Author: Jeffrey Kahn

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Pretext, the Rule of Law, and the Good Official

Justice Scalia, author of Whren v. United States and Ashcroft v. al-Kidd (used with permission, www.courtartist.com)

How should citizens in a republic bound by the rule of law regard the pretextual use of law by state officials?  If the United States Supreme Court is any indicator of the answer in our own republic, we are pretty ambivalent about pretext. 

Sometimes we don’t care very much.  In its most well-known case on the subject, Whren v. United States (1996), the Court upheld the pretextual use of the traffic code (which was prolix enough to be violated sooner or later by just about any car on the road).  Whren’s car was stopped by a vice squad cop who had a hunch (but not probable cause to believe) that Whren had drugs in his car.  One lesson of this case is that you should always signal before making a turn.  Justice Scalia, writing for a unanimous Court, had another one: the police are free to do “under the guise of enforcing the traffic code what they would like to do for different reasons.”  In other words, a green light to pretextual traffic stops.

Sometimes, we care a great deal.  In Kelo v. City of New London (2005), the Supreme Court categorically rejected the idea that government officials may “be allowed to take property under the mere pretext of a public purpose, when [their] actual purpose was to bestow a private benefit.”  Likewise, interpreting Title VII in their concurrence in Ricci v. DeStefano (2009) (which concerned a city fire department), Justices Alito, Scalia, and Thomas highlighted the subjective component of liability in a civil suit for employment discrimination in a disparate-treatment case: the employer is liable if its facially legitimate reason for a decision turns out to be “just a pretext for discrimination.”  Justice Frankfurter long ago chastised the Court for sustaining a law “because Congress wrapped the legislation in the verbal cellophane of a revenue measure.”  The concept of limited and enumerated powers seems to suggest a general disapproval of pretext.

Does repeated pretextualism — whether one is making or enforcing the law — weaken the rule of law?  When tempted to use a law for an unintended purpose, how should the “good” official (read the adjective however you like) distinguish an innovative use from a destructive one?  My own motivation for this research stems from concern that using law to achieve an objective that the law was clearly unintended to achieve might do something destructive to the rule of law itself.  Maybe it does some harm to the official who wields power in that pretextual way, too, an official who may be the worst-placed government agent to exercise the sort of discretion that creative administration of the law demands.  Pretextualism may be habit-forming and, like cigarettes, unhealthy.

After the break, I’ll share my working definition of pretext and two cases separated by more than fifty years, but adopting the same pretextual technique to evade restrictions on government action.  One involves a Soviet spy whose case troubled the Supreme Court so much that the Court heard oral argument twice.  Surprisingly, that case foretold and influenced the “easy” Whren case.  The other involves a former college football player caught up in the current “War on Terror.”  That case, Ashcroft v. al-Kidd, was decided in May, also referencing Whren, but this time without such unanimity and with a lot more unease about pretext.

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“The first thing we do, let’s [train] all the lawyers.”

David Segal has a front-page, above-the-fold article in today’s New York Times, What They Don’t Teach Law Students: Lawyering.  Segal blasts legal education for failing to produce prêt-à-porter lawyers sized to fit the needs of everyone from Skadden Arps to solo practitioners.  Segal also denies the value of “pure” research — law review articles and other scholarly output that do not satisfy his requirements for immediate application to daily practice.  Gerard Magliocca and Alex Guerrero already commented on one of his examples.  As with Dick the Butcher’s suggestion in Shakespeare’s Henry VI, Part 2, Segal’s article is wrong on both teaching and research.

First, teaching.  I think that when law schools succeed at their mission they do produce graduates with skills ready for use in any legal environment.  It’s just that developing the skill set that Segal prioritizes (such as his opening example: filing a certificate of merger with a secretary of state) is not the sole, let alone primary, goal of legal education.  Those form-filling and filing skills are important, but best honed by firms that daily engage in those specialized, localized, and technical operations.  Law schools, in contrast, have the advantage in teaching the general skills and knowledge that firms of all sizes (as well as government agencies and corporations) have neither the time, inclination, nor resources to perfect.  But these organizations desperately need these things in the lawyers they hire: critical thinking, professional standards, ethical judgment, and historical perspective (to name a few).

Unlike medical schools and engineering programs, law schools do not set out to create technicians.  (I suspect that the best medical and engineering institutions don’t have this goal either, but this is the common comparison.)  Law schools, especially, should produce graduates comfortably inclined to question the status quo, challenge assumed truths, and think about the long-term implications of their actions as members of a learned profession.  Over time, one hopes that their training will combine with experience to produce in them judgment about when each skill should take a leading role.  Lawyers with these skills are needed in any age, but especially one that produced such colossal fails ranging from Enron to government-sanctioned torture.

Second, research.  I also reject Segal’s essentially anti-intellectual critique of research.  Last spring, I was asked by a high-level Russian official to write a report on a verdict in a criminal case.  That report explored the many departures from Russia’s obligations under the European Convention on Human Rights to be found in that verdict, but it also raised serious questions about fundamental aspects of Russian law.  The report could hardly qualify as research readily useful to the day-to-day activities of a practitioner at the bar of any American state or the present Russian one.  Nevertheless, I found that the research that I conducted, the exercise of drafting my report, and the report itself generated useful starting points for several discussions in classes that I teach on American law.  Those conversations ranged from an aspect of the famous Chenery case in my Administrative Law class to an editing exercise in a seminar on counterterrorism.  Needless to say, I hope it also makes a positive impact in Russia when it is released next month.

Those teaching moments were hard to foresee at the outset of my research.  But anyone who values knowledge for its own sake would not be surprised by the serendipity my Russian law work produced in my American law classrooms.  That the report led to invitations to speak to groups at universities and thinktanks in the U.S., U.K., Sweden, Norway, Finland, and Belgium also suggests that what counts as valuable research might benefit from a less cramped definition than Segal and company provide.

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Leo, J. Edgar, and Ruth

Hoover or DiCaprio?

Clint Eastwood’s biopic of J. Edgar Hoover opens nationwide tomorrow.  The New York Times’s Manohla Dargis liked it, and liked Leonardo DiCaprio in it.  So, if you can’t wait until the April release of Titanic 3D to get your Leo fix, this is your weekend.  Of course, J. Edgar is no Jack Dawson.  So you may need another reason to see the film.

Here’s one.  According to the Times review, the film begins with a voiceover by the title character: “Communism is not a political party — it is a disease.”  Strong words, but strongly felt by many back then (and a few even now).  And that’s a point worth remembering today as we continue to fight the sadly named “GWOT” — the Global War on Terror. 

Consider the year 1952, the midpoint of Hoover’s reign.  The Soviet Union had successfully tested three atomic bombs.  The Korean War was entering its third year, with hundreds of thousands of military and civilian casualties.  President Truman’s proclamation of a national emergency to fight the “world conquest by communist imperialism” led Congress to pass the Emergency Powers Continuation Act, extending the statutory duration of a wide variety of exceptional presidential powers.  Senator Joseph McCarthy had discovered communists infiltrating the United States Government.

Of course, Hoover wasn’t alone fighting communists.  Besides politicians like McCarthy, Hoover’s contemporary for much of his career was Ruth B. Shipley, the Chief of the State Department’s Passport Office.  (As it happens, Ruth’s older brother, A. Bruce Bielaski, preceded Hoover as the Director of the Bureau of Investigation, the precursor to the FBI.)  As I detail in a recent article in the Connecticut Law Review based on materials from the National Archives, Shipley controlled travel then with paper files and miles of file cabinets, but her method resonates with how we control travel today, using computerized terrorist watchlists.  Mrs. Shipley took second to no one in her zeal to keep communists and other subversives grounded.

Ruth B. Shipley, not Kate Winslet

In my forthcoming book, Mrs. Shipley’s Ghost: The Right to Travel and Terrorist Watchlists (University of Michigan Press, forthcoming 2012), I argue that Mrs. Shipley’s approach was just an analogue version of the digital No Fly List used today.  The legal and policy premises are exactly the same: some people are too dangerous to travel, but for various reasons can’t be charged with a crime or otherwise detained.  (The No Fly List is just one of many watchlists; for example, there is one for maritime travel, too.)  It is up to the FBI’s Terrorist Screening Center to craft the lists that contain their names, just as Mrs. Shipley’s Passport Office red-flagged (ironically enough) the passport applications of Americans deemed too dangerous to travel.  Your chance of obtaining redress against this system for claims of mistake or misjudgment are as slim today as they were back then, also for many of the same reasons.

A recurring criticism of my argument is that this historical analogy doesn’t work.  I’ll revisit the issue later this month (I’m about to fly — FBI-permitting — to the University of Connecticut School of Law to present my case there).  But for now, as a simple test, ask yourself whether the words of one of the country’s most successful Supreme Court lawyers describe your (and Leo’s) world or the world of Ruth and J. Edgar:

“In short, several officials gather secretly behind closed doors, peruse secret intelligence reports and purport to arrive at a fair judgment affecting not only the citizen’s right to travel but also his reputation and possibly his livelihood and financial well-being.”

The year was 1952.  The source is Eugene Gressman, The Undue Process of Passports, 127 New Republic 13, 14 (Sept. 8, 1952).

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Post-Soviet Russia: Just Like 15th Century England?

Yesterday I noted that I would blog a bit this month about the rule of law in Russia.  Today’s Wall Street Journal carries a front-page feature article by Guy Chazan that offers a rare look into the world of Russia’s oligarchs.  I’m interested in the fate of Mikhail Khodorkovsky, once Russia’s richest man, now its most famous prisoner.  Chazan’s story focuses on two more oligarchs: Boris Berezovsky and Roman Abramovich.

The collapse of the Soviet Union led to a decade in which vast fortunes could be made in the chaos of the new Russia.  These men (and they were all men) built empires from scratch on unstable legal foundations in the rubble of post-Soviet society.  The strength or permanence of the law didn’t matter much to the oligarchs; indeed, they relied on its weakness to amass their wealth.

Now that those empires need protecting, however, it is to law that the oligarchs turn.  Berezovsky, once the éminence grise behind Boris Yeltsin, now lives in luxurious self-imposed exile in London.  The WSJ reports that he is worth about $750 million.  Abramovich owns the Chelsea Football Club and the world’s largest yacht; his worth is estimated at about $16.5 billion.  Berezovsky has sued Abramovich for $6 billion, alleging that the latter violated oral agreements about various oil and metal companies in Russia.  Berezovsky claims he left his stake in them in Abramovich’s hands after he fled to London to escape the wrath of then President Vladimir Putin.

According to Abramovich’s attorney, Jonathan Sumption, there is nothing to this claim.  The dispute arose, he says, in a “society without law,” and the deal the two men made was itself “corrupt.”  That might seem like a strange legal defense but, as Sumption continued, “the reality was that that was how business was done in Russia at the time.” 

The case is being heard at London’s High Court.  To help the judge understand the millieu in which the oligarchs did business, Sumption told the court: “In our own national experience, we have to go back to the 15th century to find anything remotely comparable.” 

Maybe.  But the average Russian citizen observing this legal squabble might note that 15th century England had something that 21st century Russia lacks: Robin Hood.

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The Month Ahead: Spies, Lies, Russia, and Terrorist Watchlists

It’s great to be back at Concurring Opinions (and thanks to Danielle for the generous (re)introduction last week).  This month, I plan to blog on a few ongoing projects and some upcoming news events.  Here are two topics soon to come, with two more after the break.

(1)  Spies.  Immigration authorities seize a suspected spy in Manhattan on the grounds that he entered the country unlawfully.  Rather than process him through the immigration system, or transfer him to the criminal justice system, he is secretly flown more than a thousand miles away, interrogated without a lawyer, and kept virtually incommunicado for almost seven weeks in a government facility on the Texas-Mexican border.  When he doesn’t break, he is transferred back to New York to be tried in federal court for a capital offense.  The evidence from his warrantless arrest and secret detention helps to convict him. 

When did this happen?

No surprise that the story resonates with our national security debates today.  But it all happened during the Eisenhower Administration.  Rudolf Abel was the top Soviet spy in North America before he was convicted of atomic espionage.  Thanks to his lawyer, his life was spared (and he was later exchanged for U-2 pilot Francis Gary Powers).  I think that there are lessons to be learned from this history today, but mine seems to be the minority view.

(2)  Lies.  Okay, not lies exactly, but pretext.  (You try rhyming pretext with anything.  You’ll wind up perplexed, if not vexed, with the text that comes next.)  Pretextual use of the law is all around us.  The most common example is the law governing arrests.  In Whren v. United States, the Supreme Court unanimously agreed that the police were free to do “under the guise of enforcing the traffic code what they would like to do for different reasons,” namely, stop and search Whren’s car for drugs.  Abel’s case (referenced in Whren) presented another classic instance of pretext: his detention for an immigration violation was used for the unintended purpose of counterespionage, neatly skirting in the process constitutional protections against warrantless searches and seizures, not to mention official disappearances.  When Abel’s able lawyer argued pretext, however, the Supreme Court sustained the conviction.

Sometimes the law abhors pretext.  For example, in Kelo v. City of New London, the Supreme Court categorically rejected the idea that the state may take property under the pretext of a public purpose.  How should citizens regard the pretextual use of the law by state officials?  Does such use tend to weaken the rule of law in ways that should matter to us as individuals or as a society?  When tempted to use a law for an unintended purpose, how should the “good” official distinguish an innovative pretextual use from a destructive one?  The Supreme Court dodged these questions just last term in Ashcroft v. Al-Kidd and I’d like to think hard about why.

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Tempus Fugit

I enjoyed my time as a guest of Concurring Opinions, but my monthlong visit is over.  Having never blogged before January, I had no idea how fast time would fly.  So thanks to Danielle Citron and Daniel Solove for extending the invitation to me and for providing the easy-to-use tutorial and sound advice on how, what, and when to post.  At the risk of melodrama, I’ll just sign off with a line from a favorite poem: “They are not long the days of wine and roses.”  And while I would not recommend blogging-while-intoxicated, that verse sums up the brief but pleasurable visit that I thoroughly enjoyed.  Thank you!

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A Debate about Connecting the Dots and the Christmas Plot

The last major news story of 2009 was the near-catastrophe on Christmas Day on Northwest Airlines Flight 253.  Debate about the lessons learned from this failed attack continues, and will continue for some time.  

This weekend, I was glad to be invited to join this debate as a participant in the new “Forum” feature over at the online Harvard National Security Law Journal.  Paul Rosenzweig, a former deputy assistant secretary for policy at the Department of Homeland Security, started us off with a short, op-ed style piece: Connecting the Dots and the Christmas Plot.  Two short responses followed yesterday and today.  The first response is by Nathan Sales, now a law professor at the George Mason School of Law and also a former deputy assistant secretary for policy at DHS (accessible here).  The second response is by me (accessible here).

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Meet Mrs. Shipley

Is it sensible to analogize between the first decade of the War on Terror and the first decade of the Cold War?  What lessons can we draw from the comparison?  I am finishing a manuscript to be published by the University of Michigan Press with the working title International Travel, National Security, and the Constitution in War and Peace.  In the book, I plan to defend this analogy, at least when it comes to the role travel restrictions have played in the national security policies of that time and our own.

Some officials and experts whom I’ve interviewed for this project thinks that this is a bad idea!  They point to differences they perceive between terrorism, al Qaeda, and asymmetrical warfare on the one hand, and communism, the Soviet Union, and the Cold War balance of power on the other.  But I also think that their reluctance to embrace the analogy is partly driven by the disconcerting feeling that it teaches the wrong lesson.  Maybe we over-reacted then, they sometimes concede, but we are certainly not over-reacting now.  Whatever shadows we boxed during the Red Scare, terrorism today is the real deal.

I’m keeping the analogy as a core feature of my book because I think that history has a lot to teach us.  Back then, very thoughtful people were certain that communism was a clear and present danger that required extraordinary measures to defeat.  The issue isn’t the objective merit of the threat assessment, but how we react to the threats we perceive.  After the break, I’ll give you a taste of this analogy by way of introducing Mrs. Ruth Shipley, whom Time magazine described in 1951 as: “the most invulnerable, most unfirable, most feared and most admired career woman in Government.”  Not only was she powerful, she was also one of a very small cohort of women to rise to the commanding heights of power in the Washington of her day.  Here she is receiving the Distinguished Service Medal from John Foster Dulles:

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3rd Annual National Security Law Faculty Workshop/IHL Training Event

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if there were an academic conference at which you could work through tough national security law issues by day, then hit the ice to train with the fastest, toughest, and most talented hockey players in the International Hockey League (IHL)?

Alas, there is no such event and I doubt there ever will be.  But the very next best thing is a workshop that will take place at the University of Texas at Austin on April 1 and 2.  In this context, IHL stands for International Humanitarian Law, of course, although I’m sure that Wayne Gretzky and his friends would be welcome guests. 

This workshop is unlike any that you may have ever attended before.  The traditional elements are all there: presentations of academic papers, discussants, serious exchanges between scholars interested in a friendly environment at which to try new ideas.  But this workshop adds something new and exciting.  For the third year in a row, instructors from the U.S. Army Judge Advocate General’s Legal Center and School and instructors from the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) will provide their perspectives on international humanitarian law in training blocks interspersed between the academic papers. 

The event is sponsored this year by the Strauss Center for International Security and Law and the ICRC.  The co-hosts are Professor Bobby Chesney (UT Austin) and Professor Geoffrey Corn (South Texas College of Law).  More details, including deadlines, are available here.

I attended the first two iterations of this workshop and came away each time thinking it was the best event I attended that year.

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Run, Don’t Walk, To Your Nearest Bookstore …

Should the fate of Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, who tried to blow up a plane over Detroit on Christmas Day, be decided by the United States military or by a federal court?  If only an Article III court could try him, does that mean that only the FBI can question him, subject to all his constitutional protections (including his right to remain silent)?  Or should he have been turned over to military interrogators immediately, as former federal judge and Attorney General Michael Mukasey suggested last week: “[h]olding Abdulmutallab for a time in military custody, regardless of where he is ultimately to be charged, would have been entirely lawful” (What Does the Detroit Bomber Know? Wall St. J. 1/16/10).

Resolving these questions isn’t easy, and certainly isn’t merely a policy choice.  Several panels at the AALS Conference in New Orleans last week were devoted to national security issues.  But more than once, I heard the leading experts in the country disagree on how to resolve this fundamental question: when must captured, suspected terrorists be tried in our criminal justice system and when should the laws of war, a.k.a. international humanitarian law (IHL) apply?

Needless to say, an understanding of the laws of war/IHL helps untangle this challenge.  But how many of us had such a course in law school?  A chance encounter with the subject in practice?  Fortunately, the best new book you can read on the subject has just been published by Oxford University Press: The War on Terror and the Laws of War: A Military Perspective.  (Full disclosure: I received a complimentary review copy.)  You can peak inside the cover at the table of contents and read reviews at its Amazon.com page.

Here are three reasons why you should have this book on your shelf:

(1)  The authors.  Geoff Corn, Eric Jensen, James Schoettler, Dick Jackson, Victor Hansen and Michael Lewis have over a century of collective experience in the United States Army and United States Navy working on the very issues they analyze.  They have been prosecutors and defense counsel, legal advisors and strike planners.  They have also been combatants themselves.  Rarely does one get the chance to read a careful, academic analysis written from the vantage point of scholars with such extensive experience with so many different facets of the subject of their study.

(2)  The subjects.  This book covers the gamut of critically important topics: the choice of law, targeting, detention, interrogation, war crimes liability, command responsibility, and the difficulty inherent in translating legal principles into on-the-ground practice.  The perspective is future oriented but also offers insights on the legal decisions and policy choices of previous administrations.  All that, under one cover, is hard to find.

(3)  The presentation.  Civilians can read this book!  It is pleasantly free of jargon, thoroughly footnoted (with both references to primary sources and useful commentary on secondary debates), and judiciously edited.  There is also a valuable thread of debate on several issues that can be traced through the authors’ contributions.  They don’t always agree themselves on all points.  This provides a further source of confidence in the thoughtful and lawyerly quality of their views, regardless of whether one agrees with them.