Gabriel J. Chin

  • January 20, 2016
    Guest Post

    by Gabriel J. Chin, Martin Luther King Jr. Professor of Law, UC Davis School of Law

    The Supreme Court granted certiorari this week in United States v. Texas; the case will undoubtedly be one of the term’s most interesting, important, or both. In a 2-1 decision, the Fifth Circuit invalidated the Obama Administration’s DAPA program making “deferred action” available to as many as four million unauthorized migrants who are parents of U.S. citizens or green card holders. Deferred action represents a formal decision by the government to exercise prosecutorial discretion not to initiate deportation proceedings; it creates neither a right to remain nor a path to permanent status. However, by regulation, the government may grant work authorization to holders of deferred action.

    The Court will review several critical questions.

    The merits issues are whether the administration had the power to establish the program, and if it did, whether it should have gone through formal notice and comment under the Administrative Procedure Act. As Congress does not appropriate enough money to completely enforce the immigration laws (or any other laws, for that matter) there is no question that prosecutorial discretion, for better or for worse, is inevitable. There is also little doubt that even in the government, bosses are allowed to give direction to subordinates about how programs are to be carried out.

    The line between permissible “guidance” and formal, binding enforcement rules requiring notice and comment is debated by the parties. But given that the program does not purport to give noncitizens enforceable rights to relief and allows for case by case, discretionary evaluation of applications in the field, there is a strong reason to believe that the program constitutes permissible enforcement guidance. Certainly it is hard to dispute the idea that, in principle, discretion should be exercised consistently, transparently, and based on reasons rather than at the whims of individual officers in the field. I consider it unlikely that a majority of the Court will rule that general, non-binding guidance of this sort is impermissible.

  • December 4, 2015
    Guest Post

    by Gabriel J. Chin, Martin Luther King Jr. Professor of Law, University of California, Davis School of Law and co-editor of The Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965: Legislating a New America (Cambridge University Press, 2015).

    November 20, 2015 marked the anniversary of President Obama’s announcement of the Deferred Action for Parents of Americans (DAPA) program, designed to grant temporary status and work authorization to unauthorized migrant parents of children who were U.S. citizens or lawful permanent residents (LPRs). Texas and other opponents obtained an injunction against implementation of DAPA; the injunction was recently upheld by a divided panel of the Fifth Circuit. Texas asked the Supreme Court for a 30 day extension to respond to the Justice Department’s certiorari petition, which likely would have pushed any decision into the Court’s next term; this week, the Court gave them eight, making a decision possible before June 2016.

    The Court was right to move the case along, because delay is a signature problem in this area. Indeed, avoiding delay in the face of congressional inaction is a primary justification for the president’s unilateral immigration actions, which includes DACA, Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, which started in 2012. Few Americans believe that Congress either has the desire or the willingness to mandate and fund the removal of the current population of unauthorized migrants. To the contrary, in 2006 and 2013, the Senate passed bills providing opportunities for many undocumented people to regularize their status—someday, probably, it will happen. 

  • September 17, 2014
    Guest Post

    by Gabriel J. Chin, Professor of Law, UC Davis School of Law. This post is part of our 2014 Constitution Day symposium.

    Americans know their history and want to change it. No ancient injustice is ever settled; Lenny Bruce and the Scottsboro Boys were pardoned long after their deaths.  There is a constant flow of high school and college diplomas awarded to elderly people who were denied them decades ago for illegitimate reasons, including University of California students of Japanese ancestry who were unable to finish because they were interned in World War II, high school students expelled for participating in civil rights marches,  excluded because of their race, or who could not graduate because the schools were shut down entirely rather than allow racial integration. My students and I are petitioning the California Supreme Court to posthumously admit Hong Yen Chang to the bar, over a century after they excluded him because of his race.  The examples go on and on.

    In this context, the popularity of the Constitution is remarkable. It is studded with oppressive, offensive measures. One would think that those who, say, protest the disgraceful name of the pro football team in Washington, would insist, independently of the substantive meaning of the Constitution, that the document be revised and restated to eliminate the parts protecting slavery or which are otherwise inconsistent with widely shared contemporary views of justice.

    Part of the reason the Constitution stays the same is because it is hard to amend. But there is more than that.  Women and men, people of all races, and others who were once outside the Constitution but are now part of it can live with it because they feel the meaning of the words can change over time.

    For example, people who support non-discrimination might nevertheless regard the Fourteenth Amendment as something of an embarrassment; in Section 2, it seems to grant constitutional approval of the denial of the vote to female citizens. Similarly, the Fugitive Slave Clause is still in force (and of course the Thirteenth Amendment permits slavery for those convicted of crime).

    Ultimately, arguably the most offensive part of the Constitution is one of the most popular, the preamble. The Constitution, it said, was ordained and established by “we the people of the United States” for “ourselves and our posterity.” The republic was white and male, by text, tradition, and canonical statutes (such as the Naturalization Act of 1790, passed by the first Congress and signed by George Washington, which limited the privilege of naturalization to “free white persons”). When the words were written, they unmistakably excluded African Americans, Asians, Native Americans and women, and they were intended to have that effect, evidently, for so long as the Framers’ posterity trod the earth. 

  • July 18, 2014
    Guest Post

    by Gabriel J. Chin, Professor of Law, UC Davis School of Law

    *Noting the 50th anniversaries of Freedom Summer and the Civil Rights Act of 1964, ACSblog is hosting a symposium including posts and interviews from some of the nation’s leading scholars and civil rights activists.

    Practicing the art of the possible rather than seeking perfection may be an inevitable feature of civil rights legislation. Even the greatest and most honored laws have loopholes; the Thirteenth Amendment, for example, allows slavery based on conviction of crime, any crime, and the exception was liberally exploited in the former Confederacy after Redemption. The Fifteenth Amendment seems to countenance discrimination on the basis of sex, and a protection in earlier versions of the right to hold office was stripped out before enactment.        

    Nevertheless, I’ll take them; I do not criticize the Reconstruction Amendments or their makers for being merely as good as was possible at the time. Similarly, it would not have been better to give up what was good in the 1964 Act simply because of its deficiencies. At the same time, recognizing a law’s compromises and gaps is essential to understanding its real import, and to thinking about how policy can be shaped to fully reflect the principle at stake.

    Among the important compromises in the bill are exemptions from the employment discrimination prohibition of Title VII for businesses of less than 15 people, and the exemption from the Public Accommodations provision of Title II for small, owner-occupied motels and lodging establishments. Presumably, these exceptions exist for the benefit of racists who grew up in a racist system through no fault of their own. Congress might reasonably have concluded that forcing close contact between racial minorities and these racists might have been more trouble than it was worth.  But these exemptions should have been time-limited; at this point, all but the oldest business owners spent their entire lives, or at least their adulthoods, in a nation were discrimination has clearly been against the law and public policy. The case for continued compromise of the policy is not obvious.

    Another major gap in the Civil Rights Act is the lack of protection against discrimination of members of the LGBTQ community. Clearly, this was no oversight. The desegregation struggle was to some degree a Cold War propaganda effort. Fair treatment on the basis of race was a “cold war imperative,” and so too was controlling the potentially subversive effects of sexual minorities. Thus, the 1965 Immigration Act, a close cousin of the Civil Rights Act, eliminated discrimination on the basis of race in immigration law, but simultaneously clarified and strengthened a prohibition on gay and lesbian immigration. The Civil Rights Act makes little sense unless it recognizes a fundamental human dignity and equality. The Americans with Disabilities Act and the Age Discrimination in Employment Act closed unjustified gaps in the coverage of the original law, and the prohibition on gay immigration is gone. Continuing to allow discrimination against gays and lesbians in the Civil Rights Act is indefensible.

  • April 24, 2014
    Guest Post

    by Gabriel J. Chin, Professor of Law, University of California Davis School of Law

    Schuette v. Coalition to Defend Affirmative Action (BAMN), decided this week, did not deal another blow to affirmative action, exactly, but it upheld an earlier attack. The justices, 6-2 with Justice Kagan recused, approved a Michigan law prohibiting voluntary affirmative action in higher education.  The eight participating justices issued five separate opinions. 

    In 2006, the voters of Michigan responded to the Court’s 2003 decision in Grutter v. Bollinger, allowing affirmative action to promote educational diversity by passing an initiative banning it.  The Coalition to Defend Affirmative Action, Integration and Immigration Rights and Fight for Equality By Any Means Necessary persuaded a panel of the Sixth Circuit, and then a majority of the court en banc, that Michigan’s ban was unconstitutional. The Sixth Circuit was on firm ground; Washington v. Seattle School District Number 1, a 1982 decision, invalidated an initiative banning voluntary bussing to achieve racial integration.  The laws at issue were, seemingly, indistinguishable: Both involved initiatives meant to squelch voluntary measures to achieve racial integration, in situations where remedies where not legally required. The Seattle case built upon earlier decisions invalidating anti-civil rights initiatives.

    I read Justice Kennedy, whose plurality opinion was joined by the Chief Justice and Justice Alito, as distinguishing Seattle School District Number 1 on a subtle point: the identity of the beneficiaries. Voluntary bussing to achieve integration has often been defended because it benefits the racial minorities or other disadvantaged pupils who are bussed. Prohibiting voluntary bussing harms minorities, and thus might be a subject of equal protection concern. The trick, though, is that since Bakke, in 1978, diversity has been the compelling interest justifying voluntary affirmative action in higher education. African-American students are not admitted under Bakke or Grutter primarily for their own benefit, but instead, for the benefit of other students – thus Richard Delgado’s famous observation that affirmative action is a “majoritarian device” for the benefit of whites. Since affirmative action in higher education cannot be primarily for the benefit of minorities, its elimination is also not necessarily to their disadvantage.  Thus, unlike this case, Justice Kennedy explained, the older cases in which the court invalidated initiatives “were ones in which the political restriction in question was designed to be used, or was likely to be used, to encourage infliction of injury by reason of race.”