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The original jurisdiction of the U.S. Supreme Court is a topic of scholarly interest but little practical significance. The original jurisdiction of state supreme courts is exactly the opposite—it is virtually absent from the scholarly literature but of significant practical importance. For example, dozens of cases related to elections, COVID-19 responses, and abortion were filed in the original jurisdiction of state supreme courts in the last few years. Legislatures also recognize the importance of original jurisdiction, as state legislators have proposed dozens of recent bills to change the scope of original jurisdiction. This Article offers a comprehensive review of the original jurisdiction of state supreme courts. The Article and its Appendix include a catalog of the original jurisdiction law of all fifty states; a survey of scores of recent original actions related to elections, COVID-19, and abortion; and a review of relevant legislation from the last decade. This Article also analyzes the distinct functional and institutional considerations relevant to state original jurisdiction. Functionally, original jurisdiction limits opportunities for appellate review, shifts fact-finding responsibility, and has the potential to permit quicker resolution of disputes. Original jurisdiction also has the capacity to streamline litigation, presenting cleaner questions to the high court without the frictions of lower court litigation. Institutionally, original jurisdiction distributes agenda-setting power among courts, parties, and legislatures. Original jurisdiction takes power from lower courts, depriving them of any opportunity to shape the course of litigation. Meanwhile, original jurisdiction often gives power to the state supreme court, though original jurisdiction also may make it more difficult for courts to engage in “avoidance” maneuvers that sometimes serve their interests. Original jurisdiction also interacts with party control, as it affects the ability of parties to shop for friendly forums. Aware of these effects, legislatures can use original jurisdiction to achieve their preferred outcomes, for example by channeling cases to ideologically friendly high courts—and away from ideologically hostile lower courts that might make mischief along the way. This analysis has both theoretical and practical relevance. Theoretically, the capacity of decisions about original jurisdiction to advantage some political parties and causes over others shows its familial resemblance to the more often studied phenomena of court curbing and court-packing. Practically, while original jurisdiction is often designed to serve neutral values, it has the capacity to serve partisan ends—and given our political polarization, we should expect partisanship to play an increasing role in these seemingly neutral choices.

Traditionally, corporate fiduciary duties are said to run to the corporation itself. But what does this mean? Something, this Article argues, that is quite different from what both shareholder and stakeholder value maximization proponents think. Specifically, the argument is that corporate fiduciary duties are owed not to any flesh-and-blood stakeholder, including current shareholders, but rather to a hypothetical permanent investor whose holding period is forever. Like any statement of corporate purpose, this “permanent equity maximization norm” is rooted in an underlying model of the corporation. In this case, the underlying model must be one that sees the corporation as a vehicle uniquely designed for long-term capital allocation and therefore emphasizes the corporation’s perpetual existence as the most important attribute for understanding its nature. This interpretation of corporate fiduciary duties—what this Article calls the “neoclassical view”—does a better job than alternatives in explaining various puzzling features of corporate law, including the apparently conflicting focus on shareholder value maximization on the one hand and the reluctance, on the other, to hold corporate fiduciaries who engage in insider trading liable for common law fraud. It also explains the allocation of decision rights in the corporation, including why decision-making power is located in the board but also why shareholders have the right to bring derivative lawsuits and vote on certain matters. Under this view, the shareholder franchise is less about giving voice to shareholders and more about providing a tool the board can use at its choosing to generate information to help it in the difficult task of long-term capital allocation. Perhaps the most important implication stemming from this neoclassical view of corporate fiduciary duty law is that, although a corporation deals in contracts, the corporation itself is not a creature of contract, and corporate law is not necessarily contractarian as a fundamental matter. Rather, the corporation represents a policy decision to create an entity designed for extreme long-term capital allocation without sacrificing a liquid securities market. More generally, this analysis demonstrates that the concern over “short-termism” in the corporation is not simply a passing fancy but rather is deeply embedded in fiduciary duty law and lies at the core of what a corporation is.

Conventional wisdom has long perceived the patent and tort systems as separate legal entities, each tasked with a starkly different mission. Patent law rewards novel ideas; tort law deters harmful conduct. Against this backdrop, this Essay uncovers the opposing effects of patent and tort law on innovation, introducing the “injurer-innovator problem.” Patent law incentivizes injurers—often uniquely positioned to make technological breakthroughs—by allowing them to profit from licensing their inventions to competitors. Yet tort law, by imposing liability for failures to invest in care, forces injurers to incur the cost of implementing their own inventions. When the cost of self-implementation exceeds the revenues that may be reaped from patenting new technologies, injurers are better off refraining from developing socially desirable inventions. The injurer-innovator problem remarkably persists under both negligence and strict liability regimes, and in the face of different victim types. Multiple real-world examples demonstrate the extent and pervasiveness of this phenomenon. To realign the incentives provided by the patent and tort systems, this Essay proposes a new legal construct: anti-patents. While a standard patent grants an inventor the exclusive right to use its invention, an anti-patent creates the converse exclusivity regime: the inventor, and only the inventor, is not required to use the invention. Importantly, anti-patents retain the existing patent protection, allowing injurer-innovators to charge monopolistic prices from competitors but simultaneously eliminating the obstacle created by tort law. An injurer-innovator who owns an anti-patent will enjoy immunity from the heightened standard of care to which the rest of the industry would now be subject. The Essay further shows that the anti-patent mechanism not only succeeds at harmonizing patent and tort law toward the advancement of technological progress but also outperforms alternative schemes employed to stimulate innovation (i.e., prizes, grants, and tax benefits). Finally, it ties the logic that underlies anti-patents to existing doctrines designed to elicit the disclosure of private information.

This Article interrogates the conventional understanding of United States v. Klein, a Reconstruction Era decision that concerned Congress’s effort to remove appellate jurisdiction from the Supreme Court in a lawsuit seeking compensation for abandoned property confiscated by the United States during the Civil War. Scholars often celebrate the decision for protecting judicial independence; so, too, they applaud the decision for shielding property rights against arbitrary legislative action and for preserving executive clemency from legislative encroachment. Absent from all contemporary accounts of Klein is its racialized context: The decision allowed an unelected judiciary to disable Congress from blocking the president’s promiscuous use of the pardon power to obstruct policies aimed at racial equality. These policies included land distribution to emancipated slaves—the proverbial “forty acres and a mule.” Klein, we show, was one of a number of Supreme Court decisions that helped to restore a white supremacist, aristocratic power base in the South. In particular, the decision is a coda to a tragic story in which property, central to the political reconstruction of the South on a multiracial basis, was returned to former enslavers and those who did commerce with them. This Article makes three contributions. First, it augments the traditional narrative about Klein by highlighting the land dreams of Black freedom seekers and the Union’s broken commitments to Blacks about land acquisition and the promise of full citizenship, rather than exclusively focusing on the compensation claims of Confederate rebels and their allies. Second, it explores the erasure of racial politics from scholarly discussion of Klein, and the ways in which a purportedly neutral jurisdictional rule achieved extreme racialized effects. We argue that the Court’s assertion of interpretive supremacy was partner to partisan efforts to defeat Reconstruction that worked to maintain Black people in a subordinate class subject to legalized violence and economic exploitation. In particular, we bring the decision into dialogue with Reconstruction Era constitutional decisions, and examine how the Court’s reasoning and its implicit valorization of a “Lost Cause” ideology set the foundation for a hollowed-out construction of the Fourteenth Amendment that equates Black citizenship with emancipation only, without regard to the material conditions that make freedom and equality possible. Finally, we raise questions whether acknowledging Klein’s racialized context might motivate reassessing as well as reorienting the notion of jurisdictional neutrality and jurisdictional doctrines involving federalism, separation of powers, and federal judicial power.

This Comment seeks to resolve a dispute among district courts on how to interpret the term “ground” in 35 U.S.C. § 315(e)(2), the America Invents Act’s (AIA) estoppel provision. The question of whether a party that asserts a printed publication or patent in an inter partes review (IPR) proceeding is estopped from asserting real-world prior art, such as a device, in a later civil action under § 315(e)(2) has resulted in a district court split. Some courts have construed the estoppel provision narrowly, reasoning that because a physical object like a device is not something that could have been raised during IPR, estoppel cannot apply. Under this interpretation, “ground” is interpreted to mean a piece of evidence. Because physical products are not the same type of evidence offered during IPR, litigants are not estopped from using them in later civil actions. On the other side of this, courts have determined that estoppel can apply, but does not in situations where the physical object being raised is either “superior and separate” or presents a “substantive difference” to the paper prior art raised in IPR. Here, “ground” is interpreted to mean argument, such that estoppel applies when the device offers no arguments other than those already put forth during IPR—in other words, when litigation would be duplicative. The resolution to this question carries significant consequences for the cost, efficiency, and institutional division of labor of the patent system. This Comment argues that the AIA’s text and purpose support adopting the substantive difference approach. This approach strikes a workable balance in focusing on the legal arguments to ensure that litigants are not unduly relitigating the same arguments already decided by the Patent Trial and Appeal Board (PTAB). The substantive difference approach also advances the AIA’s purpose in offering IPR as a cheaper, faster alternative to district court litigation. It also promotes a reasonable division of responsibilities between the PTAB and district courts. Overall, as this Comment explains, this interpretation best aligns with the patent system’s goals.

Government detention is a quid pro quo: the government may deprive persons of their physical liberty, but in exchange, it owes them a level of care. The critical question is, how much care does the Constitution require the government to provide? In a series of federal judicial decisions (collectively, the detainee medical care doctrine), courts have found that the Constitution requires different standards of care for different classes of government detainees. These courts’ standard of care for immigrant detainees is erroneous. Modern U.S. immigration detention’s descriptive resemblance to criminal confinement has prompted courts to (wrongly) find that immigrant detainees are constitutionally entitled to the same standard of medical care as pretrial criminal detainees. Yet, the constitutionally civil status of immigration detention distinguishes it from pretrial criminal detention in doctrinally salient ways such that the Constitution entitles immigrant detainees to a higher standard of medical care. This Comment charts a path to conforming the immigration detention jurisprudence within the doctrine to what the Constitution requires by answering this question of law, which was recently unsettled by the Supreme Court’s 2015 decision in Kingsley v. Hendrickson and the Fourth Circuit’s 2021 decision in Doe 4 ex rel. Lopez v. Shenandoah Valley Juvenile Center Commission: What adjudicatory standard should govern immigrant detainees’ claims of constitutionally inadequate medical care? After devising a doctrinal test and applying it to immigrant detainees, this Comment concludes that the Constitution entitles them to “medical professional judgment”: medical care must not substantially depart from accepted medical standards.

Trade secret litigation is on the rise. Meanwhile, modern standing cases have forced courts and commentators to reevaluate what sorts of legal injuries bring factual injuries with them, such that federal courts can adjudicate them as a “case” or “controversy” under Article III of the Constitution. This Comment studies the intersection of Article III standing and federal trade secret law. It is the first piece to provide a taxonomy of trade secret violations and factual injuries in the shadow of standing doctrine’s demand for an injury-in-fact. This Comment submits a bold yet plausible claim: Article III standing should be in question for certain violations of the Defend Trade Secrets Act (DTSA)—improper acquisition and threatened misappropriation. Challenging standing in these cases will ensure that federal courts remain within their constitutional mandate. Moreover, challenging standing in certain trade secret cases will help encourage employee mobility in the marketplace. While this Comment urges courts to assure themselves of Article III standing in these cases, it acknowledges that plaintiffs will have forceful responses to standing arguments made against them. A back-and-forth rally between plaintiffs and defendants will help courts reach the correct results, as the adversarial process intends. At bottom, this piece challenges what some seem to take as a given: that trade secret plaintiffs who plausibly allege a violation of the DTSA have necessarily suffered an injury-in-fact.

Can an individual who was held in pretrial detention but not criminally convicted as a result of fabricated evidence raise a due process claim under 42 U.S.C. § 1983? The answer is unclear. In 2017, the Supreme Court in Manuel v. City of Joliet held that claims for unlawful pretrial detention are governed by the Fourth Amendment. Since then, the Seventh Circuit has asserted that the Fourth Amendment is the only source of redress under § 1983 for wrongful pretrial detention caused by fabricated evidence. By contrast, several circuits have opined that Manuel does not foreclose the possibility that individuals held in pretrial detention due to fabricated evidence may raise § 1983 Fourteenth Amendment claims for due process injuries caused by fabricated evidence. These claims would be in addition to § 1983 Fourth Amendment claims for wrongful pretrial detention. A circuit split has thus emerged regarding what § 1983 claims may be brought by plaintiffs who were placed in pretrial detention because of fabricated evidence. This Comment argues that pretrial detention that is caused by fabricated evidence implicates both the Fourth Amendment and Fourteenth Amendment. Accordingly, injured parties should be entitled to raise claims under § 1983 based on violations of either (or both) of these amendments.

Over the past decade, a growing number of Delaware corporations have adopted forum selection bylaws. These bylaws often require that all derivative claims against a company’s officers or directors be resolved in Delaware state courts. But what happens when a shareholder brings a derivative claim that Delaware courts do not have jurisdiction to adjudicate? This issue arises when Delaware forum selection bylaws are applied to derivative claims arising under § 14(a) of the Securities and Exchange Act of 1934, because the Exchange Act instructs that only federal courts may resolve such claims. In this context, Delaware corporations may seek to exploit forum selection bylaws as a jurisdictional loophole to bar shareholders from pursuing derivative Exchange Act claims in any court. In effect, the bylaws enable defendant corporations to designate a substitute referee—Delaware courts—that they already know is disqualified from adjudicating Exchange Act claims, which inevitably forfeits the game in their favor. Circuits have split on whether to enforce Delaware forum selection bylaws when they are applied to derivative § 14(a) claims. This Comment proposes an alternative approach to resolve the circuit split. The proposed approach revives the historically underutilized “unreasonableness exception” to enforceability, which the Supreme Court established in M/S Bremen v. Zapata Off-Shore Co. This Comment contends that Bremen’s unreasonableness exception must be understood as a context-specific inquiry. It should be applied liberally to forum selection clauses contained in corporate bylaws, and as applied to derivative Exchange Act claims. Under this proposed approach, Delaware forum selection bylaws are unenforceable as applied to derivative § 14(a) claims.

Law develops through collective effort. A single judge may write a judicial opinion, but only after an (often large) group of lawyers chooses litigation strategies, crafts arguments, and presents their positions. Despite their important role in the legal process, these networks of lawyers are almost uniformly overlooked in legal scholarship—a black box in a discipline otherwise obsessed with institutional detail. This Article focuses on a particularly crucial way that the structure of professional networks may shape the path of the law. Prior qualitative research suggests that networks are an important source of information, mentoring, and opportunity, and that those social resources are often withheld from lawyers who do not mirror the characteristics of the typically male, wealthy, straight, and white incumbents in the field. We have a common nickname for the networks that result, which are ostensibly open but often closed in practice: “old boys’ networks.” For the first time in legal scholarship, this Article quantitatively analyzes gender representation within a comprehensive network of judges and litigators over a significant period of time. The network studied is derived from cases before the Delaware Court of Chancery, a systemically important trial court that adjudicates the most—and the most important—corporate law disputes in the United States. Seventeen years of docket entries across more than fifteen thousand matters and two thousand seven hundred attorneys were collected as the basis for a massive network. Analyzing the Chancery Litigation Network produces a number of important findings. First, we find a dramatic and persistent gender gap in the network. Women are not only outnumbered in the network but also more peripheral within it compared to men. Second, we find that law firm membership and geographical location interact with gender—women’s positions within the network differ by membership in certain firms or residence in particular geographies. Finally, as we drill down into the personal networks of individual women, we find arresting evidence of the social barriers female Chancery litigators regularly confront: from working overwhelmingly—sometimes exclusively—with men in the early years of their careers to still being shut out of male-dominated cliques as their careers mature.

This Article presents evidence that some state prosecutors use their discretion to reduce racial disparities in criminal sentences. This finding challenges the prevailing view that prosecutors compound disparities. Given prosecutors’ positions as mediators in a sequential system, this Article analyzes how prosecutors respond to disparities they inherit from the past—and interprets their impacts in light of the accumulated disparities that already exist when they first open their case files. Specifically, I estimate how the sentencing penalty for prior convictions differs by defendant race using North Carolina state court records from 2010 to 2019. I find that the increase in the likelihood of a prison sentence for an additional prior conviction was 25% higher for white than Black defendants with similar arrests and criminal records. While Black and white defendants without criminal records were incarcerated at similar rates, white defendants with records were incarcerated at significantly higher rates. And the longer the record, the greater the divergence. To understand this finding, I link an original survey of 203 prosecutors to their real-world cases. This survey-to-case linkage helps reveal how prosecutors’ beliefs about past racial bias influence their decision-making. I find that the subset of prosecutors who attribute racial disparities in the criminal legal system to racial bias have lower prison rates for Black defendants with criminal records than facially similar white defendants, thereby offsetting past disparities. In concrete terms, racial disparities in North Carolina prison rates in 2019 would have increased by 20% had the state mandated equal treatment of defendants with similar case files. These findings should lead reformers to exercise caution when considering calls to limit or eliminate prosecutorial discretion. Blinding prosecutors to defendant race—a policy that jurisdictions are increasingly implementing—may inadvertently increase disparities by neutralizing the offsetting effects of some prosecutors. While race-blind charging ensures that prosecutors do not introduce new bias, it also ensures that any past bias is passed through to current (and future) decisions.

In the 1990s, Congress passed the Prisoner Litigation Reform Act (PLRA) to decrease frivolous prisoner litigation. One PLRA provision that was aimed at accomplishing that goal is § 1997e(e), which states that no prisoner can bring a federal civil action for mental or emotional injury without a showing of an accompanying physical injury. This provision has created a circuit split over whether prisoners who suffer a violation of their Free Exercise rights under the First Amendment can recover compensatory damages. If the split is left unresolved, it will lead to a troubling lack of uniformity in the law for federal prisoners, who are a group of uniquely vulnerable litigants given their lack of access to resources. This Comment argues that to achieve uniformity and avoid the complications of the First Amendment circuit split, federal prisoners should bring their claims under the Religious Freedom Restoration Act (RFRA) instead. In Tanzin v. Tanvir, the Supreme Court explicitly ruled that monetary damages are available as a form of “appropriate relief” under RFRA. This Comment asserts that “appropriate relief” should include compensatory damages for prisoners for a number of reasons. These reasons include RFRA’s “super statute” status, the imperfect fit of other noncompensatory remedies such as injunctive relief and nominal damages when religious freedom rights are violated, the failure to serve PLRA’s stated purpose of decreasing frivolous prisoner litigation by barring recovery of compensatory damages, and consistency with the Supreme Court’s separation of powers doctrine. Therefore, federal prisoners should be able to recover compensatory damages under RFRA when their religious freedom rights are violated.