The "Tipsy Coachman Rule" (in Florida)

DUI, appellate procedure, rap battles, and Edmund Burke, together in one post.

Most courts take the view that "if a trial court reaches the right result, but for the wrong reasons, it will be upheld if there is any basis which would support the judgment in the record." But Florida courts are unusual in that they call it the "tipsy coachman rule." (Thanks to Jenny Wilson for the pointer.)

The rule apparently emerged from a Georgia case, but the label didn't stick as much in that state. Here's the explanation from what seems to be the font of the rule, Lee v. Porter (Ga. 1879):

It not infrequently happens that a judgment is affirmed upon a theory of the case which did not occur to the court that rendered it, or which did occur and was expressly repudiated. The human mind is so constituted that in many instances it finds the truth when wholly unable to find the way that leads to it.

"The pupil of impulse, it forc'd him along,
His conduct still right, with his argument wrong;
Still aiming at honor, yet fearing to roam
The coachman was tipsy, the chariot drove home."

The passage itself is from the poem Retaliation by Oliver Goldsmith, apparently written as part of a 1770s rap battle, where a group of writers who knew one another roasted each other with epithets. This one appears to have been aimed at William Burke, a Member of Parliament, perhaps a relative of Edmund Burke, and "one of the supposed authors of Junius's Letters."

The immediately preceding epithet, by the way, was for Edmund Burke himself, and began:

Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such,
We scarcely can praise it, or blame it too much;
Who, born for the universe, narrow'd his mind,
And to party gave up what was meant for mankind:
Tho' fraught with all learning, yet straining his throat
To persuade Tommy Townshend to lend him a vote;
Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining,
And thought of convincing, while they thought of dining;
Though equal to all things, for all things unfit;
Too nice for a statesman, too proud for a wit;
For a patriot, too cool; for a drudge, disobedient;
And too fond of the right to pursue the expedient.

To go further down the historical connections rabbit hole, Tommy Townshend likely refers to the MP after whom Sydney, Australia was eventually named. Coming soon: Lin-Manuel Miranda, Appellate Procedure: The Musical.

Comments

[Krychek_2]

I actually have a case right now where there's a tipsy coachman issue. The trial court entered judgment, it was appealed, and the court of appeal disposed of the case with a per curiam affirmance, meaning they affirmed without explaining themselves.

There is now a second case, same parties, in which the defendant is arguing issue preclusion based on the previous case. I represent the plaintiff. Our pitch is that thanks to tipsy coachman, we don't actually know the basis for the appellate court's ruling; it may have been the same rationale the trial court used, or it may not have been. (The attorney who handled the first case -- wasn't me -- didn't properly preserve the issue for appeal, so it's likely the appellate court didn't decide it, but again, since it's a PCA, we don't actually know.) All we know for certain is that there's a judgment, but the judgment may or may not have been on the issue that's now at stake in the second case. And, since issue preclusion is a defense, it's up to the defendant to prove that it was decided in the previous case.

I'm not actually convinced, candidly, that that's a great argument, but the client is adamant about going forward and is willing to pay, so off to court we go.

[Voize of Reazon]

Presumably the defense will argue that the appeal didn't disturb the opinion of the lower court so it is still the final determination on the issues.

[Krychek_2]

Yes, that will be their argument. Our response is that the question is not whether the entire case is res judicata, but rather whether that specific claim is precluded. We're not seeking to re-litigate the entire case.

The way it arose is that the first case was in state court, the second case is in federal court, and the defendant has moved to dismiss on Rooker Feldman grounds. The federal case has a number of issues that were never raised, and hence never resolved, in the state case. Rooker Feldman is basically dead in my circuit anyway, and I expect the court to say that Rooker Feldman no longer applies. But my backup argument is that since we don't actually know which issues the state court resolved, you can't really claim that it's an appeal to the federal court.

[Stephen Lathrop]

Spectacular stuff. Too bad we don't run Senate debate in that style.

[Cal Cetín]

"My honorable friend will either die on the gallows or of the pox."

"That depends on whether I embrace your Lordship's principles or your Lordship's mistress."

Which was followed by the following lesser-known riposte:

"Sir, I know that you are, but what am I?"

[Alan Vanneman]

Burke was sometimes referred to as "the dinner bell". Parliamentary sessions usually didn't really get going until the evening. When Burke rose to deliver one of his long, carefully wrought speeches, many members would leave.

[Krayt]

Aren't almost all laws tipsy coachmen? The real reason is corruption, winning elections for future corruption, or twisting the arms of other politicians, so you can effectively wield power for corruption?

Did nobody watch House of Cards, or hear of the Kennedy rule (reward your friends but punish your enemies), or, I don't know, look about at human history where the reason to go into government is to be corrupt so you can earn a nice life for your family?

[The Turtle Dove]

Well, like most things, there might be a subvening logic at work here, one that's only imperfectly recognized in the judicial wiseacring on the rule. Under the UK common law, writs of Error ran (as quickly as they could) to Kings Bench or some similarly prestigious panel; that is, if the court couldn't be convinced to revisit their own judgment. Statutory appeal, on the other hand was a creation of the courts of Chancery, and that's the form (with, if I remember right, some exceptions coming from equally-footed-yet-somehow-more-venerable states in and around the Third Circuit) that the American system uses. Chancery, qua Equity, looks to see if somebody's been hurt who shouldn't have been hurt, so it makes sense that (as frequently also is the case in administrative law proceedings) an appeal can be resolved by pointing out that while the judge's clerk might have blundered, no one was hurt unjustly. Affirming on any basis in the record answers a claim of being hurt, but obviously doing so couldn't redress a claim that a specific error of law had been made.

As for Goldsmith's doggerel, it's consonant as well with the Hegelian notion of historical truth as subvening logic coming to recognize itself in consciousness, but only by fits and starts. The implacable planets in their courses follow a logic that they are dumb to, but we creatures of reason (and also the lawyers), as creatures operating by logic, are able to recognize the logic that animates our deeds, choices, and even the internet comments cast like bread into a pond completely barren of ducks.

Mr. D.