In December, the Supreme Court is scheduled to hear an important case out of Mount Holly, New Jersey, that involves Fair Housing Act (FHA) claims in the context of an effort by Mount Holly Township to use eminent domain to redevelop its only predominately minority community – and in the process, displace and raze the homes of its residents. As such, the case raises an important test of whether conservatives hate eminent domain more than they detest civil rights statutes like the FHA that protect minority homeowners from unjustified disparate impact. The answer apparently is the latter.
As everyone knows, the property rights movement has led a crusade against eminent domain in the courts over the past decade, highlighted by the case of Kelo v. New London. While they lost Kelo, property rights groups such as the Institute for Justice and the Pacific Legal Foundation (PLF) have used public sentiment against the Kelo ruling to fuel ballot initiatives and legislation that have passed in whole or in part in 42 states. A critical talking point for leading groups in this crusade has been the impact that eminent domain can have on low-income and minority communities. This concern has activated some important groups on the Left. For example, the NAACP, the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, and other big names of the civil rights community filed briefs for the plaintiff in Kelo alongside the property rights groups.
It would seem, then, that something we could all agree on is that eminent domain should not be used as a tool for racial discrimination. That is precisely what is being alleged by the homeowners in the Mount Holly case, whose homes are slated to be demolished to make way for a planned community of significantly more expensive housing units with a tony-sounding name, “The Villages at Parker’s Mill.” They are seeking a court hearing on their claims under the FHA that the township is employing eminent domain in a way that unjustly disadvantages minority homeowners and residents.
For American communities of color, the latest revelations about U.S. government surveillance, at home and abroad, has been met without much surprise and with a long memory of the injustice suffered by minority groups since our nation’s inception.
“We are a settler-colonial nation,” explained Fahd Ahmed. “Race and social control are central to the project.” As the legal and policy director for Desis Rising Up and Moving, an organization dedicated to organizing and amplifying the voice of immigrant workers, Ahmed has seen first-hand how the government isolates and targets vulnerable populations. In particular, he noted the targeting of Muslims by the NYPD under the supposition of anti-terrorism efforts, but was careful to emphasize the broader scope of the present danger. “These practices won’t be limited to one community,” he said. “After all, surveillance has a purpose – to exert the power of the state and control the potential for dissent.”
Other panelists reached similar conclusions. Surveillance is “not anything new” for people of color, observed Adwoa Masozi, a communications specialist and media activist. Recalling the COINTELPRO programs of the 1960s and 1970s, she named the major difference between then and now: “The government is just more open about it.”
Alfredo Lopez, the founder of May First/People Link, called the recent news an indication that “the ruling class is figuring out how to rule a society that is rapidly changing beneath it.”
Seema Sadanandan of the American Civil Liberties Union’s National Capital Area Affiliate called the last few months a “tough time for white people,” whose relatively unchallenged faith in the Bill of Rights has been profoundly shaken.
Still, the next steps were harder to assess. For example, what role do lawyers and the law have in movements against this kind of surveillance? And how should activists interact, if at all, with the Internet and popular platforms like Facebook and Twitter?
The government shutdown has not resulted, so far, in the Supreme Court shuttering its doors and its 2013-2014 Term starts Oct. 7. The new Term might fairly be dubbed a stealth term, especially after two "blockbuster" ones that produced major rulings on health care reform, marriage equality, voting rights and affirmative action. But the new term, like many terms, carries the potential for significant change.
Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg recently tagged the Roberts Court as the most activist in terms of overturning acts of Congress. It's also a Court that has made it more difficult for many Americans to access the court system and produced win after win for business interests.
So let's look at a few of the cases that should be on everyone's radar. These cases should also remind us of the importance of judges who interpret the Constitution with a deep understanding of our challenges today and the ability to apply the Constitution's broad language and principles to them. For it makes little sense, as Erwin Chemerinsky notes in this ACSblog post, "to be governed in the 21st century by the intent of those in 1787 ...." For additional discussion of the forthcoming Term, see the annual preview hosted by the American Constitution Society for Law and Policy (ACS).
Today marks the 20th anniversary of a little-known but remarkably important document: Executive Order 12866, issued by President Bill Clinton in 1993. Executive Order 12866 replaced an order issued by President Ronald Reagan in 1981. Both of these documents set out a process whereby the White House – acting through the Office of Information and Regulatory Affairs (OIRA) within the Office of Management and Budget (OMB) – would review major agency rules before they were issued.
Executive Order 12866, and the Reagan order before it, ushered in a new era in administrative law, one in which the White House would become the dominant force in administrative rulemaking and in which cost-benefit analysis would become the overarching framework for evaluating the wisdom of rules. Professional career staff in the agencies, steeped in the technical fields relevant to the agencies’ work, would see their work product changed, sometimes dramatically, by professional career staff in OIRA. Political management at the agencies would find their actions scrutinized, revised, and sometimes stopped altogether by political operatives at the White House.
Even where statutes (as most do) charged a particular agency with making a particular technical finding and set forth a decision-making framework other than cost-benefit analysis, the White House process of regulatory review displaced those agency decision makers and supplanted the statutory standard with a cost-benefit test. The executive orders under both Reagan and Clinton qualified their reach by stating that they were to be applied “to the extent permitted by law,” but administrative law developments in the Supreme Court subsequent to the Reagan executive order – in particular, the famous Chevron decision – give tremendous leeway to agencies in interpreting the statutes they administer, and OIRA has taken upon itself to instruct agencies how to interpret these laws. Thus the constraint of following existing law is more illusory than real.
Erin Ryan’s analysis of potential constitutional challenges to environmental laws in the wake of the NFIB v. Sebelius decision makes a strong case that even under the Supreme Court’s new Spending Clause jurisprudence, these laws are constitutionally sound. (I came to a similar conclusion last year when I asked whether Sebelius casts constitutional doubt on Title IX.) Ryan’s analysis also makes clear, however, that the fundamental incoherence of the Supreme Court’s coercion analysis in Sebelius means that it is difficult to predict how it will be applied going forward. While the Court claimed to reason from contract law in finding the terms of the Medicaid expansion so coercive as to render a state’s implementation of the expansion involuntary, it is difficult to imagine the Court finding such a bargain coercive in other contexts. Consider, for example, another Medicaid case, Harris v. McRae.
In 1976, Cora McRae needed to terminate her pregnancy for medical reasons, but she had very little money. She had health insurance through Medicaid, but under a provision of federal law known as the Hyde Amendment initially passed in 1976, federal Medicaid funds cannot pay for abortions, including medically necessary abortions, though Medicaid covers other medically necessary expenses, including the costs of childbirth. McRae joined with other plaintiffs to challenge this law, arguing that by paying for childbirth expenses, but not for medically necessary abortion expenses, the government was unconstitutionally coercing her reproductive decisions and denying her constitutionally-protected right to end her pregnancy. In 1980, the Supreme Court rejected McRae’s challenge to Medicaid’s failure to fund medically necessary abortions. “Although Congress has opted to subsidize medically necessary services generally, but not certain medically necessary abortions,” the Court wrote, “the fact remains that the Hyde Amendment leaves an indigent woman with at least the same range of choice in deciding whether to obtain a medically necessary abortion as she would have had if Congress had chosen to subsidize no health care costs at all.”
In other words, refusing to provide Medicaid coverage for abortions did not represent unconstitutional coercion of a poor woman’s reproductive choices, according to the Court, because in the end it was her poverty that constrained her choices, rather than any barriers the federal government had placed in her way. That she was poor and might be forced to make certain choices because of her poverty—like going through with a potentially dangerous pregnancy because she could not afford an abortion--wasn’t the government’s fault, the Court held.