The myth of authorship and the rise of a new artistic culture

As I’ve pointed out previously, my colleague and friend Martha Woodmansee’s scholarship is fundamental to the reexamination of the historical bases of our present conceptions of “authorship”:

An “author” in the modern sense is the creator of unique literary, or artistic, “works” the originality of which warrants their protection under laws of intellectual property — Anglo American “copyright” and European “authors’ rights.”

Now Abram Sinnreich, in Mashed Up: Music, Technology, and the Rise of Configurable Culture, extends these insights into the quirks that have produced our notion of authorship and the ways the radical changes in the technological realities governing the creation and distribution of artistic works is undermines that notion. truthdig has posted a substantial excerpt, the entirety of which (like the book, no doubt) is well worth reading. Here’s just a taste, one that begins to develop the relationship between the current conventional wisdom of what an author is and its relationship to our social obsession with converting public goods into private property:

The biggest myth of all is the Romantic notion that artists somehow create their work uniquely and from scratch, that paintings and sculptures and songs emerge fully-formed from their fertile minds like Athena sprang from Zeus. Running a close second is the myth that only a handful of us possess the raw talent – or the genius – to be an artist. According to this myth, the vast majority of us may be able to appreciate art to some degree, but we will never have what it takes to make it. The third myth is that an artist’s success (posthumous though it may be) is proof positive of his worthiness, that the marketplace for art and music functions as some kind of aesthetic meritocracy.

Of course, these myths fly in the face of our everyday experience. We know rationally that Picasso’s cubism looks a lot like Braque’s, and that Michael Jackson sounds a lot like James Brown at 45 RPM. We doodle and sing and dance our way through our days, improvising and embellishing the mundane aspects of our existence with countless unheralded acts of creativity. And we all know that American Idol and its ilk are total B.S. (very entertaining B.S., of course!). Each of us can number among our acquaintance wonderful singers, dancers, painters or writers whose creations rival or outstrip those of their famous counterparts, just as each of us knows at least one beauty who puts the faces on the covers of glossy magazines to shame.

And yet, we believe the myths. How could we not? Who among us has the time, the energy, or even the motivation to buck the overwhelming support the myth of the Artist receives from the institutions that govern our society – to dispute our schools, our churches, even our laws? What is copyright, after all, but the legal assertion of an individual’s sole ownership over a unique artifact of creative expression? These laws, sometimes enforced at gunpoint, require us to believe the myths, or face the consequences.

Of course, there’s a reason the myths exist. Our economy runs on the privatization of hitherto public goods. Our legal system is premised on the individual as the locus of all rights, all liability, all blame. Our society’s profound inequalities are only acceptable because we believe ourselves to live in a meritocracy, a world where a person’s success is de facto proof of his or her inherent worthiness. In short, the myth of the Artist-with-a-capital-A allows us to believe in America-with-a-capital-A.

The ADL forgets things that we should never forget.

I share wholeheartedly Paul Krugman’s “shock” at the Anti-Defamation League’s opposition to the construction of a mosque near Ground Zero. The temple I grew up as a member of and at which my older son and I each were bar mitzvahed has a long history, exemplified by Rabbi Arthur Lelyveld, in the fight for civil rights and interfaith relations. Even more to the point, however, the temple’s present building was completed in 1957, but only after a bitter lawsuit against the City of Beachwood that required the temple to go all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court. The litigation was over zoning matters, but you’re quite naive if you think the opposition was motivated by zoning concerns.

Making creations property does not promote creation: fashion this time

It’s difficult in this era in which “property” is considered the source of liberty for people to get their heads around the idea that treating the products of creativity as part of a “cultural commons” is in fact more conducive to creativity and innovation than is strict copyright protection. Here’s some strong evidence of exactly that:

There is no copyright protection afforded to fashion designs. As a result copying is a matter of course in fashion design. You don’t exactly see a dearth of creativity and innovation in fashion design, do you?  In the video below, Johanna Blakely expands on this point. Of course, fashion designers are seeking federal legislation extending copyright protection to their designs. I hate it when ideology (here, that without the worship of “property” our way of life is doomed) trumps reality.

Property is not always the foundation of liberty: fashion and copyright.

It’s difficult in this era in which “property” is considered the source of liberty for people to get their heads around the idea that treating the products of creativity as part of a “cultural commons” is in fact more conducive to creativity and innovation than is strict copyright protection. Here’s some strong evidence of exactly that:

There is no copyright protection afforded to fashion designs. As a result copying is a matter of course in fashion design. You don’t exactly see a dearth of creativity and innovation in fashion design, do you?  Here, Johanna Blakely expands on this point:

And yet, of course, fashion designers are seeking federal legislation extending copyright protection to their designs. I hate it when ideology (here, that without the worship of “property” our way of life is doomed) trumps reality.

David Souter gives a lesson in judging and the failures of Originalism.

Former Supreme Court Justice David Souter recently gave the commencement address at Harvard. In doing so, he set forth clearly and in ways anyone can understand why it is ridiculous to suggest that interpretation of the Constitution merely requires a judge to engage in a “straightforward exercise of reading fairly and viewing facts objectively.” He makes clear that, in his words, such a simplistic view “has only a tenuous connection to reality.” In doing so, he answers “criticism that the court is making up the law, that the court is announcing constitutional rules that cannot be found in the Constitution, and that the court is engaging in activism to extend civil liberties.”

The entire speech is worth reading for anyone interested in a high-level lesson in constitutional analysis given in clear, straightforward prose. I will try here to touch on a few of its highlights.

First, Souter points out that many of the Constitution’ guarantees are phrased in such open-ended language that they necessarily will require a large degree of interpretive work to determine their application to new facts in new times: ‘The Constitution has a good share of deliberately open-ended guarantees, like rights to due process of law, equal protection of the law, and freedom from unreasonable searches.” He contrasts these provisions to provisions that provide bright lines that make decision easy — provisions such as the requirement that Senators be 30 years old.

But, as he makes clear, pointing out that determining, for example, whether a given governmental action satisfies the requirement of “due process” “hardly scratches the surface” of constitutional judging. First, provisions may be clear and yet any consideration of their real implications makes obvious that they cannot be applied literally. Second, as I’ve pointed out before (in discussing why “empathy” plays a far greater part in judging than implied those who would suggest empathy is merely soft-heartedness), determining which facts are more or less significant makes all the difference in the world of a judge:

The reasons that constitutional judging is not a mere combination of fair reading and simple facts extend way beyond the recognition that constitutions have to have a lot of general language in order to be useful over long stretches of time. Another reason is that the Constitution contains values that may well exist in tension with each other, not in harmony. Yet another reason is that the facts that determine whether a constitutional provision applies may be very different from facts like a person’s age or the amount of the grocery bill; constitutional facts may require judges to understand the meaning that the facts may bear before the judges can figure out what to make of them.

To make these points, Souter uses two examples. The first was the Pentagon Papers case, in which the “New York Times and the Washington Post had each obtained copies of classified documents prepared and compiled by government officials responsible for conducting the Vietnam War. The newspapers intended to publish some of those documents, and the government sought a court order forbidding the publication.” While the Court ruled that the newspapers had the right under the First Amendment to publish the Pentagon Papers, it did not do so on the simple basis that the First Amendment provides that “Congress shall make no law … abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press.” (emphasis added.) Instead, the Court adopted the interpretation advanced by Irwin Griswold, who responded to the suggestion by Justice Black that the case was a simple one of applying the rule that “no law” means “no law” with the argument that it was not so simple:

Now Mr. Justice, your construction of that is well-known, and I certainly respect it. You say that no law means no law, and that should be obvious. I can only say, Mr. Justice, that to me it is equally obvious that “no law” does not mean “no law,” and I would seek to persuade the Court that that is true.

Thus, the [C]ourt’s majority decided only that the government had not met a high burden of showing facts that could justify a prior restraint, and particular members of the court spoke of examples that might have turned the case around, to go the other way. Threatened publication of something like the D-Day invasion plans could have been enjoined; Justice Brennan mentioned a publication that would risk a nuclear holocaust in peacetime.”

How can it be that “no law” does not mean “no law”? Isn’t that kind of “interpretation” exactly the kind of thing that gives judges a bad name? As Souter makes clear, it is nothing of the sort; it’s the reason we consider judging an activity requiring the utmost in wisdom, intelligence, and experience. The First Amendment guarantee of freedom of the press cannot possibly be absolute because the Constitution provides for a plethora of other individual rights and governmental obligations, no one of which is entirely consistent with the other. As the examples above illustrate, we also have to account for the constitutional authority of the President to provide for national security . As anyone who has considered matters of individual liberty at any depth know, individual liberty is often necessarily at odds with equality. Yet the Constitution guarantees both individual liberty and equality. As Souter explains, an interpretation based on merely believing “no law” in the First Amendment means “no law”

fails because the Constitution has to be read as a whole, and when it is, other values crop up in potential conflict with an unfettered right to publish, the value of security for the nation and the value of the president’s authority in matters foreign and military. The explicit terms of the Constitution, in other words, can create a conflict of approved values, and the explicit terms of the Constitution do not resolve that conflict when it arises. The guarantee of the right to publish is unconditional in its terms, and in its terms the power of the government to govern is plenary. A choice may have to be made, not because language is vague but because the Constitution embodies the desire of the American people, like most people, to have things both ways. We want order and security, and we want liberty. And we want not only liberty but equality as well. These paired desires of ours can clash, and when they do a court is forced to choose between them, between one constitutional good and another one. The court has to decide which of our approved desires has the better claim, right here, right now, and a court has to do more than read fairly when it makes this kind of choice. And choices like the ones that the justices envisioned in the Papers case make up much of what we call law.

Souter’s second example is The Supreme Court’s decision in 1954 in Brown v. Board of Education, in which the Court unanimously held that racial segregation in public schools imposed violated the Constitution’s guarantee of equal protection of the law. As Souter explains, “Brown ended the era of separate-but-equal, whose paradigm was the decision in 1896 of the case called Plessy v. Ferguson, where the Supreme Court had held it was no violation of the equal protection guarantee to require black people to ride in a separate railroad car that was physically equal to the car for whites.”

Souter, significantly, thinks that best explanation for the differences in the results between Plessy and Brown is an explanation that is forbidden to those who would believe the Constitution means now what it did in 1789 and must always mean what it meant in 1789: “the difference between the cases is the dates they were decided.”

How can this be so? It is because the significance of facts differ from judge to judge, and, of course, the significance of facts differs over time. What seemed equal treatment of the races in 1896 — when the contrast was to the recent legality of slavery — no longer seemed equal in 1954, and it would be folly to suggest otherwise:

[T]he generation in power in 1954 looked at enforced separation without the revolting background of slavery to make it look unexceptional by contrast. As a consequence, the judges of 1954 found a meaning in segregating the races by law that the majority of their predecessors in 1896 did not see. That meaning is not captured by descriptions of physically identical schools or physically identical railroad cars. The meaning of facts arises elsewhere, and its judicial perception turns on the experience of the judges, and on their ability to think from a point of view different from their own. Meaning comes from the capacity to see what is not in some simple, objective sense there on the printed page. And when the judges in 1954 read the record of enforced segregation it carried only one possible meaning: It expressed a judgment of inherent inferiority on the part of the minority race. The judges who understood the meaning that was apparent in 1954 would have violated their oaths to uphold the Constitution if they had not held the segregation mandate unconstitutional.

As Souter so succinctly puts the matter: “So much for the assumption that facts just lie there waiting for an objective judge to view them.” And so much for the contention by John Roberts that judging is merely a matter of “calling balls and strikes.” As Souter says, such a simplistic view of what judges do “fails to account for what the Constitution actually says, and it fails just as badly to understand what judges have no choice but to do.” “Judges have to choose between the good things that the Constitution approves, and when they do, they have to choose, not on the basis of measurement, but of meaning.”

Most fundamentally, Souter sees the contrast between his view of the Constitution and the view of those who would have it that judging his way means that he is making it up along the way to evade the plain language of the law as the contrast between those who would impose certainty in a world where there is no certainty. Most importantly, Souter believes that, in the face of uncertainty, we fulfill our national aspirations best by applying reason and judgment to the application of the principles that our nation was established to uphold:

Where I suspect [I] differ most fundamentally[from the those who would apply a simple, literal meaning to constitutional language] is in my belief that in an indeterminate world I cannot control, it is still possible to live fully in the trust that a way will be found leading through the uncertain future. And to me, the future of the Constitution as the Framers wrote it can be staked only upon that same trust. If we cannot share every intellectual assumption that formed the minds of those who framed the charter, we can still address the constitutional uncertainties the way they must have envisioned, by relying on reason, by respecting all the words the Framers wrote, by facing facts, and by seeking to understand their meaning for living people.

That is how a judge lives in a state of trust, and I know of no other way to make good on the aspirations that tell us who we are, and who we mean to be, as the people of the United States.

Is Elena Kagan’s “thin” record of legal scholarship a disqualification for the Supreme Court? Only if you’re a law professor.

My one reservation about Elena Kagan as a Supreme Court justice has been her extensive experience in legal academia. As readers of this blog know, the disconnect between law professors and law practice is a matter of grave concern to me. I do not understand why the great mass of legal academics consider legal practitioners lesser beings who really don’t belong in law schools and, if they are there, certainly don’t deserve the same status that the pure “scholars” do.

But now I can rest easy — law professors don’t consider Kagan one of them. Why? Because she’s practiced law too much!

Kagan taught at the University of Chicago Law School before going to work for the Clinton White House. During her time at Chicago, as the Chicago Tribune reports, “[s]he did publish several articles and won tenure in 1995, and was even chosen by students as teacher of the year. . . . [Se left to join the office of legal counsel in the Clinton White House shortly after that. As fellow West Wing veterans tell it, she quickly became an aide Clinton would pull aside for hallway conversations about his legislative initiatives on the Hill.”

In 1999, she sought to return to Chicago, but was unable to do so because, the law faculty decided not to give her an offer. They rejected her because her talents were as a lawyer and an administrator! We can’t have any of them cluttering up legal faculty:

“She turned out to be truly great at what she did,” said David Strauss, a U. of C. law professor and one of Kagan’s closest friends on the faculty. If things had gone as she’d planned at the time, he said, “maybe she wouldn’t be where she is now.”

The truly perverse thing is that in retrospect the Chicago professors don’t consider what they did a mistake. Rather, they are proud of it. As Richard Epstein — one of the most respected “scholars” in the U.S. — explains that her talents as a lawyer and an administrator don’t qualify her to teach law students:

Her papers were well-done, but they show exactly the same qualities of mind that prevent you from reaching the top ranks in academia. . . She is good at advising people, fixing things, putting programs in place.

I am not suggesting that legal scholars don’t belong on law faculties. I am suggesting that there are talents other than those of legal scholars that do deserve to be on law faculties and deserve equal status and respect. Why would you not want people who are good lawyers teaching law students who are in law school to become lawyers?

But most of all, I’m suggesting that the criticism of Obama’s choice of Kagan on the grounds that she is not sufficiently “scholarly” is a bunch of b.s. Why wouldn’t being a great teacher, a great administrator, and a great lawyer qualify you to  be on the Supreme Court?

A lesson for Rand Paul in the differences between the Constitution and statutory law

In the interview below with Rachel Maddow, Rand Paul is taking the position that got Robert Bork’s nomination to the Supreme Court rejected — that the federal government in the Civil Rights Act of 1964 should not have outlawed private businesses open to the public from discriminating based on race.

Moreover, he is just plain wrong to suggest that the impact of the Civil Rights Act on private businesses is the same as the impact gun rights advocates argue the 2d Amendment to the Constitution should have — Paul says those gun rights activists are arguing that private businesses, including restaurants, do not have the right to ban them from carrying guns inside those businesses.

He’s just plain wrong because the Constitution only bans discrimination based on race by government, and it only protects the right to bear arms against restrictions imposed by the government. It is a statute passed by Congress – the Civil Rights Act of 1964 — that bans private businesses open to the public from discriminating based on race. There is no such statute requiring private businesses to restrict one’s right to bear arms.

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Elena Kagan is no blank slate, and to say otherwise is to spout lies.

Enough already with this myth that Elena Kagan is a blank slate, typified by Michael Gerson: “The most prominent thing about Kagan is her extraordinary ability, while holding high-profile jobs in the legal profession, to say nothing on the major issues of the day.”

As I explained yesterday at some length, there’s good reason to believe Kagan will be forthcoming in her confirmation hearings about precisely what Gerson states it would “be helpful to know”: “her political, legal, and constitutional views.”

But even more importantly, this view that Kagan has been silent on political, legal, and constitutional issues is pure fiction. SCOTUS Blog, in almost 10,000 words, summarizes her career, and includes links to her legal scholarship. Eugene Volokh, no liberal, writes the following:

Kagan was a working scholar from 1991–95, and then 1999–2003. Between those years, she worked in the Clinton Administration; after those years, she was dean at Harvard Law School, a position that these days leaves its holder with very little time to do serious scholarship. In those eight years, she wrote or cowrote four major articles (linked to here), Presidential Administration (Harv. L. Rev. 2001), Chevron’s Nondelegation Doctrine (Harv. L. Rev. 2001, cowritten with David Barron), Private Speech, Public Purpose: The Role of Governmental Motive in First Amendment Doctrine (U. Chi. L. Rev. 1996), The Changing Faces of First Amendment Neutrality: R.A.V. v. St. Paul, Rust v. Sullivan, and the Problem of Content-Based Underinclusion (Sup. Ct. Rev. 1993). She also wrote three shorter but still substantial pieces, When a Speech Code Is a Speech Code: The Stanford Policy and the Theory of Incidental Restraints (U.C. Davis. L. Rev. 1996), Confirmation Messes, Old and New (U. Chi. L. Rev. 1995), and Regulation of Hate Speech and Pornography After R.A.V. (U. Chi. L. Rev. 1993).

Quantitatively, this is quite good output for eight years as a working scholar. It looks a lot smaller if one looks at her career from 1991 to 2009, when she was appointed Solicitor General — but for the reasons I mentioned above, that’s not the right way to look at it.

Moreover, two of her articles have been judged to be quite important by her colleagues. Presidential Administration has been cited 305 times in law journal articles (according to a search of Westlaw’s JLR database) — an extraordinarily high number of citations for any article, especially one that is less than 10 years old. In fact, a HeinOnline list of all articles with more than 100 citations, run in August 2009, reports that her article was at the time the 6th most-cited law review article of all the articles published since 2000. Many legal scholars, even ones working in the relatively high-citation fields of constitutional law and administrative law, have never and will never write an article that is so much cited.

Chevron’s Nondelegation Doctrine has been cited 75 times, a very high number for an article’s first 10 years; I suspect that only a tiny fraction of one percent of all law review articles are cited at such a pace. Private Speech, Public Purpose has been cited 129 times, likewise a very high number. The Changing Faces of First Amendment Neutrality has been cited only 36 times, but that probably stems in large part from the fact that Supreme Court Review articles from that era are not on Westlaw or Lexis (ridiculous, especially for a faculty-edited journal with the Supreme Court Review’s excellent reputation, and likely stemming from a short-sighted non-licensing decision by the University of Chicago Press).

And while some articles might be heavily cited because they fit with academic ideological fashions, I don’t think these would qualify.

Blank slate, my ass.

My favorite part of her writing is her may be her reminiscence of Justice Thurgood Marshall, for whom she clerked. It might be less in the scholarly mode, but it is perhaps as revealing as anything about what she would be like as a judge:

Justice Marshall thought all lawyers (and certainly all judges) should be reminded . . .  that behind law there are stories-stories of people’s lives as shaped by law, stories of people’s lives as might be changed by law. Justice Marshall had little use for law as abstraction, divorced from social reality (he muttered under his breath for days about Judge Bork’s remark that he wished to serve on the Court because the experience would be “an intellectual feast”); his stories kept us focused on law as a source of human well-being.

That this focus made the Justice no less a “lawyer’s lawyer” should be obvious; indeed, I think, quite the opposite. I knew, of course, before I became his clerk that Justice Marshall had been the most important-and probably the greatest-lawyer of the twentieth century. I knew that he had shaped the strategy that led to Brown v. Board of Education and other landmark civil rights cases; that he had achieved great renown (indeed, legendary status) as a trial lawyer; that he had won twenty-nine of the thirty-two cases he argued before the Supreme Court. But in my year of clerking, I think I saw what had made him great. Even at the age of eighty, his mind was active and acute, and he was an almost instant study.

Above all, though, he had the great lawyer’s talent (a talent many judges do not possess) for pinpointing a case’s critical fact or core issue. That trait, I think, resulted from his understanding of the pragmatic-of the way in which law worked in practice as well as on the books, of the way in which law acted on people’s lives. If a clerk wished for a year of spinning ever more refined (and ever less plausible) law-school hypotheticals, she might wish for a clerkship other than Justice Marshall’s. If she thought it more important for a Justice to understand what was truly going on in a case and to respond to those realities, she belonged in Justice Marshall’s chambers.

None of this meant that notions of equity governed Justice Marshall’s vote in every case; indeed, he could become quite the formalist at times. During the Term I clerked, the Court heard argument in Torres v. Oakland Scavenger Co. There, a number of Hispanic employees had brought suit alleging employment discrimination. The district court dismissed the suit, and the employees’ lawyer filed a notice of appeal. The lawyer’s secretary, however, inadvertently omitted the name of one plaintiff from the notice. The question for the Court was whether the appellate court had jurisdiction over the party whose name had been omitted; on this question rode the continued existence of the employee’s discrimination claim. My co-clerks and I pleaded with Justice Marshall to vote (as Justice Brennan eventually did) that the appellate court could exercise jurisdiction. Justice Marshall refused. As always when he disagreed with us, he pointed to the framed judicial commission hanging on his office wall and asked whose name was on it. (Whenever we told Justice Marshall that he “had to” dosomething-join an opinion, say-the Justice would look at us coldly and announce: “There are only two things I have to do-stay black and die.”

A smarter group of clerks might have learned to avoid this unfortunate grammatical construction.) The Justice referred in our conversation to his own years of trying civil rights claims. All you could hope for, he remarked, was that a court didn’t rule against you for illegitimate reasons; you couldn’t hope, and you had no right to expect, that a court would bend the rules in your favor. Indeed, the Justice continued, it was the very existence of rules-along with the judiciary’s felt obligation to adhere to them-that best protected unpopular parties. Contrary to some conservative critiques, Justice Marshall believed devoutly-believed in a near mystical sense-in the rule of law. He had no trouble writing the Torres opinion.

Elena Kagan, For Justice Marshall, 71 Texas L. Rev. 1125, 1127-28 (1993).

Confirmation Hearings for Supreme Court Nominees, Elena Kagan, and the mythical Borking of Robert Bork

During his confirmation hearings, prospective Chief Justice Roberts was questioned intensely about his respect for precedent, particularly in connection with Roe v. Wade. In keeping with the image he plainly intended to project as a true conservative, a non-activist who respects existing institutions, Roberts emphasized his respect for precedent. As I have previously written, Roberts’ purported respect for precedent didn’t prevent him recently from voting for and writing a concurring opinion in support of the Citizens United decision by the Supreme Court, a decision that overturned 100 years of precedent supporting congressional restrictions on corporate campaign contributions.

I bring this up because of how refreshing I find Elena Kagan’s views on the confirmation process. Ever since the rejection of Robert Bork’s nomination by Ronald Reagan, right wingers have defined the verb “to bork” to refer “to the way Democrats savaged Ronald Reagan’s nominee, the Appeals Court judge Robert H. Bork.” As a result, nominees since Bork have been careful to the point of absurdity to avoid revealing their views on their judicial philosophy or on particular judicial precedent.

But can anyone seriously believe that John Roberts would vote to uphold Roe v. Wade despite insisting, in connection with questions about it, on his respect for precedent? In advance of the Court’s decision in Citizen’s United, Jeffery Rosen wrote in the New York Times that Roberts could “support a narrow, restrained campaign finance decision that Republicans and Democrats can embrace, or he can hand down a broad, activist decision that turns our political system upside down.” Rosen expected the former because “when . . . Roberts became chief justice of the United States, he said that he hoped to emulate the modesty and unanimity of his greatest predecessor, John Marshall.”

We now know Roberts was lying.

It is worth keeping in mind, therefore, that  when he was nominated to the Supreme Court, Robert Bork

[P]romised to keep an open mind on the issue of abortion and the right to privacy. Liberal and moderate Democratic and Republican senators did not believe him, and they were right not to. Bork, after he resigned from the federal bench, admitted that he believed Roe v. Wade was wrongly decided and all but explicitly said that had he been on the Supreme Court he would have provided the fifth vote to overturn Roe v. Wade.

Sheldon Goldman, Judicial Confirmation Wars: Ideology and the Battle for the Federal Courts, 39 U. Rich. L. Rev. 871 (2004-2005), citing Robert H. Bork, Coercing Virtue: The Worldwide Rule of Judges at 71 (2003).

It’s worth noting Bork’s precise language in Coercing Virtue regarding Roe v. Wade and a later decision upholding it, Planned Parenthood v. Casey:

It is mind-boggling that citizens were admonished that accept Roe because they”must respect the “rule of law.” Both Roe and Casey are, in fact, crass violations of the rule of law; they are not rooted in any conceivable interpretation of the Constitution, and have nothing to do with “constitutional terms.”

This from the guy who said, in sworn testimony during his confirmation hearings, that he had an “open mind” about the constitutional basis for a right to privacy.

Why was Robert Bork rejected as a nominee to the Supreme Court? It was because his judicial philosophy was so out of tune with what the country expected of a Supreme Court judge in 1987 that the Senate deemed him unacceptable. We could not accept as a Supreme Court judge someone who at the time it mattered — when Congress was considering the legislation — opposed the Civil Rights Acts. We could not accept someone who once wrote passionately that the First Amendment protection of free speech did not extend to art and literature. As reported in 1987:

In 1963 and 1964, as a 36-year-old law professor, Mr. Bork wrote impassioned attacks on legislation to desegregate lunch counters and other public accommodations. He argued that the bill, by invading the liberty of proprietors to turn away blacks, was based on ”a principle of unsurpassed ugliness.” Not until 1973, when seeking Senate confirmation as Solicitor General, did he publicly renounce this view, stated with such unsurpassed surliness.

Even in his latest appearance he declined to revise his pinched view of civil rights. He has criticized some of the Supreme Court’s landmark civil rights decisions for reasons that vary from case to case. The bottom line, however, is almost always the same – unfavorable to minorities.

Free Speech. Repeatedly over the years, Judge Bork has taken a narrow view of the rights of expression. He declared that only the ”core” value of political speech was immune from government restraint. Not until 1984 did he allow as how art and literature might be protected, and then only because they sometimes relate to politics. His conversion, late, is also limited.

Even this limited liberty, in his view, remains utterly at the mercy of the majority when speech becomes advocacy of illegal action. The Court and the mainstream of public opinion have long tolerated strident dissent, reserving punishment for incitement to imminent lawless action. Judge Bork rejects this tradition. Senator Arlen Specter of Pennsylvania extracted from him a ”commitment” to apply settled law rather than his own view. But even such assurances failed to persuade the Judiciary Committee’s ablest questioner, who has decided to oppose the nomination.

So let’s get over this nonsense that Robert Bork was somehow wronged — Robert Bork was denied appointment to the Supreme Court because his judicial views were too far out of step with what the U.S. had come to expect from its Constitution in connection with protection against racial prejudice and restrictions on expression.

What does this have to do with Elena Kagan? Kagan believes that the Senate should explore a nominee’s views, that the confirmation hearings should not continue to be what they have been since the days of Robert Bork — silly, ritual dances that permit the likes of John Roberts to evade completely straight answers to questions that are of central importance to the operation of the Court. As Kagan has written:

The Bork hearings presented to the public a serious discussion of the meaning of the Constitution, the role of the Court, and the views of the nominee; that discussion at once educated the public and allowed it to determine whether the nominee would move the Court in the proper direction. Subsequent hearings have presented to the public a vapid and hollow charade, in which repetition of platitudes has replaced discussion of viewpoints and personal anecdotes have supplanted legal analysis. Such hearings serve little educative function, except perhaps to reinforce lessons of cynicism that citizens often glean from government. Neither can such hearings contribute toward an evaluation of the Court and a determination whether the nominee would make it a better or worse institution. A process so empty may seem ever so tidy–muted, polite, and restrained–but all that good order comes at great cost. And what is worse even than the hearings themselves is a necessary condition of them: the evident belief of many senators that serious substantive inquiry of nominees is usually not only inessential, but illegitimate–that their insistent questioning of Judge Bork was justified, if at all, by his overt “radicalism” and that a similar insistence with respect to other nominees, not so obviously “outside the mainstream,” would be improper. This belief is not so often or so clearly stated; but it underlies all that the Judiciary Committee now does with respect to Supreme Court nominations. It is one reason that senators accede to the evasive answers they now have received from five consecutive nominees. It is one reason that senators emphasize, even in posing questions, that they are asking the nominee only about philosophy and not at all about cases–in effect, inviting the nominee to spout legal theory, but to spurn any demonstration of what that theory might mean in practice. It is one reason that senators often act as if their inquiry were a presumption-as if they, mere politicians, have no right to ask a real lawyer (let alone a real judge) about what the law should look like and how it should work. What has happened is that the Senate . . . has let slip the fundamental lesson of the Bork hearings: the essential rightness–the legitimacy and the desirability–of exploring a Supreme Court nominee’s set of constitutional views and commitments.

Elena Kagan, Confirmation Messes, Old and New, 62 U. Chi. L. Rev. 619, 941-942 (footnotes omitted), reviewing Stephen L. Carter, The Confirmation Mess (1994).

So Kagan doesn’t have much of a paper trail. David Brooks therefore writes that she “is a person whose career has dovetailed with the incentives presented by the confirmation system, a system that punishes creativity and rewards caginess.” Consequently, he finds her “kind of disturbing.” It’s almost funny. Brooks wrote when John Roberts was nominated that

I love thee with the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee because this is the way government is supposed to work. President Bush consulted widely, moved beyond the tokenism of identity politics and selected a nominee based on substance, brains, careful judgment and good character.

What inspired this poetic passion from Brooks? According to Brooks, Roberts “is principled and shares the conservative preference for judicial restraint.” And “[a]nybody who is brilliant during Supreme Court grillings, as Roberts is, will be impressive at confirmation hearings.” Finally, Roberts “has shown that character and substance matter most.”

So Kagan — who has put on the record her belief that Supreme Court nominees should address the issues that will come before the Court — is “disturbing,” but Roberts, who lied about being a conservative consensus builder with a deep respect for precedent has “substance, brains, careful judgment and good character.”

Yeah, right. Here’s my suggestion to all those who think Kagan’s a “blank slate” — why don’t you withhold judgment until the confirmation hearings. Let her answer questions, questions she’s on record stating she thinks are legitimate and should be answered. It’s more than we got from John Roberts.

Kent State 40 years ago, and making up facts to fit today’s world view.

Few things frustrate me in my teaching than my students ignorance of history that predates their adolescence.

Last week, on the 40th anniversary of the Kent State shootings, I wrote about both their impact on me then, and the frightening disconnect I see between current political rhetoric that compares President Obama’s policies to “fascism” and the very different reality of 40 years ago, when National Guard troops really did engage in activity that might genuinely be equated to fascism. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that I was attacked for thinking that calling President Obama a “fascist” seems silly to someone who remembers students being shot dead for protesting the invasion of Cambodia in 1970.

But I genuinely was surprised when in the comments to the post criticizing me another blogger stated that in discussing the Kent State shootings I “neglected” to mention that “the National Guard were shot at first” and that the host of the site in response to that comment wrote: ” Thank you very much for the historical accuracy you add to this issue. You are correct. Mr. Friedman has selective memory.”

The problem, of course, is that this purported “historical accuracy” is pure fantasy. There never has been any evidence that the students at Kent State were armed, much less that they shot at the National Guard. As the Cleveland Plain Dealer reports today, [t]wo trials and a presidential commission’s investigation could not determine what initiated the gunfire, although the presidential commission concluded that ‘the indiscriminate firing of rifles into a crowd of students and the deaths that followed were unnecessary, unwarranted and inexcusable.’” Why is this news now? Because the Plain Dealer reported the following 2 days ago:

The Ohio National Guardsmen who fired on students and antiwar protesters at Kent State University on May 4, 1970 were given an order to prepare to shoot, according to a new analysis of a 40-year-old audio tape of the event.

“Guard!” says a male voice on the recording, which two forensic audio experts enhanced and evaluated at the request of The Plain Dealer. Several seconds pass. Then, “All right, prepare to fire!”

“Get down!” someone shouts urgently, presumably in the crowd. Finally, “Guard! . . . ” followed two seconds later by a long, booming volley of gunshots. The entire spoken sequence lasts 17 seconds.

The previously undetected command could begin to explain the central mystery of the Kent State tragedy – why 28 Guardsmen pivoted in unison atop Blanket Hill, raised their rifles and pistols and fired 67 times, killing four students and wounding nine others in an act that galvanized sentiment against the Vietnam War.

People should know that before they begin spouting off about the policies of an American President they perhaps ought to know a little about history. And they certainly should know better than simply to make up facts that fit their world view.

ADDENDUM:

KENT STATE (trailer) from Mark Mori on Vimeo.

40 years ago (4 dead in Ohio) and today.

40 years ago today (May 4) I was 10 years old, sitting at home, when I heard about something I thought unthinkable that had just happened about 40 miles away from my home. National guard troops had fired on unarmed students at Kent State protesting the Vietnam War, killing 4 and wounding another 9. Nine days later at Jackson State, police killed students and wounded another 12 who were protesting the war and the killings at Kent State.

It was inconceivable to me that unarmed students exercising their First Amendment rights had been shot to death in the United States,  but my childhood was filled with nightmares of that sort. In 1967 I remember driving through parts of Cleveland that were under military occupation as a result of just one U.S. city among hundreds that had had exploded that year and the previous one. And, of course, in 1968, Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy were assassinated in little more than 2 months, disappearing the 2 most prominent voices calling for the U.S. to pull its troops out of Vietnam.

And, of course, we were all at the time convinced of the inevitability of nuclear holocaust.

So I laugh when I hear earnest students of mine who insist that terrorism is the greatest threat this country has ever faced. And when conservatives express the fear that President Obama threatens us with fascism. We should not be fighting wars we can’t win in support of corrupt regimes. And we have huge problems at home:

In 2005, 21.2 percent of U.S. national income accrued to just 1 percent of earners. Contrast 1968, when the CEO of General Motors took home, in pay and benefits, about sixty-six times the amount paid to a typical GM worker. Today the CEO of Wal-Mart earns nine hundred times the wages of his average employee. Indeed, the wealth of the Wal-Mart founder’s family in 2005 was estimated at about the same ($90 billion) as that of the bottom 40 percent of the U.S. population: 120 million people.

But I remember vividly how sad I was on May 4, 1970.

There are a lot of good reasons to be skeptical of evidence, especially of the sort that can be edited and appears to tell stories that are incredible.

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Why the music industry won’t sue certain samplers such as Girl Talk and the producers of Copyright Criminals.

I’ve discussed extensively in the past (most prominently, perhaps, here) my view regarding the music industry’s view that considers any unlicensed sample of a copyrighted recording, no matter how small and how transformed, a copyright infringement. In short, I think it likely the case law on which that view is based would be overturned if it is challenged in any case in which the sampling is used in a way sufficiently transformative that the sampling work stands on its own as a creative work. In short, that’s why I don’ t think Girl Talk has been sued.

Transformative uses of copyrighted work are permitted under the fair use doctrine, and so are critical uses. That’s why I don’t think Kembrew McLeod needs to worry about a lawsuit in connection with the documentary film he co-produced “titled Copyright Criminals, which examines the messy three-way collision between digital technology, musical collage, and intellectual property law.” So why does McLeod worry? Because he’s right in explaining the following:

The music industry believed that the law didn’t distinguish between copying one second or half a minute of a sound recording. Therefore, record companies now insist that every fragment of sound needs to be cleared, something that fundamentally altered the aural evolution of hip-hop music. The more complex you make your sound collage, the more impossible it is to share with the world. And in the course of documenting the legal and cultural history of this art form, Ben [McLeod's co-producer] and I are risking being sued.

But if McLeod is willing to fight a lawsuit — and I think he is — the recording industry won’t sue him. The existing precedents requiring licensing of every single recorded sample would be overturned, and the record industry would lost the appearance created by these precedents, an appearance that makes the vast, vast majority of samplers pay license fees for their samples. It’s better business for the industry to let the occasional brave and creative soul feel as if he’s getting away with something than to have the industry’s precious — and ill-founded — legal precedents put at genuine risk.

The internet and mixing and matching texts is not destroying authorship, and to believe so is to misunderstand authorship. Kakutani this time.

“The Principle of collage is the central principal of all art in the Twentieth Century.” – Donald Barthelme

In a rambling and incoherent diatribe in yesterday’s New York Times, Michiko Kakutani mixes and matches wildly disparate issues and controversies in what purports to be an effort to address “the contentious issues of copyright, intellectual property and plagiarism that have become prominent in a world in which the Internet makes copying and recycling as simple as pressing a couple of buttons.”

While Ms. Kakutani’s piece defies any effort to identify, much less analyze and criticize, any single thesis (or even a manageable number of theses), I cannot leave unchallenged her following contention:

As John Updike pointed out, . . .   ‘the end of authorship’ — hobbling writers’ ability to earn a living from their published works, while at the same time removing a sense of both recognition and accountability from their creations — would result from the hypothetical possibility that “books would cease to be individual works but would be scanned and digitized into one great, big continuous text that could be ‘unraveled into single pages’ or ‘reduced further, into snippets of a page,’ which readers  . . . could then appropriate and remix, like bits of music, into new works of their own.”

As Martha Woodmansee, Peter Jaszi, and others have pointed out, Ms. Kakutani and Mr. Updike’s conceptions of “authorship” are narrow-minded  historical artifacts resulting from the efforts in the 18th Century of book publishers, not authors, to protect their economic interests  and of the conceptions of copyright law that those publishers managed to enact into law and that persist to this day.

The Case Western Reserve English Department’s Authorship Collective, building largely on the work of Professor Woodmansee, summarizes this history as follows:

An “author” in the modern sense is the creator of unique literary, or artistic, “works” the originality of which warrants their protection under laws of intellectual property — Anglo American “copyright” and European “authors’ rights.” This notion is so firmly established that it persists and flourishes even in the face of contrary experience. Experience tells us that our creative practices are largely derivative, generally collective, and increasingly corporate and collaborative. Yet we nevertheless tend to think of genuine authorship as solitary and originary.

This individualistic construction of authorship is a relatively recent invention, the result of a radical reconceptualization of the creative process that culminated less than two centuries ago in the heroic self-presentation of Romantic poets. In the view of poets from Herder and Goethe to Wordsworth and Coleridge genuine authorship is originary in the sense that it results not in a variation, an imitation, or an adaptation, and certainly not in a mere reproduction, but in a new, unique — in a word, “original” — work which, accordingly, may be said to be the property of its creator and to merit the law’s protection as such. [See Martha Woodmansee, “The Genius and the Copyright: Economic and Legal Conditions of the Emergence of the ‘Author’”; rpt. in Woodmansee, The Author, Art, and the Market, 35-55.

With its emphasis on originality and self-declaring creative genius, this notion of authorship has functioned to marginalize or deny the work of many creative people: women, non-Europeans, artists working in traditional forms and genres, and individuals engaged in group or collaborative projects, to name but a few. Exposure of these exclusions — the recovery of marginalized creators and underappreciated forms of creative production — has been a central occupation of cultural studies for several decades. But the same cannot be said for the law. Our intellectual property law evolved alongside of and to a surprising degree in conversation with Romantic literary theory. At the center — indeed, the linchpin — of Anglo-American copyright as well as of European “authors’ rights” is a thoroughly Romantic conception of authorship.  Romantic ideology has also been absorbed by other branches of intellectual property law such as the law of patent and trademark; and it informs the international intellectual property regime. In patent it survives today both in figurations of the inventor and in the emphasis, which this body of law shares with copyright, on the “transformative” moment in the creative process.

We suggested above that cultural production necessarily draws upon previous creative accomplishments. For the better part of human history this derivative aspect of a new work was thought to contribute to, if not virtually to constitute, its value. Writers, like other artisans, considered their task to lie in the reworking of traditional materials according to principles and techniques preserved and handed down to them in rhetoric and poetics — the collective wisdom of their craft. In the event that they chanced to go beyond the state of the art, their innovation was ascribed to God, or later to Providence. Similarly, in the sphere of science, invention and discovery were viewed as essentially incremental — the inevitable outcome of a (collective) effort on the part of many individuals applying inherited methods and principles to the solution of shared problems.

It was not until the eighteenth century, and then chiefly in Western Europe, that an alternative vision of creative activity focusing on the endowments and accomplishments of the individual “genius” began to take shape. In a sharp departure from the self-understanding of writers of previous generations, authors in the new Romantic mode viewed their task as one of transforming the materials of personal sense experience through the operation of their unique, individual genius. This change of emphasis mystified the writing process, obscuring the reliance of these writers on the work of others. The notion that a technological or scientific breakthrough owes its existence to the “genius” — the unique creative abilities — of an individual inventor seems to be even more recent. It appears to date only to the third quarter of the nineteenth century.  Borrowed from literary discourse, this notion similarly obscures the collective or collaborative element in scientific invention and discovery. Both misrepresentations of creative activity appear to have fostered and been fostered by modern intellectual property law. Like copyright, modern patent emphasizes individual achievement — chiefly by rewarding the identification of a single genuinely transformative moment in what in most places through most of human history has been viewed as a collaborative because incremental and continuous process.

Lynn Cheney and William Kristol are anti-American.

Walter Dellinger, a partner with O’Melveney & Myers, and former head of the Office of Legal Counsel, writes today (in relation to my passionate rejection of Lynn Cheney’s attack on lawyers who represented Guantanamo Detainees):

It never occurred to me on the day that Defense Department lawyer Rebecca Snyder and Lt. Cmdr. William Kuebler of the Navy appeared in my law firm’s offices to ask for our assistance in carrying out their duties as military defense lawyers that the young lawyer who worked with me on that matter would be publicly attacked for having done so. And yet this week that lawyer and eight other Justice Department attorneys have been attacked in a video released by a group called Keep America Safe (whose board members include William Kristol and Elizabeth Cheney) for having provided legal assistance to detainees before joining the department. The video questions their loyalty to the United States, asking: “DOJ: Department of Jihad?” and “Who are these government officials? . . . Whose values do they share?”

. . .

That [the lawyers] in question would have their patriotism, loyalty and values attacked by reputable public figures such as Elizabeth Cheney and journalists such as Kristol is as depressing a public episode as I have witnessed in many years. What has become of our civic life in America? The only word that can do justice to the personal attacks on these fine lawyers — and on the integrity of our legal system — is shameful. Shameful.

Requiring licenses for artistic appropriation has nothing to with providing incentives to create.

I’ve been pretty passionate in this blog in expressing my belief that art that appropriates copyrighted work does not infringe the copyrighted work provided the new work stands sufficiently on its own as a creative work. To stand on its own in that way, the new work is one that isn’t attracting an audience merely because of its appropriation of the earlier work. The fact it uses the the copyrighted work to convey meaning through the use of symbols and allusions is no different than the way new, original art has always used the meaning culture attributes to earlier work. Art builds on art.

The counter-argument to my position is that artists need to make money to be able to create art, and if an appropriator can pay for a license, why shouldn’t he? First, merely asking for a license is not the same as obtaining one. Second, the most meaningful pieces of art in our culture are the most successful, and licenses for the use of those works are not likely to be within the financial means of most artists. Third, why should you have to ask for a license to make something new from something someone already has made money from (or as much as their work earned in the market)?

But now Malcolm Gladwell goes right to the heart of the most compelling argument copyright holders have against un-licensed appropriation — that the financial remuneration is an incentive necessary to the creation of art in the first place. Gladwell writes:

Dan Pink is best known for a number of really insightful business books, including “A Whole New Mind.” In “Drive,” he tackles the question of what motivates people to do innovative work, and his jumping-off point is the academic work done over the past few decades that consistently shows that financial rewards hinder creativity. These studies have been around for a while. But Pink follows through on their implications in a way that is provocative and fascinating. The way we structure organizations and innovation, after all, almost always assumes that the prospect of financial reward is the prime human motivator. We think that the more we pay people, the better results we’ll get. But what if that isn’t true? What the research shows, instead, is that the great wellspring of creativity is intrinsic motivation—that is, I do my best work for personal rewards (out of love or intellectual fulfillment) and not external motivation (money).

Maybe you don’t think much of this blog, but I’ve written it now for 18 months and haven’t seen a penny in return. The best writers I know scramble to make their livings through their writing, teaching, parlaying their writing into other creative projects, and whatever else can come their way. I’ve known artists my entire life. I’ve known a few who’ve had vast success, but they are a tiny, tiny minority. The artists I know won’t stop creating if they’re not paid for transformative appropriations of their works.

Article 1, Section 8 of the U.S. Constitution sets for the basis of Congressional power to create laws to protect copyright. It states:

The Congress shall have Power . . . To promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing for limited Times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries; . . . (emphasis added).

It does not state:

The Congress shall have the Power . . . To further the capacity of authors and inventors to extract any and all value that exists in their creations, by securing for a time in excess of the lifetimes of these Authors and Inventors the exclusive right to their respective writings and discoveries; . . .

Thank god for our founding fathers — John Adams, honorable lawyer.

Whose values do the lawyers for Guantanamo detainees share? John Adams’, for one:

John Adams, in his old age, called his defense of British soldiers in 1770 “one of the most gallant, generous, manly, and disinterested actions of my whole life, and one of the best pieces of service I ever rendered my country.” That’s quite a statement, coming as it does from perhaps the most underappreciated great man in American history.

The day after British soldiers mortally wounded five Americans on a cobbled square in Boston, thirty-four-year-old Adams was visted in his office near the stairs of the Town Office by a Boston merchant , James Forest. “With tears streaming from his eyes” (according to the recollection of Adams), Forest asked Adams to defend the soldiers and their captain, Thomas Preston. Adams understood that taking the case would not only subject him to criticism, but might jeopardize his legal practice or even risk the safety of himself and his family. But Adams believed deeply that every person deserved a defense, and he took on the case without hesitation. For his efforts, he would receive the modest sum of eighteen guineas.

So when Lynn Cheney’s group, keepamericasafe.com, suggests that there’s something un-American about the fact that lawyers in the Justice Department have defended Guantanamo detainees, the real question is this: why is keepamericasafe.com spouting the un-American propaganda that those accused of wrongdoing are not entitled to a defense and to requiring proof of their wrongdoing? In fact, as Adam Serwer reports,

Lt. Col. David Frakt, who has represented detainees both in military and civilian courts, said that the lawyers who secured due process rights for detainees were ultimately vindicated. “There is an assumption there that has proven to be a fallacy, which is that everyone at Guantanamo was a terrorist,” Frakt says, pointing to the fact that the government has lost three-quarters of the habeas petitions filed by detainees at Guantanamo. “What we have seen over and over and over is that the vast majority of detainees at Guantanamo are innocent.”

This is, in short, ugly, anti-American propaganda:

When Abortion was Illegal (w/Spanish subtitles)(1992)

Happy Birthday, George, and thank you for the wisdom on torture.

After the Battle of Trenton, as his troops were preparing to run captured British soldiers through the “gauntlet,” Washington ordered them to

Treat them with humanity, and let them have no reason to complain of our copying the brutal example of the British Army in their treatment of our unfortunate brethren who have fallen into their hands.

The consequences of doing otherwise would be dire — to match the crime:

Should any American soldier be so base and infamous as to injure any [prisoner]. . . I do most earnestly enjoin you to bring him to such severe and exemplary punishment as the enormity of the crime may require. Should it extend to death itself, it will not be disproportional to its guilt at such a time and in such a cause… for by such conduct they bring shame, disgrace and ruin to themselves and their country.

Corporations = individuals? Confusions in economic theory and First Amendment jurisprudence

Metaphors are tricky things. Corporations are “persons” under the law in many respects, just as you and I are. And we treat corporations as rational individuals in the market. These figurative equations of legal fictions with human beings certainly have their utility, but they easily can be pushed too far. Individuals at AIG were making individual fortunes based on the income they were bringing into AIG for selling credit default swaps. Those individuals were making and would retain those fortunes even if, as turned out to be the case, AIG might not have sufficient funds to pay off the obligations those credit default swaps imposed on AIG. In other words, if one treated AIG as a rational person, one would suppose AIG would never expose itself to a real risk of obligating itself to pay more than it had in reserve. But AIG is merely a corporation, and the individuals actually making the decisions on behalf of AIG had every incentive to get what they could, subject AIG to irrational risk, and be able to walk away with their tens of millions of dollars.

And now the Supreme Court has overturned over 100 years of precedent permitting limits on corporate contributions to political campaigns because such limits constrained free speech and, according to the truism announced by Justice Kennedy’s majority opinion, ”Speech is an essential mechanism of democracy, for it is the means to hold officials accountable to the people.” But corporations don’t make decisions about how to spend money on campaign contributions — the individuals who control the corporations do. So what the Supreme Court has done is to remove any limits we might put on corporate CEOs to spend corporate money to advance the interests that indubitably are intended to redound to the benefit of those individual CEOs. I wouldn’t limit the ability of CEOs and shareholders to make individual contributions to political campaigns, but why are we treating purely legal entities like they are made of flesh and blood?

As Buzzflash pointed out recently, Thom Hartmann in his book Unequal Protection explains:

Prior to 1886, corporations were referred to in U.S. law as “artificial persons.” but in 1886, after a series of cases brought by lawyers representing the expanding railroad interests, the Supreme Court ruled that corporations were “persons” and entitled to the same rights granted to people under the Bill of Rights. Since this ruling, America has lost the legal structures that allowed for people to control corporate behavior.