In recent years, many states passed constitutional amendments prohibiting modern day slavery in the form of forced prison labor allowed by the Thirteenth Amendment. However, the state amendments' text alone has not ended prison slavery in those states. This Article examines why. It grounds its discussion in the history of American slavery after the Civil War as well as the various attempts of legislation, litigation, and constitutional amendments to dismantle forced prison labor. Drawing on this discussion, it suggests how organizers might craft these amendments and how judges and lawyers should interpret them. It argues that, ultimately, amending constitutional text alone is not enough. To achieve their goals amendments must work in tandem with litigation, governmental structural reform, and the inevitable political battles that arise over the shape of the criminal legal system.
Constitutional Law
In 1977, a company convicted of conspiring with the mob asked President Carter for a pardon. The government speculated that the President could so exercise the pardon power, but ultimately no pardon ever issued. Nearly fifty years later, President Trump has pardoned a company convicted of violating the Bank Secrecy Act. People are again speculating that the pardon power covers companies, but few can offer evidence either way. History shows that the pardon power covers companies. Before the Founding, the King would often pardon corporations. Both the city of London and the Massachusetts Bay Company were pardoned before the Founders were even born. This tradition was the background against which the Pardon Clause and many of its state analogs were drafted. That the President can pardon companies might feel surprising or even unsettling. But the prerogative fits comfortably into the nation's separation of powers. Congress can make exercising the power less attractive by withholding refunded fines or shifting crimes to civil infractions. These checks come with more tradeoffs when exercised int he context of human beings, which might explain why Congress has not exercised them so far.
When prisoner officials burden the free exercise rights of prisoners, prisoners can seek recourse under 42 U.S.C. § 1983. However, due to the specialized and restrictive nature of prisons, courts adjudicate these claims under a reasonableness test set out in the case Turner v. Sadfley instead of a strict scrutiny standard. While circuits agree on using the Turner test for prisoner free exercise claims, there is a deep circuit split on the proper threshold test for these types of claims. While some circuits hold that inmates need to show that their religious practice was substantially burdened, other circuits hold that inmates just need to show that their religious practice was sincere. These threshold tests produce significant differences in how prisoner free exercise claims are litigated in court. After exploring the relevant Supreme Court guidance, this Comment aims to settle the split by examining each threshold test on its respective merits, considering neutral criteria such as screening ability, adherence to judicial capacity, and workability.
The constitutional text seems to be missing a host of governmental powers that we take for granted. The Supreme Court has suggested the United States automatically acquired powers “equal to the right and power of the other members of the international family”—powers that inhered in the government “as necessary concomitants of nationality.” Although the Curtiss-Wright decision has been heavily criticized, this Article shows that the “concomitants of nationality” idea reflects an important and longstanding feature of U.S. constitutional law: a presumption that the nation acquired the full complement of sovereign powers allocated to nations under international law.
The Free Exercise Clause is a broadly worded constitutional prohibition against government intrusion on religious exercise. To construct limits, courts have consistently required government officials to demonstrate the necessity of state action burdening religion. Yet government officials regularly fail to produce evidence of necessity, leaving judges to intuit or assume whether necessity exists. In this Comment, Brady Earley offers a better way. Using a method known as difference-in-differences (DiD), lawmakers can draw upon the experience of existing state laws to enact laws justified with evidence. The Comment demonstrates the value of DiD with a current free exercise controversy involving the Old Order Amish and their objection to Ohio’s flashing light requirement for buggies. Applying DiD to this conflict reveals that Ohio’s buggy light law led to an estimated 23% reduction in buggy-related crashes compared to Michigan and Kentucky—states with less restrictive buggy requirements. Beyond this case study, the Comment also discusses how DiD can help address recent Supreme Court conflicts over tax exemptions for religious organizations, LGBTQ-themed books in schools, and religious charter schools. These examples grapple with the problems and the showcase the possibilities of a data-driven method to address necessity in free exercise.
In Stop the Beach Renourishment v. Florida Department of Environmental Protection, a plurality of the Supreme Court held that the Takings Clause applies to the judiciary as it does to any government actor. In the more than fifteen years since, none of the sixty courts to consider judicial takings claims have found a judicial taking. In this Comment, Coby Goldberg provides the only comprehensive analysis of the judicial takings caselaw since Stop the Beach, in order to determine why no court has found a judicial taking. Based on this analysis of the caselaw, this Comment suggests that finding a judicial taking is all but impossible. That conclusion does not mean that judicial takings doctrine has had no influence on property jurisprudence in the years since Stop the Beach, however. This Comment identifies three cases in which state courts have used the possibility of judicial takings as reasons not to make decisions that undercut property rights. In those cases, judicial takings doctrine is functioning as something akin to a canon of constitutional avoidance. If decided the other way, none of those three decisions would have avoided actions that would have amounted to judicial takings. This Comment thus concludes that judicial takings doctrine leads to worse outcomes in property law, and so, out of a concern for constitutional problems that never arise, courts reject decisions they would otherwise adopt.
The common law is, among other things, a mode of legal development. In this mode, judges develop the law yet simultaneously act as if they were only discovering law that already existed. This sketch of the common law introduces contemporary readers to a way of thinking and talking about law that was once instinctive for judges. The common law as a mode of development may seem alien at certain points, yet its influence on the legal systems of the United States has been enormous, and it is critical background for understanding the grant of “the judicial power” in the U.S. Constitution.
Welcome to the Supreme Court’s emergency docket. Like the Twilight Zone, the emergency docket is “the middle ground between light and shadow,” and hence is the core of the so-called “shadow docket.” Commentators have criticized the Court’s shadow-docket interventions: Summary orders shirk the Court’s responsibility to resolve important legal issues in reasoned opinions informed by complete briefing and oral argument, are unwise because they risk premature decisionmaking before issues percolate in the lower courts, provide insufficient or confusing direction for lower courts, and undermine the Court’s legitimacy because of their “shadowy” deliberation. My big problem is that shadow-docket stays deeply (not just technically) undermine the rule of law and violently affect the lives of people like O.C.G. without sufficient legal justification.
Professor Stephanie Hall Barclay proposes and defends a new theoretical model of constitutional rights. While virtually all the prevailing theories about constitutional rights envision, at some level, judges balancing the importance of various individual rights against the importance of other societal goods in tension with those rights and generally hold out the judiciary as the primary guardian of these rights, this Article explains why the existing accounts of constitutional rights are either incoherent or incomplete. It proposes and defends an alternative model that is more consistent with democratic principles and the institutional competencies of the various branches of government.
The Constitution’s Double Jeopardy Clause allows successive criminal prosecutions for the same conduct so long as they are pursued by separate sovereigns (such as two different states). This Case Note examines Illinois law to argue that state statutes are a useful, though imperfect, means of addressing the dual sovereignty doctrine. It argues further that the details of statutory language are highly consequential to whether states can scale back dual sovereignty in practice.