Law and economics (L&E) emerged as a field in the middle of the twentieth century, it focused on using economic theory to study the common law. During this period, L&E offered insights so novel that it not only profoundly influenced legal doctrine, but the movement’s key figures also became some of the most cited and acclaimed scholars in the American academy. The field of law and economics has since continued to grow and become more technically sophisticated, but it is also a less cohesive movement. Moreover, L&E has been misunderstood and misrepresented by the emerging law and political economy (LPE) movement. This Essay starts the process of reclaiming L&E by offering a definition of the current field: Contemporary law and economics is an academic field that (1) has a commitment to using the social scientific method of inquiry to (2) study questions about the law and legal institutions (3) in a way that is typically informed by economic insights. It then describes L&E’s comparative advantages, explains its relationship to the LPE movement, and suggests a roadmap for its renewed relevance.
Law and Economics
Should legal rules be designed exclusively based on efficiency considerations, or should they also attempt to promote an equitable distribution of social resources? The answer traditionally associated with scholarship in law and economics is that they should focus only on efficiency. Even for a society that cares about achieving an equitable distribution of resources by income, the argument goes, it is generally better to adopt legal rules based exclusively on efficiency considerations while relying on the income tax and transfer system to promote distributional goals. However, even proponents of the claim that social welfare is best promoted through the adoption of efficient legal rules agree that there are certain conditions under which it does not apply. This Essay considers when legal rules should be efficient and when they should not. It focuses on conditions that can cause the socially optimal legal rule to diverge from the efficient legal rule—i.e., the legal rule that would be optimal absent distributional considerations. Its goal is to translate these arguments to settings where the question of interest relates to the design of a legal rule rather than, say, the design of a commodity tax. In particular, it seeks to clarify the types of arguments that can support the adoption of inefficient legal rules when income taxation is available as a policy tool.
Mainstream antitrust policy is grounded in economics and views the protection of competition as antitrust’s singular goal. But the populist “antimonopoly movement” believes that antitrust should focus less on economic issues and more on the political influence of large firms. While the courts have long embraced the economic approach to antitrust, antimonopolists have recently gained some support in politics. This battle of ideas is therefore poised to determine the future of antitrust. Antitrust law currently suffers from a number of problems, but the antimonopoly movement does not offer serious solutions. On the contrary, by deemphasizing tangible economic harms in favor of abstract political concerns, it would cause immense economic damage. Antitrust populism is grounded in the moralistic belief that large companies are inherently detrimental to society, overlooking the fact that most big firms attained their success by providing significant economic benefits to the public, such as better products or lower prices. This Essay argues that rather than punishing bigness for its own sake, antitrust should focus on proscribing anticompetitive behavior and ensuring that all firms can compete on a level playing field.
Experiments sometimes get a bad rap. Critics allege that they don’t illuminate how the real world works, are subject to p-hacking and manipulation, and often don’t study the most important populations of interest. This Essay examines historical uses of experiments to generate knowledge for legal academia. Recently, experiments have become associated with law and economics as part of a broader coupling of quantitative empirical work with law and economics. But experimentation is a highly adaptable, if imperfect, research method that can support causal claims and test assumptions that are useful across many legal theories, including law and political economy. The Essay discusses the strengths, limits, and future directions of experiments as a mode of legal research.
Much of the focus of the live Symposium was on comparing existing scholarship associated with two intellectual communities. This Essay instead sketches the ultimate substantive nub of contestation in this conversation about the core subject matter of “the economy” and law’s relationship to it. The crux of the matter, the Essay suggests, is the analytic and normative role to be played by the idea or the picture of the self-coordinating market or economy. The arguments developed in this Essay are not primarily directed toward empirical research or scholarship being produced by L&E scholars today. Instead, the premise is that existing law and policy—and the existing legal and policy thinking through which positive proposals, issues, and cases are evaluated—are deeply shaped by the self-coordinating market picture. While much L&E research today may be primarily in a descriptive and explanatory vein, there is no escaping the essentially normative force of a theory that has, since inception and very much still today, operated in both registers.
The law and political economy (LPE) critique of law and economics offers a clarion call reminding us that methods are never just methods. They are vantage points on power that affect what we see and what we overlook. The LPE critique insists that economics is not a neutral science and that the law and economics approach to understanding society is neither apolitical nor inevitable. It is a compelling critique because, at root, it is correct. And therein lies the tragedy. This Essay argues that in stumbling upon this truth, the LPE movement has managed the remarkable feat of being simultaneously right and curiously unlettered. It has constructed an elaborate structure for critique without engaging with the discipline it claims to dismantle.
The flexibility to renegotiate can facilitate long-term contracting and thereby beneficial reliance investments and risk allocation. The prospect of modification can induce contracting parties who expect their bargaining power to improve to enter into contracts earlier and realize the advantages of longer-term relationships. Otherwise, those parties might decline to contract or delay until those opportunities realize, thereby foregoing the benefits of long-term risk allocation or reliance investments. The parties decide not only whether, but also when, to make legally binding commitments to each other. Courts should be more lenient in enforcing contract modifications that, prompted by a shift in bargaining power, may have only a redistributive effect. Parties can design under-compensatory damages that would provide a credible threat of breach ex post to facilitate ex post modification. Requiring good faith in modification (along with damages) can constrain possible holdup and protect reliance investments and risk allocation.
The negative moral emotions of guilt and shame impose real social costs but also create opportunities for policymakers to engender compliance with legal rules in a cost-effective manner. This Essay presents a unified model of guilt and shame that demonstrates how legal policymakers can harness negative moral emotions to increase social welfare. The prospect of guilt and shame can deter individuals from violating moral norms and legal rules, thereby substituting for the expense of state enforcement. But when legal rules and law enforcement fail to induce total compliance, guilt and shame experienced by noncompliers can increase the law’s social costs. The Essay identifies specific circumstances in which rescinding a legal rule will improve social welfare because eliminating the rule reduces the moral costs of noncompliance with the law’s command. It also identifies other instances in which moral costs strengthen the case for enacting legal rules and investing additional resources in enforcement because deterrence reduces the negative emotions experienced by noncompliers.
Search costs matter and are reflected in many areas of law. For example, most disclosure requirements economize on search costs. A homeowner who must disclose the presence of termites saves a potential buyer, and perhaps many such buyers, from spending money to search, or inspect, the property. Similarly, requirements to reveal expected miles per gallon, or risks posed by a drug, economize on search costs. But these examples point to simple strategies and costs that can be minimized or entirely avoided with some legal intervention. Law can do better and take account of more subtle things once sophisticated search strategies are understood. This Essay introduces such search strategies and their implications for law.
When one thinks of government, what comes to mind are familiar general-purpose entities like states, counties, cities, and townships. But more than half of the 90,000 governments in the United States are strikingly different: They are “special-purpose” governments that do one thing, such as supply water, fight fire, or pick up the trash. These entities remain understudied, and they present at least two puzzles. First, special-purpose governments are difficult to distinguish from entities that are typically regarded as business organizations—such as consumer cooperatives—and thus underscore the nebulous border between “public” and “private” enterprise. Where does that border lie? Second, special-purpose governments typically provide only one service, in sharp contrast to general-purpose governments. There is little in between the two poles—such as two-, three-, or four-purpose governments. Why? This Article answers those questions—and, in so doing, offers a new framework for thinking about special-purpose government.