Was Kagan forthcoming? So far it seems to depend on whether you thought she’d be.

I suggested about 7 weeks ago that Elena Kagan might be more forthcoming in her confirmation hearings about the substance of her legal views than has any nominee since Robert Bork’s nomination was rejected over 20 years ago. Now that the hearings are complete, my colleague on the Case Western Reserve Law School faculty, Jon Adler, voiced what seems to be the common wisdom iyesterday — Kagan continued in the recent tradition and avoided answering direct questions:

Wednesday’s hearings offered more of the kabuki theater we have come to expect from Supreme Court confirmation hearings. Senate Republicans tried to elicit evidence she would be a doctrinaire liberal on the court, with little success. Peppered with questions on topics from Habeas Corpus and the Commerce Clause to gun rights and gay marriage, Kagan refused to show her hand.

Jeffrey Rosen, however, has what seems to be a very different view, that “[f]ar from turning into a ‘vapid and hollow charade,’ to use Elena Kagan’s now-famous condemnation of other Supreme Court confirmation hearings, her own have been impressively substantive.

Kagan, of course, did refuse to answer any questions regarding how she would rule in pending or future cases. As a lawyer, I would expect nothing else. No responsible legal mind would prejudge a case before allowing the lawyers for the parties to the case present their evidence and arguments to the court. Only law professors think legal questions can and ought to be decided based on the possible circumstances and arguments they can imagine without input from people whose lives will genuinely be affected by the decisions.

As Rosen points out, Kagan was asked about and did answer that she considered certain matters that existing precedent ignores important, no small thing. Thus, for example, Kagan was asked whether the decision in New York Times v. Sullivan, which insulates from liability false statements about public figures unless they are made with knowledge of their falsity, is sufficient in an age of social media and blogging. Kagan first graciously stated that “I think people should be able to write anything they want about me, and I don’t think that I should be able to sue them for libel” (again, no small thing), but then acknowledged that the legal system does have to recognize the reality of harm posed by current media:

Even as we understand the absolute necessity for a kind of New York Times versus Sullivan sort of rule and for protection of speakers from libel suits, defamation suits, even as we understand that, we should also appreciate that people who did nothing to ask for trouble, who didn’t put themselves into the public sphere can be greatly harmed when something goes around the Internet and everybody believes something false about a person. That’s a real harm. And the legal system should not pretend that it’s not.

As a lawyer I respect the nuances she displayed on issues pertaining to gay rights, though it’s plain to me too that people with fixed views on these matters would like her to share their fixed views.

After I have had a bit of time to review the transcript of the hearings, I hope to include my own evaluation of her performance.

Law struggling with changes in material reality: corporate confidentiality this time

I have emphasized again and again the difficulties law faces when there are profound changes in the material reality of our lives, including, for example, demand for new sources of energy. Law is not a set of rules good for all time in all places and all things. It is, rather, an evolving system that tries to do justice in the particular situations it addresses.

The new technologies for copying and disseminating information have of course thrown our legal system into confusion over copyright. Those technologies also are having a profound impact over notions of confidentiality and privacy. Wikileaks is of course in the news in connection with its disclosures of U.S. military secrets, including its release of an Apache helicopter attack in Iraq.

The efforts of a British court to deal with Wikileaks illustrate the difficulties courts often have in applying legal rules that grow out of an era already long past to the new world. Wikileaks’ released of documents from Barclays Bank detailing Barclays’ efforts to use offshore affiliates to evade taxes in Great Britain. A judge ordered the Guardian newspaper, which had published the documents, to take the material down because, he reasoned, the bank had a right to confidentiality.” He also ordered the Guardian not to publish links or other directions for finding the documents on the internet even though they were widely available on sites not based in Great Britain.

As Alan Rusbridger, the editor of the Guardian, explains, the disconnect between the court’s view of confidentiality and the realities of the internet expose a certain degree of absurdity:

The Internet is throwing sharp relief to the illogical nature of our system. Technology is way ahead of the law, and the law is limping along trying to make sense of it.

Professor James Edelman of Oxford believes the court order in connection with the Barclays documents might be the last example of this particular type of confusion, particularly because Barclays may realize that its legal efforts, even if “successful” in getting an order barring publication in the U.K., only serve to publicize the existence of the documents the bank is trying to keep hidden:

“What is significant about the ruling,” he said, “is that it will open people’s eyes that even if you can get an injunction to preserve information that is able to be obtained over the Internet, I suspect that the injunction won’t last.” The publicity over the injunction creates more interest in the material, leading other sites to publish it. The Guardian will be able to return to court, he said, and argue the injunction no longer serves any purpose.

Mr. Rusbridger said that the newspaper still had not decided whether to do that. The cost for being wrong, he said, could be as much $300,000 in legal fees.

Seeming to prove Professor Edelman’s larger point, however, when Wikileaks became overloaded by the traffic about a week ago, another site, techcrunch.org, published the seven memos under the heading “How Barclays Ensured That Everyone Would See Their Confidential Tax Documents.”

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.

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.

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.

Why has Girl Talk not been sued? You won’t find the answer at SXSW.

You might think that the expert-filled session at the SXSW Festival on “Why the Recording Industry Hasn’t Sued Girl Talk?” and the Texas Observer’s reporting on the session might come up with more profound (and unfounded) statements than the Observer’s unqualified declaration that ‘[T]he totally fascinating upshot of all this is that it turns out that what Girl Talk is doing is definitely NOT legal.”

But why should a bunch of critics and experts who feel they’re at the center of the music universe down in Austin Texas put more thought into the issue than that? Any regular reader of this blog (and many less-than-regular readers) know that I have written extensively on why I believe Girl Talk has not been sued. And it’s not because what Girl Talk is doing “is definitely NOT legal.” One might wonder too why the legal and music experts at SXSW think the legal regime that requires a license for any recorded sample, no matter now brief, is as well-founded in the actual law as they seem to assume.

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.

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:

Our capacity to be just is measured by our capacity to do justice to those most in need of it.

The only way to do justice is to provide opportunities for justice. 50 years ago, in Gideon v. Wainwright, the Supreme Court ruled that a criminal defendant has a constitutional right to representation by a lawyer and that, if he cannot afford one, the state must provide him with one. Now, with our states and local governments starving for money, this foundation of our justice system is sorely threatened. Two lawyers whose careers have been devoted to these issues, Virginia Sloan and (my good friend) Cait Clarke, write:

The report of the Constitution Project’s National Right to Counsel Committee, Justice Denied: America’s Continuing Neglect of Our Constitutional Right to Counsel, is the most comprehensive examination of the indigent defense crisis in over 30 years. The Committee, whose members represent every relevant part of the criminal justice system, including prosecutors, judges, victim advocates, defenders, bar leaders, and scholars, unanimously concluded that this country’s indigent defense system is in crisis, that the government has for too long ignored its obligation to provide lawyers in these cases, and that it cannot be ignored anymore. The report outlines 22 urgently-needed recommendations for reform.

One of the most important recommendations is that indigent defense should be provided through an independent, non-partisan authority that appoints qualified, experienced lawyers who have adequate resources. Of equal significance is the recommendation that the federal government assist the states in ensuring that the Sixth Amendment is protected and that poor people have the kind of lawyers to which they are constitutionally entitled. The federal government provides badly-needed funding for law enforcement and prosecutors, but to continue doing so without also providing funding for public defense services simply exacerbates the already untenable situation.

Another recommendation is that the federal government should create a federal office of public defense services to distribute funds, collect data, promulgate standards, and develop and deliver training similar to the federally-supported training for state and local prosecutors. Additionally, the federal government should require all states to abide by national standards for public defense. Adoption of the American Bar Association’s Ten Principles would provide constitutionally adequate legal representation for criminal defendants unable to afford an attorney.

One innovative idea that will improve the quality of representation for indigent defendants is to create a national fellowship program to cultivate and train the next generation of indigent defense lawyers. This would dramatically increase the number and caliber of lawyers working to secure justice for clients and communities. Equal Justice Works, working in partnership with the Southern Public Defender Training Center (SPDTC), is proposing to do just that.

Chief Justice Roberts has no respect for precedent that doesn’t suit his purposes.

One of the less noticed parts of last week’s Citizens United decision by the Supreme Court overturning precedent that had supported over 100 years of congressional restrictions on corporate campaign contributions was precisely the question of the strength of precedent. During his confirmation hearings, prospective Chief Justice Roberts was questioned intensely on the question of his respect for precedent, particularly with respect to Roe v. Wade. In keeping with the image he plainly intended to project of a true conservative, a non-activist who respects existing institutions, Roberts emphasized his respect for precedent.

Thus, it should not be particularly surprising that Roberts wrote a separate concurring opinion in Citizen’s United to supplement his support of Justice Kennedy’s majority opinion. Roberts’ concurrence focused on the need to follow Court precedent — or, rather, the need to depart from precedent in this particular case.

Roberts’ concurrence should leave people convinced he would overturn Roe v. Wade and that his persona as a non-activist “umpire” who merely calls balls and strikes is a fraud. First, Roberts wrote, upholding precedent “is not an end in itself. It is instead ‘the means by which we ensure that the law will not merelychange erratically, but will develop in a principled and intelligible fashion.’”

So why would Roberts depart from precedent? First, if he thinks it’s wrong: “[I]f the precedent under consideration itself departed from the Court’s jurisprudence, returning to the ‘ “intrinsically sounder” doctrine established in priorcases’ may ‘better serv[e] the values of stare decisis than would following [the] more recently decided case inconsistent with the decisions that came before it.’”

Merely overturning precedent because a judge thinks it’s wrong, of course, does away entirely with what court’s call “stare decisis,” the rule that compels them to follow precedent (except when they don’t). If all that mattered was a judge’s determination of what is right, then there would be no need for stare decisis — a judge will always uphold precedent he or she believes is right.

So Roberts has to come up with something better. What does he come up with? To me it’s plain: precedent ought to be overturned if its justification is difficult, if using it to decide future cases is difficult, and if its original justification is open to question:

[I]f adherence to a precedent actually impedes the stable and orderly adjudication of future cases, its stare decisis effect is also diminished. This can happen in a number of circumstances, such as when the precedent’s validity is so hotly contested that it cannot reliably function as a basis for decision in future cases, when its rationale threatens to upend our settled jurisprudence inrelated areas of law, and when the precedent’s underlying reasoning has become so discredited that the Court cannot keep the precedent alive without jury-rigging new anddifferent justifications to shore up the original mistake.

Justice Blackmun’s opinion in Roe v. Wade has been under attack by both supporters of the right to choose whether or not to carry a pregnancy to term and those who oppose the right to choose since the day it was issued in 1973. And in fact, our courts should and do uphold precedent if there is any legitimate justification to uphold — that’s a central truth about legal interpretation (and one law students have a very difficult time gaining an understanding of). But Justice Roberts and his allies on the Court now have authority to cite as support for overturning Roe v. Wade because its original justification may not gain widespread support — this opinion of in Citizen’s United.

Finally, Roe v. Wade fits that other justification Roberts advances for overturning precedent —  it is “hotly contested,” and no doubt he and his allies would argue it therefore “cannot reliably function as a basis for decision in future cases.”

One thing I do know — Roberts has no respect for precedent that doesn’t suit his purposes.

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.

Here’s legal innovation: YouTube Broadcast of the Proposition 8 Trial. But will it happen? Stay tuned.

There are few more important and timely issues concerning innovation and law than the impact of the internet on courts. Courts have always been considered public institutions anyone could walk into to see court proceedings or to look themselves at court files. But now making something “public” means making it available to anyone at his or her own computer, and the inherent resistance to change that resides in any well-established institution makes courts and those who don’t want their legal stands exposed to the brightest possible public lights reluctant to embrace this new notion of public access.

So, as CNN reports, controversy and legal wrangling has erupted over the decision by “the federal judge who is hearing appeals of California’s Proposition 8 this week ruled that the proceedings could be shown — albeit in delayed fashion — on YouTube.”  But opponents of same-sex marriage, outlawed by Proposition 8, appealed the judge’s order and yesterday the Supreme Court postponed the online broadcasts at least until tomorrow (when, it is hoped, the Supreme Court will rule on the issue).

Jon Davidson, legal director of the pro-gay rights Lambda Legal, argued that opponents of same-sex marriage want to keep the trial as much out of the public eye as they can because public debate on same-sex marriage actually increases support for it. In addition, he argued that the risks of true public access to the proceedings is way overblown:

“One of the things we find on the marriage issue, but really on all issues in response to gay rights, is that the more discussion there is — the more conversation, the more people learn — the more likely it is that gay people are going to do well,” Davidson said.

Davidson said posting the trial on YouTube wouldn’t increase the potential for witnesses to be harassed, saying that anyone can read news reports after the fact to find out who spoke and what they said.

Besides, any effort to block new-media coverage of the hearings is already too late, Davidson said. He said people in the courtroom for opening arguments Monday were posting live updates to Twitter throughout.

The inexorable trend toward free access to court documents

I mentioned last week that Google Scholar can now be used to find case law. It’s real progress.Court documents, after all, are public documents, so it sometimes seems a bit frustrating that the only reliable way to do legal research is through private systems. As Wired’s Threat Level explains, “West [Publishing], and its competitor, Lexis Nexis, buy court data in bulk, reformat it and add proprietary citation codes. They then license the database of public documents at high rates to libraries, law firms and government agencies. Even the U.S. Court system pays West’s high license fees to access public court documents that West purchased from it.”

To make matters worse, the court system’s database, PACER, doesn’t work well: “the search function is intricate and inflexible, and lacks a way for users to be notified when a case is updated. And in the age of Google, it is absurd to charge citizens to search for the name of a person in a lawsuit. Even looking at the docket sheet — a short form list of all actions in a given case — costs $.08 a page.”

The ability to copy and disseminate documents instantaneously, of course, is breaking this system down.  In addition to Google Scholar, a “Firefox plug-in called RECAP, created by Princeton students, uploads court documents to a public archive any time a user goes into th e system, while programmer Aaron Swartz took advantage of a pilot program offering free access to download 18 million court documents (that earned him an FBI investigation).”

I’ve got mixed feelings about court dockets in their entirety being freely available via the internet (as opposed to, say, the documents courts themselves produce). Dissemination of documents produced without thought to a worldwide audience can cause serious misunderstandings. But technology and economics seem to be inexorable forces — just ask the music industry: try as it might, it isn’t going to recreate a world in which it held a monopoly on the ability to produce and distribute recorded music. And it’s probably better after all that the public gets for free the court documents it produces.

Cleveland Museum of Art allowed to use 50% of income from trusts for expansion; 1st time in Ohio since 1955.

A follow up to my posts (here and here) regarding the power of museums to deviate from the terms of a donor’s limitations on the use of money donated:

Last week, the Cleveland Museum of Art won permission from a Cuyahoga County Probate Court judge to use 49.99% of the income (not the principal) from 4 trusts over a period of 10 years (up to an amount not to exceed $75 million) to finance the museum’s ongoing renovation and expansion. The 4 trusts were established in 1920, 1935, 1938, and 1952. It is the first time since 1955 that the museum has sought such relief from the terms of a donor’s trust, which is also the last time such relief has been sought by any museum in Ohio.

These facts plainly do not justify the fears the museum’s critics hold up as the consequence of such rulings.

ADDENDUM: The Art Law Blog was right on top of this, and also has written, commented upon, and linked to articles about the background.

How do we decide how a long buried corpse would want his art treated? And is the corpse’s former intent all we care about?

My post last week about art museums and the doctrine of deviation provoked in the comments precisely the kind of discussion/argument that I tried to point out is the whole point: how do we decide how to apply rules or other written expressions when they are applied in contexts that have radically changed. To literally apply the words written by a donor that restrict the use of a gift by an art museum when doing so would threaten the entire point of the gift (a thriving art museum) seems pretty absurd to me. If what we’re trying to do is discern a donor’s intent, shouldn’t we be a little more flexible?

Thus, I am particularly pleased to note Donn Zaretsky’s reference to the Philadelphia Inquirer’s conclusion that the new Barnes Foundation building (the subject of a couple of those comments to my original post) shows “obvious respect for Barnes’ legacy – for his idiosyncratic view of how art should be displayed and appreciated – should reassure supporters of the move.” That’s precisely the point: Barnes’ original bequest might have forbidden the move, but the result of his restriction, 60 years after his death, was the closing off of a multi-billion dollar collection of art to the wider public, strife between the Foundation and its neighbors, and a threat to the very existence of the Foundation itself. Isn’t it at least arguable that satisfying much of Barnes’ obvious intent — precisely how the art is housed and shown — while making it accessible to the world in a location where it is welcome is a reasonable effort to accommodate what he would have wanted? And isn’t it appropriate that we have institutions like courts to decide whether that reasonable argument or the opposing one (Barnes stated in his bequest the collection should never be moved, so it should never be moved, even if there are circumstances now that he did not anticipate and we could not predict his reaction to)?

And that’s not even to mention that there is a public interest involved. Are we to so honor “property” rights that we would sacrifice billions of dollars of the world’s culture to the whim of the owner? As Zaretsky asks in another post:

What if Barnes’s Will had provided that the works were to be exhibited in Merion for exactly 50 years — and then were to be burned in a big bonfire?

Should we honor donor intent in that case?

Or can we agree that sometimes the public interest trumps the donor’s intent?

Let’s get straight the historically profound benefits of making information available online — Scribd this time.

Two days ago I wrote about the court decision holding that the video hosting service Veoh is protected by the ”safe harbor provisions” of the Digital Protection Millennium Act from liability if any of the service’s users upload videos that infringe existing copyrights. One of the reasons Veoh is entitled to those protections is that it uses adequate technological safeguards to police the content its users upload.

So I don’t expect there is much of a chance that a new lawsuit against Scribd, a web site that hosts documents uploaded by its users, will will succeed or even survive a motion to dismiss for failure to state a claim, a procedural device that ends the lawsuit at its very beginning by means of a court determination that even if everything the plaintiff alleges is true she is not entitled to legal relief. As Geek.com reports, the lawsuit alleges copyright infringement by Scribd not because it hosts copyrighted materials but because the software it uses to detect copyrighted materials before they are published on the site allegedly uses copyrighted materials:

A children’s author in Texas has leveled a strange lawsuit against the company, claiming that the company infringes copyright, but not by hosting infringing works on its service.

No, her claim is even weirder: she maintains that Scribd prevents copyrighted material from being placed on the site by copying the text of copyrighted books and other publications into its copyright infringement detection software, which therefore infringes copyright itself!

The claim may not be as weird as Geek.com believes, though it is likely not to survive long. The original legal challenge to the Google Books Project by the Authors Guild and individual authors holding who were identified was premised largely on the contention not that Google was going to make those authors’ copyrighted works available. It wasn’t. It was only going to make those works searchable so that snippets could be brought up by researchers who could thereby identify and by library loan or purchase obtain relevant works they never otherwise would have found without traveling from Palo Alto, California to Ann Arbor, Michigan to Oxford, England. So what was the problem? The authors alleged that the fact Google was copying their works in their entirety to create the database that would yield the snippets constituted copyright infringement.

And in A.V. v. iParadigms, LLC, 544 F. Supp. 2d 473 (E.D. Va. 2008), aff’d in part and remanded, F.3d 630(4th Cir. 2009), plaintiffs were students who alleged that iParadigm’s Turnitin plagiarism detection system — used by schools throughout the country to detect plagiarism committed by students — constituted copyright infringement. Schools that use Turnitin require each student turning in a paper to submit it through Turnitin. Turnitin then compares the paper to its database and prepares a report that rates the similarities of the paper to papers in its database. In addition, Turnitin adds the paper it is rating to the database, thereby constantly growing and increasing the effectiveness of that database.

The students alleged that they owned the copyright in their papers and that IParadigms was infringing those copyrights by copying those papers and using them as part of the Turnitin database. But last March the federal court hearing the lawsuit dismissed it.

There are several interesting points to make about the decision. First, I read the trial court decision (that was later affirmed by the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 4th Circuit) on Scribd (here). Scribd is a tremendous resource for me — a lot of legal documents are not available online, and a lot of valuable ones that are available online are behind paywalls even though they cannot be copyrighted (including a lot of court decisions). Scribd is a solution to this problem, providing a central clearinghouse where lawyers can upload legal documents to make them available to the general public.

The value of resources like Scribd is one of the reasons I find criticisms like that Chris Castle directed at the decision in the Veoh case so maddeningly unhelpful. If one looks at sites like Veoh and Scribd as doing nothing but making available for free works that people would otherwise pay for, then it is much easier to rant and rave that those sites are nothing but distributors of stolen merchandise and to rationalize a stubborn refusal to admit that copyright must be balanced against strong competing interests in free speech and the exchange of ideas. But if you see these sites as profoundly gratifying resources that make the internet the greatest innovation in the history of information technology, the fact that media companies (and even independent writers, artists, and musicians) can readily identify infringing uses that do slip through detection programs does not seem so profoundly troubling. Those copyright owners can quickly employ the DMCA’s notice-and-takedown procedures, which many criticize as too friendly to the copyright holders.

Why would you use copyright to stifle marvelous new innovations? Copyright exists to encourage, not stifle, invention.

So a legal attack on Scribd, even if it is not as “weird” as it might seem on first blush, is something I will scrutinize carefully.

Second, it seems odd that Scribd would be attacked for committing copyright infringement resulting from a mechanism it is employing to minimize copyright infringement by its users and for which it is rewarded by the immunity conferred by the DMCA safe harbor provisions.

Third, a spokesperson for Scribd, as Wired reports, explains that Scribd does not copy works in their entirety as part of its copyright detection system; rather, it “creates a digital fingerprint, or a ‘hash,’ to identify infringing copies.”

Most importantly, even if Scribd did copy the entirety of the copyrighted works only to use those copies to prevent users from uploading and making available to readers those copyrighted works, the decision holding that Turnitin’s similar use of copies copyrighted materials to detect plagiarism is illuminating. The trial court, affirmed in this reasoning by the 4th Circuit Court of Appeals, explained that “iParadigms, through Turnitin, uses the papers for an entirely different purpose [than those the plaintiff did or could], namely, to prevent plagiarism and protect the students’ written works from plagiarism . . . by archiving the students’ works as digital code.” Thus, while the court recognized that iParadigms profits from its use of the student works, the court found that iParadigms’ use of plaintiffs’ works was “highly transformative” because it adds a “further purpose or different character” to the copyrighted works and “provides a substantial public benefit through the network of educational institutions using Turnitin.” Slip op. at 14.

In affirming the trial court’s decision, the 4th Circuit added to this reasoning and described as “clearly misguided” the argument that   Turnitin’s  use of the plaintiff’s copyrighted papers cannot be considered transformative “because the archiving process does not add anything to the work — Turnitin merely stores the work unaltered and in its entirety”:

The use of a copyrighted work need not alter or augment the work to be transformative in nature. Rather, it can be transformative in function or purpose without altering or actually adding to the original work. See, e.g., Perfect 10, Inc. v. Amazon.com, Inc., 508 F.3d 1146, 1165 (9th Cir. 2007) (concluding that Google’s use of copyrighted images in thumbnail search index was “highly transformative” even though the images themselves were not altered, in that the use served a different function than the images served). [Turnitin's] use of plaintiffs’ works had an entirely different function and purpose than the original works; the fact that there was no substantive alteration to the works does not preclude the use from being transformative in nature.

562 F3d at 639.

So let’s get it straight: what Scribd is doing is of tremendous value to society as a whole. It’s use of copyrighted works to minimize the availability on its site of copyrighted works is entirely different than and in no way diminishes the value of the copyrighted works to the owners of the copyrights. A copyright is not ownership of property like title to a car is — it does not give the owner control over any use of that car the owner doesn’t approve. There are a lot of good reasons for these differences. First, if someone else uses your car, you can’t. If someone else uses your copyrighted work, you can still use it too. If they use it for a use you never would have, what’s your problem? And if that other person’s use is doing a lot of good, why should the law confer on you a power to stop it? (Even your ownership of physical property is limited by restrictions imposed for the social good.) Finally, copyrighted works are works of expression, and we have a constitutional right to free expression. The limitation on copyright imposed by fair use is precisely a means of balancing the copyright holder’s interests against this profound social interest in free expression.

It’s an amazing world. In the name of legal rights that exist to promote progress and innovation, people everywhere are trying to stop revolutionary innovations they plainly don’t realize the value of. One of these days I’ll have to talk about the Google Book Project settlement and the fights raging in connection with it. Some are more legitimate than others. But let’s be clear: Google is trying to make available online for research purposes (not in ways that would displace the markets for the works themselves) the contents of major research libraries from around the world. Doesn’t everyone realize what an amazing and unprecedented advance this is for the life of the mind, for anyone anywhere who ever has had an interest in doing research?

The Madoff Investigation Should Focus on the SEC.

Ever since the Bernie Madoff scandal broke, I’ve wondered: was the SEC paid off? It’s hard to believe the SEC could have investigated Madoff as it did, see what anyone who looked closely could see, and not dig sufficiently to uncover the fraud. And a story today from the Washington Post only adds gasoline to the fire of that suspicion. An SEC lawyer told her superiors in 2004 that “information provided by Madoff during her review didn’t add up and suggest[ed] a set of questions to ask his firm.” She was instructed in response to focus on other matters. And her immediate supervisor’s boss later married Madoff’s niece!

The suspicious SEC lawyer, Genevievette Walker-Lightfoot, “had previously worked at the American Stock Exchange, where she developed an expertise in specialized trading strategies.” After she was diverted to other matters, she never was asked about the Madoff investigation again, even during an agency investigation into Madoff in 2005 which only “found three violations of minor rules.” In 2006, Walker-Lightfoot left the SEC after filing a complaint with the agency alleging that she’d been subjected to a hostile workplace. A person familiar with the complaint said it was settled in Walker-Lightfoot’s favor.”

Madoff, incidentally, once “boasted at a business roundtable discussion about his close relationship with SEC regulators, saying “my niece just married one.”

Did Apple Mislead Investors Regarding Steve Jobs’ Health? Almost certainly, yes. Then why did it not disclose the medical facts? (Part I)

Steve Jobs had a liver transplant last week, and, the L.A. times and others report, the “doctor who led the transplant team said this week that Jobs was ‘the sickest patient on the waiting list’ at the time a donor liver became available.” All Apple had earlier disclosed to the public regarding Jobs’ health was set forth in 2 statements written by Jobs and posted on Apple’s website posted last January. The first, in connection with his widely reported drastic weight loss in 2008, stated that “my doctors think they have found the cause—a hormone imbalance that has been ‘robbing’ me of the proteins my body needs to be healthy. Sophisticated blood tests have confirmed this diagnosis. The remedy for this nutritional problem is relatively simple and straightforward, and I’ve already begun treatment. But, just like I didn’t lose this much weight and body mass in a week or a month, my doctors expect it will take me until late this Spring to regain it. I will continue as Apple’s CEO during my recovery.” (emphasis added) The second letter, posted one week later, stated that “during the past week I have learned that my health-related issues are more complex than I originally thought. In order to . . . focus on my health, and to allow everyone at Apple to focus on delivering extraordinary products, I have decided to take a medical leave of absence until the end of June.” (emphasis added) In April, “[a]ccording to unnamed sources . . . Jobs continue[d] to work on the “most important strategies and products from home,” though Apple’s only official statement was that “Steve continues to look forward to returning to Apple at the end of June.”

Inevitably, people are asking a question lawyers representing a company whose stock is traded on public exchanges always have to ask themsevles about any facts that might affect the company’s’ value: is the information “material”? On the one hand, the L.A. Times story states: “Companies are not required to divulge medical details about executives, lawyers said.” But the story also quotes a lawyer stating that “If [Apple] tried to lessen the disclosure and make it misleading by omission, that’s just as bad as telling something that flat isn’t true . . . . ” And Warren Buffet is quoted stating: “Certainly Steve Jobs is important to Apple. . . Whether he is facing serious surgery or not is a material fact.” (emphasis added).

What’s going on? What information is “material” and therefore has to be disclosed to the public by a publicly traded company? Well, Neil Lipschutz is right that “something is material if ‘there is a substantial likelihood that a reasonable shareholder would consider it important” in making an investment decision. Also, if there was a substantial likelihood a reasonable investor would think the information ’significantly altered the total mix of information available’ about a company.’”

Do we have anything better to guide us than (1) what seems a terribly subjective test, (2) the gut reactions of lawyers and of Warren Buffett, and (3) the almost certain fact that Apple, after close consideration of the facts and the law by its lawyers, made the business decision that the risks and probabilities of disclosure last January (or at any time between when Jobs first got sick and now) were outweighed by the risks and probabilities of liability for securities fraud if and when its lack of candor became known?

Well, if what you’re seeking is guidance in the way beginning law students and most non-lawyers want the law to provide guidance — articulation of rule that makes it easy to decide the question — the answer is a resounding NO. These are judgment calls based on the specific evidence of each case. In order to determine if a set of facts would matter to an investor, you need to look at those specific facts. And plainly I have not had available to me all the evidence that might eventually be considered to judge the question in this case. But there is a lot available, and based on only that, I have to agree with Warren Buffet that the fact Steve Jobs was so ill he required a liver transplant certainly is material.

But, again, my certainty is not a product of pointing to a “law” and having you nod your head in agreement. I have to look at the specific evidence regarding Apple, the law, and the facts in the cases in which courts have concluded that events are material and in which courts have concluded the events are not material. By doing that, I hope I can convince you that my certainty is well founded. That’s the best I can do.

Moreover, that’s not the end of the lawyer’s job. Even if the lawyers concluded that the facts regarding Jobs’ health prior became “material” at any time before the next week would not mean Apple necessarily would disclose those facts. Apple’s lawyers would have to consider what potential downside its failure to disclose those facts would present and the likelihood that downside would occur. Then Apple, not the lawyers, would have to decide if those risks and probabilities would outweigh the likelihood and degree of the impact disclosure would have on Apple’s value.

There are a number of rules under which a publicly traded company is obligated to disclose “material” information to the public or face criminal and civil liability, but the definition of “materiality” is the same under all of them. One is a regulation known in the trade as “Rule 10b-5″ [17 CFR 240.10b-5], which makes it a crime and a civil wrong for any a company or an individual purchasing or selling stock “to omit to state a material fact necessary in order to make the statements made, in the light of the circumstances under which they were made, not misleading, . . ” As the United States Court of Appeals for the 2d Circuit stated in SEC v. Texas Gulf Sulphur Co., 401 F.2d at 833, 848 (2d Cir. 1968), this requirement to disclose material facts is based “on the justifiable expectation of the securities marketplace that all investors trading on impersonal exchanges have relatively equal access to material information . . . .” The requirement originates in the Securities Exchange Act of 1934 (15 U.S.C. § 78j(b)), one of the keystones of the New Deal passed in response to the practices prevalent on Wall Street that had led to the 1929 stock market crash.

As the court further stated in Texas Gulf Sulfur, “[t]he basic test of materiality * * * is whether a reasonable man would attach importance * * * in determining his choice of action in the transaction in question.” Thus, material facts include any facts “which affect the probable future of the company and those which may affect the desire of investors to buy, sell, or hold the company’s securities.”

The defendants in Texas Gulf Sulfur had argued that tests showing one of their company’s mines was likely a rich one were not material because there was nothing certain to report until mining had actually begun and there was more certainty than the tests could provide.  The Second Circuit rejectted their argument, ruling that even possibilities that never occur might be material. One must look at the probability the fact would have an impact on the company’s value and the magnitude of that potential impact: “whether facts are material . . . will depend at any given time upon a balancing of both the indicated probability that the event will occur and the anticipated magnitude of the event in light of the totality of the company activity.” 401 F.2d at 849. Thus, the court reversed the trial court’s decison to dismiss the criminal charges against the defedants because, the Second Circuit decided, they would be guilty if it were true that they had failed to disclose “the possibility, which surely was more than marginal, of the existence of a mine of the vast magnitude” as a result of a “remarkably rich” sample taken  ”close to the surface (suggesting mineability by the less expensive openpit method) within the confines of a large anomaly (suggesting an extensive region of mineralization).” That mere “suggestion . . . would certainly have been an important fact to a reasonable, if speculative,  investor in deciding whether he should buy, sell, or hold” stock in the mining company the defendants controlled. Id. at 849-50 (emphasis added).

The U.S. Supreme Court expressly adopted the Second Circuit’s test in 1988 in Basic, Inc. v. Levinson, 485 U.S. 224 (1988), a case in which the Court determined that corporate insiders might have had the duty to disclose negotiations for a corporate merger before the merger was concluded. Some courts outside the 2d Circuit prior to that time had ruled that a deal didn’t have to be disclosed until it was a binding deal. The Supreme Court rejected the reasoning of those courts and made plain that an event that might not ever happen nevertheless might at some point be likely enough and big enough that it would affect a reasonble investor’s investment decisions.

So the questions Apple’s lawyers had to be asking themselves all the time ever since they learned in 2004 that Jobs had pancreatic cancer, are the following:

(1) Is Jobs so important to Apple that an investor would make a decision to sell, buy, or hold on to Apple stock based on his ability to do his job?

(2) Do the medical facts demonstrate with sufficient probability that Jobs’ condition is threatened enough that those facts would cause an investor to sell, buy, or hold on to Apple stock?

(3) Did Apple’s words or omissions mislead reasonable investors in evaluating whether Jobs could continue to do his job well enough to not affect their investment decisions.

Let’s get the easy stuff out of the way. Jobs’ health and its impact on his ability to do his job  are so plainly material that to argue otherwise wouldn’t pass the “giggle test.”  I would therefore, if I were representing Apple in litigation, advise the company simply to admit this point in the answer to any complaint anyone filed. To admit the point would at least minimize attention to something that, if Apple did dispute it, would only increase attention to a weakness in the company’s case. But just in case you think I don’t understand when it’s smart lawyering to concede a point, remember these things — someone’s own words are taken by a court as “admissions.” In other words, if someone admits something that is harmful to his legal position, the court will assume the facts are at least that bad. In the letter posted online last January, addressed to the “Apple Community,” Jobs ended with this: “So now I’ve said more than I wanted to say, and all that I am going to say, about this.” I’d love to ask him in a deposition why, if he didn’t want to write what he wrote, he did. The probelm, if Apple had decided to dispute the materiality of Jobs to the company’s value, is that he’d have to deny and dance around the obvous: his lawyers told him he had to write the letter because his health and its impact on his capacity to do his job is material to Apple’s shareholders and potential shareholders.

Don’t assume I haven’t considered the arguments I could make on Apple’s behalf on this point — I could point out, for example, as MacNewsWord did yesterday, that since January, when Jobs wrote the letter he didn’t want to write, Apple stock has almost doubled in value. The Apple loving outlet implied that market shows that investors have been confident that Apple was fine without Jobs:  ”This could be due to general belief among investors that Apple has a good management team in place which has kept the company running on an even keel despite the CEO’s absence.”  Or it could mean the market had already accounted for Jobs’ illness.  Or it could be that the market is driven by unreasonable investors.  It could be for any number of reasons. Regardless, I am convinced  that a strategy to fight a securities fraud case on the grounds that Jobs isn’t important enough to be material to Apple is not going to make winning the case more likely. I could go on and on . . . Last October, just to take at random one piece of evidence easy to find via a mere Google search, (according to CSnews) “Some individual had posted a fake report . . . claiming Steve Jobs had suffered from a heart attack and was rushed into the hospital. As a result, Apple’s stock made a 10% nosedive.”

NEXT: (a) was Jobs’ health so dire its specifics would have made a difference to people thinking about buying, selling or holding on to Apple stock, (b) did Apple’s statment’s or silences mislead investors about Jobs’ health, and (c) why would Apple choose not to disclose specifics regarding Jobs’ health even if its lawyers were telling it that those were material facts?

“Expert” is only a name; an “expert’s” ideas are only as good as the ideas themselves.

This is the honest truth: back when the Napster case was pending on appeal (the appeal Napster would eventually lose), I was teaching a legal writing class and the problem was about copyright and fair use in connection with a web site that used posted exerpts of copyrighted works and also an online “bulletin board” (it was that long ago) for discussion of the works. I told my class that I thought that if the music industry had any sense they’d put significant excerpts of every work in their catalogs in streaming audio next to a button that would allow electronic download of an mp3 file of each song for a price.

I bring this up not to boast that I am some brilliant businessperson who would’ve wisely been picked up by Apple to help produce iTunes. I have no doubt I’d read the idea a hundred different places and that it sounded good to me. So why do I bring it up?

The students reacted this way: it’s a stupid idea; if it weren’t, the music companies would’ve done it already. What would I know that they don’t? I was left almost speechless. I asked them if they really believe that people who do things necessarily know what’s best with respect to doing those things. They apparently did. I told them I thought that it was very important that they learn that just because an “expert” thinks certain things about his area of expertise doesn’t mean that a non-expert can’t have better ideas, and that it certainly isn’t the case that an entire industry necessarily does business in the best way it could.

I was reminded of all this when I read at Ars Technica that “Geoff Taylor, head of UK major label trade group BPI, wrote an op-ed piece for the BBC today in which he called Napster the ‘Rosetta Stone of digital music,’ said it was ’simple to understand and use,’ and said that the music industry should have ‘embraced Napster rather than fighting it.’”