New from the FJC: Case Management, Prohibition, and More!

Perhaps like us you have overlooked recent online essays by the historians of the Federal Judicial Center.  The very latest is Jake Kobrick's Civil Case Management in the Federal Courts, which, among other things, provides a useful periodization of the subject.  Other recent essays include The Judiciary Act of 1801, Prohibition in the Federal Courts: A Timeline, Penhallow v. Doane's Administrators, Early Radio in the Federal Courts, Supreme Court Meeting Places and more.

--Dan Ernst

Baranowski on Rulemaking and FRCP 54(b)

Brad Baranowski, SMU Dedman School of Law, has posted Remaking Rulemaking: Lessons from the History of Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 54(b), which appeared in the Cleveland-State Law Review:

This Article uses the lost history of Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 54(b) to provide a framework for rulemaking at the busy intersection of complex litigation and appellate finality. The drafters of the original civil rules spent more time thinking through how to efficiently combine claims and parties in civil actions-a promised benefit of the proposed law-equity merger-than about how combined claims should be disassembled. This failure would haunt the original Advisory Committee on Civil Rules for years. Nowhere was this more evident than in the first decades of Rule 54(b)'s existence.

Promulgated in 1938, Rule 54(b) was designed to provide for partial final judgments in multiclaim actions, but it quickly caused confusion in the courts of appeals. Leading jurists such as Jerome Frank, Learned Hand, Felix Frankfurter, and, above all, Charles E. Clark, the first reporter for the Advisory Committee and the Rules' primary drafter, sparred over its purpose, application, and legitimacy. The debate over amending the rule was often technical. But the stakes of the controversy hinged on a fundamental issue about the scope of rulemaking authority under the Rules Enabling Act. Namely, who should work out the tensions between law and equity after their merger: the courts, Congress, or the rulemakers?

The Supreme Court resolved this debate in 1956 by tapping the rulemakers. This is the point at which a standard history of Rule 54(b) would begin. But the rulemakers' first, abortive efforts to devise a rule of district-court procedure that would advance the goals of the law-equity merger (especially promoting efficiency in complex litigation) while respecting the separation of powers (especially the statutory policy of the final judgment rule) can provide lessons for rulemakers today as they continue to grapple with appellate finality. And as this Article concludes, those lessons provide a framework for analyzing rule proposals related to appellate finality, one that focuses the exercise of the rulemaking authority on further advancing the law-equity merger.

--Dan Ernst

Francois and Hershkopff on Pennoyer and Redemption

Aderson Francois, Georgetown University Law Center, and Helen Hershkoff, New York University School of Law, have posted Pennoyer, Due Process, and the End of Reconstruction, which is forthcoming in the forthcoming in the New York University Law Review:

In 1877, the United States withdrew the last of its troops from the states of the former Confederacy and returned the rebel states to “home rule”—actions that are said to be a part of the “Compromise” by which the Electoral Commission of 1876 resolved that year’s contested presidential election and placed the Republican candidate, Rutherford B. Hayes, in the White House. Over the next generation, the country underwent a case of collective amnesia about the causes of the Civil War, in thrall to a “Lost Cause” myth that the South seceded to protect the heroic ideal of states’ rights and not to preserve racial chattel slavery. As is well known, during this period the national government stopped enforcing the civil rights of Black people; the Supreme Court gutted the emancipatory potential of the Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Fifteenth Amendments; and by law and practice systems of racial subordination became entrenched, as the nation came to celebrate Confederate officials in monuments and institutions.

1877 also is the year the Court heard argument in Pennoyer v. Neff, shortly after those Justices who participated in the Electoral Commission returned to the bench. Pennoyer is of course a case about personal jurisdiction and is a staple of the first-year Procedure course. Scholars treat the decision as an exemplar of formal reasoning, and their analyses of the decision likewise are formal in approach, detached from the concerns of the Civil War and the end of Reconstruction.  By examining Pennoyer in the context of the social and political issues of this period, this Article aims to make sense of the decision’s “central mystery”: why the Court associated its territorial theory of personal jurisdiction with the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment—a move that scholars remain unable to explain or justify.

In particular, we argue that Pennoyer’s invocation of the Fourteenth Amendment  helped to set a jurisprudential baseline about state sovereignty that became the conceptual starting point of arguments about national incapacity to enforce the rights of Black people, just as Lochner later set the baseline for arguments about state incapacity to regulate common law  property rights. Moreover, by enforcing rights under the Oregon Donation Act, a federal statute that explicitly excluded Black people from its benefits, Pennoyer rendered invisible for purposes of the Fourteenth Amendment the ways in which legal rules protected, enforced, and preserved property benefits for white people even in the face of de jure discrimination. And Pennoyer provided protection for landowners by making it more difficult for financiers to seize their land when debts came due. At a time when scholars and the Court currently are questioning whether to decouple personal jurisdiction from the due process foundation that is said to trace to Pennoyer, it seems worthwhile to ask how, when, and why they became intertwined in the first place, and what the Fourteenth Amendment gained and lost in the process. 

--Dan Ernst 

Smith on Erie

Thomas A. Smith, University of San Diego School of Law, has posted a reconsideration of Eire Railroad Co. v. Tompkins, entitled, Overruled from the Chair: A Study in Umbesetzung

This Article reads Erie Railroad Co. v. Tompkins (1938) not as the correction of a century-old error but as a conquest, and it borrows from Hans Blumenberg the concept of Umbesetzung, or reoccupation, to describe how the conquest was carried out. The classical order that Swift v. Tyson had restated, in which courts were understood to find a general law they had not made rather than to enact the law of a sovereign, was not moribund in 1938. It was alive, with a pedigree older than the Republic, and it would outlive its own obituary by the better part of a century. Erie did not refute that order; it redescribed it, adopting the delegitimating premise Holmes had pressed across three failed dissents, that law must be traceable to an identifiable sovereign author, and treating that premise as though the Constitution had supplied it. The Court then reached, sua sponte and past a narrower statutory ground a concurring Justice had shown to be sufficient, for a constitutional holding whose operative language it borrowed verbatim from Holmes’s own dissent. The result was a killing performed with the grammar of an autopsy, an overruling conducted from a chair its occupant had not vacated. The Article traces the emptying of the classical position across Holmes’s dissents and its formal occupation in Brandeis’s opinion and then turns to the modern general-law revival, which recovers the found-law form while leaving the classical substance where the conquest left it. It closes on the irony that the man who completed positivism’s victory was not a positivist but a moralist, evidence that a method has truly won when even its opponents must speak its idiom.

--Dan Ernst 

Funes Reviews Funk's "Law's Machinery"

José Argueta Funes, UC Berkeley Law, has published The "Code American" and Law's Empire, a review of Kellen Funk’s Law’s Machinery, in the Yale Law Journal:

Kellen R. Funk’s Law’s Machinery is an erudite and compelling account of the creation, migration, and interpretation of the Field Code of Civil Procedure—named for one of its drafters, David Dudley Field. Although the Code was simultaneously imagined and feared as an attempt to transform how lawyers and courts worked, its achievements were much more ambiguous. Funk departs from earlier assessments of the Code and their focus on legal class politics, emphasizing instead the role of ideas about law in shaping the Code’s trajectory. Conservative common lawyers and reformist codifiers alike could not escape the conceptual universe developed through legal practice, and so the meaning of the Code came to rely on the very world its creators had tried to overthrow. The Code thus marked less the arrival of an entirely novel mode of practice than the opening of a period of interpretive contestation that went to the very meaning and legitimacy of law.

Law’s Machinery also affords an opportunity to think productively about an increasingly salient issue in legal scholarship: empire. Field had imperial ambitions befitting a nation defined less by borders and more by the movement of its citizens. But this was not the understanding of empire that has become the center of much legal scholarship—it was not an empire of federal will. Rather, it was an empire of law, defined by the spread of a particular legal product in which some core—Field’s New York, perhaps—became, as Field put it, the world’s “lawgiver.” And his ambitions succeeded, at least insofar as the Field Code spread far and wide across the United States. By the end of the nineteenth century, most American jurisdictions had adopted some version of the Code, often more of it than New York had enacted.

But this success was far from obvious. Rather than the inevitable byproduct of territorial expansion, the Code’s reach reflected the alleged demands of eastern capital and the anxieties of settlers in colonial outposts eager to remain within the pale of Anglo-Saxon civilization. This account suggests parallels with other stories of legal transformation in the nineteenth century, and this Review develops the parallels with the Hawaiian experience. The goal is not to suggest these experiences were all the same. Rather, it is to surface how capitalist and cultural constraints informed the process of lawmaking in ways that invite us to look beyond the federal government to understand the legal history of empire. At the same time, the growth of law’s empire echoes the interpretive contestations that Funk finds in the history of the Code itself. The law that arrived in places like Hawai‘i was not a complete and finished whole, and part of the legal history of empire must account for the ways people expanded and contested the meaning of law, even in a world of constraints.

--Dan Ernst 

Engstrom et al. on Managerial Courts

David Freeman Engstrom, David Marcus and Elliot Setzer have published Managerial Courts in the Yale Law Journal:

In recent decades, American courts have undergone a quiet but far-reaching revolution in their function and role. Particularly in state courts facing a crush of cases in high-volume dockets for debt, eviction, and family-law matters, case-by-case judging has gradually given way to court-devised systems that govern adjudication through centralized, routinized, and often digital and data-driven practices. Cases are triaged into differentiated procedural pathways; docket calendars are engineered to shape litigant behavior; decisional aids, digital dashboards, and order templates channel the discretion exercised by judges and staff; teams of quasi-judicial officers, staff attorneys, case-management professionals, and clerks absorb tasks once thought quintessentially judicial in order to ration scarce “judicial attention”; and internal and, increasingly, digitized and even AI-based tools perform quality-control tasks once left exclusively to appellate review. The upshot is that courts pervasively mix adjudication and bureaucracy, with profound but largely unexamined implications for fair and accurate adjudication, access to justice, due process, and the production of law.

This Feature surveys the managerial turn transforming American courts, tracing its roots, forms, and normative implications. An opening historical narrative situates the rise of court managerialism within a century-long arc from the New Deal to the digital age, highlighting its shifting causes and its consequences for American justice. Turning to the present, we offer a novel taxonomy of current managerial techniques that identifies the operational components of the managerial turn and synthesizes their many commonalities and interconnections. Finally, our normative and doctrinal analysis develops principles for reconciling court managerialism with classical conceptions of American courts and judges as passive, neutral adjudicators of whatever the adversarial process serves up. Can courts adopt bureaucratic tools without losing their distinctive institutional identity? Given twenty-first-century litigation realities, including the bracing fact that the majority of cases in the American civil-justice system now pit represented parties against unrepresented ones, managerial approaches will often outperform an unmediated adversary process on metrics of accuracy and efficiency. A constitutional reckoning awaits: while some parts of the new managerialism may run afoul of due process, others may be constitutionally required.

--Dan Ernst 

Kim on Australia's Procedure Act of 1854

David Kim, of the Australian law firm Banki Haddock Fiora, has posted “A Turbid Admixture”: The Long Shadow of the Common Law Procedure Act 1854, which appeared in the Adelaide Law Review:

The innovations of the pre-judicature period continue to haunt us. In the 1850s, in response to agitation for procedural fusion, reforms were introduced to allow for the grafting of equitable remedies onto common law courts and vice versa. This well-intentioned blending of jurisdiction spawned two novel remedies that are with us to this day: equitable damages and the lesser known 'common law injunction'. This article explores the Australian jurisprudence that has coalesced around the common law injunction and surveys the difficult theoretical problems that come to the fore when attempting to define its nature and scope.

--Dan Ernst

Pfander and Zakowski on Non-Party Relief in the Early Republic

James E. Pfander and Mary Zakowski, Northwestern University Pritzker School of Law, have published Non-Party Protective Relief in the Early Republic: Judicial Power to Annul Letters Patent, which is forthcoming in the Northwestern University Law Review:

Much of the debate over the constitutionality of universal or non-party protective relief in the federal court system has focused on lessons drawn from historical practice.  But with its emphasis on injunctive relief, the literature has largely ignored forms of adjudication that arose outside the courts of equity and led to judgments and decrees affecting the rights of non-parties. As a result, the story of non-party protective relief has not yet been fully told.

This Article offers a more complete story, highlighting a range of proceedings in which federal courts issued judgments that settled a matter once and for all and operated on all the world. Some familiar examples include proceedings in admiralty, where a decree could settle title conclusively and operate on those who did not appear in the litigation.  Less familiar examples include naturalization judgments, which conferred the status of citizenship on an individual once and for all.  We focus here on yet a third example:  the power of federal courts, acting under the patent laws of the 1790s, to entertain individual suits to cancel or annul a patent for all purposes. Such cancellation proceedings, based on a practice that developed in England on the writ of scire facias, were understood to operate as a general matter and could confer benefits on artisans and manufacturers who did not appear in the litigation. Patent cancellation remains a part of the federal judicial role today.

History suggests, then, that federal courts were understood to have power, when so authorized by Congress, to issue decrees that settled matters conclusively and therefore conferred burdens or benefits on non-parties.  Over the nineteenth century, the patent cancellation power migrated to federal courts of equity, resulting in decrees that prohibited patent owners from asserting claims against non-parties. These early examples of non-party protection make it challenging to argue on historical grounds that Article III of the Constitution bars federal courts from granting such relief today.  In a brief concluding section, we suggest that assessments of non-party protective relief should focus instead on congressional authority; such a focus could help distinguish universal injunctions in general from the set-aside power conferred in section 706 of the Administrative Procedure Act.

--Dan Ernst

Post on the Judiciary Act of 1925 and the Supreme Court

Robert Post, Yale Law School, has posted The Supreme Court’s Crisis of Authority: Law, Politics, and the Judiciary Act of 1925:

William Howard Taft (LC)

This paper is written for a forthcoming symposium on the Judiciary Act of 1925 that will appear in the Notre Dame Law Review. Before the Judiciary Act of 1925, the Supreme Court functioned as an apex tribunal whose docket was dominated by trivial cases that it was forced to decide due to its expansive mandatory appellate jurisdiction. The Act substituted discretionary writs of certiorari for a large proportion of these mandatory appeals, thus allowing the Court to determine the nature of its own docket.

The point of the Act was to allow the Court to select cases that would clarify important questions of law and establish national priorities in constitutional and legal matters. Over time, these criteria for case selection have led both the public and the Court to imagine its proper role as supervising the development of federal law. The difficulty is that we lack any account of judicial authority that might justify the Court’s assumption of this essentially policymaking role.

The most basic source of judicial legitimacy derives from the dispute settlement function of courts. American courts may make law and policy, but they are justified in doing so only when it is necessary to decide concrete cases. This can be seen in how our legal system conceives the relationship between the dicta and the holding of a judicial opinion, and in how it differently treats judicial opinions and judicial judgments. This was also the basis of Marbury’s claim that federal courts were entitled to engage in judicial review. If the forward-looking lawmaking of a legislature is justified by its representative nature, the forward-looking lawmaking of a court is justified by the need to resolve disputes.

Over time, the Judiciary Act of 1925 has encouraged the Court to imagine that it can exercise a lawmaking authority that is virtually free-standing and independent of the retrospective need to settle disputes. The Court exercises this authority not only in self-consciously using certiorari to set the nation’s constitutional agenda, but in using its cases primarily as vehicles for the declaration of forward-looking law. This shift has produced a profound crisis of the Court’s legitimacy. A court that nakedly exercises its lawmaking authority is vulnerable to the charge that it can no longer settle disputes in a fair and impartial manner. It is stripped of its most basic claim to legitimacy.

It was during the era of the Warren Court when the Court first fully inhabited the policymaking role made possible by the Judiciary Act of 1925. At that time the Court imagined itself as the leader of American constitutional culture. Modern American constitutional theory developed as an effort to explain and justify the independent lawmaking authority of the Warren Court. But because judicial lawmaking, like any lawmaking, must ultimately be vindicated by popular acceptance, professional legal theory cannot insulate a court from popular opposition. The irony of our present situation is that although the Roberts Court has rejected the substantive doctrine of the Warren Court, it has nevertheless fully embraced the judicial role pioneered by the Warren Court.

Like its predecessor, the Roberts Court seeks to lead the constitutional culture of the country. This has put its legitimacy profoundly at risk, a danger that cannot be averted merely by the proliferation of constitutional theories. Instead the Court must find some way to make its constitutional views acceptable to the nation.

--Dan Ernst

Zhang on Fair Notice

Alexander Zhang, the Legal History Fellow at the Yale Law School, has posted Fair Notice as a Sociopolitical Choice, which is forthcoming in the Duke Law Journal.

This Article reframes deadlocked debate about “fair notice” as a justification for statutory interpretation methods by developing a historical account of a crucial, overlooked dimension: legislatures’ and laypeople’s value judgments about notice. On one side of the debate are idealists who contend, on due process grounds, that judges should embrace interpretive methods and theories based on how well they promote fair notice. On the other side are realists who counter, on empirical grounds, that perfect notice is impossible. Each side continues to talk past the other because we lack a fleshed-out framework for evaluating when the fair-notice basis of a given interpretive method or theory is sufficient or superior to that of others. In the vast terrain of this debate beyond the contexts of the rule of lenity and the void-for-vagueness doctrine, the stalemate has left critical questions undertheorized: Given notice’s real-world costs and limits, how much notice is “enough” for judges to promote through statutory interpretation, and why should judges promote more than enough, less than enough, or just enough notice?
 
The Article uncovers two features of notice with the goal of developing a vocabulary that can be used to resolve the impasse on normative grounds. First, legislatures and laypeople are always in the background making choices about what constitutes “good” or “fair” notice, and, most importantly, they influence how different forms and costs of notice are distributed across different segments of society. Second, these choices have produced deep societal inequalities of notice. Two major transformations in the history of fair notice illuminate these features. First, legislatures made notice fictional by prioritizing a distribution of notice that was “efficient” rather than audience neutral, redistributive, or notice maximizing. Second, and in tension with the conventional idea that laypeople are inherently notice-phobic, laypeople once developed a mass political culture—eventually abandoned by the early twentieth century—that involved reading not just statutes but also legislative history.
 
From this history, the Article ultimately argues that because nonjudicial choices pertaining to notice are always in the backdrop of judicial invocations of fair notice in statutory interpretation, judges who want to embrace fair notice need to have a theory of whether and how to account for these choices—especially choices influencing the distribution of notice across society. While this Article leaves for another time the task of resolving how exactly judges should account for these choices, it preliminarily sketches two potential approaches. It first traces out a hands off approach that is guided by judicial restraint and that reflects the choices of legislatures (and the choices of the people vis-à-vis legislatures). Second, and in the alternative, it traces out a law-and-political-economy approach to imagining a world of “enough” notice.
 
Finally, the Article explains how the history of notice offers two interventions for the methodology of evaluating fair notice. First, the history can help scholars better determine what constitutes “good” or “fair” notice by revealing the range of possibilities—and limits—of notice. Second, the history demonstrates how fair notice has been contingent on changing historical circumstances, which calls into question the long-term stability of fair notice in statutory interpretation theory.

--Dan Ernst

Russell on Models of Dispute Resolution and Street Railway Claims

Thomas D. Russell, University of Denver, Sturm College of Law, as posted Claims on the Tracks:

A Trip Down Market Street, 2016 (Upchurch)

Using original empirical evidence, this Article challenges the prevailing conception of a “dispute pyramid”—a smooth process of attrition from personal injury through claiming to litigation. Instead, I argue for the metaphor of a “salmon run,” with huge drop-offs from the levels of injuries to claims and, especially, to litigation.

As support for the proposed model, the Article analyzes the claims department records of Alameda County’s principal street railway company during the early twentieth century. Using data drawn from archival records of the street railway company’s attorney, Harmon Bell, the Article examines the operation of the street railway’s claims department in detail. This never-before-assembled data reveals the hidden operation of the systems of claims compensation within an industry that injured approximately one in 331 urban Americans in 1907. For a sense of the street scene, see this video of San Francisco in April 1906.

The assembled data include all the personal injury suits filed in Alameda County’s Superior Court, all appellate cases involving the street railway company, and other sources concerning the street railway industry. In particular, the Article describes the relationship between the amount paid through the claims department and the amount paid in Superior Court judgments and costs. The average payments that successful claimants received were tiny, averaging just $127.32 in the claims department.

This Article presents a series of research and methodological critiques. No scholar has assembled a universe of data linking business operations, injuries, and claims to litigation and appeals. Empirical researchers who seek to understand compensation systems should collect data on the operation of claims departments. Today, such studies must include insurance claims departments. If I could find these data from more than a century ago, researchers today could do likewise.  Second, the common idea that injured claimants bargain in the shadow of the law is naïve. The claims department casts its own, longer shadow than the trial court.  The final critique focuses on anyone who relies upon reported appellate cases as representations of any realm below. Appellate cases, especially those in casebooks, misrepresent the trial court and, more dramatically, misrepresent the empirical world of the claims department and business operation.

--Dan Ernst

Parker's "Turn to Process"

Kunal M. Parker, University of Miami School of Law, has published The Turn to Process: American Legal, Political, and Economic Thought, 1870–1970, in the series Cambridge Historical Studies in American Law and Society, edited by Christopher L. Tomlins.

In The Turn to Process, Kunal M. Parker explores the massive reorientation of American legal, political, and economic thinking between 1870 and 1970. Over this period, American conceptions of law, democracy, and markets went from being oriented around truths, ends, and foundations to being oriented around methods, processes, and techniques. No longer viewed as founded in justice and morality, law became a way of doing things centered around legal procedure. Shedding its foundations in the 'people, ' democracy became a technique of governance consisting of an endless process of interacting groups. Liberating themselves from the truths of labor, markets and market actors became intellectual and political techniques without necessary grounding in the reality of human behavior. Contrasting nineteenth and twentieth century legal, political, and economic thought, this book situates this transformation in the philosophical crisis of modernism and the rise of the administrative state.

Here are some endorsements:

‘Ranging widely across disciplines, crossing political boundaries, and unsettling conventional wisdom at every turn, The Turn to Process provides a brilliant new synthesis of a transformative period in American intellectual life.’

Angus Burgin - Johns Hopkins University

‘This book is a real tour de force, a return to intellectual history in the grand manner. In Kunal Parker’s synthesis, the leading theorists of law, political science, and economics in the twentieth century all contributed to, and followed, a shift away from theorizing their sciences as means to substantive ends such as justice or morality, to thinking about them only as methods or procedures. The book is marked by deep learning in the sources of all three fields and an uncommon lucidity in exposition.’

Robert W. Gordon - author of Taming the Past: Essays on Law in History and History in Law

‘In this revelatory account of ‘a world rendered process’, Kunal Parker brilliantly reframes the history of modern American knowledge-making. As foundational certainties faltered in the late nineteenth century, he contends, the language of tools, methods, and techniques remade entire disciplines and professions - with enduring consequences for how we understand law, democracy, and markets.’

Sarah Igo - author of The Known Citizen: A History of Privacy in Modern America

Professor Parker discusses the book here.

--Dan Ernst

Bruhl on Law, Equity and Appellate Procedure

Aaron-Andrew P. Bruhl, William & Mary Law School, has posted Equity on Appeal:

It is generally understood that the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure merged the divergent trial procedures of the common law and of equity and that they did so by adopting the equity practices at almost every turn. This paper traces the origins of federal appellate procedure, where there is also a story of merger, indeed an interesting and more complex one. Just as we used to have separate systems of trial-level procedure for common law (typified by juries and damages) and equity (the chancellor, depositions, and injunctions), we used to have two separate systems for appellate review. At common law, a reviewing court examined the record for errors of law using the procedural vehicle of the writ of error after the final trial judgment. In the equity tradition, by contrast, an appeal was a rehearing of the law and the facts aimed at achieving justice, and the appeal did not need to await a final judgment. Unlike the story with federal trial procedure, where we can identify a date of merger (1938, with the Federal Rules) and a winning side (equity as conqueror), the federal appellate procedure of today merged fitfully over the course of two centuries and left us with a blended system that incorporates important aspects of both of the old traditions.

In addition to revealing some of the complicated roots and hybrid character of current federal appellate practice, the paper has a second goal, namely to show that an appreciation of the history can explain some current pressures in the system and can suggest some modest reforms. Some odd things are happening in the world of appellate courts (e.g., “universal” injunctions and objections thereto, the shadow docket, disregard of the deferential clear-error standard in high-profile cases). Some of these phenomena can profitably be understood as suppressed features of equity practice reasserting themselves. And the federal courts could benefit from the reemergence of some lost practices from the distinctive equity appeal. To be very clear, I do not urge that we somehow transplant the bifurcated appellate procedure of the past into our modern federal court system. Many old distinctions have been abolished for good reason. Neither should we resurrect equity practice in full. Nonetheless, there are some circumstances in which the equitable model of appeal — review of the facts, reweighing of the equities, tolerance of interlocutory appeals, an orientation toward concluding a matter with full justice — still makes sense today. That is, there are good functional reasons for non-antiquarians to appreciate aspects of the equitable model of appeal. In sum, this paper aims to bring the revival of interest in equity, now the subject of a lively scholarly literature, to the law of appeals. 

--Dan Ernst

Petryshyn on the Fusion of Law and Equity

Alessandro Petryshyn, Lancaster University Law School, has posted Fusion of the Common Law and Equity: A Strictly Procedural Reform or a Substantive Breakthrough?

This paper analyses whether the outcome of the Judicature Acts has merged the common law and equity solely in procedure or whether their fusion was intended to (and eventually did) become substantive and altered the rights of the parties. Considering not only British, but also broader Commonwealth examples, the discussion is far from being conclusive.

--Dan Ernst

Solimine and Walker on the Three-Judge District Court

Michael E. Solimine, University of Cincinnati College of Law, and, posthumously, James L. Walker, Wright State University, have published The Strange Career of the Three-Judge District Court in the Case Western Reserve Law Review 72 (2022): 909-975:

The three-judge district court has had a long and strange career in the history of the federal court system. Congress created the court in 1910 as a response to the canonical decision of Ex parte Young two years earlier, which permitted federal court suits against state officials to facilitate constitutional challenges to state laws. The three-judge court statute was a reaction by Progressive Era politicians to such perceived judicial overreach, and required any such challenges to be brought before a specially convened trial court of three judges, with a direct appeal to the Supreme Court available. First established as a presumed limit on judicial activism, decades later, plaintiffs in the Civil Rights Era came to see the court as advancing their agenda. Particularly in the South, some plaintiffs preferred to have their suits decided by three judges rather than the usual one, with a direct appeal available to a relatively friendly Warren Court. For that and other reasons, the total number of such cases in the district courts, and direct appeals to the Supreme Court, swelled in the 1960s and 1970s. But at the same time, the court came to be seen by many as administratively burdensome and unnecessary, and Congress in 1976 severely restricted the jurisdiction of the court, limiting it to hearing only reapportionment cases.

Analysis of the three-judge district court has so far largely relied on anecdotal evidence, and limited empirical studies, to examine whether some plaintiffs in the Civil Rights Era were correct to consider the court as friendly to their interests, as compared to a typical single district judge with the normal appeal process. This article breaks new ground and extends those studies by systematically reexamining these assumptions through a unique, nationwide database of 885 three-judge district court decisions, regarding constitutional challenges to state laws, handed down from 1954 (the start of the Warren Court) to 1976 (when Congress limited the Court’s jurisdiction). The study provides greater and more complete information on the number, types and results of cases litigated in the court, as well as on the dispositions of appeals to the Supreme Court. Among our findings are that such court decisions were  disproportionately in favor of plaintiffs, both in and outside the South, and that there was a high rate of appeal to the Supreme Court. We then consider how the decisions of the three-judge court, and its direct appeal mechanism, affected jurisprudential developments in several areas of civil rights litigation, including reapportionment and judicial abstention. We also address how these decisions impact the Judicial Capacity model, which posits that the sheer number of cases that come to the Court for review affects doctrinal developments. The study situates the three-judge district court in a richer historical context, and sheds light on the continued use of the court in more limited contexts to the present day.

--Dan Ernst

Dodge et al. on Forum Non Conveniens

William S. Dodge, University of California, Davis School of Law, Maggie Gardner, Cornell Law School, and Christopher A. Whytock, University of California, Irvine, School of Law, have published The Many State Doctrines of Forum Non Conveniens, which is forthcoming in the Duke Law Journal:

Forum non conveniens is not as “ancient” or as monolithic as U.S. courts often assume. The doctrine, which permits judges to decline to hear cases they believe would more appropriately be heard in another sovereign’s courts, is often used today by both state and federal courts to dismiss claims brought by against local businesses. The Supreme Court, however, only adopted a general doctrine of forum non conveniens in 1947; the doctrine’s “deep roots in the common law” are thought instead to be planted in the states.

This Article tests that account by surveying the forum non conveniens doctrines of all fifty states and the District of Columbia. What we found should change how judges, practitioners, and scholars view the doctrine. First, forum non conveniens in the states does not have a “long history”—it is a twentieth-century phenomenon. Second, before the 1950s, no states permitted dismissal of claims brought against local defendants. Third, state experience with forum non conveniens has been and continues to be highly variable. Most states adopted a forum non conveniens doctrine only after the Supreme Court did; many initially rejected it; and half a dozen still prohibit its use in cases involving in-state plaintiffs or in-state causes of action. Idaho has not recognized the doctrine at all.

In addition to these doctrinal lessons, the states’ experience with forum non conveniens provides a useful case study for examining what we term “procedural federalism,” meaning the interactions between state and federal institutions that affect procedural development.

Procedural federalism reminds us that the procedure we have is not necessarily the “best” procedure we could conceive, while drawing our attention to pockets of divergence that may offer promising reforms. More broadly, it suggests a different approach to history than the one currently ascendant in federal courts and commentary. The iterative nature of procedural federalism makes clear that doctrines like forum non conveniens do not have perfect pasts, needing only to be rediscovered to be understood properly. Rather, procedural history is useful because it can help us understand how we ended up with the doctrines we have today, in order to better evaluate where we should go next.

--Dan Ernst

Weekend Roundup

• Via the New Books Network, an interview with Samantha Barbas (University at Buffalo School of Law) about The Rise and Fall of Morris Ernst, Free Speech Renegade (University of Chicago Press, 2021).
  

• Over at the Law and Political Economy blog, you'll find a symposium on Destin Jenkins's Bonds of Inequality: Debt and the Making of the American City (University of Chicago Press, 2021)
  

• Balkinization has convened an online symposium on James E. Pfander's Cases Without Controversies: Uncontested Adjudication in Article III Courts (Oxford University Press, 2021). Here's a post by Amanda Tyler (UC Berkeley). Other contributors include Tara Grove (Alabama), Robert Pushaw (Pepperdine), Fred Smith (Emory), Kevin Walsh (Richmond), and Diego Zambrano (Stanford).

• From the Washington Post's "Made by History" section: Joana Galarza Johnson (La Sierra University), "Texas’s restrictive new abortion law eerily echoes the witch hunts of centuries ago."

• 
  Kyle Volk, University of Montana, discusses prohibition in the 1850s on the podcast, Unsung History, hosted by Kelly Therese Pollock. 

• ICYMI: The medievalist Susan Reynolds has died (The Guardian).  Akhil Reed Amar’s The Words That Made Us: America’s Constitutional Conversation, 1760-1840, is reviewed in the Roanoke Times.

• The fall 2021 line-up in the Washington History Seminar is out.  Presenters include: Mia Bay, Traveling Black: A Story of Race and Resistance; Elizabeth Shermer, Indentured Students: How Government-Guaranteed Loans Left Generations Drowning in College Debt; Mark Bradley and [LHB Founder] Mary Dudziak, Making the Forever War: Marilyn B. Young on the Culture and Politics of American Militarism; Thomas Guglielmo, Divisions: A New History of Racism and Resistance in America’s World War II Military; Linda Colley, The Gun, the Ship, and the Pen: Warfare, Constitutions, and the Making of the Modern World; Kate Larson, Walk with Me: A Biography of Fannie Lou Hamer; and Caley Horan, Insurance Era: Risk, Governance, and the Privatization of Security in Postwar America.
  

• And, in Second Amendment news, according to Judge Richard Gardiner of the Fairfax County [Virginia] Circuit Court, “going armed” in the 1328 English Statute of Northampton did not mean "packing heat."  It meant "wearing armor."  More.
  

• Robert A. James, Pillsbury Winthrop Shaw Pittman LLP, has posted Holmes In Nature and Across Time, a review of The Black Book of Justice Holmes (2021), edited by Michael F. Hoeflich and Ross E. Davies.
  

Weekend Roundup is a weekly feature compiled by all the Legal History bloggers.

Solimine and Walker on Three-Judge District Courts in the Civil Rights Era

Michael Solimine, University of Cincinnati College of Law, has posted The Strange Career of the Three-Judge District Court: Federalism and Civil Rights, 1954-1976, an article he researched and wrote with the late James Walker, Professor of Political Science Emeritus, Wright State University.  It is forthcoming in the Case Western Reserve Law Review:

The three-judge district court has had a long and strange career in the history of the federal court system. Congress created the court in 1910 as a response to the canonical decision of Ex parte Young two years earlier, which permitted federal court suits against state officials to facilitate constitutional challenges to state laws. The three-judge court statute was a reaction by Progressive Era politicians to such perceived judicial overreach, and required any such challenges to be brought before a specially convened trial court of three judges, with a direct appeal to the Supreme Court available. First established as a presumed limit on judicial activism, decades later plaintiffs in the Civil Rights Era came to see the court as advancing their agenda. Particularly in the South, some plaintiffs preferred to have their suits decided by three judges rather than the usual one, with a direct appeal available to a relatively friendly Warren Court. For that and other reasons, the total number of such cases in the district courts, and direct appeals to the Supreme Court, swelled in the 1960s and 1970s. But at the same time the court came to be seen by many as administratively burdensome and unnecessary, and Congress in 1976 severely restricted the jurisdiction of the court, limiting it to hearing only reapportionment cases.

Analysis of the three-judge district court has so far largely relied on anecdotal evidence, and limited empirical studies, to examine whether some plaintiffs in the Civil Rights Era were correct to consider the court as friendly to their interests, as compared to a typical single district judge with the normal appeal process. This article breaks new ground and extends those studies by systematically reexamining these assumptions through a unique, nationwide database of 885 three-judge district court decisions, regarding constitutional challenges to state laws, handed down from 1954 (the start of the Warren Court) to 1976 (when Congress limited the Court’s jurisdiction). The study provides greater and more complete information on the number, types and results of cases litigated in the court, as well as on the dispositions of appeals to the Supreme Court. Among our findings are that such court decisions were disproportionately in favor of plaintiffs, both in and outside the South, and that there was a high rate of appeal to the Supreme Court. We then consider how the decisions of the three-judge court, and its direct appeal mechanism, affected jurisprudential developments in several areas of civil rights litigation, including reapportionment and judicial abstention. We also address how these decisions impact the Judicial Capacity model, which posits that the sheer number of cases that come to the Court for review affects doctrinal developments. The study situates the three-judge district court in a richer historical context, and sheds light on the continued use of the court in more limited contexts to the present day. 

--Dan Ernst

Blackman on Presidential Subpeonas during the Burr Trial

Josh Blackman, South Texas College of Law Houston, has posted Presidential Subpoenas during the Burr Trials:

Aaron Burr (LC)

Between March and October of 1807, Aaron Burr stood for two treason trials arising from the same set of facts: the first, for a felony charge, and the second, for a misdemeanor charge. Chief Justice John Marshall presided over the proceedings in the Circuit Court for Virginia in Richmond. During this period, Marshall issued seventeen written opinions, and delivered several shorter decisions from the bench, that spanned over two-hundred pages in the reporter. In the end, based on Marshall’s narrow construction of the crimes of treason, the jury acquitted Burr of both the felony and the misdemeanor charges. Marshall’s rulings, however, were not limited to technical aspects of criminal law. In both trials, Aaron Burr asked the court to issue a subpoena duces tecum to President Jefferson. Such a subpoena would have required the witness to appear in court, and bring a specific document. Specifically, Burr wanted Jefferson to produce a letter authored by General Wilkinson, dated October 21, 1806. Burr insisted that this transmission to the President was material to his defense. Moreover, the Defendant demanded that Jefferson produce the original copy of Wilkinson’s letter. The United States Attorney, George Hay, would only offer to provide a redacted copy of the letter, with certain portions excluded.

As the deliberations proceeded, Hay would frequently write to the President, who traveled between the White House and Monticello. Jefferson, who took a keen interest in the case, would usually write back immediately. The correspondences between Jefferson and Hay outside of court can shed light on the interactions between Hay and Marshall in court. That is, the government’s positions were based on direct instructions from the President himself. In the felony trial, Marshall ordered that Jefferson was required to submit the original copy of the letter, without redaction. Jefferson did not comply with this order. In the misdemeanor trial, Jefferson would provide a redacted copy of the letter.

Because of the lengthy nature of the proceedings — in which Marshall and Jefferson took different positions at different junctures — it is difficult to draw too many broad conclusions from the prosecution as a whole. This essay will walk through each phase of the proceedings, with an eye towards understanding the limits on presidential subpoenas.

--Dan Ernst

Williams on Personal Jurisdiction and the Declaration of Independence

Ryan C. Williams, Boston College Law School, has posted Personal Jurisdiction and the Declaration of Independence:

(NYPL)

The Declaration of Independence accuses the King of having “obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary powers.” But despite the seemingly natural resonance of this particular charge with the legal profession, legal scholars have displayed remarkably little interest in exploring its factual foundations. This Essay traces the colonists’ complaint to a somewhat surprising and unexpected source — a dispute about personal jurisdiction.

During the late eighteenth century, the administrative officials responsible for overseeing Britain’s North American possessions adopted an increasingly restrictive view of judicial jurisdiction, seeking to stamp out the custom of foreign attachment of nonresidents’ property that had proliferated throughout the colonies. The elected officials of North Carolina pushed back against the Crown’s efforts to deprive them of their privilege of foreign attachment by refusing the Governor’s insistence that a provision authorizing the procedure be stricken from a bill renewing authorization for the colony’s court system. The resulting impasse effectively terminated judicial authority in North Carolina and left the residents of the Colony without a fully functioning court system for more than three years. The Declaration of Independence, drafted amidst the North Carolinians’ showdown over foreign attachment, incorporated their complaint as one of the twenty-eight charges of royal abuse that the colonists claimed justified their claim to independence.

Ironically, the restrictive ethos that animated Britain’s late eighteenth-century hostility to foreign attachment and that provided the grounds for the colonists’ complaint finds echoes in the modern Supreme Court’s restrictive approach to personal jurisdiction. This Essay uses the experience of the Founding-era showdown over personal jurisdiction as a lens through which to examine modern efforts by the Court to cut back on the jurisdictional reach of state courts. Although this Essay does not propose a specific framework to replace the Court’s existing doctrine, it urges the Court to abandon its defendant-centric emphasis in favor of an approach that gives more meaningful credence to the sovereign interests of the respective states in determining the jurisdictional reach of their own courts. 

--Dan Ernst