The 9/11 War Authorization and Iran: An Important Lesson for Congress

Amid escalating tensions with Iran in June, President Trump told the press that he didn’t need authorization from Congress to go to war with Iran. His bold claim follows on the heels of successive statements by administration officials that the President could rely on the war authorization that Congress passed after 9/11 nearly 18 years later to start a new and unrelated conflict with Iran.

This situation has prompted a round of legal explainers detailing the domestic and international legal issues related to using force against Iran covering the scope of Article II to the restrictions imposed by the U.N. Charter. One of the key legal issues is whether the 2001 Authorization for Use of Military Force (AUMF), which authorized force against those responsible for 9/11, provides authority for using force against Iran nearly two decades later, as the administration keeps suggesting. In one legal explainer by former executive branch lawyers, the authors explain why the claim that the 2001 AUMF authorizes force against Iran is “thoroughly unconvincing.” In another, former administration lawyers explain how the Trump administration is wrongly talking as if a mere connection—such as members of al-Qaeda being present in Iran—is sufficient to bring war with Iran within the scope of the 2001 AUMF.

How did we get here?

But if the administration’s claims are as baseless as they seem, then how did we get here? How is the executive branch able to take a war authorization passed by Congress and claim that it provides authority for a new war that is so clearly outside of what Congress intended?

When Congress passed the 2001 AUMF three days after the September 11th terrorist attacks, it intended to provide narrow authority to then-President Bush to use military force against those responsible for the attacks, namely al-Qaeda, as well as against those who had harbored them, namely the Afghan Taliban. Congress rejected the Bush administration’s request for broader, forward-looking authority to use force against unknown future terrorist threats.

But there was also uncertainty in those early days after the attacks about who was responsible and so Congress attempted to preserve some flexibility for the president by not naming precisely who it was authorizing force against, instead providing authority to:

“…use all necessary and appropriate force against those nations, organizations, or persons he determines planned, authorized, committed, or aided the terrorist attacks that occurred on September 11, 2001, or harbored such organizations or persons in order to prevent any future acts of international terrorism against the United States by such nations, organizations or persons.”

Yet despite Congress’s narrow intent, this lack of specificity and other safeguards, such as an expiration date, have led to successive administrations from both parties stretching and expanding the authorization far beyond what Congress originally envisioned. Only Congresswoman Barbara Lee foresaw the risk of the authorization spiraling out of control far beyond Congress’ original intent and voted against it back in 2001.

And just as she feared, the 2001 AUMF has now been invoked as authority for a broad range of military operations in at least 14 countries and against more than half a dozen organizations over the course of nearly two decades. These expansions were based on the legal theory that the 2001 AUMF extended to far flung “associated forces” of al-Qaeda and the Taliban as well as on a theory that the AUMF covered ISIS—a group that did not even exist when Congress authorized the use of force in 2001—because of its al-Qaeda in Iraq lineage.

Calls for the repeal or replacement of the 2001 AUMF

Over the years as the executive branch has stretched the 2001 AUMF far beyond Congress’s original intent, many members of Congress have objected and called for repeal or replacement of the 2001 AUMF. Indeed, earlier this month the House passed for the first time in nearly 18 years an appropriations provision that would repeal the 2001 AUMF eight months after enactment.

But despite these protestations, Congress has been unable to wrest control back from the executive branch. And as a result, the executive branch continues to rely not just on expansive notions of Article II authority to use military force without congressional authorization but to buttress its legal case with the 2001 AUMF.

Perhaps unsurprisingly then, the administration’s suggestions that the 2001 AUMF could be used as authority for war with Iran have provoked a storm in Congress. Members in both the House and Senate and on both sides of the aisle are pushing amendments to the annual defense authorization bills under consideration this month that would restrict the President’s authority to go to war with Iran without Congressional authorization.

While it is a positive sign that Congress is increasingly flexing its war powers muscles, a large part of the reason Congress finds itself in this predicament is because it passed—and left on the books—a war authorization that lacks adequate safeguards against executive branch overreach.

Any new authorization for use of military force should contain safeguards

Congress should learn from its current predicament and not only repeal the 2001 AUMF (as well as the 2002 Iraq AUMF aimed at the Saddam Hussein regime), but also ensure that any new authorizations it passes in the future contain minimum safeguards that prevent the president from using the authorization beyond Congress’s intent. As I argued before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee when testifying on this issue last year, AUMFs that do not include adequate safeguards risk embroiling the nation in new conflicts without public debate or authorization from Congress and make it difficult for Congress to reassert the role assigned to it by the Constitution as the body responsible for declaring war. The current debate around war with Iran is a perfect case in point.

Should Congress decide to authorize the use of military force in the future, it should ensure that any authorization it provides is clear, specific, carefully tailored to the situation at hand, and aligned with U.S. legal obligations under international law. Careful drafting and robust safeguards are critical to prevent any new AUMF from being stretched to justify wars Congress never intended to authorize, to ensure ongoing congressional engagement and an informed public as the conflict proceeds, and to prevent any new AUMF from being used in ways that undermine American values, human rights, national security, or the separation of powers.

To that end, any new use of force authorization considered in the future should contain the following minimum safeguards:

  • name the specific enemy
  • list the countries where force is authorized
  • specify the permitted mission objectives
  • require robust reporting both to Congress and the American people
  • require compliance with U.S. obligations under international law
  • clearly specify that it is the sole source of statutory authority to use force against the enemy named
  • set an expiration date

Without these minimal protections, Congress is going to wind up right back in the same predicament it has gotten itself into with the 2001 AUMF.

Diversity in the Legal Field Means Inclusion of Lawyers with Disabilities

We need to increase the high-level diversity and inclusion of lawyers with disabilities in the legal field and within the public service arena. Lawyers with disabilities bring valuable skills to the table that translate to crafting public policy.

My guide dog Bowie and I have attended various meetings on civil rights as the new Chair at the Maryland Commission on Civil Rights, including the Maryland State Bar Association’s diversity summit. Arguably, some leaders may overlook disability in diversity and inclusion discussions. Specifically, disability is indeed an element of diversity and inclusion that has measurable value.

Therefore, a need for a lawyer and his guide dog exists to break through glass doors – sometimes in a figurative way, sometimes in a literal way.

The Problem and Opportunity

A colleague asked me in route from one of these meetings, if I have encountered a lack of awareness at the bar association or in the legal field. I told him that indeed I have encountered negative experiences in building a career as a lawyer with a disability. Overt discriminatory experiences, such as in applying for positions, have occurred. More so, one can sense doubts from journalists, politicos, and lawyers that a blind guy with a dog could be a public official. An article in the 2018 issue of the American Bar Journal documents this point. The article indicated that “statistics show that the legal profession as a whole either isn’t doing its fair share to recruit, retain and advance attorneys with disabilities, or it has failed to be inclusive enough for disabled lawyers to feel comfortable disclosing their impairments.” As I recently told alumni of the Presidential Management Fellowship, building a career as a lawyer with a disability proves no straight path. To improve this situation, I have been a convener. In addition to this, I encourage those with disabilities to forge a unique path, but one that serves the public.

Advantages of Disability

Diversity and inclusion efforts should reinforce that lawyers with disabilities bring value to the table. Arguably, the public health arena has done a great job in increasingly improving equity by framing it as a matter of business value. I am not sure that disability policy has always framed the benefits of disability from a monetary or values standpoint, as much as from a legal one. Therefore, it is important that we emphasize the disability inclusion conversation as a value-based one.

An article, “Employment and Disability: The Advantages of Being Disabled” by Jane Hatten, published in 2014, opined that disability brings a special set of skills to the table. By having to forge unique careers in the face of discrimination, people with disabilities particularly develop and need to daily brandish a set of skills. I suspect this is true of other diverse populations who have had to advocate for themselves. Some of the skill sets identified by Jane Hatten in her article include:

• Diversity
• Innovation and creativity
• Problem solving and persistence
• Using technology creatively

The daily work experience of legal professionals with disabilities is not always for the faint of heart but can be rewarding for any given office. In my personal experience, it can be a challenge to obtain acceptance from fellow professionals to be in the room, if even to turn-on the ubiquitous computer in the morning. Then again, computers seem to also plague most of my sighted colleagues from time to time. Most of them do not of course suffer a computer yelling at them via text-to-speech. I do, however, think many of my colleagues find my text-to-speech remarkable on some level. Moreover, my colleagues do not have a black lab interrupting their conference calls with snoring. So, true diversity and inclusion requires a shared vision for improving the face of our workplaces and professions.

The diversity people with disabilities bring to the table adds to the public policy arena. With an increasingly diverse face of public policy leadership, it is important to recall that all of us have the possibility to have a disability in the life cycle. So, disability is an integral part of diversity and inclusion efforts.

Elevating Public Service
I recently co-presented at a major conference at American University also discussing how we must increase diversity and inclusion of those with disabilities in public affairs. We urged continued progress in increasing our ideas of diversity and inclusion to include, in an active way, disability-related concerns.

Our legal profession needs to increase its recruitment, inclusion, and retention of lawyers with disabilities. By doing so, our public policy will arguably be amplified.

Lawyers are often involved in some form of public sector engagement or work, such as serving in the federal government. For instance, I have been the first dog handler in prestigious programs, such as the Presidential Management Fellowship adding a different voice to public policy. Articles in the ABA have observed that, while progress has been slowly achieved, many lawyers with disabilities tend to be limited in their career options – often to the federal government.

It is an honor to serve the public. Do not misunderstand me. The federal workforce consisted approximately of 14 percent of people with disabilities in 2015 or in 2016. While a positive, progress must be achieved. A need also exists for these placements to be at higher levels. I want, however, the full range of options open to me and to all professionals with disabilities to revolve from the private sector to the public sector. Or, vice versa.

Resources:

Breaking open those doors will require a collaborative, informed approach. Some of the following Resources and tools may help you.

• Consider organizations, such as the Disability Rights Bar Association as well as the National Association of Lawyers with Disabilities.
• Consider adopting the affirmative recruitment and hiring pledge found at the ABA’s Commission on Disability Rights.
• Consider what you need to do in being accommodations or modifications oriented and proactive. Find organizations, such as the American Foundation for the Blind for information on tech accessibility.

In closing, disability is a part of diversity. Diversity and inclusion efforts to incorporate the talents of the differently abled in the 21st century must be at the forefront of opportunities in the legal profession, in the nonprofit sector, and in the political arena.

Gary C. Norman, Esq. L.L.M. serves as the Chair of the Maryland Commission on Civil Rights. In 2018, he received a mini grant from the German Marshall Fund of the U.S. co-facilitating a series of public policy dialogues on international disability policy.
On July 22, he will speak on a panel, organized by him in partnership with a local ACS state chapter.

Did the Dissent in Gundy v. United States Open Up a Can of Worms?

On June 20, 2019, the Supreme Court held that Congress did not unconstitutionally delegate its legislative power to the Attorney General (AG) in the Sex Offender Registration and Notification Act (SORNA). Although the Court upheld the statute, Gundy may have opened up a big can of worms.

SORNA requires “sex offenders” to register in every state in which they reside, work, or study. The Act focuses on those convicted after the statute’s enactment; it specifies that a sex offender must register initially before completing their prison term or within three days of sentencing if the sentence does not include imprisonment. The Act gave the AG the authority “to specify the applicability of the [Act’s] requirements” to those convicted before the Act’s enactment (so-called “pre-Act offenders”) and “to prescribe rules for the registration of any such sex offenders and for other categories of sex offenders who are unable to comply with” the Act’s registration requirements. The AG issued a regulation providing that SORNA’s requirements “apply to all sex offenders, including sex offenders convicted of the offense for which registration is required prior to the enactment of that Act.”

Gundy was a pre-Act offender who failed to register as required. In his defense, he argued that SORNA’s delegation to the AG was unconstitutional. The Second Circuit rejected his argument, as had the eleven other federal courts of appeals that addressed the issue. When Gundy petitioned the Supreme Court for a writ of certiorari, the Department of Justice didn’t even respond until the Court ordered it to. The Supreme Court, which at the time included Justice Kennedy, granted certiorari despite the lack of a split in the circuits. Ultimately, the Court agreed with the federal courts of appeals and upheld SORNA.

Justice Kagan wrote an opinion for herself and Justices Ginsburg, Breyer, and Sotomayor. She explained that the Constitution assigns the legislative power to Congress. Thus, Congress may not transfer powers that are “strictly and exclusively” legislative to another branch of government. It may, however, enlist the assistance of federal agencies to implement federal statutes, so long as the statute meets the test from the 1928 case of J.W. Hampton, Jr. & Co. v. United States: it must provide an “intelligible principle” to govern the agency’s actions. SORNA did so by requiring the AG to apply the registration requirements to pre-Act offenders as soon as possible, leaving the AG only the discretion to work out the details. Thus, the plurality opined that “the delegation in SORNA easily passes muster.”

Justice Alito voted with the plurality of “liberal” justices, but did not join Justice Kagan’s opinion. Instead, he voiced his willingness to “reconsider the approach we have taken for the past 84 years,” if there were a majority willing to do so. Justice Kavanaugh didn’t participate in this case, because he wasn’t on the Court yet when it was argued. That left only the Chief Justice, and Justices Thomas and Gorsuch to dissent.

Justice Gorsuch wrote for the dissenters. In his view, SORNA gave the AG unbridled discretion; it “endow[ed] the nation’s chief prosecutor with the power to write his own criminal code governing the lives of a half-million citizens.” Rather than simply disagree with the plurality’s interpretation of the Act, however, the dissenters advocated abandoning the “intelligible principle” test. Instead, they would uphold delegations only when Congress either 1) makes the policy decisions and authorizes an agency merely to “fill up the details”; 2) makes the application of a statutory rule depend upon executive fact-finding; or 3) assigns “non-legislative responsibilities,” i.e., leaves the executive discretion over matters that are already within the executive’s constitutional purview. In the dissenters’ view, SORNA does not meet those criteria. Presumably, Justice Kavanaugh would join the dissenters in future cases, which might bring Justice Alito into the fold as well.

The Court has only invalidated federal statutes for violating the so-called “non-delegation doctrine” twice—both more than eighty years ago. Chief Justice Rehnquist breathed some life into the moribund doctrine in a concurring opinion in 1980. Since then, however, the Court has upheld many broad statutory delegations of authority to agencies, including statutes empowering agencies to regulate in the “public interest,” set “fair and equitable rates” or “just and reasonable” rates, and to set air quality standards that are “requisite to protect the public health.” After Gundy, such typical delegations may not survive. As Justice Kagan warned (without hyperbole): “if SORNA’s delegation is unconstitutional, then most of Government is unconstitutional.”

Of course, it is Congress’s job to legislate. In the dissenters’ ideal world, Congress would make all of the requisite policy decisions, leaving only the details and implementation to agencies. On its face, it sounds reasonable. As a practical matter, however, requiring such specificity from Congress would grind regulatory lawmaking to a halt. Broad delegations are often the key to gathering enough votes to pass legislation. They give agencies the ability to respond to changing circumstances more quickly than Congress can. They insulate from politics the kinds of policy decisions that are more appropriately made by apolitical experts in agencies. As Professor Nicholas Bagley explained, “To run a functional, modern government, Congress has no choice but to delegate authority and discretion to federal agencies.”

Perhaps we need not panic. Justice Gorsuch cautioned against overstating the problem with the “intelligible principle” test; the Court has muted its impact already by invalidating statutes using other doctrines. Moreover, the dissenters appeared to be particularly concerned with the criminal nature of the Act. Justice Gorsuch ended his opinion with the hope that “the Court may yet recognize that, while Congress can enlist considerable assistance from the executive branch in filling up details and finding facts, it may never hand off to the nation’s chief prosecutor the power to write his own criminal code.” Perhaps adoption of the dissenters’ test wouldn’t change the outcome in many cases. Maybe if push comes to shove, the Chief Justice would vote to uphold Congress’s delegation out of “concern[] … with preserving the Court’s institutional position and the larger stability of constitutional arrangements,” as Professor Adrian Vermeule suggested.

The dissenters also said, however, that a “statute directing an agency to regulate private conduct to the extent ‘feasible’” would not satisfy them, because “feasibility” “might refer to ‘technological’ feasibility, ‘economic’ feasibility, ‘administrative’ feasibility, or even ‘political’ feasibility.” And Congress’s declaration of purpose cannot clarify the matter. Obviously, legislative history doesn’t help these textualists either. Would the dissenters allow agencies to regulate “in the public interest” or to “protect the public health” then? It seems doubtful.

We are left to wonder what Justice Alito might do in future cases. He could have joined the three dissenters without changing the outcome of this case; the Court would have split evenly, which results in an affirmance of the lower court’s judgment. Had he wanted to change the outcome, he could have joined the other “conservative” justices to order that the case be reargued so that Justice Kavanaugh could participate, as the Court did in Knick v. Township of Scott. Perhaps he felt constrained by the Court’s prior opinion on SORNA from 2012. Or perhaps changing the test wouldn’t have changed the outcome for him. He might favor abandoning the “intelligible principle” test, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll vote to invalidate statutes as unconstitutional delegations of legislative authority.

What Gundy does mean is that statutory interpretation will continue to reign supreme in constitutional law. It means the Supreme Court will have the last word in our biggest debates about public policy. And it guarantees full dockets for the lower federal courts and for the excellent lawyers in the Department of Justice who have dedicated their careers to defending the United States.

The Hidden Threat to Our Constitution

Despite all the alarming news we read daily about affronts to long-accepted political and legal norms, the greatest threat to our constitutional order is one that almost never makes the headlines.  Several aggressive, well-funded conservative advocacy groups, with occasional success enlisting politically naïve progressives, have been working hard to open up the U.S. Constitution to this country’s first convention since 1787.  Their success would jeopardize all civil liberties and all restraints on presidential power.  And they are much closer than most people would imagine.

The last effort to rewrite our Constitution was led by the unifying figure of George Washington.  This time, former Wisconsin Governor Scott Walker, one of our most divisive figures, is leading the effort.  After losing a razor-thin race for re-election, Governor Walker signed on with the Center for State-Led National Debt Solutions, one of several groups seeking to invoke Article V of the Constitution.  Under Article V, petitions from 34 states require Congress to call a convention to propose amendments to the Constitution.  These groups enjoy strong support from the American Legislative Exchange Council (ALEC), the right-wing corporate advocacy group aligned with the Koch brothers’ network best-known for promoting “Stand Your Ground” gun legislation and “bathroom bills”.

Walker’s group’s nominal goal is adding a balanced budget amendment to the Constitution.  A balanced budget amendment would create powerful pressure to cut social programs such as Social Security, Medicaid, and nutrition assistance.     A balanced budget amendment would deepen and lengthen recessions.  It would require a super-majority to prevent spending cuts or tax increases – which would further depress the economy – when a recession reduces revenues and increases demand for programs like unemployment insurance and food assistance.  Even without a balanced budget amendment, Congress has had trouble enacting stimulus legislation in recent recessions.  A balanced budget amendment likely would prompt a minority to extort pork-barrel spending or other policy concessions in exchange for allowing stimulus legislation.  This has occurred in states requiring supermajorities for fiscal legislation.  And a balanced budget amendment would feed partisanship.  With President Trump already threatening to settle immigrants specifically in Democratic-leaning areas – despite the Constitution’s call for “uniform” rules – we can expect future presidents to allocate required budget cuts to opposition states.

As devastating as a balanced budget amendment would be, it is only one of the dangers an Article V convention poses.  Another group, the Convention of the States Project (COSP), seeks an Article V convention for broader purposes.  One of these would be to “impose fiscal restraints on the federal government”.  This apparently is intended to invite an amendment that would not only require a balanced budget but also cap federal spending well below current levels.

COSP also seeks constitutional amendments to “limit the power and jurisdiction of the federal government”.  This presumably could strip the federal government of the power to pass civil rights, environmental, consumer protection, or other important legislation.  This is not implausible.  Leading Republicans have expressed misgivings about the civil rights laws, and this Administration has sharply reduced environmental and consumer credit standards.  Indeed, the requirements that states provide equal protection and adhere to the Bill of Rights extend “the power and jurisdiction of the federal government”.

Yet the dangers of an Article V convention go even beyond COSP’s ambitious agenda.  Nothing in Article V or anywhere else in the Constitution limits the scope of the changes a convention could consider.  And even if such a limit existed, nothing in Article V empowers any body to regulate or constrain a convention.  Congress’s powers under Article V are confined to specifying the ratification method.  The Supreme Court has held that efforts to amend the Constitution involve “political questions” beyond the jurisdiction of the federal courts.

The only prior convention empowered to start rewriting our Constitution – the Philadelphia Convention of 1787 – shows how easily an Article V convention could disregard any purported limits and open up the entire Constitution.  Unlike the proposed Article V convention, the Philadelphia Convention was subject to strict, binding limits on its jurisdiction.  Article XIII of the Articles of Confederation prohibited any amendments not agreed to by every state; Article VI forbade agreements among states outside the Articles of Confederation.  After being called to propose amendments to the Articles, the Philadelphia Convention quickly discarded those rules and began writing an entirely new constitution.  It also decreed that its new constitution would become effective upon ratification by nine states, not the unanimous approval Article XIII demanded.

Article V is similarly silent on how a convention would operate.  Here again, neither Congress nor the courts have any authority to impose rules.  Convention advocates, however, insist that each state would have an equal vote.  If so, then the twenty-six least-populous states – with a combined population of less than 18% of the national total – could craft amendments for the nation.  The views of 577,737 people in Wyoming could cancel out those of the 39.6 million people of California.

Supporters of an Article V convention conjure a fairytale process with citizens from across the country coming together with openness and good will to seek the common good.  The reality of today’s bare-knuckle politics suggests otherwise.  Big-money interests that already spend heavily to influence Congress would redouble their efforts in pursuit of permanent protection for their interests through a constitutional amendment.  Russia, and possibly other foreign powers, likely would intervene surreptitiously.

Little wonder that leaders across the political spectrum have expressed alarm at the prospect of an Article V convention.  Several of the nation’s founders staunchly opposed holding a new convention.  John Jay expressed skepticism that most political complaints justified “running such extravagant risques” as a new convention would entail.  Chief Justice Warren Burger stated that a “Constitutional Convention today would be a free-for-all for special interest groups”.  Justice Antonin Scalia said “I certainly would not want a Constitutional Convention. I mean whoa.  Who knows what would come out of that?”  Justice Arthur Goldberg noted “it cannot be denied that" the 1787 Philadelphia convention “broke every restraint intended to limit its power and agenda”, and “any attempt at limiting the agenda [of an Article V convention] would almost certainly be unenforceable.”

Nor would the ratification process protect against a runaway convention.  An Article V convention could follow the Philadelphia Convention’s example and unilaterally redefine the ratification process.  It could, for example, call for a national referendum to ratify its handiwork.  Even if the current state-based ratification process remains, majorities in the thirty-eight smallest states – with just over 40% of the nation’s population – would suffice to bind the country.

Moreover, the convention could improve its chances of securing ratification by bundling together provisions appealing to different political groups.  Nobody can be sure what would happen if the convention combined a “national security” exception to the First Amendment along with limiting Second Amendment protections to official militia activities.  Similarly, an amendment revising the Electoral College, declaring that this country is a Christian Nation, and prohibiting all affirmative action might, on balance, appeal to a fairly broad segment of the electorate.  Here again, this approach has considerable precedent:  several existing amendments, including the Fifth, Sixth, Eighth, and Fourteenth, combine several disparate provisions.

Each of us have seen infuriating setbacks in constitutional law.  The harm resulting from these changes should not be underestimated.  All these changes, however, resulted from judicial decisions.  As such, they are subject to reversal once the national mood shifts and the Supreme Court’s composition changes.

The damage an Article V convention would do is of an entirely different character.  Losses there could not be made up without holding a new Article V convention, with all the risks that it could make things even worse.

States that have not yet passed convention calls should resist the entreaties of Scott Walker, ALEC, COSP, and the rest.  States that have convention calls on the books should rescind them as soon as possible, just as Delaware, Maryland, Nevada, and New Mexico have done in recent years.  If they do not, convention proponents are likely to seize the opportunity to declare the 34-state threshold met next time they control both chambers of Congress.  This would require some serious fuzzy math, but proponents have shown their willingness to go that route and we have little reason to hope that Congress will take a principled stand against them.  This is truly a case where an ounce of prevention exceeds many tons of attempted cure.

In Tipping Points and Nudges: Review of Cass Sunstein's "How Change Happens"

Election night 2008 in the United States proved to be a key inflection point for social change in America. For some, President Obama’s election marked that we had reached a milestone akin to the “end of history” predicted more than a decade before: that the United States had entered a post-racial era.  Something else happened that night as well.  In the liberal state of California, where Obama carried the state by a considerable margin, the state’s voters approved Proposition 8 which prohibited same-sex marriage in the state.  Both outcomes generated strong reactions from opponents to these events.  Barack Obama’s political rivals vowed to limit the President’s power, and the somewhat veiled racism of the campaign against the nation’s first Black President unleashed a more public form of race-baiting, that has only gained strength in recent years.  On the marriage equality front, advocates organized on a state-by-state basis until they built a groundswell of public support for same-sex marriage culminating in victory before the Supreme Court in which laws against same-sex marriage were found unconstitutional.

What do these outcomes say about how social change happens in the United States?  Legal scholar Cass Sunstein’s new book, How Change Happens (MIT Press, 2019), explores the mechanisms through which social change can occur. While other recent additions to social change literature, like David Cole’s Engines of Liberty and Leslie Crutchfield’s work that bears the same title as Sunstein’s, tend to take a more inductive approach, looking retrospectively at successful social movements and trying to understand the components of those successes, Sunstein offers a more theoretical approach.  He attempts to explain some of the psychological forces at work when individuals and groups try to bring about social change.

For Sunstein “seemingly small perturbations can often produce big shifts.”  Such shifts occur through the process of what Sunstein calls “unleashing”: when “norms are revised, people will reveal preexisting preferences and values, which norms had successfully suppressed. What was once unsayable is said, and what was once unthinkable is done.”  This can create a tipping point when “large-scale change is possible.”  When people want such change, “[w]hat is needed is some kind of movement, initiated by people who say that they disapprove of the norm.” They succeed “when some kind of tipping point is reached, by which time it is socially costless, and maybe beneficial, and maybe even mandatory, to say: Me Too.” As Sunstein argues, “[u]nder the right conditions, and with the right distribution of [individuals’ receptivity to change], a small spark can ignite a conflagration, eventually dismantling the norm."

Can Sunstein’s theories help explain the recent instances of social change in the United States identified earlier, like the hard-fought victory on the marriage equality front or the emergence of a newly emboldened white nationalism and even white supremacy in the United States?  Following the Proposition 8 loss in California in 2008, marriage equality advocates did not take the defeat lying down.  They began organizing in other states and started to chip away at opposition to same-sex marriage. On election night in 2012, the norm had shifted so much that in four states, voters voting in ballot referenda supported marriage equality: in three states they would vote in favor of pro-marriage equality initiatives, and, in a fourth, they would vote to reject an initiative opposing marriage equality. In 2013, the Supreme Court would hold that portions of a federal law limiting recognition of same-sex marriages were unconstitutional, and then, in 2015, it would reach its landmark decision holding all state laws against same-sex marriage unconstitutional.

Did nudges play into this shift? Did the campaigns in state after state, and carefully orchestrated litigation in various states and different fora help to shift public, and, ultimately, judicial opinion?  Were these just nudges or something else?  It appears likely that the monumental shift in public opinion and the ultimate outcomes in landmark cases at the Supreme Court were a product of millions of conversations—interpersonal nudges—combined with national, federated, incremental, and thoughtfully calibrated legal, legislative, and electoral tactics. While Sunstein’s vision of social change would appear to offer some explanatory value, it may not tell the whole story.

But trends toward greater inclusiveness and diversity are not the only social change that the United States has seen over the last decade. The candidacy and then the presidency of Donald Trump would prove that other forces also seem at work in American culture, and around the world.

For some, the election of Donald Trump, Brexit, and the rise of a conservative populism are evidence of wide-ranging social change. It is difficult to lay all of that at the feet of Donald Trump, and, in many ways, he may be a symptom of larger forces and not a cause of any of them. At the same time, his cavalier attitude (at best) toward white supremacists has created an environment in which they feel unleashed as Sunstein might say: unconstrained and willing to enter the public discourse and perhaps leading others to do the same.  This phenomena would appear consistent with Sunstein’s social change thesis.

We can thus see that Sunstein’s theory of change appears to accurately describe at least some recent social change.  How Change Happens certainly tells a significant part of the story of social change, and Sunstein admits that nudges are not appropriate in every setting. It is nevertheless hard to discern when he believes they are appropriate and when they are not.  Sometimes social change advocates have to do more than a nudge, like organize other like-minded people, protest, sue, boycott, and engage in social media campaigns.  Similarly, Sunstein believes tipping points are central to change, although he barely mentions them in this work.  I would have liked to have known more about these aspects of change: how can we know when social change has reached such a tipping point; how can we force them; when do we know we are close?

Nevertheless, Sunstein’s How Change Happens is a welcome and important contribution to the growing scholarship on social movements, particularly at a time when many are thinking about social change and how to bring it about. While much of that research attempts to excavate past successful social movements, Sunstein offers more of a theoretical analysis of the potential triggers of social change.  Although the book offers many concrete examples of nudges at work, armed with Sunstein’s theoretical description of the levers of social change, those looking to bring about social change can draw inspiration and guidance from How Change Happens as they embark on efforts to drive norm change, norm cascades, and tipping points.  While Sunstein’s thesis does not explain all social change—particularly that which requires major societal and cultural shifts—his important ideas can help guide change large and small.

A full-length review of How Change Happens will be published by the Notre Dame Journal of Law, Ethics, and Public Policy. A pre-publication draft of that article is available here.

The Fatal Flaw in the Argument for McGahn's Testimonial Immunity

A May 20 letter of White House Counsel Pat A. Cipollone to House Judiciary Committee Chairman Jerrold Nadler informed the Chairman that the President had ordered his former counsel, Donald F. McGahn II, not to honor the committee’s subpoena for Mr. McGahn’s testimony. Accompanying the letter was a Justice Department Office of Legal Counsel (OLC) opinion of the same date, claiming that Congress may not constitutionally compel the President's senior advisers, either current or former, to testify about their official duties. The fatal flaw in the OLC memo, however, is that the unspoken premise of its argument points convincingly to the opposite conclusion.

The U.S. Constitution says nothing about executive branch secrecy. Unlike Article I, which specifically permits secret congressional deliberations, Article II, dealing with the executive branch, is silent on any question of testimonial immunity or executive privilege of any kind. Nonetheless, the Supreme Court has held that the concept of executive privilege has constitutional roots: “[T]he privilege can be said to derive from the supremacy of each branch within its own assigned area of constitutional duties. Certain powers and privileges flow from the nature of enumerated powers . . . .” Each branch of government, the Supreme Court recognized, must be deemed to have implicit authority sufficient to enable it to discharge its constitutionally assigned functions.

This notion of functionally implicit authority is the foundational premise of OLC’s argument for the absolute testimonial immunity it claims prevents Mr. McGahn from testifying. The OLC opinion rests on the proposition that “[r]ecognizing a congressional authority to compel the President's immediate advisers to appear and testify at the times and places of their choosing would interfere directly with the President's ability to faithfully discharge his responsibilities.” This rationale supposedly extends even to former advisers because “the confidentiality interests associated with the advisers’ former role remain just as strong.”

What this analysis misses, however, is that the premise of functionally implicit authority applies no less to Congress than it does to the President. That is why, in the one judicial decision regarding the testimonial immunity of former presidential advisers, the court found for Congress. Committee on the Judiciary, US. House of Representatives v. Miers dealt with the refusal by a former senior adviser to President George W. Bush to testify before the House Judiciary Committee about the forced resignations of a number of U.S. attorneys. U.S. District Court Judge John D. Bates rejected the claim of absolute testimonial immunity and declared that former White House Counsel Harriet Miers was not immune from compulsory congressional process.

Judges Bates’s analysis recognized that “Congress's power of inquiry is as broad as its power to legislate and lies at the very heart of Congress's constitutional role.”. Then, reasoning from the same functionalist premise that now underlies the OLC McGahn opinion, Judge Bates concluded: “Presidential autonomy, such as it is, cannot mean that the Executive's actions are totally insulated from scrutiny by Congress. That would eviscerate Congress's historical oversight function.” Judge Bates emphasized the importance of requiring presidential advisers to appear and to assert the applicability of executive privilege, if appropriate, only with regard to specific questions. A blanket refusal to testify would, in Judge Bates’s analysis, leave Congress with “no recourse to obtain information [from presidential advisers] that is plainly not subject to any colorable claim of executive privilege.”

The Judiciary Committee’s entitlement amounts to this: Mr. McGahn, like any subpoenaed witness, must appear. Should it appear to him that any particular question would require him to divulge information potentially subject to executive privilege, he should say so. The committee, in turn, should keep track of those questions and transmit them to the White House, giving them a brief period in which to decide whether to assert privilege regarding any particular answer. Should privilege be asserted, the committee could then decide whether to defer to White House claims or litigate them. Either way, the President’s blanket directive not to appear should be recognized as insupportable.

The OLC opinion notes the Miers case, but overlooks its functionalist argument. OLC dismisses its authority because the D.C. Circuit stayed the decision pending appeal. (The case was ultimately settled by the Obama Administration, which withdrew any presidential objection to Ms. Miers’s testimony.) Most tellingly, OLC summarily ignores the potential impact of absolute testimonial immunity on Congress’s constitutionally rooted investigative powers. One looks in vain for even a cite to the Supreme Court’s 1927 decision in McGrain v. Daugherty, or to any of the other many judicial decisions affirming the constitutional centrality of Congress’s investigative functions.

Judge Bates’s opinion stands well on its own, but, given a president who would habituate his followers to distrust judges antagonistic to his views, it may be worth noting a bit of Judge Bates’s background. A Vietnam veteran, he was appointed to the U.S. District Court by George W. Bush in 2001. His career in the D.C. U.S. Attorney’s Office included two years as a deputy to Independent Counsel Kenneth Starr’s Whitewater investigation. Chief Justice John Roberts appointed Judge Bates in 2009 to serve as presiding judge on the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court. He has dismissed a number of challenges to executive power including: the challenge by the father of Anwar al-Awlaki to the placement of his son on an Obama Administration “kill list,” an attempt by the Government Accountability Office to determine the membership of Vice President Dick Cheney’s national energy policy task force, a suit by Valerie Plame Wilson against Cheney and other White House officials over the leak of her role at the CIA, and a suit by members of Congress challenging Bush’s authority to withdraw unilaterally from the ABM Treaty. In other words, Judge Bates is no “squish” when it comes to executive power.

OLC is correct that presidents of both parties have asserted for decades that their senior advisers have a constitutionally implicit absolute immunity from testifying to Congress under compulsion. The legal problem for this position is that any such argument depends on the kind of functional analysis that more persuasively supports Congress’s constitutionally implicit authority to compel presidential aides to appear. The one court to reach the issue decided against the executive branch in 2008. It is still the more convincing view.