by Peter M. Shane, Professor of Constitutional and Administrative Law at The Ohio State University’s Moritz College of Law. The views in this essay are entirely his own.
Contrary to a recently published opinion piece entitled, “There is no principled reason to vote against Gorsuch,” many such reasons exist to oppose the nomination of Judge Neil A. Gorsuch to succeed the late Justice Antonin Scalia. This is especially so if you have principled objections to judicial methodologies that purport to constrain judges, but which, in the hands of conservatives, lead quite predictably, even if not quite inevitably to politically conservative outcomes.
But even for Senators who think taking a judge’s legal views into account is somehow inappropriate, a perfectly principled reason to oppose the Gorsuch nomination is to avoid rewarding Senate Republicans’ 2016 assault on constitutional governance and the Obama presidency. The issue is not just comeuppance for the “mistreatment of Judge Merrick Garland” as a matter of personal unfairness, although I agree “an exceptionally fine jurist was treated shabbily.” The issue is whether there remains any institutional penalty for sabotaging constitutional norms.
Republicans defending last year’s fiasco have offered a breathtaking exercise in revisionist history. Even now, they speak of a nonexistent presidential “tradition” of not nominating Justices in the last years of their respective terms. Yet the only reason why no president in the last eighty years nominated a Justice in the last year of his term is that, for the last eight decades, no Supreme Court vacancy arose during an election year. One might as well refer to a 228-year tradition of not nominating Justices to fill nonexistent seats!
by Peter M. Shane, the Jacob E. Davis and Jacob E. Davis II Chair in Law, Moritz College of Law, Ohio State University
Decades ago, the late constitutional scholar Charles Black offered an important functional justification for giving federal courts the power to say “no” to unconstitutional laws and executive actions: It is the judicial power to say “no” that gives the judicial power to say “yes” its legitimating force. Government benefits mightily when a judicial opinion upholding official action puts at rest, if not an underlying policy debate, then at least the public’s interest in prolonging a constitutional battle about whether the challenged action is at least lawful. Such seems to have been the result in 2011when the Supreme Court upheld the Affordable Care Act. A judicial imprimatur can have this beneficial impact, however, only if the public understands that courts make independent judgments.
For this reason, despite powerful legal arguments that U.S. District Court Judge Andrew Hanen should not have reached the merits of any issue regarding the Department of Homeland Security’s program of “Deferred Action for Parents of Americans and Lawful Permanent Residents” (DAPA), the country may be better off once a court does so. My difficulty with Judge Hanen’s massively overwritten 123-page opinion in Texas v. United States is not that Texas got past threshold procedural barriers to judicial review. It is that, in an ideologically driven opinion, Judge Hanen simply gets the law wrong.
As a formal matter, Judge Hanen grants Texas the preliminary injunction it seeks because he deems Texas likely to succeed in challenging the DAPA policy on a procedural basis, namely, publication of the policy without an opportunity for public comment under the Administrative Procedure Act. His conclusion on this point is wrong, as I discuss below, but perhaps foreordained by a more glaring error. Although Judge Hanen purports to rule only on procedural grounds, his opinion makes crystal clear that he thinks DAPA exceeds the DHS Secretary’s legal authority. His analysis is framed by an overarching narrative about how a supposedly feckless federal government is victimizing the helpless states by simultaneously hoarding to itself all authority over immigration and then abandoning a constitutional duty to protect the states from the burdens imposed by the presence in the U.S. of millions of undocumented immigrants. (If you want to see what judicial empathy for a plaintiff looks like, reading Judge Hanen’s 47-page analysis of Texas’s standing to sue would make a good start.)
Judge Hanen’s framing is doubly unfortunate. First, it ignores the ways in which the DAPA program would boost state economies and accompanying tax revenues. As 14 states and the District of Columbia have argued in an amicus brief supporting DAPA: “When immigrants are able to work legally—even for a limited time—their wages increase, they seek work compatible with their skill level, and they enhance their skills to obtain higher wages, all of which benefits State economies by increasing income and growing the tax base.” Moreover, Judge Hanen’s narrative of states as victims leads him to four outright mischaracterizations of DAPA.
To see these misconceptions starkly, it is helpful to consider that the measures DHS Secretary Jeh Johnson implemented through two memoranda on November 20, 2014 effectively accomplish three things. First, they establish national immigration enforcement priorities, instructing all immigration agencies within DHS as to the highest priorities for detention and removal, as well as the criteria for a new program of deferred action for parents of U.S. citizens and other legally permanent residents. With or without DAPA, DHS’s immigration components would be free to follow these priorities in their law enforcement activities.
by Peter M. Shane, the Jacob E. Davis and Jacob E. Davis II Chair in Law, Ohio State University, Moritz College of Law
Headlines often describe President Obama as “going it alone” on public policy in light of congressional inaction. But his boldest moves in favor of workers’ rights are rooted in an obscure statute enacted 65 years ago – the Federal Property and Administrative Services Act of 1949 (FPASA). That statute’s explicit purpose is to establish “an economical and efficient system for . . . [p]rocuring and supplying property and nonpersonal services” for the federal government.” Most important, it specifically empowers the President to “prescribe policies and directives that the President considers necessary to carry out” FPASA’s purposes.
In late July, President Obama issued two important orders resting directly on his FPASA authority. Executive Order 13672 adds to the prohibitions on employment discrimination by federal contractors a ban on discrimination based on “sexual orientation” or “gender identity.” Executive Order 13673 imposes a variety of measures to insure that federal contractors comply with state and federal labor laws. It further prohibits employers with federal contracts worth $1 million or more from insisting on the mandatory arbitration of worker complaints dealing with sexual assault or harassment or with claims arising under title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Last February, the President issued Executive Order 13658, imposing a higher minimum wage requirement on federal contractors, as well.
These orders have important precedents. President Kennedy relied on FPASA to prohibit race discrimination by federal contractors, a requirement amplified by President Johnson. President Nixon relied on FPASA to require federal contractors to engage in affirmative action to achieve equality in employment. President Carter used FPASA to impose a temporary system of wage and price controls on federal contractors. President Bush required federal contractors to inform employees of their right not to join a union. These orders have all been upheld in court.
In a 5-to-4 vote, the U.S. Supreme Court held that Article II’s Recess Appointments Clause empowers presidents to fill vacancies that occur at any time and during any recess—intra-session or intersession—of sufficient length. The Court did invalidate President Obama’s January, 2012, recess appointments of three NLRB members, but only on a narrow two-part rationale. First, a series of pro forma Senate sessions held between December 17, 2011, and January 23, 2012, were effective in dividing this 37-day break into periods of adjournment no longer than three days. Second, periods of intra-session adjournment shorter than 10 days are “presumptively” too short to count as recesses that trigger the president’s recess appointments power. (There is some ambiguity in the majority opinion whether the 10-day rule now applies even to intersession adjournments, which, as far as I know, no party ever argued.) Because of the pro forma sessions – which the D.C. Circuit had not addressed at all – the NLRB owes the Noel Canning Co. a do-over in its unfair labor practice proceeding.
All in all, it was a good day for the legacy of Chief Justice John Marshall. The majority eschewed implausible claims for the supposed clarity of plainly ambiguous constitutional text, in favor of a constitutional reading that was guided by a history of interbranch practice. Marshall would have approved the Court’s framing of the intra- versus inter-session recess problem:
The question is not: Did the Founders at the time think about intra-session recesses? Perhaps they did not. The question is: Did the Founders intend to restrict the scope of the Clause to the form of congressional recess then prevalent, or did they intend a broader scope permitting the Clause to apply, where appropriate, to somewhat changed circumstances? The Founders knew they were writing a document designed to apply to ever-changing circumstances over centuries. After all, a Constitution is “intended to endure for ages to come,” and must adapt itself to a future that can only be “seen dimly,” if at all …We therefore think the Framers likely did intend the Clause to apply to a new circumstance that so clearly falls within its essential purposes, where doing so is consistent with the Clause’s language.
In short, pragmatism trumped an overconfident textualism.
by Peter M. Shane, Jacob E. Davis and Jacob E. Davis II Chair in Law, Moritz College of Law, The Ohio State University
* Author's Note: I had the privilege on April 4 of delivering the following remarks as part of a panel on "Creating the Politics of Privacy," a session of the capstone conference for Ohio State's 2013-14 series of campus-wide programs on the distinction between public and private.
America's cultural turn in recent decades toward a glorification of the private and a denigration of the public has coexisted with what quite obviously is a deterioration in privacy. As individuals, we have dramatically less capacity than in earlier decades to control information about even the most personal aspects of our lives. This is not just historical coincidence. The cultural turn to the "private" has actually hurt privacy.
What I mean by a cultural turn is that, for the last 35-ish years, U.S. law and politics have moved away from the public-regarding orientation of the New Deal and its programmatic outgrowths and toward the individualist orientation of Reaganite small-government conservatism. We can see these moves in a variety of ways that implicate the private/public distinction. For example, we know that public institutions, such as schools, simultaneously create both public value and private value. They help both to benefit society through an educated citizenry and to prepare individuals for economic self-sufficiency. Yet our public policy toward schools has increasingly emphasized only their private value as providing persuasive reasons for their support.
Likewise, private action simultaneously has both private and public impacts. What I do as an individual both serves my personal needs and gratifications and imposes externalities on others. Not all externalities are positive. Yet courts and politicians have increasingly resisted treating negative externalities as a sufficient justification for regulation. Supreme Court decisions limiting Congress' powers to keep guns away from schools or to provide federal remedies for domestic violence are perfect examples. The court's 2012 decision that Congress lacked power under the Commerce Clause to compel the private purchase of health insurance was based on legal arguments that earlier courts would have rejected out of hand.