Print Archive

For decades, it has been black letter law that the informal exercise of government power can violate the First Amendment when it creates an “informal system of censorship.” Lower courts have been deeply divided about what kinds of government actions create this kind of informal system. The Court’s recent NRA v. Vullo decision holds that officials engage in informal censorship whenever they intentionally use informal power to evade First Amendment constraints on their formal powers. Vullo clarified that the rule against informal censorship is categorical: officials may never evade constitutional constraints by threatening harm or promising benefits to private parties, no matter how they attempt to do so. This Article argues that the Court's reaffirmation of the categorical nature of the First Amendment rule against informal censorship is very good and comes at a critical time. The Article examines the doctrine prior to the decision, the significance of Vullo’s intervention, and its implications.

The risk of deal breakage is central to merger and acquisition (M&A) dealmaking. Yet neither the finance nor corporate law literatures have systematically explored how and why deals fall apart. This Article rectifies this deficiency, making three principal contributions. First, it develops a comprehensive typology of eight M&A outcomes: completed-as-announced deals and seven types of deal breakage. Second, it unveils a novel dataset of 5,058 mergers and acquisitions involving U.S. public company targets signed between 1996 and 2020. Finally, it demonstrates how the Article's typology and data yield important implications for M&A practice and doctrine by casting new light on key debates over deal protection devices, the power of controlling shareholders, and “merger arbitrage” investors.

This Comment creates the first comprehensive taxonomy of state eminent domain regimes’ treatment of private-to-private takings for the purpose of preventing future blight. Following the Supreme Court’s expansion of the Public Use Clause, many states moved to limit takings justified solely by economic development, yet maintained broad blight statutes that continued to authorize the condemnation of property to eliminate or prevent blight. The Comment exposes the indeterminate contours of the future-blight takings landscape, urging legislatures and courts seeking to cabin sweeping public use determinations to find the prevention of future blight an invalid public use.

This Comment argues “reverse acquihires”—deals in which a Big Tech firm poaches an AI startup’s team and then paysits shell hundreds of millions—constitute asset acquisitions subject to Hart-Scott-Rodino (HSR) Act review. While regulators typically review only tangible asset acquisitions under the Act, this Comment argues that regulators can mandate review of certain intangible asset transfers as well. Drawing on regulatory treatment of intellectual property licensing agreements, language from divestiture orders, and guidance from foreign competition authorities, this Comment demonstrates that reverse acquihires are acquisitions of AI startups’ most valuable assets: their business information and know-how.

Multiple circuits have extended quasi-judicial immunity to sheriffs, marshals, and bailiffs when they execute judicial orders, including—in some circuits—when they use excessive force. This Comment argues that the extension of quasi-judicial immunity to enforcement officers is inconsistent with the Supreme Court’s absolute immunity doctrine. A survey of the Court’s absolute immunity cases reveals four considerations guiding those determinations. Enforcement officers do not meet any of those considerations. This Comment proposes a simple rule to correct for this doctrinal inconsistency: absolute immunity for deliberative functions and qualified immunity for enforcement functions.

Standard theories of precedent limit the legal effect of a precedent to cases within the scope of its holding. Yet the widespread use of analogies to precedent in legal reasoning presupposes that precedents have legal implications for cases outside the scope of their holdings. This Article suggests that arguments from analogy to precedent have the currency they do in our legal system because respect for a precedent requires more than treating the precedent’s holding as true: It also requires the judge to update her other beliefs around the assumption that the precedent’s holding is true.

This Article considers how and under what circumstances the “general law,” a species of unwritten law grounded in legal customs and practices shared across different legal jurisdictions, might be used in modern constitutional interpretation. Constitutional originalists have increasingly argued that central provisions of the Constitution incorporate various bodies of general law. This Article argues that, even if the Constitution did incorporate various bodies of general law, most of those bodies of law have now been emptied of content, and must remain empty without profound changes in the practice of federal judicial review. Because the general law requires that nonfederal judicial actors such as state courts, governors, legislatures, the President, and perhaps foreign legal systems participate in the development of public law norms and customs, a general law revival would involve eliminating, or at least curtailing, federal judicial supremacy and would therefore impliedly reject nearly a hundred years of public law precedent.

How many amendments are in the Constitution? Americans should be able to know. But whether the Equal Rights Amendment is—right now—part of the Constitution remains controversial. Thirty-eight states have sought to ratify it, several of them after the seven-year deadline in the proposing resolution. Given President Joe Biden’s last-minute claim that the ERA is now the Twenty-Eighth Amendment, in a future administration this lingering debate could provoke a minor constitutional crisis. Yet there may be a legal answer. Congress has long placed operative language in amendment resolutions that modifies the legal force of the proposed text—not only in the Bill of Rights, as is well-known, but also in the Twelfth and Seventeenth Amendments. This language was deliberately chosen, was repeated by state ratifications, and seems to have been accepted as legally effective. This historical practice suggests that, under Article V, the resolution is the amendment: What matters is the entire constitutional change that Congress proposes, not just the additional language it would append. This understanding means that certain parts of the 1788 Constitution have been repealed, not just superseded. It also means that the ERA’s deadline rendered it incapable, even with thirty-eight states’ assent, of making any change to the Constitution’s text once seven years had passed. Both President Biden’s statement and the ongoing lobbying efforts are therefore seriously misguided. In a divided society, losing consensus on the Constitution’s text carries an especially high cost: The National Archives is the wrong place to play with fire.

This Book Review examines the significance of Professor David E. Wilkins’s newest book Indigenous Governance: Clans, Constitutions, and Consent. It suggests that Wilkins has produced a critically important collection of primary sources related to the origins of tribal government and that his contribution could not come at a better time within the discipline of Indian Law. This Book Review takes the position that Indian Law is seeing the emergence of a fourth wave of scholarship that recenters the conversation from tribal self-determination as a means of decolonization to one embracing the autochthonous powers of tribes themselves. It is distinct from earlier waves of Indian Law scholarship because it does not position tribal powers within the tribal-federal framework but recognizes them as distinct and subject to change at the direction of tribal leadership. To enable this genesis, scholars need primary research material that collects and summarizes the nature of the tribal sovereign using tradition and custom, tribal law and tribal judicial authority, and the founding documents and stories that ultimately create an Indigenous polity. Indigenous Governance is that text.

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.

Is President Donald Trump appealing in part because he has made contracts seem like provisional arrangements likely to endure only insofar as they serve his (or putatively national) interests? Two political economy studies of U.S. workplaces and firms, one ethnographic and one historical, can begin to shed light. Ilana Gershon’s ethnography explores how people’s everyday legal and political consciousness is formed through their experiences of regulatory decision-making in a contract-filled workplace. Sociologist Melinda Cooper’s historical account reveals how a turn to viewing corporations as a conglomeration of individual contracts paved the way for a veneration of autocratic rule. In making this argument, this Essay contributes to the Symposium in two ways. First, it illustrates the value of an insight that has helped organize the field of law and political economy but not law and economics: namely, that people’s legal and political sensibilities are often shaped by their experiences in economic life. Second, it illustrates the value of interpretative social sciences, which has remained marginal in both fields. It argues that qualitative and ethnographic research methods are particularly useful in moments such as the political present in the United States when what can be assumed about political, legal, and class identities and categories is rapidly changing.

Do police help keep us safe? Do prisons make the world less violent? This Essay argues that effectively engaging with these and other notoriously difficult questions about our criminal legal system requires a diverse suite of methodologies. Too often, however, scholars have purported to answer these questions definitively by reference only to top-down, state-created, data categories and numbers: arrest rates, crime rates, formal adjudication outcomes. This Essay argues that opening up research methods to seek knowledge from grounded and communal sources can help unseat assumptions and guide researchers toward more nuanced and expansive understandings of the relationships between law, politics, economics, and our material world. The Law and Political Economy movement (LPE) has provided a natural intellectual home for those who turn to bottom-up sources of knowledge, precisely because of the attention given by LPE scholars to interplays of power, politics, and the law.