Faculty Bibliography

The book brings together the most respected scholars working in the field, and presents a genuine contribution to comparative constitutional studies, comparative public law, political science and constitutional history.

This essay, to appear in a chapter in Judicial Review: Process, Power and Problems, edited by Shruti Bedi and Lokendra Malik, a festschrift for Upendra Baxi, argues that the pursuit of judicially enforced social welfare and equality rights in the modern world is bound to fail but must be pursued. The contemporary picture of judicial enforcement of social welfare rights in one in which there is a consensus that such enforcement is possible, general agreement that enforcement should be dialogic rather than coercive, and a sense that enforcement is rather less effective than is desirable. As to the last, the essay argues that the predicate for generating resources to finance the provision of social welfare rights – investment from abroad – generates economic and legal limitations that inhibit the government from accumulating those resources. The essay develops a parallel argument about judicial enforcement of substantive equality rights, referring specifically to problems associated with the horizontal effect/state action doctrine. The conclusion here is that courts have the capacity to move outcomes in the direction of substantive equality, and might not face overwhelming constraints from the domestic political system, but their ability to achieve true substantive equality is limited by economics, both domestic and international. Yet, where constitutions are committed to substantive equality and social and economic rights, the lesson of the twentieth century is that judges will – and should – attempt to enforce those commitments. Enforcing the constitution – the entire constitution – is what democratic-minded citizens have come to expect of their courts. What is needed is a realistic understanding of what courts can accomplish – less than one might hope (the noble dream), but more than nothing (the nightmare). The attempt more than the achievement is what matters. The task then might be to develop a judicial rhetoric associated with the enforcement of these rights that effectively communicates why what the courts are doing is worth doing, why what they are doing is not enough, and why it is as much as the courts can do.

The Supreme Court has never simply evaluated laws and arguments in light of permanent and immutable constitutional meanings, and social, moral, and yes, political ideas have always played into Supreme Court justices’ impressions of how they think a case should be decided. Mark Tushnet traces the ways constitutional thought has evolved from the liberalism of the New Deal and Great Society to the Reagan conservatism that has been dominant since the 1980s. Looking at the current crossroads in the constitutional order, Tushnet explores the possibilities of either a Trumpian entrenchment of the most extreme ideas of the Reagan philosophy, or a dramatic and destabilizing move to the left. Wary of either outcome, he offers a passionate and informed argument for replacing judicial supremacy with popular constitutionalism-a move that would restore the other branches of government’s role in deciding constitutional questions.

Krysztof Kieslowski’s classic “Decalogue: The Ten Commandments – Ten Short Films About Morality” invites viewers to reflect upon what morality is: Propositions about what worthy actions or decisions are? Unintelligible without support from a deity? The choices – all the choices – one makes while going through everyday life? One of Kieslowski’s characters suggests that motives explain but don’t justify actions, and that all we can do is understand why people act as they do. A character in another Kieslowski film concludes that judging others’ actions lacks humility. The ten films, originally made for Polish television in the late 1980s, present morality through complex narratives that deny us the choice of reducing morality to propositions. In the end, though, the films might better support the thought that narrative is morality. In the course of leading up to this conclusion, this Article examines Kieslowski’s presentation of female characters and the intimations the films contain about his views about religion and its relation to the idea of narrative as morality.

Chapter 9 of the South African Constitution refers to ‘institutions protecting constitutional democracy’ (IPDs). Contemporary constitution designers have written into new constitutions numerous such institutions, and scholars have begun to identify them as a fourth branch of government alongside the traditional legislative, executive, and judicial branches. This article explores some of the conceptual issues associated with the new fourth branch: what justifies the creation of these IPDs (the short answer: a particular type of conflict of interest); what are their generic characteristics (the short answer: they are reasonably permanent institutions rather than ad hoc or statutory ones, unlike their antecedents); what is their relation to a constitutional court – another twentieth-century innovation; and why should they be understood to be a ‘branch’ of government rather than a congeries of useful innovations (the short answer: like the traditional branches, they perform distinctive function not readily performed by institutions located within those branches)?

At least since the late eighteenth century, constitutions have been understood as emanations of the will of “the People,” as the ultimate expression of an inherent popular sovereignty. In the form of theories of constituent power, accounts of constitutional foundations blended notional or conceptual “descriptions” of the People, which anchored the political legitimacy of constitutional orders in the idea of hypothetical consent, with empirical claims that the nation’s actual people were represented in constitution-making processes through elected delegates and thereby were the authors of and gave consent to its fundamental law. As part of the third wave of democratization, there was an important shift in what popular participation consisted of—from indirect participation by elected representatives to direct, popular participation in the constitution-making process. As a matter of constitutional process, this led to the growing practice, and expectation, that major constitutional changes should be ratified through referenda.

In the late twentieth century constitution-designers came to understand that, in addition to the three classic Montesquiean functions of law-making, law-applying, and law-interpreting, constitutional institutions had to perform an additional function, that of protecting the constitution itself. That function is performed by constitutional courts, but also by agencies concerned with elections and with corruption. A case study of an important anti-corruption inquiry in South Africa illustrates the proposition that institutions protecting the constitution must combine independence from other political actors with some degree of accountability to them. Following the case study, the Article examines some general characteristics of these institutions, sketching some of the questions about independence and accountability that constitution-designers must consider. Among those questions are the possibility of too much independence, with the institutions having a greater impact on political outcomes than is appropriate, too much responsiveness to non-political but professional concerns such as legality and the details of accounting conventions, and of course too much accountability to the very political institutions that these agencies are designed to regulate. Throughout the Article emphasizes the role of conflicts of interest both in setting the agenda for these agencies and in posing the risk that the agencies will undermine rather than protect the constitution.

In Gundy Justice Gorsuch offered two characterizations of the facts in the Schechter case: (1) “Kosher butchers such as the Schechters had a hard time following [the rules that required ‘straight-killing’ of chickens].” (2) “Yet the government apparently singled out the Schechters as a test case; inspectors repeatedly visited them and, at times, apparently behaved abusively toward their customers.” Justice Gorsuch relied upon Amity Shlaes’s book The Forgotten Man to support these assertions. In a blog post I criticized Shlaes’s account, and used Justice Gorsuch’s reliance upon it to illustrate what I called epistemic closure in the construction of the law – by which I meant the reliance upon a closed set of sources written by authors who generally shared a specific outlook on the way the world works. Josh Blackman and Shlaes responded to my criticism. But, as I show here, their responses are largely mistaken and (or perhaps because) undertheorized because of their failure (or perhaps inability – an inability that may be intrinsic to the process) to recognize the existence of epistemic closure.

About two decades ago Stephen Gardbaum and I noticed something seemingly new in constitutional design: the emergence of a “New Commonwealth Model” of constitutional review or “weak-form” judicial review.1 Our starting point was constitutional review under the Canadian Charter of Rights and, in particular, its theorization by Peter Hogg and Alison Bushell Thornton as creating opportunities for dialogue between legislatures and constitutional courts.

This conversation, conducted over three evenings, captures some of our thoughts about the last half century of legal education as both of us near retirement. We have edited the conversations so as to eliminate verbal stumbles and present our ideas more coherently, slightly reorganized a small part of the conversation, and added a few explanatory footnotes. However, we have attempted to keep the informal tone of our discussions.

Contemporary discussions of populism elide important distinctions between the ways in which populist leaders and movements respond to the failures of elites to follow through on the promises associated with international social welfare constitutionalism. After laying out the political economy of populisms’ origins, this Article describes the relation between populisms and varieties of liberalism, and specifically the relation between populisms and judicial independence understood as a “veto point” occupied by the elites that populists challenge. It then distinguishes left-wing populisms’ acceptance of the social welfare commitments of late twentieth century liberalism and its rejection of some settled constitutional arrangements that, in populists’ views, obstruct the accomplishment of those commitments. It concludes with a description of the core ethnonationalism of right-wing populism, which sometimes contingently appears in left-wing populisms but is not one the latter’s core components.

This article examines the evolution of the field of comparative constitutional law and its relationship to politics and international rights; constitutionalism; constitutional foundings and transformations; constitutional structures; structures of judicial review; generic constitutional law; and national identity. Innumerable comparative studies address the ways in which different constitutions and constitutional systems deal with specific topics, such as privacy, free expression, and gender equality. However valuable such studies have been in bringing information about other constitutional systems to the attention of scholars versed in their own systems, their analytic payoff is sometimes questionable. Scholarship in comparative constitutional law is perhaps too often insufficiently sensitive to national differences that generate differences in domestic constitutional law. Or, put another way, that scholarship may too often rest on an implicit but insufficiently defended preference for the universalist approach to comparative legal study over the particularist one.

An international consensus on the content of domestic constitutional law has structural ‘rights’-related components. The former requires roughly democratic systems for choosing representatives/executives. The consensus favours some forms of judicialised constitutional review, though the precise form is open to choice. The rights component includes a standard list of ‘core’ civil rights, including in this category equality along a number of dimensions – though not class or income. The rights-component is fundamentally neo-liberal. This is clearest in connection with ‘second generation’ social and economic rights, which – the consensus holds – can be recognised in a constitution but should not be vigorously enforceable (in systems where there is judicial enforcement of constitutional rights). The rights of free expression and political association must be specified in ways that allow political challenges to be mounted against efforts – including legislative programmes of political parties that control governments – to resist the neo-liberal policy agenda. Departures from this consensus are described as departures, not from ‘neo-liberal’ or even ‘liberal’ constitutionalism, but as departures from constitutionalism as such. We could ‘thin down’ the idea of constitutionalism quite a bit without abandoning constitutionalism’s core commitment to avoiding arbitrary government action.

Classical constitutional theory identified three functions of government—law-making, law enforcement, and adjudication of legal disputes—and assigned them to three distinct branches of government. As this tripartite framework began to break down over the course of the twentieth century, constitutional theorists identified a fourth function—the protection of the constitution itself. The corruption of high-level public officials can undermine democracy, in large part by generating public cynicism about the possibility that government can act for the general good. In principle, a structurally independent institution suggests itself as the solution, such as electoral commissions and anti-corruption institutions. This paper presents two case studies of institutions supporting democracy in South Africa and Brazil. It suggests that those who design these institutions, and those who staff them, should be sensitive to the complicated interactions between independence, necessary to ensure that high-level corruption comes under scrutiny, and accountability, necessary to ensure that anti-corruption investigations are well-integrated into the nation's system of government as a whole.

In the late twentieth century constitution-designers came to understand that, in addition to the three classic Montesquiean functions of law-making, law-applying, and law-interpreting, constitutional institutions had to perform an additional function, that of protecting the constitution itself. That function is performed by constitutional courts, but also by agencies concerned with elections and with corruption. A case study of an important anti-corruption inquiry in South Africa illustrates the proposition that institutions protecting the constitution must combine independence from other political actors with some degree of accountability to them. Following the case study, the Article examines some general characteristics of these institutions, sketching some of the questions about independence and accountability that constitution-designers must consider. Among those questions are the possibility of too much independence, with the institutions having a greater impact on political outcomes than is appropriate, too much responsiveness to non-political but professional concerns such as legality and the details of accounting conventions, and of course too much accountability to the very political institutions that these agencies are designed to regulate. Throughout the Article emphasizes the role of conflicts of interest both in setting the agenda for these agencies and in posing the risk that the agencies will undermine rather than protect the constitution.

The Advanced Introduction to Freedom of Expression provides an overview of major issues in the doctrinal structure of a law of freedom of expression, relevant to discussions of freedom of expression under many national constitutions. Assuming familiarity with basic theories of free expression, this book addresses the implications of reasonable disagreement between legislatures and courts about whether a specific measure violates freedom of expression, the implications of the fundamental proposition that speech can cause harm, the distinction between the coverage of freedom of expression and the protections it affords, and the appropriate doctrinal forms when speech is said to conflict with other rights such as equality, or merely other social interests. The book will be of interest to anyone, including students, teachers, researchers and policymakers wanting to learn more about the freedom of expression and the law.

Is the world facing a serious threat to the protection of constitutional democracy? There is a genuine debate about the meaning of the various political events that have, for many scholars and observers, generated a feeling of deep foreboding about our collective futures all over the world. Do these events represent simply the normal ebb and flow of political possibilities, or do they instead portend a more permanent move away from constitutional democracy that had been thought triumphant after the demise of the Soviet Union in 1989? Constitutional Democracy in Crisis? addresses these questions head-on: Are the forces weakening constitutional democracy around the world general or nation-specific? Why have some major democracies seemingly not experienced these problems? How can we as scholars and citizens think clearly about the ideas of "constitutional crisis" or "constitutional degeneration"? What are the impacts of forces such as globalization, immigration, income inequality, populism, nationalism, religious sectarianism? Bringing together leading scholars to engage critically with the crises facing constitutional democracies in the 21st century, these essays diagnose the causes of the present afflictions in regimes, regions, and across the globe, believing at this stage that diagnosis is of central importance - as Abraham Lincoln said in his "House Divided" speech, "If we could first know where we are, and whither we are tending, we could then better judge what to do, and how to do it."

A convention is a practice not memorialized in a formal rule but regularly engaged in out of a sense of obligation, where the sense of obligation arises from the view that adhering to the practice serves valuable goals of institutional organization and the public good. Constitutional conventions are important in making it possible for the national government to achieve the goals set out in the Preamble. Over the past twenty years or so, however, such conventions have eroded. This article addresses the role and importance of constitutional conventions in the United States, arguing that conventions' erosion has been accompanied by a configuration of partisan politics that makes it difficult to present a discussion of that erosion in a way that will not itself seem partisan. I argue that contention over claims about departures from conventions takes forms familiar from ordinary common-law reasoning--perhaps not surprising because common-law reasoning rests on judicial decisions that cannot offer canonical textual formulations of the rules the courts apply. This article also discusses some of the ways in which political actors can depart from conventions, and some consequences of such departures. Finally, the Essay takes up some larger questions about constitutional transformation through abandonment or revision of constitutional conventions.

The opening pages of Rousseau’s Social Contract have two striking phrases. The more celebrated is, “[m]an was born free, and everywhere he is in chains.” That, though, is preceded by this: “I want to inquire whether, taking men as they are and laws as they can be made to be, it is possible to establish some just and reliable rule of administration in civil affairs.” I take this second sentence as my guide: Taking the textual Constitution as it is and with the interpreted Constitution as it could be, can there be a constitutionalism that progressives could wholeheartedly endorse? I contrast utopian thinking to the thinking grounding the day-to-day work of progressive litigators and academics focused on achieving the best outcomes possible in the courts (and legislatures) as they are, not as they could be. To focus on the Supreme Court: In such work the hoped-for outcome is one favorable to our long-term goals. Ordinarily that means winning cases. With that goal in mind we unsurprisingly count votes and understand that to win a victory for progressivism (to-day) we have to develop arguments that have some chance of getting the vote of Justice Anthony Kennedy (or, or perhaps and, the vote of Chief Justice John Roberts). The Future of the U.S. Constitution: A Symposium. April 14-15, 2017, Bloomington, Indiana. Sponsored by Indiana University Maurer School of Law, Indiana Law Journal & the American Constitution Society for Law and Policy.

This brief essay, for a collection edited by Carolina Deik, “Crisis of the Rule of Law,” to be published in Colombia, describes some ways in which too much law can be as problematic as too little law. After noting that law’s complexity can introduce some of the arbitrariness that the rule of law seeks to overcome, the essay uses the example of anti-corruption law to suggest how enforcing the law at the retail level might weaken the overall system of the rule of law by eroding public confidence in public institutions, and, sometimes, by weakening those institutions themselves.

Brophy expands the literature about pro-slavery thought by analyzing the “ideas in circulation” at southern colleges and literary societies before turning to the pro-slavery thought of several well-known southern jurists. These popular ideas are more fugitive, less formal, but probably more widely available in the aggregate and thus more influential than systematic treatises. Brophy’s theme is that as the years passed, slavery’s defenders were increasingly attracted to a utilitarian defense of the institution as beneficial for masters and slaves alike. Important to the utilitarian defense was an emphasis on the importance of attending to the specific circumstances of society, in contrast to what Brophy’s subjects described as the sterile abstractions of Enlightenment thought. Much of the pro-slavery thought that Brophy describes will be familiar to specialists, but his work’s strength lies in bringing to historians’ attention a set of previously neglected materials. Brophy’s discussion of cases dealing with the legal limits to masters’ power to free their slaves supplements the attention typically given to Thomas Ruffin’s opinion in State v. Mann. Two of his chapters—one about Brown University’s president Francis Wayland and one about the travails of Frederick A. P. Bernard at the University of Mississippi—may be of greater interest to historians of education than to historians of pro-slavery thought. The discussion of Wayland brings to the surface concerns about how to evaluate past actions known today to be evil that are only implicit elsewhere the book. Brophy’s discussion of Thomas R. R. Cobb of Georgia, author of a major pro-slavery legal treatise, counterposes “cold legal reasoning” in slavery’s defense to the “passionate … sympathy” expressed in anti-slavery arguments (227). These “cold calculations of utility … derived from a perception of hierarchy … evidenced by nature” (231). That juxtaposition also appears in Brophy’s discussion of Ruffin, William Gaston of North Carolina, and Joseph Henry Lumpkin, the first justice of Georgia’s Supreme Court. Again, the formulation is familiar in previous work about the law of slavery, but Brophy valuably brings it to a new set of readers. Brophy notes in passing that slavery’s defenders sometimes also relied on sympathy, especially in their arguments that slave owners treated the human beings that they owned better than capitalist employers treated the human beings who worked for them. A more complete discussion of pro-slavery thought, even in its watered-down form in faculty lectures and literary addresses, might lead to some tempering of Brophy’s characterization of such arguments as utilitarian. His stress on the importance of taking local conditions into account is one area in which he might have deepened his analysis. Yet, even as it stands, Brophy’s book is a well-crafted introduction to pro-slavery thought as expressed in venues that historians have not visited often enough.

This chapter is primarily an exposition of the applicable constitutional doctrine on the enforcement of national law against subnational units in the US. It also offers some general observations about the underlying theory of federalism that generates US constitutional doctrine. In the US the question of the enforceability of national law against state governments is a matter of some theoretical interest but relatively little practical importance. The reasons for that situation are a combination of institutional and historical conditions, which the chapter refers to in more detail. For those outside the US, however, the primary message here is that the constitutional doctrine dealing with this sort of enforcement is quite limited in scope and importance, in contrast to its importance in systems whose constitutions create a less centralized version of constitutional federalism.

Boundaries: between public and private law – Political dimensions of private and public law – Boundaries between domestic law and transnational and international law – Boundaries between law and other disciplines, including economics, comparative politics, normative political theory, and hermeneutic disciplines – National styles of comparative law scholarship – Analytic and pragmatic traditions in comparative law scholarship.

Comprehensive and compelling, this book represents a sustained effort to account, constitutionally, for these modes of “speech.” While it is firmly centered in debates about First Amendment issues, it addresses them in a novel way, using subject matter that is uniquely well suited to the task, and whose constitutional salience has been under-explored. Drawing on existing legal doctrine, aesthetics, and analytical philosophy, three celebrated law scholars show us how and why speech beyond words should be fundamental to our understanding of the First Amendment.

The distinction between the First Amendment’s coverage – those human activities the regulation of which is evaluated by invoking the First Amendment – and the protection it affords – the conditions under which a regulation violates the First Amendment – has been an important component of the Amendment’s doctrinal architecture. Recent Supreme Court decisions place significant pressure on the coverage/protection distinction. This Essay examines those cases and the ways in which intuitively attractive results might be precluded by abandoning the distinction. Salvaging those results is possible, but only by deploying analytical moves that run athwart a constitutional “meta-doctrine,” which I call the “too much work” principle. In addition to contributing to understanding the coverage/protection distinction and the Court’s recent decisions, the Essay explains the role that meta-doctrines play in constitutional architecture more generally.

This brief Appreciation of the late Jan Deutsch sketches several "encounters" I had with Deutsch and his thought, and explains how that thought formed part of the underpinning of my thinking about law and, specifically, Critical Legal Studies.

The following three essays deal with diverse aspects of the doctrine of proportionality. The first argues that rationality review in U.S. constitutional law, which deals with challenges to legislation on the ground that the legislation violates a general right to liberty rather than any specific enumerated right, could be improved by expressly incorporating several features of proportionality doctrine. The second addresses the often made claim that proportionality analysis leads to “rights inflation,” and offers a doctrinal account and a politico-cultural account of that phenomenon. The third, to appear in a collection co-edited by Vicki C. Jackson and Mark Tushnet, tentatively titled New Frontiers in Proportionality Analysis (Cambridge University Press, 2017), argues that some cases treated as “easy’ under proportionality doctrine, are actually more difficult, and that recognizing their difficulty supports, to some degree, the adoption of the kind of categorical analysis that proportionality doctrine is thought to reject.