Faculty Bibliography

This Foreword argues that the constitutional text favors an approach to both statutory and structural constitutional law that defers, within broad bounds, to congressional authority to determine how to implement constitutional power. In several important contexts, the Constitution grants implementation powers to Congress. These grants include the Necessary and Proper Clause, which provides that Congress shall have the power “[t]o make all Laws which shall be necessary and proper for carrying into Execution the foregoing Powers and all other Powers vested by this Constitution in the Government of the United States, or in any Department or Officer thereof.” The upshot of that explicit assignment is not hard to describe. Unless it violates some other provision of the Constitution, when Congress specifies a reasonable means of carrying out its own power or the powers of the coordinate branches, the other branches must respect that decision. This Foreword argues that the Rehnquist and Roberts Courts have given effect to this allocation of implementation power in statutory cases, but not in structural constitutional cases. The Court’s “new textualism” in statutory interpretation builds on a post-New Deal tradition that treated the Necessary and Proper Clause as a broad source of congressional authority to enact odd, and even silly, laws, as long as they satisfied a very minimal threshold of rationality. By enforcing the statutory text, warts and all, textualism enables Congress to use its words reliably to prescribe — and make stick — rough, awkward, and often ill-fitting solutions to complex and contested social problems. In contrast, the Court's “new structuralism” in constitutional law transforms the Necessary and Proper Clause into a delegation of power to the courts to define abstract structural policies. In a novel reading of the clause, both the Rehnquist and Roberts Courts have held that a law is not “proper” if it cannot satisfy the Court's own conception of freestanding principles of federalism and separation of powers. Contrary to the Constitution’s express allocation of implementation power, this approach gives the Court rather than Congress primary responsibility for determining what means are “necessary and proper.”

The Supreme Court applies the structural provisions of the Constitution by relying on an overarching framework of “separation of powers.” Its cases reflect two distinct visions of the doctrine. Functionalist decisions presuppose that Congress has plenary authority to compose the government under the Necessary and Proper Clause, subject only to the requirement that a particular governmental scheme maintain a proper overall balance of power. Formalist opinions, in contrast, assume that the constitutional structure adopts a norm of strict separation which may sharply limit presumptive congressional power to structure the government. This Article contends that, to the extent that these theories each rely on a freestanding separation of powers principle derived from the structure of the document as a whole, both contradict the idea that the Constitution is a “bundle of compromises” that interpreters must respect if they are to show fidelity to the constitution-making process. The historical record reveals that the founding generation had no single baseline against which to measure what “the separation of powers” would have required in the abstract. The U.S. Constitution, moreover, not only separates the powers of the three branches, but also blends them in order to provide mutual checks among the branches. In so doing, it strikes many different balances and expresses its purposes at many different levels of generality. When a provision carefully specifies which branch will exercise a given power and in what manner, interpreters must respect that specific compromise by prohibiting alternative means of exercising that power. Conversely, when the Constitution speaks indeterminately to a particular question, constitution-makers should not rely on abstract notions of separation of powers to displace Congress’s assigned power to compose the federal government. Rather than invoking any overarching separation of powers theory, interpreters should apply tools of ordinary textual interpretation to construe the particular clauses that make up the constitutional structure.

Recent scholarship has questioned whether there remains a meaningful distinction between modern textualism and purposivism. Purposivists traditionally argued that because Congress passes statutes to achieve some aim, federal judges should enforce the spirit rather than the letter of the law when the two conflict. Textualists, in contrast, have emphasized that federal judges have a constitutional duty to give effect to the duly enacted text (when clear), and not unenacted evidence of legislative purpose. They have further contended that asking how a reasonable person would understand the text is more objective than searching for a complex, multimember body’s purpose. Writing from a textualist perspective, Professor Manning suggests that the conventional grounds for textualism need refinement. Modern textualists acknowledge that statutory language has meaning only in context, and that judges must consider a range of extratextual evidence to ascertain textual meaning. Sophisticated purposivists, moreover, have posited their own “reasonable person” framework to make purposive interpretation more objective. Properly understood, textualism nonetheless remains distinctive because it gives priority to semantic context (evidence about the way a reasonable person uses words) rather than policy context (evidence about the way a reasonable person solves problems). Professor Manning contends that the textualist approach to context is justified because semantic detail alone enables legislators to set meaningful limits on agreed-upon compromises. In contrast, he argues that by authorizing judges to make statutory rules more coherent with their apparent overall purposes, purposivism makes it surpassingly difficult for legislators to define reliable boundary lines for the (often awkward) compromises struck in the legislative process.