What the Law of Military Obedience Can (and Can’t) Do—What Happens if a President’s Orders are Unlawful?

*This piece was cross-published at Just Security.

A proposal to bring back waterboarding and a “hell of a lot worse.”  The possible suggestion that members of the military should intentionally target terrorists’ civilian family members. A threat to rain “fire and fury” on North Korea. With comments like these, President Trump has turned the responsibility of members of the military to obey superior orders – long an object of study for scholars of military law – into the subject of popular headlines and editorials. What happens, commentators have asked, “if President Trump orders Secretary of Defense Mattis to do something deeply unwise?” Would the military actually carry out such orders?

Much has been written, of course, on these important questions, which almost inevitably arise in extremely difficult situations. In order to provide those interested with the basics of what the law requires in such situations, I recently wrote an American Constitution Society Issue Brief entitled What the Military Law of Obedience Does (and Doesn’t) DoThis body of law, which has roots that date back to antiquity, makes clear that members of the military have a dual obligation to both obey “lawful” orders and disobey “manifestly” or “patently” illegal ones. As I argue in the Issue Brief, this means, in practice, that service members must refuse to transgress clear and well-known legal rules, but that commentators should not expect military disobedience to save the Nation from simply unwise or legally contested orders.

To understand why this is the case, it is important to recognize that the law of obedience sits at the intersection of two fundamental interests – the need for good order and discipline in the military, which requires service members to obey superior orders; and the supremacy of the law, which requires service members to be responsible for their illegal acts.  Because these interests can conflict – a superior can issue an unlawful order – the law must mediate between them.

To that end, it is clear that neither extreme can work. On the one hand, the Nuremberg Tribunals and a large body of military jurisprudence rejects the notion that members of the military should be insulated from liability for following orders.  On the other hand, there is broad recognition that holding subordinates liable for all infractions, whether they were conducted pursuant to superior orders or not, would threaten good order and discipline by encouraging legal debate at every stage of the chain of command.

So how does the law of obedience resolve this tension? In short, by narrowing the set of orders members of the military are required to disobey to those that are “manifestly” or “patently” illegal. Scholars of military law are clear that such orders are not difficult to discern; as one military justice scholar put it, manifestly illegal orders are precisely those orders that do not prompt a service member to “reason why” the order is unlawful. Rather, they are orders that any soldier would immediately recognize as problematic.

Which brings us back to President Trump’s comments. Then-candidate Trump’s comments about waterboarding or the targeting of civilians prompted immediate and strong criticism from numerous former Government officials – most prominently, former Director of the Central Intelligence Agency Michael Hayden, but also many former senior Government lawyers – who all made clear that they would expect the military to disobey such orders.  Indeed, the intentional targeting of civilians (who are not participating directly in hostilities) is the paradigmatic example of an illegal order and recent changes to the law have also made clear that waterboarding is prohibited. It thus seems likely that service members would refuse to carry out such orders.

President Trump’s comments about North Korea, however, are a different story. The vast majority, if not all, of the members of the military are in no position to exercise any degree of control over the jus ad bellum question of whether the United States goes to war, and the law therefore does not generally hold these members liable for such a decision. It is thus unclear whether such service members would even have an obligation to disobey manifestly illegal orders to use force, as they would face no punishment if they carried them out.

But even if they did have such an obligation, there are few questions of constitutional law more contested than the circumstances in which the President can use force without prior congressional authorization. Similarly, international law does not precisely define the circumstances in which a State may use force in the territory of another State.  Thus, although one could, of course, imagine a manifestly illegal order to use force, it seems likely that such an order would present a question of contested legality that does not trigger an obligation to disobey.

It is important to note here that the obligation of members of the military to follow superior orders is distinct from the responsibilities of individuals, including lawyers, who advise decision-makers, such as the President, the Secretary of Defense, and other military officers, in the first instance. Those individuals should argue for the legal and policy positions they think are right. And, as Department of Defense doctrine contemplates, individuals in the chain of command may ask legal questions through appropriate channels or seek clarification of questionable orders.

But once an individual with appropriate authority has made a decision and any questions have been clarified, the strong presumption is that subordinates will carry out that order. This may seem unsatisfying, particularly given the rise in Presidential war-making since World War II. But it is the way it should be. Expanding the circumstances in which members of the military could disobey superior orders would not only threaten good order and discipline, but it would also reduce the incentives for senior leadership to pay careful attention to the legality of their actions and potentially have a deleterious impact on civil-military relations. An elected president, Senate-confirmed military leadership, and strict adherence to the chain-of-command are the foundation of civilian control of the military, and being too quick to refuse orders from the President or the Secretary of Defense threatens this bedrock tenant of American democracy. For, in the end, it is not individual members of the armed forces who bear the primary responsibility for stopping unwise military actions. Rather, it is the responsibility of other actors in our political system – Congress, through the exercise of its war powers; civil society; and, ultimately, all of us working to make our political vision a reality.

Christopher Fonzone is a partner in Sidley Austin’s Privacy and Cybersecurity group. Before joining Sidley, Christopher was Deputy Assistant and Deputy Counsel to President Obama and the Legal Adviser to the National Security Council.  Before his time in the White House, he was Senior Counsel to the General Counsel at the Department of Defense and also served in the Department of Justice, both in the Office of Legal Counsel and on the Civil Division’s Appellate Staff. The views expressed in this article are exclusively those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of Sidley Austin LLP and its partners.This article has been prepared for informational purposes only and does not constitute legal advice. This information is not intended to create, and receipt of it does not constitute, a lawyer-client relationship. Readers should not act upon this without seeking advice from professional advisers.

Firing Mueller Is Only the First Step

*This piece was originally published in The Regulatory Review.

Firing Mueller would be extreme, but the next step would be even more perilous for the President.

I agree with much of what my friend and colleague Richard Pierce has written in his essay, “The Easy Path to Firing Mueller,” but I partially dissent because Pierce, probably like President Donald Trump, has not figured out what comes next.

Given the manner in which the President has reached many decisions, the firing is likely to come when special counsel Robert Mueller steps over an unknowable line that the President has drawn, and the President decides that he has gone too far.

When President Richard Nixon in 1973 ordered the firing of special prosecutor Archibald Cox—who had been appointed to investigate the Watergate break-in—Cox chose not to fight the President. But Ralph Nader and several members of Congress brought suit and won a declaratory judgment from U.S. District Judge Gerhard Gesell. Judge Gesell held that Cox’s firing in the Saturday Night Massacre was unlawful because the applicable regulation authorizing the appointment of a special prosecutor permitted the firing only if Cox had been guilty of “extraordinary improprieties,” which no one claimed had happened.

The regulation now is a little different—removal of a special counsel is permitted only “for misconduct, dereliction of duty, incapacity, conflict of interest, or for other good cause”—and Mueller is much more of a fighter than Cox. I expect that Mueller would be in court the next day, seeking reinstatement, and with a good chance of winning, certainly in the lower courts. Moreover, since the regulation is one that the U.S. Department of Justice (DOJ) chose on its own to issue, the courts would be much less sympathetic to a separation of powers claim than if Congress were to impose a good cause limit on removal.

Meanwhile, the President, and those at the DOJ carrying out his bidding, will have to figure out their next move. Will the President appoint someone to replace Mueller? If so, who? And what assurances will that person want before putting his or her neck into a Trumpian noose?

Although Congress does not have a formal role in the selection of a replacement, many members on both sides of the aisle would almost certainly insist on holding a hearing and demand that whoever is calling the shots at the DOJ explain what happened and whether the Mueller replacement would continue an independent investigation. The President may have developed a particular dislike for Mueller, but he would almost certainly harbor the same enmity toward Mueller’s successor, especially if the special counsel’s core staff members remains in place, as they did after the Saturday Night Massacre.

The President has another option, which is even more explosive. The Russia investigation exists because the acting Attorney General, Rod Rosenstein, decided to use the DOJ regulation that authorizes the appointment of special counsels and gives them a good measure of independence. President Trump—or someone at the DOJ acting at his direction—has two more or less interchangeable choices: withdraw the order appointing this special counsel, or revoke the regulation authorizing appointments of any special counsels, both of which would have the effect of abolishing the office.

But that move alone would not end the Russia probe. Presumably, all of the pending cases and all of the open investigations would revert to the criminal division or perhaps the national security division at the DOJ, either with the former Mueller staff or without them. The investigations would continue, unless the President tried to order the DOJ to dismiss the pending indictments and close down all further inquiries.

But if firing Mueller would cause a firestorm, abolishing the office and ending the investigation would be the true nuclear option. And as Professor Pierce has pointed out, if that scenario were to play out, the 2018 election would be even more important to assure that democracy and the rule of law continue in this country.

Alan B. Morrison is the Lerner Family Associate Dean for Public Interest & Public Service Law at George Washington University Law School. He was counsel for the plaintiffs in Nader v. Bork, in which the U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia ruled that the firing of Archibald Cox in the Saturday Night Massacre was unlawful.

Minor Procedural Tweaks, but Potential Major Erosion of Our Children’s Civil Rights

During my time as Chief of Staff at the Department of Education’s Office for Civil Rights (OCR), our work was guided by a one-word credo: justice. We approached every decision about case management, and others, with the intent of achieving the most justice for the highest number of students. Congress created OCR for this reason, to be responsible for the civil rights of students. Throughout its existence, OCR has responded to complaints—recently over 10,000 a year— by vastly expanding the Civil Rights Data Collection giving the public a comprehensive understanding on the state of civil rights in schools, and promulgating key regulations and guidance to ensure schools are aware of their obligations under our country’s foundational civil rights laws.

The daily pursuit of justice required leadership from the Assistant Secretary for Civil Rights and the Education Secretary, but was critically buttressed by a 500-person investigative staff who, in large part, woke up every morning deeply committed to OCR’s mission to “ensure equal access to education and to promote educational excellence throughout the nation through vigorous enforcement of civil rights.”

Unfortunately, there are signs that OCR’s commitment to this mission is eroding.

OCR recently changed its Case Processing Manual (CPM)—the internal document that guides staff’s investigative work—to (1) remove any reference to “systemic cases” and (2) permit dismissal of complaints that are part of a “pattern previously filed with OCR” or place an “unreasonable burden on OCR’s resources.” Though masqueraded as a boon for operational efficiency, these changes undermine the mission of OCR.

The removal of “systemic cases” from OCR’s investigative guidance is of particular concern because such cases go to the heart of OCR’s mission. Systemic cases are those in which the facts suggest discrimination was not limited to an individual complainant, but rather that a school or district had policies or practices that led to potential system-wide discrimination. In essence, systemic cases concern not only the students who file complaints, but also similarly situated students who face discrimination. This isn’t an overreach or an extension of congressional authority, it is the fundamental purpose of OCR: to protect all children who are subject to discrimination.

Additionally, the two new permitted rationales to dismiss cases allow OCR to sidestep cases without answering what should be the controlling question: is discrimination present. Whether a complaint is among a pattern is agnostic to the determination of whether discriminatory harm to students has occurred. Similarly, dismissing complaints for the sole reason that they place an unreasonable burden on OCR resources allows staff to substitute a judgment on bandwidth for a determination of whether a school is violating the law.

These changes signal to schools that OCR is not interested in vigorously enforcing the law. While the Obama Administration saw OCR as the ultimate safeguard for children in need of protection, these changes suggest OCR will avoid in-depth investigations and will only get involved in cases that are not too hard or complicated.

Department spokesperson attributed the changes as steps to better manage the case docket. In any organization, finding ways to improve internal processes and maximize staff and resources is important. Much of my work as Chief of Staff at OCR was to focus on exactly these issues—how to efficiently use increased dollar resources requested by the Obama Administration and approved by a bipartisan Congress. OCR would certainly benefit from continuing innovations to help manage an increasing caseload and novel (and heartbreaking) forms of discrimination. The present changes, however, will not help OCR achieve its mission by increasing efficiency; instead, they will artificially reduce the office’s caseload by sidestepping its mission.

If systemic cases or multiple filers are too burdensome for the Office for Civil Rights, the Administration’s conclusion should not be to shirk OCR’s mandate. The solution should be to increase the budget, add more staff, and use that staff efficiently. Unfortunately, the Department has proposed cuts to OCR in the last two budget cycles in the spring of 2017 and 2018. When justifying those proposed cuts, Secretary DeVos has indicated that the office has become more efficient. In this way, DeVos’s narrative about OCR is inconsistent: it cannot both need procedural changes to relieve an overburdened staff and be able to sustain cuts which would decrease staff levels. The only way to reconcile these positions is to acknowledge a concerning trend of less vigorous protection for children.

Fortunately, Congress has disagreed with Secretary DeVos’s proposed cuts and has increased the budget for OCR three consecutive years. While Congress should continue this trend, it is ultimately OCR’s duty to maximize its resources to protect the civil rights of the students it serves. If the changes made to the CPM are any indication, OCR is neglecting this responsibility and abdicating its own mission.

*Max Lesko served as the Chief of Staff at the Department of Education, Office for Civil Rights from 2015-2017. Previously he served in the Office of the White House Counsel and Presidential Personnel Office at the White House. Max received his J.D. from Georgetown University Law Center. Max currently works at the Children’s Defense Fund.

Cutting Federal Common Law Off at the Stem in Jesner v. Arab Bank

Last week, the Supreme Court issued its long-awaited opinion in Jesner v. Arab Bank, a case that many feared might sound the death knell for U.S.-based human rights litigation by foreclosing on the Alien Tort Statute (ATS) and related federal common law claims for international law violations. Ultimately, the Court only declined to recognize claims against foreign corporations, a narrower holding than some had feared. Underlying the fractured majority’s opinion, however, is a logic that bodes poorly for any future expansion of the federal common law into areas related to foreign relations and national security.

At issue in Jesner are the civil claims of approximately 6,000 foreign nationals injured in attacks by various Palestinian terrorist groups. Each ultimately sued Arab Bank—a major Jordanian financial institution—for providing the perpetrators of these attacks with financial services, including some that were routed through Arab Bank’s New York branch. The specific question before the Court was whether the ATS, which gives federal courts “original jurisdiction o[ver] any civil action by an alien for a tort only, committed in violation of the law of nations or a treaty of the United States” could serve as the legal basis for their lawsuit against the Arab Bank. The appellate court affirmed the district court’s dismissal of the plaintiffs’ claims on the grounds that the ATS could only be used to sue individuals, not corporations. The plaintiffs then appealed to the Supreme Court.

Originally enacted into law as part of the Judiciary Act of 1789, the ATS was overlooked for much of its early history but experienced a renaissance in the 1970s when litigants began to successfully use it to hold the perpetrators of overseas human rights abuses liable in U.S. courts. Congress facilitated this effort in 1992 by enacting the Torture Victim Protection Act(TVPA), which supplemented the ATS by explicitly authorizing victims of torture and extrajudicial killing to pursue such claims, subject to certain limitations. Yet the Supreme Court has remained skeptical of recognizing new types of civil claims under the ATS without similar statutory authorization. In its 2004 decision in Sosa v. Alvarez-Machain, the Court held that the ATS was only intended to “furnish jurisdiction for a relatively modest set of actions alleging violations of the law of nations” recognized separately under federal common law—namely offenses against ambassadors, violations of safe conduct, and piracy—and barred federal courts from recognizing other common law claims for international law violations “with less definite concept and acceptance among civilized nations than the[se] historical paradigms”. The Court further limited the ATS’s scope in 2013, holding in Kiobel v. Royal Dutch Petroleum that ATS claims had to “touch and concern the territory of the United States” with “sufficient force to displace the presumption against extraterritorial application” typically applied to statutes.

For observers who expected the Court to continue this narrowing trend in Jesner, the opinion for the Court’s slim 5-4 majority—authored by Justice Kennedy—did not disappoint. Yet Kennedy was only joined in full by Chief Justice Roberts and Justice Thomas, leaving the fractured Court’s views on the true limits of the ATS—particularly in the light of the strong dissent authored by Justice Sotomayor and joined by the Court’s three other “liberal” justices—somewhat difficult to discern.

The portion of Justice Kennedy’s opinion that garnered majority support relies on two basic assertions. First, that the Court has in recent decades resisted recognizing new categories of claims—whether as a matter of federal common law or by implication from a broadly worded statute—where not clearly authorized by statute, reflecting the Court’s view that Congress and the executive branch are in a better position to weigh the risks and benefits that private litigation can entail. (This has included the extension of such liability to corporate defendants.) Second, that liability under the ATS—both generally and in relation to foreign corporations specifically—has proven to be a source of significant international friction, running counter to the ATS’s intended purpose of promoting international harmony and implicating foreign policy judgments that the courts are particularly ill-suited to make. In Justice Kennedy’s view, these factors implicate Sosa’s admonition that, even where an international law principle is well-defined and widely accepted, the risk of “adverse foreign policy consequences” means that crafting new common law remedies for it “should be undertaken, if at all, with great caution.” On these grounds, the majority holds that “absent further action from Congress it would be inappropriate for courts to extend ATS liability to foreign corporations.”

Other parts of Justice Kennedy’s opinion hint at a willingness to go further, specifically by limiting ATS liability for all corporations. Yet Justices Alito and Gorsuch decline to join these parts. Instead, in separate concurrences—each of which Justice Thomas endorses in part but does not join—they offer narrow alternate interpretations of the ATS and emphasize foreign relations-related separation of powers concerns that they believe should bring Sosa’s willingness to recognize new categories of ATS claims into question. This focus keeps the majority from addressing possible ATS claims against U.S. corporations, but the more categorical skepticism that Alito and Gorsuch share towards expanded—and particularly foreign—ATS claims nonetheless influences the majority’s approach.

Justice Sotomayor’s sharp dissent helps to demonstrate this by systematically addressing the arguments raised by the five justices in the majority. Her most powerful point relates to Justice Kennedy’s repeated assertions that the Court should defer to the political branches in light of foreign policy concerns. She agrees wholeheartedly, but then notes that the Solicitor General’s amicus brief—like the one filed by certain members of Congress—actually opposes foreclosing corporate liability in Jesner. Further, his representative stated at oral argumentthat ATS litigation against foreign corporations may actually be useful in aspects of U.S. foreign relations. While the Solicitor General recognizes that foreign corporate liability under the ATS can raise foreign relations concerns—including in the present case, where Arab Bank’s collapse under the weight of its substantial liability could trigger regional instability—he endorses addressing that risk through “tool[s] more tailored to the source of the problem than a blanket ban[,]” in Justice Sotomayor’s words. Specifically, he urges the Court to remand the matter back to the lower courts so they can evaluate whether it actually satisfies Kiobel’s extraterritoriality standard—the same disposition that the dissent ultimately endorses. By instead taking a different tack, Sotomayor implies, the majority is not deferring to the other branches but pursuing its own agenda.

That agenda reflects what appears to be the true common denominator of logic underlying the majority’s holding: a general skepticism—for both constitutional and prudential reasons—about whether judicially-crafted remedies should play any role in policy areas related to foreign relations or national security. Though Kennedy often discusses this skepticism in terms of deference, it manifests as something far closer to a clear statement rule, requiring unequivocal congressional authorization for types of claims not already established in precedent. The majority’s willingness to override the executive branch’s views on the usefulness of foreign corporate liability—even where it assumes the underlying international law violation is clearly established and widely recognized—underscores the extent to which its concerns weigh against recognition absent such authorization and are likely to be determinative. Indeed, Kennedy all-but-recognizes this when he notes that, “[i]n light of the foreign-policy and separation-of-power concerns inherent in ATS litigation, there is an argument that a proper application of Sosa would preclude courts from ever recognizing any new causes of action under the ATS.” The majority declines to go quite so far explicitly in its holding, but the methodology it applies seems no less likely to produce this outcome.

In this sense, Jesner is perhaps best seen as a fellow traveler to Justice Kennedy’s 2017 opinion in Ziglar v. Abbasi, which similarly rejected new common law Bivens remedies for national security-related federal constitutional violations by narrowly distinguishing them from their predecessors and citing separation-of-powers and national security concerns. While Jesner does not have to draw such distinctions as narrowly as Abbasi and neither explicitly forecloses new categories of claims, both embrace a demanding methodology that all but does so. Like in Jesner, the dissent in Abbasi—authored by Justice Breyer—urged more tailored remedies to address these concerns. There as here, however, the majority proved less inclined to prune the doctrine’s edges than to cut it down closer to the root.

What will this mean in practice? That will depend in part on how the lower courts and prospective litigants react. While it forecloses foreign corporate liability, the broad and subjective nature of the test applied in Jesner may still leave some space for ATS-related innovation in the lower courts, especially if Jesner’s narrow margins—a fractured 5-4 majority, with a unified minority—make some judges more willing to push the envelope. Yet so long as the current majority remains in place and committed to applying the high thresholds evident in Jesner, such innovations are likely to face eventual problems on appeal. Over time, the repeated application of the logic in Jesner and Abbasi will likely be an effective halt to the growth of federal common law remedies in foreign relations and national security spaces, whether pursued under Bivens, the ATS, or some other vehicle. Indeed, this same logic may even bode poorly for litigants pursuing novel claims based on certain broadly worded statutes.

Some have posited that advocates need to pivot from strategic litigation to popular mobilization in response to these new limitations, pushing Congress to enact statutes that unequivocally address their concerns instead of relying on novel legal arguments under less well-defined authorities. And this is certainly the route forward that the majority appears to envision. Yet the road to such legislation is likely to be difficult, especially for prospective plaintiffs from insular or disenfranchised groups poorly positioned to persuade Congress to take up their interests, such as unlawful immigrants subjected to discrimination and abuse (like the plaintiffs in Abbasi) and foreign national victims of human rights abuses (like the plaintiffs in Jesner). As he did in Abbasi, Justice Kennedy also points to other possible remedies, including criminal and civil provisions relating to genocide and slavery and the lingering possibility of ATS claims against individual corporate employees, despite the majority’s clear reservations. But this elides the array of practical difficulties such litigation is likely to encounter. Instead, for the majority of individuals affected, the most likely outcome appears to be that the Court’s restrictions on the expansion of federal common law will mean no remedy whatsoever.

EPA Proposes to Undermine Public Health by Controlling Information

Last week, EPA Administrator Scott Pruitt announced plans to adopt a new rule that would severely limit the types of information that EPA may consider in designing rules to protect public health and the environment. If this proposal becomes final, it will require the agency to turn a blind eye to many scientific studies and other evidence of the effects of pollution. The rule is widely opposed by the scientific community. It may well be unlawful because it would prevent EPA from considering the best available science. It is also part of a broader, surreptitious, and profoundly misguided effort to undermine federal law by controlling information.

The current attack on information is best understood as a new front in the longstanding Republican war on our nation’s landmark environmental and public health laws. When Congress enacted those laws in the 1960s and 1970s, they enjoyed broad support among the American public and political leaders from both parties. A significant majority of the public—almost 60% of respondents a 2018 Gallup Poll—continues to prioritize environmental protection over unconstrained economic growth.

For decades, however, the Republican political establishment has sought to weaken or outright repeal those laws and the regulations that implement them. The Trump Administration has scored a series of victories on this front, dismantling environmental and health protections at an unprecedented rate. The EPA’s website lists 24 “deregulatory actions” it has completed since President Trump’s inauguration and another 41 under development.

Administrator Pruitt’s current proposal, however, is part of a different and more subversive strategy to control and conceal information as an indirect means of eroding legal protections. Laws and regulations require information to function; controlling the flow of information to government regulators can achieve the practical effect of eviscerating legal protections without debating their merits. Imagine a world in which the police were prohibited from talking to the victims of theft. While thievery would remain formally illegal, thieves could act with impunity because they would never face prosecution. Similarly, the Clean Air Act’s requirement that EPA establish air quality standards to protect public health loses its meaning if EPA cannot consider research linking air pollution to public health problems.

The current proposal would restrict the science that EPA can consider in making “significant regulatory decisions,” such as establishing air quality standards or requiring industries to use pollution control technologies. Tellingly, the proposal would not apply to other actions, like permitting decisions, that benefit industry. In the covered rulemaking processes, the proposal would create a litmus test for what science counts. EPA could only consider research where the researchers make their underlying data “publicly available in a manner sufficient for independent validation.”

To a lay audience, that proposal may superficially appear to promote transparency. Its effect, however, would be truly radical, because it would exclude a broad swath of well-substantiated information (including peer-reviewed scientific studies), because researchers often promise to keep the personal health information of the people involved in their studies confidential. Moreover, as a letter sent to Administrator Pruitt by 985 scientists explains, “many public health studies cannot be replicated, as doing so would require intentionally and unethically exposing people and the environment to harmful contaminants or recreating one-time events.”

This proposal to keep science away from EPA is just one manifestation of the broader Republican strategy to suppress information for the purpose of undermining protections for human health and the environment, without appearing to do so. EPA and other federal agencies have sought to limit qualified scientists’ participation on advisory boards, and to sideline the boards themselves. Some states have also taken part in this strategy, taking radical steps to create criminal and civil laws to prevent citizens from collecting truthful information about environmental conditions and animal abuse, and to bar government agencies from considering such information. And recently, a local prosecutor criminally charged for “witness tampering” when she wrote to a federal agency and asked it to investigate potentially illegal activities on public lands.

When citizen scientists are branded as criminals, and state and federal agencies turn a blind eye to information about illegal conditions, then the laws prohibiting the abuse of animals, contamination of waterways, killing of endangered species, and the like become toothless. And suppressing information about public health risks and illegal conditions conceals the continuing need for those laws in the first place.

I am deeply opposed to the Trump Administration’s efforts to eliminate regulations protecting human health and the environment. But at least such efforts are honest about their goals, thereby permitting the public to hold our elected officials politically accountable. Efforts like Administrator Pruitt’s current proposal to subvert policy by controlling information are nefarious. They smack of the totalitarian Big Brother envisioned by George Orwell and have no place in our democracy.

*Justin Pidot is an Associate Professor at the University of Denver Sturm College of Law. He previously served as the Deputy Solicitor for Land Resources at the U.S. Department of the Interior during the Obama Administration and as an appellate lawyer in the Environmental and Natural Resources Division of the U.S. Department of Justice 

Standing for Justice: Defending Access to the Courts

The accessibility and independence of a strong judiciary is critical to empowering the people to hold their government and powerful private interests accountable. But our court system is under attack now as never before.

Since January 2017, Congress has introduced more than 50 bills that in one way or another aim to strip people of the right to hold the government and special interests accountable in court.  What’s more, we’ve seen the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) and Department of Justice (DOJ) adopt policies that mirror some of these shameful legislative efforts.

Earthjustice recently released a report that examines actions of the Trump administration and Congress that threaten people’s ability to have their day in court. These dangerous policies, which are being pursued at the behest of wealthy corporations and ideological extremists, seek to diminish the role of the courts in securing important public protections for individuals, workers, families, communities, and the environment, with particularly profound implications for already marginalized groups.

The UN Development Programme has recognized that “The rule of law, and access to justice are … fundamental pillars for the protection, empowerment and dignity of all people and for ensuring equality of opportunity.” Indeed, without an accessible and independent court system, critical policy decisions are more likely to be driven by powerful special interests, untethered to the rule of law. Without the courts, the power asymmetry between ordinary people and wealthy corporations is often determinative of policy outcomes. With corporate spending on elections and lobbying now at unprecedented levels, an erosion of access to the courts could be devastating to our representative democracy.

The courts, while imperfect (like every human institution), pursue an ideal where the law—not wealth and power—matters most. And the courts have often proven themselves a forum in which the playing field can be nearly leveled. When the courts are truly independent, and accessible, they are capable of functioning as a positive force for justice and social change.

All we have to do is think about cases like Brown v. Board of education, ending school desegregation, Loving v. Virginia, ending bans on interracial marriage, Roe v. Wade ending criminal bans on abortion, or Obergefell v. Hodges, ending bans on marriage for same-sex couples to begin to appreciate the vital role of the courts in our society.

In the U.S., the role of the courts in ensuring fidelity to our environmental laws, in particular, has been essential. Few of our most important environmental and public health protections—including those aimed at cleaning up the air we breathe, the water we drink, and the spaces we use to play, learn and work—would have much meaning today without the courts. At almost every turn, powerful corporate interests attempted to use the political system, at the federal and state level, to undermine these laws. And at almost every turn, public interest advocates (including communities, states, and nonprofit organizations) were able to make their case in court to uphold the law.

A similar dynamic has played out with regard to civil rights, gender equality, reproductive rights, consumer protection, immigrant rights, worker protections, disability rights, and more. Again and again, the courts have played a crucial role; a role that has been especially important for those communities that already suffer the most, who already carry the heaviest burdens in our society.

Continued and unobstructed access to the courts remains vital to ensure we are a nation governed by the rule of law, not the almighty dollar.

So, what are the threats that we now face?  How are we in danger of being alienated from our court system?

Congress and the Trump administration are attempting to limit or eliminate access in five key ways.  By:

  • Making courts off limits with what we refer to as “no judicial review clauses,” clauses built into federal law that essentially preclude courts from scrutinizing government decision-making;
  • Eliminating individuals’ right to sue in two important ways: first, by expanding the use of forced arbitration—that is, allowing corporations to keep cases out of the courts by forcing people into private arbitration tribunals; and second, by restricting people’s ability to bring class action lawsuits;
  • Making public interest litigation too risky or too expensive to pursue, for example, by saddling plaintiffs with prohibitively high costs;
  • Interfering with judges’ discretion to issue certain types of remedies and thereby limiting the power of the court to effectively redress injuries; and finally,
  • Undermining the government’s ability to reach timely and meaningful settlements.

These dangerous efforts are reflected in more than 50 individual legislative and administrative proposals. This array of policies would impose real hardship on real people, especially those most vulnerable among us. It would fundamentally weaken our democracy, and it would move the U.S. further from the ideal of a society that fully respects the dignity of all its people. These efforts are an affront to American principles of fairness and justice, and we should all stand up in opposition.