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Professor Douglas NeJaime’s Essay Parents in Fact commends the Restatement of Children and the Law’s embrace of the de facto parent doctrine. He is somewhat critical, however, of the Restatement’s reference to individuals seeking recognition as de facto parents as “third parties” and its reluctance to recognize de facto parents as legal parents. He is also skeptical of the Restatement’s requirement that an individual seeking recognition as a de facto parent first show that a legal parent consented to and fostered the individual’s creation of a parent-child relationship with the child. NeJaime’s observations provide an opportunity to clarify the scope and constraints of a restatement—which requires “clear formulations of common law” rules and must “reflect the law as it presently stands” but also provides space, albeit limited, for expression of “the relative desirability of competing rules.” NeJaime’s reflections also allow us to illustrate how silence—not taking a position—on issues that courts have yet to decide furthers the Restatement’s legitimacy while minimizing the risk that it will be “a roadblock to change” as the law evolves.

The Restatement’s focus on children in society encourages us to move beyond a merely descriptive project toward a new way of envisioning children’s place in law as full persons in the present. In our view, Part 4 does much more than identify the situations where the law does or should treat children like adult decision-makers. Instead, Part 4 illuminates the possibilities for a new law of the child that understands children as developing persons deeply connected to but also distinct from the adults in their lives. We focus on § 18.11––“Minors’ Right to Gain Access to Information and Other Expressive Content”––to illustrate how the subtle transformation in Part 4 of the Restatement points toward potentially pathbreaking changes for the law of children generally. This Essay draws upon our prior work in order to illuminate the major contributions––but also shortcomings––of Part 4 of the Restatement of Children and Law. In the first Part of this Essay, we examine the Restatement’s focus on children’s interests in accessing ideas and the Restatement’s endorsement of parental authority to control that access. We applaud the Restatement’s important discussion of the background and rationale for recognizing children’s right to access information and expressive materials. Yet we note that the Restatement undermines its own commitment to children’s free speech interests by expressly endorsing parents’ broad authority to limit children’s access to ideas. In the second Part, we explore what it would mean to respect children’s right to access ideas on their own, free from parental control. We focus on the example of social media because of its importance in children’s lives today and note that broad parental authority to limit this access, as set forth in the Restatement and in recent legislation in Utah and Arkansas, potentially harms children’s interests. The third Part proposes alternative black-letter law designed to better promote children’s interests in accessing ideas.

Multiple approaches to securing reproductive justice to protect the reproductive decision-making of youth could exist, but only exceptions for rape or incest have largely been articulated and pursued. No specific federal or state legislation—specifically focused on adolescents—has been proposed or enacted at the federal or state levels in the Dobbs’s aftermath. Nevertheless, novel legal strategies that center youth are long overdue substantively and symbolically and the models already exist to bring such efforts about—through referenda, federal legislation, state legislation, and executive orders. An emancipation proclamation for reproductive health is a vision that should be brought to life. As an initial matter, risks can and should be mitigated in all instances of rape and incest. Most immediately, legislatures can and should act by enacting laws that grant exceptions for pregnancies that result from rape and incest. However, there are important reasons for an expansive path and avoiding exceptionalism such as to nullify all abortion bans that deny adolescents’ reproductive decision-making, including in deciding to terminate a pregnancy when rape or incest have not occurred.

Professors Michelle Goodwin and Anne Dailey and President Laura Rosenbury have written two compelling essays on Part 4 of the Restatement of Children and the Law, dealing with Children in Society. Goodwin’s essay, She’s So Exceptional: Rape and Incest Exceptions Post-Dobbs, focuses on § 19.02 of the Restatement, dealing with the right of minors to reproductive health treatments. This Section was approved by the American Law Institute before the Supreme Court decided Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, overturning Roe v. Wade. In her essay, Goodwin explores the harms that will follow if minors’ right of access to abortion, contraception, treatment for sexually transmitted infections and other care is cut off. Dailey and Rosenbury engage with §§ 18.10 and 18.11, dealing with minors’ right of free expression in their essay, Beyond Home and School. Building on arguments against strong parental authority they have developed in earlier work, they challenge the Restatement’s position recognizing parents’ authority to limit their children’s access to speech, focusing particularly on social media. This Comment begins by briefly describing Part 4 of the Restatement, which includes diverse regulation dealing with the law’s direct relationship with children, not mediated (primarily) through the institutions most relevant to children’s experience—the family, the public school, and the justice system. It then reviews the two essays on Part 4, turning first to Goodwin’s essay and then to Dailey and Rosenbury’s essay. Finally, I suggest that the two essays, while they address very different legal issues, are in conversation with one another. Goodwin’s essay is a cautionary tale on the risk of giving the state (and particularly the political branches) greater authority to decide what is harmful to children, as Dailey and Rosenbury’s proposal would seem to do.

Legal cases often turn on judgments of textual clarity: when the text is unclear, judges allow extrinsic evidence in contract disputes, consult legislative history in statutory interpretation, and more. Despite this, almost no empirical work considers the nature or prevalence of legal clarity. Scholars and judges who study real-world documents to inform the interpretation of legal text primarily treat unclear text as a research problem to be solved with more data rather than a fundamental feature of language. This Article makes both theoretical and empirical contributions to the legal concept of textual clarity. It first advances a theory of clarity that distinguishes between information and determinacy. A judge might find text unclear because she personally lacks sufficient information to decide which interpretation is best; alternatively, she might find it unclear because the text itself is fundamentally indeterminate. Fundamental linguistic indeterminacy explains ongoing interpretive debates and limits the potential for text-focused methods (including corpus linguistics) to decide cases. With this theoretical background, the Article then proposes a new method to algorithmically evaluate textual clarity. Applying techniques from natural language processing and artificial intelligence that measure the semantic similarity between words, we can shed valuable new light on questions of legal interpretation. This Article finds that text is frequently indeterminate in real-world legal cases. Moreover, estimates of similarity vary substantially from corpus to corpus, even for large and reputable corpora. This suggests that word use is highly corpus-specific and that meaning can vary even between general-purpose corpora that theoretically capture ordinary meaning. These empirical findings have important implications for ongoing doctrinal debates, suggesting that text is less clear and objective than many textualists believe. Ultimately, the Article offers new insights both to theorists considering the role of legal text and to empiricists seeking to understand how text is used in the real world.

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.

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.

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.