rule does not by its express terms settle anything else.  As a matter of political practice, and in the shadow of the constitutional rule, all U.S. states sensibly use total population, as well, for drawing congressional district lines within states—and also for their own state and local iterations of apportionment and redistricting.  But conservative policy entrepreneurs have begun to challenge this practice, beginning at the state and local level.  Ed Blum, the great conservative impact-litigation impresario, brought the case of Evenwel v. Abbott to the Supreme Court in 2016, challenging Texas’ use of total population for state legislative districting.  He lost, but in a way that did not entirely resolve the question of what would happen if he had a state or local government on his side.  The next logical move will be for some jurisdiction, in 2021, to attempt to use CVAP or some other less-than-total-population measure for apportionment, drawing districts with different numbers of people, but equal numbers of “voters.”**

The argument for counting voters instead of people gains its political salience from the increasing centrality of immigration to both Republican and Democratic party politics—and the increasingly clear sense that areas with lots of children and lots if immigrants support Democrats while older areas with fewer immigrants support Republicans.  But the argument gains its conceptual and legal plausibility from a different place: the strangely undertheorized nature of virtual representation—the representation of non-voters—in modern conceptions of democracy.  Or so I argue in a new essay just posted to ssrn on “Taking Virtual Representation Seriously”; I’ll say a little more about this point after the jump.

Meanwhile, consider a seemingly separate set of current controversies with common political roots.  Census population figures do not come out of the sky; it is Congress, and political appointees in the executive branch, who ultimately determine how we conduct the count.  What if the federal government redesigned its Census in a way deliberately calculated to skew the population numbers by increasing the already-substantial undercount of non-citizens?  Would there be any legal or constitutional recourse? As I write this, there is growing controversy about the Trump administration’s proposal to add a question to the Census asking whether you are a U.S. citizen.  The controversy has focused (rightly) on the question of whether adding this question will further increase the undercounting of immigrant communities, with potentially far-reaching consequences.

What has gotten much less attention is the fact that this Census question gambit is also a move in the Evenwel chess game.  It is an effort to change the Census itself in a way that aims to lay the groundwork, in terms of data, on which some bold jurisdiction will likely make its bid in 2021 to stop worrying about counting all the people, for purposes of representation, and instead count only the ones who can vote.  There are good reasons to believe this denies non-voters the equal protection of the laws.  But to see why that could be the case requires giving some thought to the role of virtual representation in our democratic system.  More after the jump.

Read more »

Wednesday, February 07, 2018

A Constitutional Role Morality for Presidents and Members of Congress

Neil Siegel

In the contemporary United States, the conduct of members of the political branches is generally regarded as more damaging to the American constitutional system than is the behavior of the federal courts. Yet constitutional law scholarship continues to do what it has done since at least the mid-twentieth century. It continues to focus primarily on judges and judging.

In a new article, I suggest that constitutional law scholarship should develop for presidents and members of Congress what it has long advanced for judges: a role morality that imposes normative limits on the exercise of official discretion over and above strictly legal limits. The article first grounds a role morality for elected officials of the federal government in two purposes of the U.S. Constitution whose vindication requires more than compliance with legal rules: (1) securing the American conception of democracy as collective self-governance, and (2) creating a reasonably well-functioning federal government. Given its close connection to those purposes, a role morality for presidents and members of Congress is appropriately described as constitutional, not merely political.

The article then tentatively proposes some rhetorical, procedural, and substantive components of constitutional role morality. They include a commitment to consult the political opposition before taking important actions and a rebuttable presumption in favor of moderation and compromise. The article also explains how different actors in the American constitutional system should execute their professional responsibilities if they are to make it more, rather than less, likely that such a role morality will eventually be adopted and maintained.

A final part anticipates objections, including the obvious one that the vision advanced in the article faces significant implementation problems.


Sunday, February 04, 2018

The Hearings Congress Should Hold After the Nunes Memo’s Release

Deborah Pearlstein

You may be forgiven for missing the news that the Trump Administration on Friday released its Nuclear Posture Review, the statutorily required report the Defense Department submits to Congress every four years establishing U.S. nuclear policy until the next report.  The report, among other things, calls for the development of new low-yield nuclear weapons (weapons conceived by their advocates as more readily suited toward a limited, battlefield-type context); and it effectively lowers the threshold for what might provoke a U.S. nuclear strike by including cyberattacks in the list of potentially strategic threats.  Its release caps a week that saw Trump’s candidate for U.S. Ambassador to South Korea (yes, the post is still open more than a year into the presidency) – a conservative academic who served in the George W. Bush Administration – withdraw over concerns about the administration’s increasingly active consideration of a limited military strike on the North;  publish a high-profile op-ed warning that such a so-called “bloody nose” strike “would be putting at risk an American population the size of a medium-size U.S. city [the 230,000 Americans living in South Korea]… on the assumption that a crazy and undeterrable dictator will be rationally cowed by a demonstration of U.S. kinetic power”; and also saw news leak that the Pentagon was considering  changing its policy of allowing  U.S. service members deploying to South Korea (our standing force there includes about 30,000 troops) to bring their families along (an eminently reasonable and yet ominous step reflecting the profound tensions in the region).

So what does any of this have to do with the Nunes memo – other than as an example of how much more important news the Friday memo frenzy displaced?  The sweeping constitutional power over national security we have afforded presidents since the first Korean War is premised centrally on the idea that presidents – in particular their “confidential sources of information,” their “agents in the form of diplomatic, consular and other officials” (Curtiss-Wright) – have access to unique information and expertise that made empowering the presidency essential to American security.  I have written before about the dubiousness of this assumption in supporting broad presidential to use force without congressional authorization.  But as I explain below, the Korea crisis gives us a whole new set of associated constitutional problems to contemplate. For far more important than the content of the memo itself, the cover letter by White House Counsel Donald McGahn, conveying the President’s authorization for the Nunes memo’s release, is yet another object lesson in why the expertise assumption about presidential decision-making should be far more contingent than it typically is. 

The McGahn letter begins with reference to one of the cases regularly cited to establish how broad presidential power is over national security in the modern era, Dep’t of Navy v. Egan, 484 U.S. 518, 527 (1988), quoted in this letter for the proposition that: “The Constitution vests the President with the authority to protect national security secrets from disclosure. As the Supreme Court has recognized, it is the President’s responsibility to classify, declassify, and control access to information bearing on our intelligence sources and methods and national defense.”  Egan is, in this particular context, a deeply ironic case to cite. Setting aside the reality that Egan posed the rather narrow question whether a naval employee denied a security clearance had a statutory right to review of the decision by the Merit Systems Protection Board, the Court’s central rationale for ruling against a right of review was the importance in the security context of respecting expert agency discretion.  As the Court put it: “Predictive judgment of this kind must be made by those with the necessary expertise in protecting classified information. For ‘reasons . . . too obvious to call for enlarged discussion,’ the protection of classified information must be committed to the broad discretion of the agency responsible.” 

Here, of course, every relevant agency whose view was known on the question of whether the memo should have been released thought it should not be.  And while McGahn’s letter says the President followed “established standards governing the handling of classified information” in making his decision, those standards (contained in Executive Order 13526) provide that questions about whether the public interest favors disclosure “shall be referred to the agency head or the senior agency official,” and “[t]hat official will determine, as an exercise of discretion, whether the public interest in disclosure outweighs the damage to the national security that might reasonably be expected from disclosure.”  McGahn may be accurate in stating that the President sought the agencies’ “input.”  He sought it, and then ignored it.

Which brings us back to Korea, and how to evaluate the import of yet more news from this past week, this story reporting that the Pentagon has been slow-walking its effort to provide additional military options to the White House out of fear that giving the president too many choices might increase the odds that he will take action that could trigger a catastrophic North Korean response. The history of military foot-dragging of this nature is storied, and regularly (and rightly) triggers yet a different debate of constitutional import – the unresolved debate about what we mean by civilian control, and whether such behavior undermines it in a constitutional sense.  (More than you want to know about that debate in my previous work, here.) 

More difficult than the usual question of how to distinguish expert advice from undemocratic influence that has long surrounded the work of administrative agencies, one prominent theory of civilian control has it that civilian leaders in a democracy “have the right to be wrong,” that the curative for bad civilian decisions is, as with all else, democratic accountability at the voting booth. Yet as important an argument that may be in some circumstances, such an ex post facto approach to executive constraint seems rather cold comfort when what may turn out to be a ‘wrong’ decision has the effect of costing tens of thousands of Americans (and many more Koreans and/or Japanese) their lives.  The other leading theory of civilian control – Huntington’s idea that a “strong, integrated, highly professional officer corps…, immune to politics and respected for its military character, would be a steadying balance wheel in the conduct of policy” – seems equally unsatisfying, for Huntington thought effective objective control of this nature was made much more difficult by the constitutional decision to give both the President and Congress some power in overseeing the military.  In his view, Congress’ power to, for example, call officers to testify, put military professionals in an impossible position, having to choose at times between their genuine objective judgment and loyalty to (and employment by) their Commander in Chief.  As Huntington put it: “The separation of powers ... has been a major hindrance to the development of military professionalism and civilian control in the United States.”


Circumstances like the current one make me far more inclined to conclude there is something wrong with scholars’ two primary theories of “civilian control” than with our separation of powers system. For as uncomfortable as it may make our military professionals to speak their unvarnished views to the relevant congressional committees – and I think history has repeatedly shown many officers able to manage their professional discomfort better than Huntington might have surmised – it is apparent that no Commander in Chief, and above all not this one, will always act on what expertise he has available to him.  What the separation of powers should – and does – give us, is at least the chance to hear those views for ourselves.  

Wednesday, January 31, 2018

Tolerance Means Dialogue

Jason Mazzone

Robin Fretwell Wilson (Illinois) and Bill Eskridge (Yale) have just launched an ambitious national project, Tolerance Means Dialogue, that brings together people of different backgrounds and beliefs to find common ground on divisive social and political issues. The project seeks to "harness and amplify the insights of Millennials, tomorrow’s leaders, who have grown up with unprecedented diversity—and a spirit of openness and inclusivity." Robin and Bill are working with other partners and participants on a variety of activities and programs that have the potential for transforming interactions on a personal level as well as informing national debates. You can read more about the project at the Tolerance Means Dialogue website and also follow it on Twitter at #ToleranceMeans.

Sunday, January 28, 2018

Strategy When They're Playing Constitutional Hardball and You Think It's the Wrong Game

Mark Tushnet

Not surprisingly I was pleased to see that my idea of constitutional hardball plays a role in Levitsky and Ziblatt's book on How Democracies Die (op ed here). Here I want to reflect on strategies once the game has started and you want to get it to stop. Levitsky and Ziblatt's book has the obvious prescription for Republicans -- the remnants of the "establishment" should do what they can to change the players on their side. For Democrats, though, their strategies involve policy prescriptions, not "moves" in the immediate game. What can Democrats do on a day-by-day basis in the game of constitutional hardball when their ultimate goal is to reinstitute the norms that Levitsky and Ziblatt treat as essential to sustaining a democracy?

The starting point is that Democrats today have relatively little power. So, one possibility is simply to model the behavior they think appropriate norms require -- what Levitsky and Ziblatt call norms of toleration and forebearance. This might include being open to discussion about Republican priorities, such as real repairs to the Affordable Care Act and compromises on immigration policy, and refraining from using every possible procedural tool in the minority's hands to delay legislation and appointments. From my partisan perspective as a relative outsider (no one in Congress has ever called me except to ask for a contribution), it looks to me as if Democratic party leaders are pretty much doing that, though I suspect that people situated similarly to me but on the other side of the partisan divide see it otherwise. (I refer to Democratic party leaders because there are [always] outliers who go off-message -- the problem, as Levitsky and Ziblatt see it, is that those who used to be outliers in the Republican Party are now in the center.)

Another possibility is to use the "weapons of the weak": As enumerated by James Scott, "foot dragging, dissimulation, desertion, false compliance, pilfering, feigned ignorance, slander, arson, sabotage, and so on." Scott's list derives from his work on peasant resistance, so some of the strategies are obviously inapposite to U.S. politics at the congressional level (except perhaps metaphorically). My sense is that Democratic party leaders have done some of this, and that the Democratic"base" would like them to do more. But, there's an obvious tension between this possibility and modeling appropriate behavior. Having been an advocate for more use of the weapons of the weak, I guess I think that such advocacy is a good thing because it holds the leaders' feet to the fire -- that is, it reinforces the idea that they do have to do something to show that they are not happy with the current rules of the game.

That last point seems to me relevant to the possible courses of conduct if -- one hopes, when -- Democrats regain some degree of formal power, such as by winning a majority in the House of Representatives. Here, I think, Levitsky and Ziblatt's emphasis on the norm of forebearance is really important. It's one thing for Democrats in the minority to talk about impeaching the President; it would be another, and in my view quite a bad thing on evidence currently available, for a Democratic majority in the House actually to do so. Somewhere in their book Levitsky and Ziblatt quote my observation that the Clinton impeachment breached a norm that impeachment in the House without a realistic possibility of conviction in the Senate was inappropriate. That would be true of a Trump impeachment (again, on current evidence). Still, it might not be terrible for Democratic party leaders to know how deep opposition within their base is to the President, so it might not be that bad for more or less random people -- commentators, stray members of Congress -- to go around talking about impeachment.

What if the Democrats' formal power includes a slim majority in the Senate? From my narrow perspective, the confirmation process is what matters. People like me think that tit-for-tat is the right strategy: Slow walk court of appeals nominations to the point of immobility, and hold any Supreme Court vacancy open until the next election. Real politicians have a different view, and -- on Levitsky and Ziblatt's analysis -- they are probably right. I can report that the "hold the seat open" strategy has almost no traction among political insiders. Rather, Democratic insiders seem likely to insist on a Garland-like nomination -- not someone from the highly touted Federalist Society list, but some more-or-less standard, relatively obscure but reasonably well thought of, and relatively old George W. Bush appointee to some court of appeals. And, of course, they know how to play the political game much better than I do, so I'm down with that strategy (subject to the "hold their feet to the fire" point about outsider advocacy).

And, finally, what about the (remote) possibility of Democratic control of Congress and the Presidency? Lots of things can change between now and the imagined then. I've tried to put Court-packing on the agenda, with no direct success (although I think I've managed to budge the needle a bit to the point where people who think about these things are now willing to entertain the possibility that some sort of"tit" is appropriate for the Republicans' "tat" in blocking Garland's confirmation; it's just that Court-packing isn't yet thought to be the right response). My guess is that normal processes of age, debilitation, and death will reduce the imperative Democrats might feel to do something -- just as happened after 1937. Still, it's unrealistic to think of Samuel Alito and Neil Gorsuch, much less John Roberts, following the courses taken by Willis Van Devanter (about whom I keep threatening to write an article), George Sutherland, and Charles Evans Hughes. So, again, I suspect that the "feet to the fire" practice should continue.

Wednesday, January 24, 2018

A Question for the Next Census

Gerard N. Magliocca

There is a controversy brewing about the Justice Department's request that the next census ask about citizenship status. The concern is that this question may discourage noncitizens from answering the census and thus lead to an undercount of that population that would affect all sorts of government programs, including representation in the House of Representatives.

I have a separate suggestion. If we are going to add new questions to the census about citizenship, then I would propose reviving one that was asked in the 1870 census. The modern version would ask all citizens above the age of 18 whether their right to vote has ever been "denied . . . or in any way abridged, except for participation in rebellion or other crime." This is language from of Section Two of the Fourteenth Amendment, which states that if states deny or abridge suffrage to presumptively eligible voters to excess then their representation in Congress shall be reduced.

In a paper forthcoming in George Washington Law Review, I argue that the current reapportionment system for the House of Representatives violates Section Two of the Fourteenth Amendment. Adding a voting rights question to the census would not cure that problem, but it would help.

Sunday, January 21, 2018

Political Norms, Constitutional Conventions, and President Trump

Neil Siegel

With the federal government shut down and President Trump calling for an end to the Senate filibuster as to legislation, it is a good time to think about political norms and conventions.

Over the first year of the Trump Presidency, it has become commonplace for reporters, legal academics, and political scientists to note and condemn President Trump's many violations of norms and conventions that had previously guided and restrained presidents of both political parties in the exercise of their discretion. Those efforts to observe and criticize are vital. They seek not only to educate the public about the persistent abnormality of the President's conduct, but also to sanction the president's breaches of the relevant norms and conventions.

Those two terms -- "norms" and "conventions" -- have tended to be used interchangeably; there has not been much discussion of the ways in which norms and conventions are alike, the ways in which they are different, and which conduct of the President arguably violates one or the other. In a new essay entitled Political Norms, Constitutional Conventions, and President Donald Trump, I seek to do some of that work. I argue that conventions find their conceptual space between political norms on the one hand and the game theoretic "equilibria" studied by political scientists on the other hand. "Constitutional conventions," I further suggest (following scholars drawing from the Commonwealth legal tradition), are special kinds of conventions in that fidelity to them helps vindicate particular purposes of the Constitution.

I also catalogue the President's violations of various norms and conventions. But that part of the essay compiles a partial list that became dated almost as soon as I completed each draft. It does, however, raise some intellectually interesting questions of proper categorization.

Here is the abstract:

This symposium Essay argues that what is most troubling about the conduct of President Trump during and since the 2016 U.S. presidential campaign is not any potential violations of the U.S. Constitution or federal law. There likely have been some such violations, and there may be more. But what is most troubling about President Trump is his disregard of political norms that had previously constrained presidential candidates and Presidents, and his flouting of nonlegal but obligatory “constitutional conventions” that had previously guided and disciplined occupants of the White House. These norms and conventions, although not “in” the Constitution, play a pivotal role in sustaining the Constitution. Part I discusses political norms and constitutional conventions, including how they are alike, how they are different, and why they matter in the United States notwithstanding the existence of a written constitution. Part II substantiates this Essay’s claim that President Trump has consistently disrespected numerous political norms and constitutional conventions. The Conclusion suggests that the jury is still out on how successful President Trump will be in eroding political norms and constitutional conventions.

Friday, January 19, 2018

Review of "The Heart of the Constitution"

Gerard N. Magliocca

The Washington Post is running this review of my new book in its Sunday edition.

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Donald Trump and the Declaration of Independence

Mark Graber

The Declaration of Independence occupies a far smaller place in Donald Trump’s public rhetoric than in the public rhetoric of any other modern president.  Presidential references to the Declaration of Independence or presidential quotations of such phrases as “all men are created equal” rose steadily from 1933 to 2016, in part because presidents gave an increasing number of recorded speeches and issued an increasing number of public proclamations.  President Barack Obama mentioned or quoted from the Declaration of Independence an average of 31 times a year when he was in office.  Donald Trump, on a generous interpretation, mentioned or quoted the Declaration only 15 times during his first year in office, despite producing as much paper as any other president.  Unlike past presidents, the phrase “consent of the governed” never drips from his tongue, he never mentions “self-evident truths,” and barely makes reference to “inalienable rights.”

Trump’s use of the Declaration is far more vacuous than any other contemporary president.  All presidents make symbolic use of the Declaration.  German-American Day proclamations note the signers of the Declaration born in Germany.  Nevertheless, all modern presidents before Trump put the Declaration at the heart of crucial policy arguments.  The second president George Bush repeatedly invoked the Declaration when arguing against abortion rights and distinguishing American commitments to universal human rights from the commitments of nations in the “axis of evil.”  Obama repeatedly invoked the Declaration when argument for gay rights, economic equality and the rights of immigrants.  All presidents since Franklin Roosevelt repeatedly asserted the centrality of the Declaration to American national identity.  Trump’s references to the Declaration, by comparison, are largely pro forma.  He does not mention that American identity is defined by commitment to the principles stated in Jefferson’s second paragraph.  He rarely refers to the Declaration when making arguments for particular policies.  Trump makes substantive references to the Declaration only when claiming Jefferson’s reference to “Creator” supports the presence of religion in public life.

Whether the Declaration remains a revolutionary document in the United States seemed doubtful before Trump took office. The Declaration’s assertion that the point of government was to protect individual rights, promote equality and serve the public good was highly contested in 1776.  Many people then thought the point of government was to protect the interests of a few families, promote the one true religion, serve the master race or rule the world.  By the end of the twentieth century, however, most Americans rested comfortable in the notion that the Declaration had won the day, that arguments about the purpose of government concerned how best to protect individual rights, promote equality and serve the public good, not whether government ought to pursue different ends.  This agreement on what might be called liberal/republican constitutional ends, explains why both Republicans and Democrats in the White House each made free use of the Declaration when championed their particular version of liberal republican constitutionalism.  The Declaration did not take sides in public debate prior to 2016, because all participants agreed on the Declaration's understanding of legitimate constitutional ends. 

Donald Trump’s public indifference to the Declaration suggests that this consensus on the purposes of government is not as broad as Americans might have thought during the Bush II and Obama presidencies.  Trump’s rare and vacuous references to Jefferson’s work suggest that he neither thinks that the Declaration establishes American governing purposes nor believes that adherence to the Declaration defines American national identity.  He purports to make “American great again” without understanding that American greatness lies in the national commitment to principles set out in the Declaration, a national commitment to the self-evident truths that “all men are created equal,” that all persons are “endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,” that governments “deriv[e] their just powers from the consent of governed,” and that “it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish” any government that “becomes destructive of those ends.”

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