1/18/1873: Bradwell v. Illinois argued.
The Volokh Conspiracy
Mostly law professors | Sometimes contrarian | Often libertarian | Always independent | Est. 2002
Friday Open Thread
What's on your mind?
"Another Email Account Impersonating a Banker Working for [Plaintiff] Invited … Recipients … to Join a Fictitious Neo-Nazi Banking Club"
One of many allegedly defamatory statements allegedly sent by a former summer intern at a financial company; the court holds a proposed preliminary injunction against future speech by defendant about plaintiff would be an unconstitutional prior restraint, but issues a narrower injunction.
In today's decision in Raymond James & Assocs. v. Saba by Judge Matthew W. McFarland (S.D. Ohio), Saba had been an intern at Raymond James & Associates, a financial firm, but didn't get a full-time offer. He then allegedly did the following (according to plaintiff's Complaint):
On November 4, 2024, using several fictitious email accounts, Defendant began a cyber-harassment campaign ("the Campaign") that spread false and malicious information about Plaintiffs. The emails, sent to fellow Raymond James employees, as well as individuals outside the company, accused Plaintiffs of illegal insider trading and rape; one email targeted Redvanly's girlfriend at her place of employment and accused her of illegal insider trading.
In addition to the false accusations of criminal activity, some emails attempted to implicate Plaintiffs Redvanly [Defendant's former mentor at the firm] and VanBenthuysen [another firm employee] in inappropriate romantic relationships. In fact, on December 8, 2024, an email sent to both Raymond James employees and outside email addresses intended to impersonate VanBenthuysen and another employee; the email implied that the two were engaged in an extramarital affair and included sexually explicit images. A separate false account further distributed this email to numerous members of the investment banking community, including firms that compete with Raymond James.
Defendant sent a similarly explicit email on December 15, 2024, implicating VanBenthuysen and a different Raymond James employee by purporting to report explicit communications between the two; this email was similarly sent to both Raymond James employees and external recipients. On December 21, 2024, yet another fictitious email account sent an email to both Raymond James employees and external recipients, this time impersonating VanBenthuysen's wife and including another sexually explicit image taken from the internet. Plaintiffs allege that this conduct continued throughout the month of December 2024.
Then, on December 30, 2024, another email account impersonating a banker working for Raymond James invited numerous recipients external to Raymond James to join a fictitious neo-Nazi banking club. The email directed responses to VanBenthuysen's Raymond James email address and included a PDF attachment that advertised the fictitious neo-Nazi club. Raymond James' Cyber Threat Center, which had been working to uncover the perpetrator of these emails, examined the metadata on the attached PDF. The metadata revealed that Defendant was the author of the PDF.
From Daphne Keller (Stanford) on the Tiktok Case
I've long much appreciated Keller's analyses, so I thought I'd pass along this one about today's TikTok decision; I disagree with parts of it, but I think it's quite interesting and insightful:
Given that I considered TikTok's loss a foregone conclusion, this feels like maybe the best possible outcome.
To be clear, I would have liked the TikTok law to be struck down. That's because, assuming (against much evidence) that the goal was to prevent Chinese data collection that threatens national security, Congress chose a *really stupid* way to do that. It could have done so many more effective things. But I didn't expect that logic to prevail. As copyright lawyers learned years ago with Eldred and Golan, the Supreme Court will ignore illogical, captured, biased, or pretextual Congressional reasoning when it feels like it.
The Court rules solely based on the national security threat posed by Chinese data collection (not the algorithmic control issue). Plaintiffs conceded the government's interest in preventing that data collection. That leaves the much more 1st-Amendment-fraught questions about algorithm design unaddressed.
Gorsuch's concurrence addresses a key lurking issue about the government's interest in preventing Chinese manipulation of the algorithm. Can US speakers or companies (like TikTok) choose, as a 1st Am matter, to espouse China's message? Gorsuch says yes. (Screenshots of key passages for this and some other points below are in the Bluesky version of this thread, https://lnkd.in/gq3f2xJE)
A 2017 Profile Of Tom Goldstein In The Carolina Alumni Review
Goldstein: "I think most people would find what I do boring."
David Lat linked to a November 2017 profile of Tom Goldstein in the University of North Carolina alumni magazine. He was interviewed in April 2017. In that period, he had two back-to-back oral arguments in California Public Employees' Retirement System v. ANZ Securities, Inc. (4/17/2017) and Bristol-Myers Squibb Co. v. Superior Court of California (4/25/2017). In my post yesterday, I listed some of the allegations made in the indictment from that time frame, which involved high stakes poker games, suffering losses of nearly $10 million, and moving funds around from the firm to pay those debts.
Here is how the alumni magazine described his experiences during that time:
On a Sunday in April, Goldstein secluded himself in a 10th-floor suite at the Park Hyatt Washington hotel. For two days before every Supreme Court appearance, he leaves home to focus. . . .
In stories from his younger years, Goldstein came across as larger than life, dabbling in high-stakes poker and once shipping a Ferrari to Las Vegas for a drag race. In person, he's soft-spoken and selfeffacing. He gave up poker. He traded the Ferrari for a Tesla P100D (still fast, but with room for the kids). He quit posting YouTube spoofs about his work. These days, most of what he talks about are legal briefs and oral arguments. "I think most people," he said, "would find what I do boring."
That evening, Howe planned to bring their daughters down for dinner from their home in Chevy Chase — eating together is a family commitment they rarely forfeit, not even for the Supreme Court. But other than a rare break for an interview, at the Hyatt there were few distractions. "When I left home last night, the dog started throwing up and my daughter was sick so it was just good fortune that I had separated myself, and then I'll be back home on Monday," Goldstein said. "Now it's just a question of putting it all together, refining the answers, filling in all the little holes of what I don't know. That sort of thing. … I'll learn things until the last possible minute." . . .
"We're a good team," Howe said. Said Goldstein: "I wouldn't have time to do what I do without all she does with the family and the blog. And my law practice makes her job possible. So each of us contributes equally to the success of the other. … The only time we've had a problem is when there's been a hierarchy. We figured that out so we're never in an environment where one reports to another." . . .
Howe, who blogged about Neil Gorsuch's first day on the court that morning, took a seat in the spectator section to watch her husband's argument. She doesn't write about his cases; Columbia Law School professor Ronald Mann covered the hearing for SCOTUSblog. Goldstein was up against Paul Clement, a former solicitor general who is considered a leading contender for justice if there's another opening under President Donald Trump. "One of the things I love about what I do is that the people on the other side that you're dealing with are super talented," Goldstein said. "They push you. You cannot sleep on any case. The other side is going to make all the best arguments that can be made, in the best way they can be made. It really causes you to up your game. I find other places where you can just wing it very boring."
I was also struck by this quote from Nina Totenberg, Goldstein's former employer and mentor:
"The thing about Tom, you've got to understand, is he's a quintessentially decent person as a human being," Totenberg said. "When somebody is as smart as he is, there's always the chance he will lose that sense of personal decency and become completely obsessed with himself and all that. And that didn't happen to him. I give him a lot of credit for that. I give her [Amy Howe] even more."
Biden Didn't Cause the Border Crisis by Being too Lax on Enforcement
David Bier has an excellent analysis on this point.
Particularly since the election, a conventional wisdom has emerged that President Biden caused a border crisis by being lax on enforcement. My Cato Institute colleague David Bier, a leading immigration and border policy expert, has an excellent piece explaining why that conventional wisdom is largely wrong. Here is his summary of his main points:
The main takeaways are:
- Illegal immigration had already increased to a 21-year high by December 2020 before Biden came into office.
- Biden immediately started increasing expulsions from his first day in office.
- Biden tripled interior detention and increased border detention 12-fold.
- Biden increased air removal flights by 55 percent over 2020 levels.
- Biden negotiated broader expulsion deals with foreign countries than Trump.
- Biden got many foreign countries to carry out crackdowns on illegal and legal migration.
- Biden removed or expelled 3.3 million border crossers—3 times as many as Trump.
- Biden even managed to remove a similar percentage of crossers as Trump's 4 years.
Despite Biden's historic crackdown:
- Expulsions did not deter migrants, even among demographics universally expelled.
- Evasions of Border Patrol increased as rapidly as Border Patrol arrests, implying that releases did not cause the crisis and that many people did not want Border Patrol to catch them but were undeterred by the threat.
- Releases occurred not because Biden cut removals but because migration grew faster than the administration could increase them.
- As a result, releases only occurred among specific demographic groups and in specific areas where removals were logistically complicated.
- Biden could not easily remove groups to Mexico, like families, children, and immigrants from distant countries who were arrested in record numbers.
The actual causes of the increases in illegal immigration were:
- Unprecedented labor demand, which incentivized and funded migration from around the world: From February 2021 to August 2024, there were more open jobs each month than in any month before Biden's term began. During this time, economies worldwide were recovering far less quickly than the United States. As labor demand subsided in 2024, immigration fell.
- Unprecedented access to information about migration through the Internet and social media: Internet access rose rapidly from 2018 to 2021, nearly doubling in Central America and reaching unprecedented highs in South America. Social media platforms gave people step-by-step instructions on migrating and connected them directly with smugglers. This opened migration from around the world—which contributed to the number of releases.
- Novel and perverse enforcement policies: The Title 42 expulsion policy incentivized repeat crossings by returning people to Mexico, where they could immediately attempt to re-enter the United States. Title 42 also cut off access to asylum, incentivizing more Border Patrol evasions.
- Novel and perverse legal migration policies: Title 42 and related pandemic restrictions not only banned asylum for people who crossed illegally but also prohibited legal entries by asylum seekers, including demographic groups that had traditionally always entered legally, like Haitians, Cubans, and Mexican families. Biden eventually increased legal entries by these groups and others, limiting the crisis's extent and ultimately contributing to its end.
The rest of the article substantiates these points in detail. I agree with almost everything David says. As he and I explained in a November 2023 USA Today article, the best way to address border issues is to make legal migration easier. Unfortunately, as we described in the same piece, the Biden administration undermined its own otherwise laudable efforts to do just that, because of bureaucratic constraints and arbitrary numerical limits on parole programs that expand legal migration.
I would add two points to David's analysis. First, in addition to the "pull" factor of the hot US labor market (emphasized by Bier), there was also the "push" provided by intensifying poverty, violence, and repression in countries such as Cuba, Venezuela, and Haiti. Both played a role in increasing illegal migration over the last several years.
Second, it is notable that Biden's many restrictionist measures - documented by Bier - did little to increase his popularity. At the very least, this weakens the claim that such policies are obvious political winners for Democrats. I would not go to the opposite extreme of saying that the policy I prefer - near-total open borders - would be popular, either. But, as Bier and I have long argued, making legal migration easier can reduce chaos at the border, and thereby reduce the political backlash such chaos creates.
For those who care, Bier and I were both highly critical of Biden's use of Title 42 restrictions (which extended a policy first adopted by Trump) and "Trump-lite" asylum policies at the time. These policies were legally dubious, caused great harm, and largely failed even to achieve Biden's political goals. Sometimes, harmful, counterproductive, and unjust policies can boost politicians' popularity. In this instance, they failed even to do that.
In a previous post on this issue, I commented on a related piece by Alex Nowrasteh, who also works on immigration policy at Cato.
Can a School Require Students to Learn about Sexuality and "Cisnormativity" Over Parents' Religious Objection?
In granting Mahmoud v. Taylor, the Supreme Court has agreed to consider this question.
Today the Supreme Court granted five petitions for certiorari. These cases will either be heard at the end of the term in April, or at the beginning of next term in October. (Hearing them this term would require curtailing the normal briefing schedule.)
Perhaps the highest profile case among today's cert grants is Mahmoud v. Taylor, a case that implicates the religious rights of parents to control (or at least know about) what their children learn in school.
Here is the question presented from the petition for certiorari:
Respondent Montgomery County Board of Education requires elementary school teachers to read their students storybooks celebrating gender transitions, Pride parades, and same-sex playground romance. The storybooks were chosen to disrupt "cisnormativity" and "either/or thinking" among students. The Board's own principals objected that the curriculum was "not appropriate for the intended age group," presented gender ideology as "fact," "sham[ed]" students with contrary opinions, and was "dismissive of religious beliefs." The Board initially allowed parents to opt their kids out—but then reversed course, saying that no opt-outs would be permitted and that parents would not even be notified when the storybooks were read.
Petitioners filed suit, not challenging the curriculum, but arguing that compelling their elementary-age children to participate in instruction contrary to their parents' religious convictions violated the Free Exercise Clause. Construing Wisconsin v. Yoder, the Fourth Circuit found no free-exercise burden because no one was forced "to change their religious beliefs or conduct."
The question presented is:
Do public schools burden parents' religious exercise when they compel elementary school children to participate in instruction on gender and sexuality against their parents' religious convictions and without notice or opportunity to opt out?
This case implicates parental rights, but in the context of religious exercise. It also concerns the education and upbringing of one's children, a right which rests more firmly on existing precedent than does a right to medical care of which the state disapproves. The Court's willingness to hear this case is nonetheless extra-interesting because the Court did not grant certiorari for the issue of parental rights in the Skrmetti case, which concerns whether a state may prohibit children from receiving certain medical treatments. Among other things, the ACLU argued that preventing children from receiving medical care that their parents support violates their parents due process rights.
Short Circuit: A Roundup of Recent Federal Court Decisions
Crypto rules, false statements, and regulatory habitats.
Please enjoy the latest edition of Short Circuit, a weekly feature written by a bunch of people at the Institute for Justice.
Friends, 2025 marks ten years of Short Circuit. That's right, our first newsletter went out February 13, 2015, and our first podcast two weeks later. To celebrate, we're putting on a show—and hosting a party. The best part is that you're invited. It's Thursday, April 3, 2024, at 7pm at the Studio Theatre in Washington, D.C. You'll hear about how it all began, see a Short Circuit Live podcast recording, and learn about the future of the federal courts of appeals. Plus, free food and drinks. And in addition to several of us at IJ, you'll hear from retired judges Diane Wood (CA7) and Kent Jordan (CA3), Adam Liptak of The New York Times, Prof. Eugene Volokh, Dean of #AppellateTwitter Raffi Melkonian, and our old friend Clark Neily, now at Cato. Register here today!
Biden's Dubious Declaration that the Equal Rights Amendment has Been Duly Ratified
I support the ERA. But Biden's claim that it has been properly ratified goes against court decisions, and is almost certainly wrong.
Today President Biden declared that the Equal Rights Amendment, which states that "Equality of Rights under the law shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or any state on account of sex," has been duly ratified and is now part of the Constitution. Like Biden, I support the ERA and want it to be part of the Constitution. But his statement that it has been properly ratified is at odds with relevant court decisions, and is almost certainly wrong. Here is Biden's statement in full:
I have supported the Equal Rights Amendment for more than 50 years, and I have long been clear that no one should be discriminated against based on their sex. We, as a nation, must affirm and protect women's full equality once and for all.
On January 27, 2020, the Commonwealth of Virginia became the 38th state to ratify the Equal Rights Amendment. The American Bar Association (ABA) has recognized that the Equal Rights Amendment has cleared all necessary hurdles to be formally added to the Constitution as the 28th Amendment. I agree with the ABA and with leading legal constitutional scholars that the Equal Rights Amendment has become part of our Constitution.
It is long past time to recognize the will of the American people. In keeping with my oath and duty to Constitution and country, I affirm what I believe and what three-fourths of the states have ratified: the 28th Amendment is the law of the land, guaranteeing all Americans equal rights and protections under the law regardless of their sex.
For reasons laid out in a 2007 article on the subject, I too support the ERA. Some of the points I made in 2007 are now moot. For example, the ERA is no longer needed to ensure a right to same-sex marriage, because the Supreme Court ruled in favor of such a right on other grounds in Obergefell v. Hodges (2015). Similarly, the Pentagon has already opened up nearly all combat positions in the military to women, making that issue moot, as well (though enactment of the ERA could protect against backsliding). But the ERA would still lead to invalidation of all or most remaining forms of state-sponsored sex discrimination, such as male-only draft registration, and affirmative action preferences for women in some education programs and government contracting. It's possible that it would also ban state discrimination against transgender people (whether the latter qualifies as sex discrimination is disputed, though I think it does). I would be happy to see those effects happen, though the affirmative action one may not be welcomed by some of the ERA's more left-wing supporters.
Thus, I wish I could support Biden's conclusion that the ERA has been duly ratified. Sadly, I cannot. Scott Bomboy of the National Constitution Center has a helpful article laying out the controversy over the ERA's ratification. As he notes, Congress passed the ERA in 1972, but included a seven year deadline for the requisite ratification by three-fourths of the states. Congress eventually extended that deadline by another three years, till 1982. But, as of the extended deadline, only 35 states had ratified, three short of the required supermajority.
More recently, three more states claimed to ratify the amendment, the most recent being Virginia in 2020. Biden and other supporters of the idea that the ERA is now law want to count these post-deadline ratifications along with the others. Their position rests on the claim Congress's ratification deadline is unconstitutional.
Unfortunately for Biden, the Supreme Court ruled in Dillon v. Gloss (1921) that Congress does have the power to impose ratification deadlines, as it had done with the Eighteenth Amendment (which imposed alcohol prohibition). As the unanimous Court put it, "[w]e do not find anything in the article which suggests that an amendment, once proposed, is to be open to ratification for all time, or that ratification in some of the states may be separated from that in others by many years and yet be effective. We do find that which strongly suggests the contrary…. Of the power of Congress, keeping within reasonable limits, to fix a definite period for the ratification we entertain no doubt."
More recently, the US Court of Appeals for the DC Circuit reached a similar conclusion regarding the ERA itself, in Illinois v. Ferriero (2023), a case in which two state governments sought to compel the Archivist of the United States to certify that the ERA has been duly ratified and is now the law. For what it's worth, the DC Circuit ruling was authored by Judge Robert Wilkins, a liberal Obama appointee, and joined by fellow liberal J. Michelle Childs (a Biden appointee), as well as conservative Neomi Rao (appointed by Trump).
I think the reasoning of these decisions is compelling. But even if Biden disagrees, he and other government officials have a duty to adhere to the courts' resolution of these constitutional issues. Defiance of such judicial decisions is wrong when promoted by Trump and J.D. Vance, and it is wrong for Biden, as well.
In fairness, Biden's declaration does not, by itself, violate any judicial ruling. That would only happen if the administration takes meaningful steps to enforce the ERA. Since Biden only has about three days left in office, he may be unwilling or unable to do anything along these lines. The incoming Trump Administration is likely to reject Biden's position.
It is somewhat strange that Biden only took this step on his way out the door. After all, Virginia's supposed ratification took place in 2020, and Biden could have adopted the position that the ERA has been ratified at any time during his term. Had he done so in, say, 2021 or 2022, it would have had a much bigger effect, likely triggering a prolonged legal battle.
For the moment, therefore, Biden's declaration is just a dubious symbolic step that probably won't have much effect. But I worry that it will lead a future Democratic administration to take the same position, thereby setting the stage for an unnecessary constitutional conflict.
Co-blogger and Harvard law Prof. Steve Sachs offers additional criticisms of Biden's position here.
President Biden, the ERA, and Constitutional Vandalism
A deeply mistaken decision on the way out of office.
Three days from the end of his term, President Biden just announced that he has "long believed" the Equal Rights Amendment to be valid law:
I have supported the Equal Rights Amendment for more than 50 years, and I have long been clear that no one should be discriminated against based on their sex. We, as a nation, must affirm and protect women's full equality once and for all.
On January 27, 2020, the Commonwealth of Virginia became the 38th state to ratify the Equal Rights Amendment. The American Bar Association (ABA) has recognized that the Equal Rights Amendment has cleared all necessary hurdles to be formally added to the Constitution as the 28th Amendment. I agree with the ABA and with leading legal constitutional scholars that the Equal Rights Amendment has become part of our Constitution.
It is long past time to recognize the will of the American people. In keeping with my oath and duty to Constitution and country, I affirm what I believe and what three-fourths of the states have ratified: the 28th Amendment is the law of the land, guaranteeing all Americans equal rights and protections under the law regardless of their sex.
Although nothing has changed legally for the ERA since 2020, Biden has never taken this position before. He isn't ordering the Archivist of the United States to publish the amendment (which she has said she cannot lawfully do), and under his Administration the Department of Justice declined to assert the ERA's validity and defended the decision not to publish it.
One way to explain this hesitancy to endorse the ERA as lawful is that, well, it isn't. As I've discussed here before, Congress can and has placed legally operative language in amending resolutions, not just in proposed article text. The implication is that the ERA's seven-year time limit is valid—and that the ERA is not. Or, as I argue in forthcoming draft work:
The Twelfth Amendment and the ERA
Whether the Equal Rights Amendment is—right now—part of the Constitution is a matter of serious dispute. Thirty-eight states have sought to ratify the ERA, several of them only after the seven-year deadline in its proposing resolution. Should Congress or the Executive ignore the deadline, the ERA's doubtful validity could provoke a minor constitutional crisis.
But there may be a clear legal answer. Not only in the resolution proposing the Bill of Rights, but also in those proposing the Twelfth and Seventeenth Amendments, Congress included operative language that modified the legal force of the newly proposed text. This language was deliberately chosen, was repeated by state ratifications, and seems to have been accepted as legally effective. This historical practice suggests that under Article V, the resolution is the amendment—the constitutional change proposed by the resolution as a whole, not just by the particular language it proposes to add.
This understanding means that certain parts of the 1788 Constitution have been repealed, not just superseded. It also means that the ERA, were it ratified, would be incapable of making any valid change to the Constitution's text. The current lobbying efforts are therefore seriously misguided. In a divided society, losing consensus on the Constitution's text carries an especially high cost; the National Archives is the wrong place to play with fire.
If there's one thing that Americans are entitled to expect from their law professors, to paraphrase Justice Robert Jackson, it's rules of law that enable them to tell whether the Constitution has been amended, and if so, how. Unfortunately, whether the Equal Rights Amendment is, right now, part of the Constitution is a matter of serious dispute. Thirty-eight states have sought to ratify the ERA, the minimum number under Article V's three-fourths ratification requirement. If these ratifications were valid, the ERA would have come into effect on January 27, 2022. But three of the states acted only after the lapse of the ERA's seven-year deadline, a deadline that Congress included in its resolution proposing the Amendment fifty years earlier. Four other states had purported to rescind their ratifications even before the deadline expired, and a fifth did so upon its expiration. Nonetheless many members of Congress (indeed, the majority of the Democratic caucus in both Houses), joined by influential groups such as the American Bar Association, have proclaimed the Amendment valid—and they've called on the Archivist of the United States to accept it as valid also. If Congress or the Executive were take the ERA as indeed part of the Constitution, its doubtful validity could provoke a minor constitutional crisis.
This makes the ERA's validity an urgent question for constitutional scholars. If its proposed text really were valid, and the seven-year deadline really were void, then officials, lawyers, and academics alike would all be obliged to proclaim them so. By contrast, if the deadline really were valid, and the proposed text really were void, then urging the ERA's recognition might be seen as a shocking act of constitutional vandalism, one that threatens to destroy one of the last remaining areas of consensus in American law: our agreement on the Constitution's text.
But there may be a clear legal answer. Underappreciated historical evidence suggests that Congress was right to think it could place legally operative language in a proposing resolution—and that this language would be legally effective even without being repeated in a proposed article's text. Not only in the Bill of Rights, but also in the Twelfth and Seventeenth Amendments, Congress included operative language in proposing resolutions that specified which changes were to be made in the Constitution, altering the legal force of the newly added text or repealing contrary language in the existing Constitution. Congress's language was deliberately chosen; it was repeated by states in their instruments of ratification; and it seems to have been accepted as legally effective at the time. Yet despite its importance, this historical practice—spread across the eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth centuries—appears to have gone almost entirely unnoticed by legal scholars.
This practice also suggests a different understanding of the amendment process, one that might seem counterintuitive today but that's more consistent with the actual provisions of Article V. The "Seventeenth Amendment" isn't just the 134 words that follow that heading in a standard copy of the Constitution; it's a particular change worked in the text of the Constitution, a change proposed by Congress in a joint resolution in 1912 and then agreed to by the states in 1913. As a legal matter, the resolution is the amendment. When acting under Article V, Congress isn't limited to proposing pieces of extra language to be tacked on at the end; it can make detailed edits, can delete provisions of the existing Constitution, and can add conditions for its various proposals' validity. Each of these options would carry the same legal force as a proposed article's text, and each would be equally immune from future alteration by ordinary legislation passed by simple majority vote.
This understanding of Congress's powers under Article V entails that, while the text of our familiar printed Constitutions is correct, some familiar editorial notes might be in error: some provisions of the 1788 Constitution have been repealed, and not just superseded or "affected," by subsequent amendments. This understanding also entails rather straightforwardly that the ERA has failed to alter the Constitution's text. Whether or not states can rescind ratifications, the original deadline in Congress's resolution renders the article it proposes permanently invalid; that article forms no part of the Constitution, and the only way of adding it is for another amendment to the same effect to be proposed and ratified. In other words, despite succeeding in attracting ratifications from thirty-eight different states, the ERA makes and can make no valid change to the Constitution's text, no matter how many states might choose to ratify it in the future.
Finally, this view suggests that the current lobbying for the ERA is seriously misguided. In a deeply divided society, in which legal experts already disagree on key questions of constitutional law, losing consensus even on the content of the Constitution's text could be quite dangerous. While the best legal account of that text is one thing and popular belief another, any competing account needs to be supported by adequate evidence—and on the arguments presented here, this evidentiary bar is one the ERA simply can't clear. Advocates of the ERA should take note of this evidence and should identify a different path for pursuing their constitutional goals. The National Archives is the wrong place to play with fire.
See my prior post for more -- and will be updating this post with the new draft when it's available.
Classified Evidence in the Tiktok Case
The majority stated only that its decision was "based on the public record, without reference to the classified evidence the Government filed below," but Justice Gorsuch's concurrence in the judgment added:
I am pleased that the Court declines to consider the classified evidence the government has submitted to us but shielded from petitioners and their counsel. Efforts to inject secret evidence into judicial proceedings present obvious constitutional concerns. Usually, "the evidence used to prove the Government's case must be disclosed to the individual so that he has an opportunity to show that it is untrue."
Maybe there is a way to handle classified evidence that would afford a similar opportunity in cases like these. Maybe, too, Congress or even the Standing Committee on Rules of Practice and Procedure would profit from considering the question. Cf. United States v. Zubaydah (2022) (Gorsuch, J., dissenting). But as the Court recognizes, we have no business considering the government's secret evidence here.
"Speaking with and in Favor of a Foreign Adversary Is One Thing. Allowing a Foreign Adversary to Spy on Americans Is Another"
From Justice Gorsuch's opinion concurring in the judgment (and thus agreeing with the majority's result without signing on to its reasoning) in TikTok, Inc. v. Garland:
We have had a fortnight to resolve, finally and on the merits, a major First Amendment dispute affecting more than 170 million Americans. Briefing finished on January 3, argument took place on January 10, and our opinions issue on January 17, 2025. Given those conditions, I can sketch out only a few, and admittedly tentative, observations.
[1.] [T]he Court rightly refrains from endorsing the government's asserted interest in preventing "the covert manipulation of content" as a justification for the law before us. One man's "covert content manipulation" is another's "editorial discretion." Journalists, publishers, and speakers of all kinds routinely make less-than-transparent judgments about what stories to tell and how to tell them. Without question, the First Amendment has much to say about the right to make those choices. It makes no difference that Americans (like TikTok Inc. and many of its users) may wish to make decisions about what they say in concert with a foreign adversary.
"Those who won our independence" knew the vital importance of the "freedom to think as you will and to speak as you think," as well as the dangers that come with repressing the free flow of ideas. Whitney v. California (1927) (Brandeis, J., concurring). They knew, too, that except in the most extreme situations, "the fitting remedy for evil counsels is good ones." Too often in recent years, the government has sought to censor disfavored speech online, as if the internet were somehow exempt from the full sweep of the First Amendment. See, e.g., Murthy v. Missouri (2024) (Alito, J., dissenting). But even as times and technologies change, "the principle of the right to free speech is always the same." Abrams v. United States (1919) (Holmes, J., dissenting).
[2.] I harbor serious reservations about whether the law before us is "content neutral" and thus escapes "strict scrutiny." More than that, while I do not doubt that the various "tiers of scrutiny" discussed in our case law—"rational basis, strict scrutiny, something(s) in between"—can help focus our analysis, I worry that litigation over them can sometimes take on a life of its own and do more to obscure than to clarify the ultimate constitutional questions.
The TikTok Majority Opinion
Here's a quick summary of the unsigned majority opinion (called a "per curiam"), joined by all the Justices except Justice Gorsuch (who concurred in the result, but with a different analysis) and (in part) Justice Sotomayor:
[1.] The Court expresses some doubt about whether the law triggers First Amendment scrutiny at all. The Court views the law as regulating "corporate control" over TikTok, rather than restricting speech directly, which makes it unclear (in the Court's view) whether the law should be treated as a "direct regulation" of expression.
The Court recognizes that " the Act's prohibitions, TikTok-specific designation, and divestiture requirement 'impose a disproportionate burden upon' their First Amendment activities," and acknowledges that "an effective ban on a social media platform with 170 million U. S. users certainly burdens those users' expressive activity in a non-trivial way." But while the law "will burden various First Amendment activities, including content moderation, content generation, access to a distinct medium for expression, association with another speaker or preferred editor, and receipt of information and ideas,"
[A] law targeting a foreign adversary's control over a communications platform is in many ways different in kind from the regulations of non-expressive activity that we have subjected to First Amendment scrutiny. Those differences—the Act's focus on a foreign government, the congressionally determined adversary relationship between that foreign government and the United States, and the causal steps between the regulations and the alleged burden on protected speech—may impact whether First Amendment scrutiny applies.
But after all that, the Court still "assume[s] without deciding that the challenged provisions fall within this category and are subject to First Amendment scrutiny," because it concludes that they would pass the proper scrutiny (see below).
All The Things TikTok v. Garland Did Not Decide
CTRL-F the decision for "need not" and "assume"
Today, the Court affirmed the D.C. Circuit in TikTok v. Garland. In a fairly short period, the Justices mustered a twenty page per curiam decision. Justice Sotomayor wrote a brief concurrence, in which she disagreed with the Court on burdened protected speech. Justice Gorsuch concurred in judgment, disagreeing with the Court on whether the law was content neutral. My prediction of the "administrative injunction" did not come to pass. The opinion is fairly tight. It reads like Roberts and/or Kagan wrote it. I suspect they started on this before briefing concluded.
What struck me about the decision was how much the Court did not decide. One trick is to search the case for hedge words like "need not" and "assume."
Here are a few highlights.
First, the Court announces a ticket good for one ride: like Bush v. Gore, this case is limited to its unique circumstances. No ruling for the ages here:
As Justice Frankfurter advised 80 years ago in considering the application of established legal rules to the "totally newproblems" raised by the airplane and radio, we should take care not to "embarrass the future." Northwest Airlines, Inc. v. Minnesota, 322 U. S. 292, 300 (1944). That caution is heightened in these cases, given the expedited time allowed for our consideration. [FN1] Our analysis must be understood to be narrowly focused in light of these circumstances.
[FN1] Applications for an injunction pending review were filed on December16, 2024; we construed the applications as petitions for a writ of certiorari and granted them on December 18, 2024; and oral argument was held on January 10, 2025.
Roberts likes citing Frankfurter, hence my suspicion above.
Second, the Court doesn't actually decide if the law triggers heightened review.
This Court has not articulated a clear framework for determining whether a regulation of non-expressive activity that disproportionately burdens those engaged in expressive activity triggers heightened review. We need not do so here. We assume without deciding that the challenged provisions fall within this category and are subject to First Amendment scrutiny.
Justice Sotomayor would have resolved the First Amendment isue:
I join all but Part II.A of the Court's per curiam opinion.I see no reason to assume without deciding that the Act implicates the First Amendment because our precedent leavesno doubt that it does.
No one else joined Sotomayor on this point. We cannot assume that everyone else joined the per curiam opinion, but that is a good assumption in this case.
Third, the Court finds that the statute, as applied to TikTok, is "facially content neutral." But the Court declines to consider an exemption in the statute that does not apply to TikTok, because this is only an as-applied challenge:
Petitioners argue that the Act is content based on its face because it excludes from the definition of "covered company" any company that operates an application "whose primary purpose is to allow users to post product reviews, business reviews, or travel information and reviews." We need not decide whether that exclusion is content based. The question before the Court is whether the Act violates the First Amendment as applied to petitioners. To answer that question, we look to the provisions of the Act that give rise to the effective TikTok ban that petitioners argue burdens their First Amendment rights. The exclusion for certain review platforms, however, applies only to the general framework for designating applications controlled by "covered compan[ies]," not to the TikTok-specific designation.§§2(g)(3)(A)–(B). As such, the exclusion is not within the scope of petitioners' as-applied challenge.
Justice Gorsuch really likes talking about Brandeis and Holmes:
But the question we face today is not the law's wisdom, only its constitutionality. Given just a handful of days afteroral argument to issue an opinion, I cannot profess the kindof certainty I would like to have about the arguments andrecord before us. All I can say is that, at this time and under these constraints, the problem appears real and the response to it not unconstitutional. As persuaded as I am ofthe wisdom of Justice Brandeis in Whitney and Justice Holmes in Abrams, their cases are not ours. Speaking with and in favor of a foreign adversary is onething. Allowing a foreign adversary to spy on Americans is another.
Justice Gorsuch is not so sure the law is content neutral, and has doubts about scrutiny altogether:
Third, I harbor serious reservations about whether the law before us is "content neutral" and thus escapes "strict scrutiny." More than that, while I do not doubt that the various "tiers of scrutiny" discussed in our case law—"rational basis, strict scrutiny, something(s) in between"—can help focus our analysis, I worry that litigation overthem can sometimes take on a life of its own and do more to obscure than to clarify the ultimate constitutional questions. Riddle v. Hickenlooper, 742 F. 3d 922, 932 (CA102014) (Gorsuch, J., concurring).
In Bruen, the Court wrote that Free Speech cases follow a "text and history" approach. That was news to me! "Text and history" is not mentioned anywhere in this decision.
Fourth, the Court limits is holding based on the vast size of TikTok's data-collection powers:
While we find that differential treatment was justified here, however, we emphasize the inherent narrowness ofour holding. Data collection and analysis is a common practice in this digital age. But TikTok's scale and susceptibility to foreign adversary control, together with the vast swaths of sensitive data the platform collects, justify differential treatment to address the Government's national security concerns. A law targeting any other speaker would by necessity entail a distinct inquiry and separate considerations. On this understanding, we cannot accept petitioners' call for strict scrutiny. No more than intermediate scrutiny is in order.
Fifth, the Court does not consider any information in the classified record:
Our holding and analysis are based on the public record, without reference to the classified evidence the Government filed below.
Justice Gorsuch's concurrence praises the Court for not going down this road:
Second, I am pleased that the Court declines to consider the classified evidence the government has submitted to us but shielded from petitioners and their counsel. Ante, at 13, n. 3. Efforts to inject secret evidence into judicial proceedings present obvious constitutional concerns. . . . dissenting). But as the Court recognizes, we have no business considering the government's secret evidence here.
Sixth, the Court declines to consider China's ability to control TikTok's algorithm, to manipulate content. Instead, the Court rules solely based on the data collection justification:
Petitioners have not pointed to any case in which thisCourt has assessed the appropriate level of First Amendment scrutiny for an Act of Congress justified on both content-neutral and content-based grounds. They assert, however, that the challenged provisions are subject to—and fail—strict scrutiny because Congress would not have passed the provisions absent the foreign adversary control rationale. We need not determine the proper standard for mixed-justification cases or decide whether the Government's foreign adversary control justification is content neutral. Even assuming that rationale turns on content, petitioners' argument fails under the counterfactual analysis they propose: The record before us adequately supports the conclusion that Congress would have passed the challenged provisions based on the data collection justification alone.
Justice Gorsuch also praises the Court for not going down this road. He fears any sort of government control over the algorithm can pave the way to censorship:
First, the Court rightly refrains from endorsing the government's asserted interest in preventing "the covert manipulation of content" as a justification for the law before us. Brief for Respondent 37. One man's "covert content manipulation" is another's "editorial discretion." . . . "Those who won our independence" knew the vital importance of the "freedom to think as you will and to speak as you think," as well as the dangers that come with repressing the free flow of ideas. Whitney v. California, 274 U. S. 357, 375 (1927) (Brandeis, J., concurring). They knew, too, that except in the most extreme situations, "the fitting remedy for evil counsels is good ones." Ibid. Too often in recent years, the government has sought to censor disfavored speech online, as if the internet were somehow exempt from the full sweep of the First Amendment. See, e.g., Murthy v. Missouri, 603 U. S. 43, 76–78 (2024) (ALITO, J., dissenting). But even as times and technologies change, "the principle of the right tofree speech is always the same." Abrams v. United States, 250 U. S. 616, 628 (1919) (Holmes, J., dissenting).
What happens next? Biden has already announced he will not enforce the law. Trump apparently will sign an executive order declining to enforce the law as well. So was there any point to this entire exercise?
Guest Post from Professor Tillman: Professor Shugerman (et al) vs. Professor Prakash (et al)
I am happy to publish this guest post from my frequent co-author Seth Barrett Tillman, which is cross-posted at Seth's blog.
***
If you ask me about whether or not the President has an implied constitutionally-granted power to remove high-level Executive Branch officers subject to his (the President's) appointment power, my answer is basically that I do not have a dog in that fight. Last August, in response to an inquiry by e-mail, I responded: "I have always avoided taking any position on this issue: [the scope of presidential] removal [powers]. I think [any interpreter taking a position] is at the far edge of the construction zone . . . where policy is driving legal conclusions. I do not think [the question] answerable as an originalist matter."
Contra Tillman, Professor Shugerman and Professor Prakash do have positions on this issue.
Shugerman believes the answer is: No, the President has no such power impliedly granted by the Constitution. And Prakash believes: Yes, the President does have such a power. For the reasons I elaborated above and others, I am not going to judge between these two views, and I am not going to judge between these two academics. At least, between Shugerman and Prakash, I can honestly say that I am unbiased: Shugerman and Prakash have offered something less than effusive praise for my publications—as they are entirely entitled to do.
But now something has changed. The terms of this debate, indeed, of legal academic debate, are being changed. Prakash et al wrote a 2023 Harvard Law Review article. See Aditya Bamzai & Saikrishna Bangalore Prakash, The Executive Power of Removal, 136 Harv. L. Rev. 1756 (2023), <https://harvardlawreview.org/print/vol-136/the-executive-power-of-removal/>. Prakash made certain arguments in support of his position—he relied on certain documents, and he put forward his interpretation of those documents. Shugerman has taken the position that Prakash has seriously erred—i.e., that Prakash's interpretations have been wrong all along, and that he (Shugerman) has demonstrated that wrongness, and that Prakash has refused to retract or to sufficiently respond. For this alleged wrong, Shugerman put forward:
If "originalism" is a serious academic enterprise, are there any consequences for originalist scholarship that repeatedly misused, misrepresented, or made false claims about the historical record?
…. Is there accountability for originalists who make false historical claims?
Jed Shugerman, The Misuse of Ratification-Era Documents by Unitary Executive Theorists, Mich. J. L. Reform (2025) (manuscript at 25), <https://ssrn.com/abstract=5070241>; id. at 1 (same).
Let's assume that Shugerman is correct, and that Prakash is wrong.
What does Shugerman have in mind by way of "accountability" where Prakash remains unmoved and unwilling to voluntarily concede error? What would Shugerman have third parties do? Should third parties convene a tribunal or board of inquiry? Who would be the judges? Would the finders-of-fact be generalists off the street or specialist academics, and if so, in what field(s)?
Moreover, what punishments would the tribunal be empowered to impose?
Assuming lethal injection and a custodial sentence are out, does Shugerman want to see Prakash "removed" from his academic post?
Should Prakash be held in stocks and forced to read Gienapp and Rakove?
Or Should Prakash be denied access to his university's library and interlibrary loan service?
Or—God forbid—should Prakash be asked to suffer the Amy Wax treatment—i.e., denied teaching duties involving impressionable 1Ls?
Is the punishment to be shunning by on-campus peers, or to be denied a spot, by distant faculty, at some off-campus conference?
What does Shugerman mean by "accountability"?
I am a traditionalist. Let me suggest that we stick with the traditional norm for legal academics. What is the norm? When Academic-A publishes an article, then Academic-B can write a response. If people are persuaded by Academic-B's publication, then Academic-A's reputation will take a hit. And that is "accountability." Likewise, Academic-A can reply to Academic-B's response. And that's "accountability" too. Critics can be critiqued. A university built on free inquiry allows third parties to judge among publications, responses, and replies (and sometimes sur-replies)—along with the absence of such responses and replies. An interlocutor is not owed a response. Where an interlocutor writes a response, the initial proponent can reply or he can stand on his original publication. But the interlocutor is not owed a reply.
Now you might say: Seth—why do you think that is the norm? The answer is tu quoque. Let me explain:
In 2017, as briefing began involving litigation against Trump-45 based on the Foreign Emoluments Clause the Domestic (Presidential) Emoluments Clause, Professor Shugerman wrote an article appearing on Slate. He wrote:
Ultimately, the central piece of documentary evidence for this emoluments argument is a manuscript version of a 1792 document by Secretary of the Treasury Alexander Hamilton. That document omitted President George Washington from a list of "Persons Holding Civil Offices or Employments Under the United States." Yet the same document, when it was actually printed in official records of the early U.S. government, listed the president and vice president under the heading of "persons holding civil offices or employments under the United States." In every subsequent report of the Treasury Department listing the employees and offices "under the United States"—from Treasury Secretary Hamilton himself and his successors—the president is included . . . .
Jed Handelsman Shugerman & Ors, Presidential Revisionism, Slate (July 17, 2017, 5:42 PM), <http://tinyurl.com/y7qaabr4> (emphases added).
Leaving aside Shugerman's claims about the 1792 document and its subsequent reproduction, here, Shugerman is saying that there were other Treasury Department circulars—that is, "every subsequent report"—listing offices "under the United States." Shugerman has this language in quotation marks. But he fails to identify any such documents using office "under the United States"-language. I put Shugerman et al on notice of my concerns long ago.
To date, roughly eight years later . . .
- Shugerman has not published copies of the documents he claimed existed in his 2017 Slate publication. Nor has he privately sent me copies;
- Shugerman has not published full bibliographic information identifying where these documents can be found. Nor has he privately sent me this information.
- Shugerman has not published links to these documents. Nor has he privately sent me such links.
My own belief is that, in 2017, Shugerman erred, and that no such documents exist. But he has not responded, and he has not retracted. And that is within norms. Indeed, I suggest that it is the norm.
Shugerman does not owe Slate, its readers, or me a reply regarding my critique—then or now. Why Shugerman has not responded is difficult to say. Perhaps he adheres to his original claims, and he leaves it to third parties (such as me) to go out and find the documents he claims exist. Or, maybe, he thinks the issue unimportant, and that his basic argument stands, even if this lone set of related documentary-claims fails. Or, perhaps, he is just too busy.
And the same applies to Prakash. Prakash does not owe the world and Shugerman a reply just because Shugerman is 101% sure Prakash is wrong. A failure to reply simply means that Shugerman gets the last word, and people have to decide who has the better argument.
Even now, at this late date, Shugerman might reply to my critique. But if he does so now, that is some eight years after-the-fact, that is a tell. Moreover, the Foreign Emoluments Clause and the Domestic (Presidential) Emoluments Clause are likely to be in the news again very soon. Perhaps as early as Monday, January 20, 2025, at noon. Given that Shugerman's Slate article is likely to be cited in renewed scholarship and renewed briefing, there is good reason for him to consider addressing the difficulties which I have flagged in this blog post. But "good reason" does not amount to an academic duty or other moral obligation. After all, if you are the sort who will rely on an article in Slate, absent footnotes and links justifying ambitious documentary claims, that is on you. What I can say is that if Shugerman revises his position in light of my critique, and he does so some eight years after the fact, that leaves Prakash with some time to reassess his position in a similar fashion. After all, Shugerman was responding to a 2023 Prakash publication in Harvard Law Review—so that leaves Prakash with a good seven years to decide what to do.
Fair is fair.
Banning Rideshare Driver from Airport for Telling Another Driver to "Move His 'Ass'" May Violate First Amendment
From Tuesday's decision by Chief Judge Richard Myers in Glover v. RDU Airport Authority (E.D.N.C.):
Plaintiffs allege that Plaintiff Glover, a rideshare driver who regularly serviced the Raleigh-Durham International Airport ("Airport"), sought assistance from Defendant concerning a male rideshare driver "who had been stalking, harassing, and intimidating her." One of Defendant's officers told Plaintiff Glover that there was nothing he could do about the harassment. Plaintiff Glover attempted to fill out a statement regarding the male driver's actions but was threatened (by another of Defendant's officers) with a lifetime ban if she submitted the statement to Defendant. Instead of completing the statement, Plaintiff Glover warned the male driver that she had reported his conduct to Defendant.
At that point, the male driver complained to Defendant about a months-old incident where Plaintiff Glover had told the male driver to move his "ass" in the Airport's rideshare staging lot if he did not "like" where he was "parked." After receiving that complaint from the male driver, Defendant allegedly banned Plaintiff Glover from the Airport's property for life, and admitted that the ban was due to the male driver's report that she said "a curse word."
Free Speech and Private Power: No Decision About Speaker- and Content-Based Protections
[I am serializing my short Harvard Law Review Forum essay titled "Free Speech and Private Power", responding to the Harvard Law Review's publication of Evelyn Douek & Genevieve Lakier's excellent new article, Lochner.com? I actually agree with much of what Douek & Lakier say, but offer a somewhat different perspective on the matter, mostly asking what the Court's recent cases mean going forward, rather than trying to critique them.]
The Florida law in Moody didn't ban all removals by platforms: It banned only removal of materials posted by political candidates and journalistic organizations, as well as material about political candidates. The Texas law covered speakers and topics generally, but banned only viewpoint discrimination, and not viewpoint-neutral content discrimination, and excluded expression that "is the subject of a … request from an organization with the purpose of … protecting survivors of sexual abuse from ongoing harassment." Likewise, even bans on viewpoint discrimination in direct messaging would presumably need to have some exclusions for spam, and determining what is spam may sometimes involve content judgments.
Would such rules themselves be viewed as impermissibly content-based? The Court left this question unsettled. The Court did not, for instance, resolve whether the laws should be judged under "strict or intermediate scrutiny," because it concluded that any restrictions on the platforms' newsfeeds—their "curated compilation[s]"—would fail even intermediate scrutiny.
Nor do the Court's precedents resolve the issue. To be sure, laws that restrict speech are generally subject to strict scrutiny if they are content-based, even if they are viewpoint-neutral. But the Court has never decided how courts should review laws that selectively protect speech from private restrictions, as many laws do.
Lawless V: Where Do We Go from Here?
There are ways to reform, but it won't be easy.
This isn't rocket science. University officials know how to set campus culture. Whether it's entrepreneurship, public service, environmental consciousness, or anything else, they instill values in their students all the time. It wouldn't be that hard to do with commitments to academic freedom, intellectual diversity, civil discourse, and returning to the core educational mission of truth-seeking and knowledge-creation. Fixing campus cultures seems like a management issue.
Indeed, the University of Chicago has largely avoided cancel-culture issues even in the last five years of campus upheaval. Former president Robert Zimmer was a rarity among his peers in standing up to all sorts of moral panics, most notably in defending geophysics professor Dorian Abbot's right to criticize the university's affirmative action programs.
UChicago's law school, which is where I got my JD, has similarly avoided shoutdowns and the like. For example, when a student facilitated the disruptive protest of an event regarding Israel in April 2019, he was effectively expelled and there haven't been any incidents since.
Creating such an environment requires intentional effort, which is to say: leadership. Dean Thomas Miles gave a presentation to alumni in May 2023 that explained the formula. First, he set out the "community priorities," which consisted of: (1) imparting the law school's core values (academic rigor, free inquiry, intellectual curiosity, and dialogue), (2) fostering a climate in which students build community and class affinity, (3) encouraging professionalism and respectful communication, (4) fostering a sense of belonging, and (5) promoting wellness and resilience. Miles had a separate slide on the freedom of expression, in which he discussed introducing students to the Chicago Principles (on which more shortly). Miles noted that the faculty works hard to "educate our community," including with orientation exercises and the practice of model discourse, as at roundtables where professors debate controversial issues.
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